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Chapter Text

September 1977

The loud whistle that signalled the train’s departure from King’s Cross made Regulus Black flinch. The train surged out of the station, briefly pushing him back against the seat and he clenched his jaw, grunting as pain rattled through his body. He sat forward quickly, not wanting his back to touch anything. He exhaled a slow, measured breath. If he breathed too quickly, the pain became intolerable. And it would be several hours before the train reached Hogwarts and he could do anything about it.

Regulus hadn’t had a good summer at home in years, but this last one topped the charts of wretched. At least back then he’d been able to rely on his brother. This year he’d had no one. And his mother’s fury had landed entirely upon him. Unendingly.

His mother never let him forget how he was the second son in every possible sense of the word. Less talented, less beautiful, less intelligent, less wanted. Regulus was the spare and he’d always been aware of it. Even with Sirius now blasted off the stupid family tree, his mother always compared them. While Sirius’ desertion she blamed on Hogwarts and Dumbledore, Regulus’ general failings she blamed on Regulus and Regulus only. It was really starting to make him hate his brother, if he was honest. A hatred that had only hardened when Sirius packed a bag and fled in the middle of the night for James Potter’s home.

‘Please,’ Regulus had begged. ‘Please don’t go.’

‘I can’t stay here,’ his brother had said.

And then he was gone.

Regulus wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive Sirius for what happened come dawn when his mother realised Sirius had run off. She hadn’t believed Regulus when he swore he didn’t know where Sirius had gone and no amount of begging on his part stopped her from casting a series of hexes upon him.

If there was one thing Regulus would never forget, it was the feeling of the Cruciatus curse.

Stomach in knots, he glared out of the train window at the passing countryside, the harsh summer replaying in his mind.

He had always known his parents were fanatics. It had annoyed him for years, but he had long ago learned that either playing into it or shutting up when they went off on one of any dozen repugnant rants kept his family’s fury at bay. He’d even started sticking up photographs of Death Eaters on his wall, just to get his mother to leave him alone. He hated seeing their sycophantic expressions, but she’d given him a genuine smile upon entering his room and didn’t bother him for almost a month afterwards. It was worth it. But this past summer, things had taken a turn. One he could not avoid: his parents brought Voldemort to dinner. They had spoken to him - at him, really - of Regulus joining the Death Eaters after the end of his sixth year. They talked at length about how they expected him to spend the next year gathering more students to the cause, writing letters home with any relevant information, and preparing for the war they seemed so hungry for. Regulus had hesitated at the table, visibly, and his mother had not let him forget her disappointment even after he said, between punishments, that he would, of course he would, he had only been thinking it all over carefully. It didn’t matter to him that he was lying. In that moment, he’d have told her anything she wanted to hear just to get her to stop.

Regulus was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the door open until someone called his name. Loudly. He jerked around, surprised to see Lily Evans, the Gryffindor Head Girl, smiling at him.

‘Prefect meeting,’ she said. ‘Did you forget?’

‘Shit. I did.’ Regulus jumped up – and instantly regretted it. A feeling not unlike glass being scraped over his flesh cascaded down his back. It took all his strength not to scream and he covered the urge by turning away from Lily to inspect his trunk like it was the most fascinating inanimate object ever.

He was wearing Muggle jeans and a t-shirt that had once belonged to his brother but which were a size too large and hung loosely on his too-thin frame. The leather jacket had been a gift from Sirius two years before, vintage and always too big for him, even when he’d eaten more regularly. But despite how unkempt he looked, the clothes felt like a kind of armour. He felt safer in them than he did in robes, a realisation that broke his heart if he dwelt on it for too long. Once upon a time, Hogwarts had meant everything to him. Now he hated the prospect of school as much as he hated being at home. The clothes were his private rebellion against all of it.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Lily, moving into his line of sight and offering a smile of solidarity. Despite the longstanding rivalry between their Houses, Lily had always been kind to everyone and Regulus had never heard a bad word against her once. Even Severus Snape, a Slytherin who was close with his cousins and constantly echoed their slurs and laughed at their suggestions for what to do with Muggles, defended her. Ugly and hypocritical as it was, Regulus knew it was because Severus was completely in love with her and he was glad Lily had walked away from that friendship. That she had enough respect for herself to walk away.

Regulus wished he had the courage to do the same. Instead he shut up, tucked his head in, and silently wished them all ill. It was usually enough to keep trouble at bay – or had been, until recently.

Drawing him from his dark musings, Lily opened her arms and he caught sight of a similar outfit to his own beneath her robes: jeans and a t-shirt with a rock band label across the front. She said, ‘My sister was a right headache this morning in the shops, so of course I was late to the train station and didn’t have time to change. We can be dress code breakers together.’ She winked.

Regulus bowed his head, grateful. ‘I’m game if you are.’

‘Come on, then.’ Lily seized his forearm and tugged him from the compartment. ‘How was your summer? James said Sirius moved in with him. That must be so strange for you and your parents. I’m sure that was hard on them even if they don’t agree with Sirius’ politics.’ Whether she knew the true extent of the division or not, Lily’s expression showed only concern and empathy. ‘You okay?’

Regulus hated the way such simple words constricted something in his chest. ‘You’ve—you’ve seen Sirius?’

‘Oh. Well. No, not really.’ She tucked a strand of strawberry-red hair behind her ear. ‘James wrote letters. I even saved a few. He’s given up on serenading me, thank goodness, and he seems determined to be my best friend these days.’

‘Is it working?’

‘It’s not not working.’

‘That’s good,’ he replied neutrally. Regulus vividly recalled her hexing James two years ago in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for all to see. He’d never seen James so embarrassed. He wanted to ask about Sirius, but didn’t quite know how, and so he swallowed the urge and kept it to himself.

Several students occupied the prefects’ compartment when he and Lily arrived. Regulus’ fellow prefects in Slytherin house were already seated in the corner, their heads together. Evan Rosier and Geoffrey Wilkes immediately started whispering, their eyes on Regulus, ill wish in both their gazes.

Milicent Avery, one of the seventh year prefects, sneered at the sight of him and Lily. She leaned down to Aurora Biggins, a sixth year girl, and hissed something into her ear. Both sniggered.

Regulus ignored the lot of them. He took the seat beside Lily and pulled his shirt sleeves down over his hands, playing with the ragged ends of fabric. Yet he soon felt another set of eyes on him, closer this time, the tug of magic oddly familiar and intense, and looked up.

James Potter was watching him.

‘Can I help you?’ he snapped, stomach twisting painfully as he resisted the urge to ask where his brother was and if he was okay. If he was ever coming home.

James shrugged and turned to Arthur Weasley, a fellow Gryffindor who Regulus knew nothing about other than that he could juggle. He was pretty good, too. Arthur often entertained students on the field behind the castle when the weather was mild.

‘Aren’t there rules about prefects in uniform?’ drawled Milicent as soon as Lily finished calling the meeting to order. ‘Or is this a Mudblood convention?’

‘Language, Avery,’ said Arthur sternly.

‘Black’s attire is against school policy, Weasley. Or did you forget we’re prefects here?’

All eyes pinned on Regulus’ jacket.

‘I didn’t have time to change,’ he said, voice clipped, hating every moment of attention. ‘I didn’t think a jacket was so offensive, but perhaps Milicent is allergic to leather.’

James pressed his palm to his mouth, poorly smothering a laugh.

‘I’m surprised your parents let you out of the house looking like that,’ said Milicent snidely. ‘Your mother has higher standards, Black. At least that’s what Bellatrix says.’

‘I’ve never put much stock in a psychopath’s opinion, but I admit I have not tried.’

Her eyes turned to slits. ‘Careful, Black. I’m sure your parents would be interested to know that you’re turning your back on your own kind.’

‘You’re actually looking at my front, Avery, but I forgive you for the mix-up. If I spent as much time up my own backside as you do, I’d be confused, too.’

This garnered a few snorts from around the compartment.

Milicent rose in her seat. ‘You p—’

‘He’ll change before we reach Hogwarts,’ said Lily loudly. ‘I think we can all be mature enough here to move past Regulus’ coat – fashionable as it is. Now, moving on …’

Regulus tuned out the rest of the meeting, more focused on not letting his back touch the chair than on the new rules for the year. He was deeply relieved when Lily dismissed the meeting and those who didn’t want to remain in the prefects’ compartment filed out.

Milicent and Aurora both knocked into his chair on their way by. As did Evan. He clenched his jaw. Regulus didn’t give a shit about Milicent and Aurora hating him, but Evan’s hatred stung even if he wished it didn’t. He’d been friends with Evan once. Recently, too. They’d been friends until the previous April. But their friendship died a fast death when Evan and Barty Crouch, another former friend, found Regulus kissing a boy in Hogsmeade one weekend. Evan nearly broke his nose, told the entire Slytherin common room that evening, and hadn’t spoken to him since unless it was to call him some variant of his favourite slurs.

Regulus remained in his chair, foot tapping anxiously against the floor. He didn’t like having people behind him on good days.

‘Regulus?’

He glanced over at the other prefect, silently hinting at him to go, but James remained in his chair.

‘Why are you wearing Sirius’ clothes?’

Regulus blinked at him, not remotely sure why he cared. Still, he found himself saying, ‘It was this or a shirt that said, “Fuck the police”. I didn’t much fancy wearing that through Muggle London so I went with this. Although perhaps the Wizarding reaction to a black jacket should have worried me more. Twats.’

‘And your parents just let you?’

‘Seeing as how my father doesn’t notice my existence unless it’s of use to him and my mother hasn’t spoken to me since I embarrassed her in front of Lord Voldemort at dinner, no. They didn’t let me. They didn’t even bring me.’

James was staring at him in appalled fascination. ‘You met him? He was in your house?’

The remaining prefects were all watching now, horror mirrored on every face.

‘Yeah.’ With that, Regulus got to his feet and stepped out into the corridor. Just saying Voldemort’s name made his heart race and he didn’t fancy the entire school talking about him inviting the arsehole for tea.

Regulus rubbed his eyes, absolutely exhausted, and stumbled down the train towards the compartment where he’d left his trunk.

The sight that greeted him elicited a heavy sigh. His trunk had been opened and everything was ripped, stamped on or mangled. There was also an unappetising black liquid covering all of his books and which seemed to have burned a hole straight through the lot.

‘Perfect.’

‘What—’ Lily appeared at his side, although he didn’t remember seeing her in the corridor. ‘Who did this?’

Regulus didn’t answer. It wasn’t the first or the tenth time this had happened since Evan found him in Hogsmeade. Spending time with Lily at the meeting and wearing Muggle clothes had only given his House mates more ammo, apparently. 

It was going to be a very, very long year.

He leaned against the doorframe, jaw clenched, and said nothing.

‘Here, let me.’ Lily had cast three spells in quick succession. It fixed the bulk of the damage, but his books were completely ruined. These she vanished with a dark sigh and a wave of her wand. She then put a hand on his arm. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine.’ He wasn’t, not remotely, but it wasn’t like he was surprised. And the prospect of buying new books was so far down on the list of problems he was currently contending with that he couldn’t bring himself to care.

‘Do you want to tell Slughorn or Dumbledore when we get to Hogwarts? I’ll be your witness.’

‘No. It’s fine.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s only stuff. You should see what they do to snitches. There’s only so much they can do to a Black, after all. Even a queer one.’

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, Regulus—’

‘It’s fine, Lily. I’m fine. I’m going to get changed.’

‘Sure. Yeah. Let me know if you need me.’

Regulus waved to her before he closed the door pointedly. It took a minute for him to gather the strength to take off his shirt. The fabric pulled against the dried blood and he cursed several times as he dressed.

His mood had not improved by the time the train reached Hogsmeade. He went through the motions of helping the younger students off the train and into the carriages and boats. He helped direct everyone into the Great Hall and to their seats. He greeted the ghosts who floated down towards him and called their welcomes. But when it came time to follow the last students in and take his seat at the Slytherin table, he turned and headed off in the opposite direction, tuning out the Sorting Hat’s latest song.

More than anything, he wanted to find his brother. He wanted to tell Sirius about how much worse the beatings were at home. Tell him about Evan and the others and the constant mockery. He wanted to tell him about their mother using the Cruciatus curse on him. He wanted to tell him how many times it had taken their mother hitting him before she broke his rib with her cane. He wanted to tell Sirius about the Death Eaters and Voldemort and how they were going to make him join at the end of the year. Take the Dark Mark and be a leader in their stupid, pointless, worthless war. He wanted to tell Sirius just how fucking lonely he was. But he couldn’t. Because Sirius didn’t care. Sirius had effectively disowned himself the year before and had been with the Potters every holiday break since. And not once had he said a word to Regulus. Not even to see if he was okay. And Regulus envied him his freedom so much it made his skin crawl and he hated Sirius for not being around to talk to.

Somehow Regulus found himself in a familiar corridor on the seventh floor and a door appeared in front of him. He walked straight towards it, waving his wand at the handle and stepping inside as it opened.

He closed the door firmly behind him, taking in the sight of James Potter’s bedroom with relief. Or rather, how James’ bedroom had looked the one time Regulus had seen it all those years ago when James invited them to some Muggle match and Sirius had – for once – brought Regulus along.

The Room of Requirement always knew what he needed, even if he didn’t know it himself. The memory was one he had long returned to. An untainted, truly good memory. One he had once felt utterly safe in. But nothing felt truly safe anymore.

Perhaps it was the encounter with James that had brought the bedroom back to mind, but he at least felt better in the replicated memory than he had anywhere else that day.

Hanging his black school robes on the hook that had appeared on the back of the door, Regulus wandered over to the mirror and unbuttoned his shirt with measured motions. He let it fall to the ground and stared at the damage on his torso.

He was, quite frankly, a mess. The crest on his mother’s cane had indented itself in several of the deeper bruises. If left alone, the scars would be numerous.

When he was younger, he’d beg her for healing potions to make all the cuts and welts vanish. He hadn’t ever let the marks become scars before. It was only this past summer that he’d clenched his jaw and refused to beg. Refused to even acknowledge the pain. Somehow it felt like it gave him a say in the matter, although he knew that was an absurd coping mechanism. 

Wandering over to the bed, he sat down. His eyes flicked from poster to poster, some Muggle, some magical. He stared at them until tears burned his eyes and he looked away. A photograph on the bedside table then caught his attention. It showed James, Sirius and the other two members of their little club, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Their arms were all slung around each other and all four were laughing.

The loneliness inside him seemed to grow teeth and pain splintered through his insides.

He just wanted it to stop.

A phial suddenly appeared on the bedside table.

Regulus froze, heartrate picking up instantly.

It was a dangerous thing having a room that granted you whatever you wanted.

He reached out, hand trembling. It didn’t need a label for him to recognise its contents. He had seen the potion first in an advanced potions book in the library’s restricted section, and then later in his mother’s cabinet at home.  A quick-killing potion. This one appeared to be from Slughorn’s stash, although Regulus couldn’t fathom why he had it. Not that he truly cared.

He thought about Sirius.

He thought about his parents.

He thought about the deaths he’d read about in the newspaper and how his cousin Bella talked eagerly about ‘exterminating vermin’. How Voldemort had talked about erasing the world’s ‘impurities’. How his parents had looked so hungry for Muggle, and Muggle-born witch and wizard, deaths.

Regulus opened the phial and downed it before he could think about anything else.

He just wanted it all to stop.

The potion tasted deceptively sweet and went down like honey.

He curled up on James Potter’s bed and gazed at his brother laughing in the photograph until darkness took him.

***

‘I’ll meet you there in half an hour,’ James assured Sirius, ushering him towards the door, slightly tipsy and unable to stop grinning. After the feast, they’d thrown a party to welcome back all the Gryffindors and get to know the new arrivals. Things had escalated – just a smidge – and Lily Evans had ended the night by informing him that he was not allowed to go to bed until he’d cleaned it all up himself.

‘We can wait.’

‘Nah, go before Lily gives you detention!’

‘She’s a right minx, that one.’ Sirius winked at him as he stepped out of the portrait hole. ‘Hurry! Or all the whiskey will be gone!’

‘It better not be!’ James yelled after him.

‘I’ll save at least one bottle,’ said Peter before tearing after Sirius.

‘And I have pumpkin juice,’ said Remus. He lingered at the entrance. ‘You sure you don’t need a hand?’

‘No. Lily gave strict instructions.’

‘She’s not even here.’

‘You know I’m a terrible liar. And I always keep my word to a lady.’

‘All right. But hurry. The sooner we tire Sirius out, the sooner we can all get to bed.’

Laughing and waving him on, James returned to tidying up the common room. Honestly, it was like the girl had no sense of humour. What was wrong with a small indoor fireworks display to celebrate the first night of their final year?

James had just finished mending the burn marks on the sofas and chairs with his wand, humming the Sorting Hat’s latest song under his breath, when a ghost floated through the wall in front of him.

‘Merlin!’ He jumped, a hand going to his chest. ‘Warn a bloke!’

Oddly, it wasn’t Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor ghost. It was the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost. James wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the Grey Lady speak, not once in all his years at Hogwarts. And he certainly wasn’t expecting her to reply. Until—

‘Your friend’s brother,’ she said urgently, ‘the Slytherin boy.’

James straightened up, the tone of her voice draining all drunkenness from him and leaving him feeling coldly sober. ‘Regulus? What about him?’

‘You need to go to the room where things are hidden. Now.’

‘The what?’

‘Go to the seventh floor. It’ll be there. You’ll find him.’

‘Why? What’s he done this time?’

‘Just go!’ She all but screamed it.

The force of her cry prompted James into a sprint and he tore out of the common room, through the portrait hole and down the corridors towards the seventh floor.

Even without specifics, he knew something was badly, badly wrong. But what? Regulus had been quiet in the prefects’ meeting on the train – other than being downright confrontational with his House mates, which was unusual. James remembered them being close only the term before. But nothing had seemed very worrisome other than his admittance to meeting Lord Voldemort in person. (Which, frankly, was bloody horrifying.) What had changed?

A few stragglers remained in the corridors, but James ignored their greetings as he raced across the marble floors. He reached the seventh floor in record time and was halfway down it when a door shivered into place.

He stopped short, bewildered. There was a room in Hogwarts he didn’t know about?

Pursing his lips, heart still slamming in his chest, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

To his astonishment, it was his bedroom. Sort of. There were posters on the wall he’d thrown away years ago, and old furniture that had long since been swapped with other pieces from around the house. And there, on a bed with a blanket that he’d not seen in years, lay Regulus Black.

It took James a second to realise that the strange design on Regulus’ chest wasn’t a fabric choice, but a smattering of horrible bruises and welts contrasting against his pale skin. It took another second for him to realise that Regulus wasn’t moving.

He didn’t appear to be breathing, either.

‘Fuck!’ James bolted to his side. ‘Regulus! Regulus! Wake up!’

Shouting did nothing.

Shaking him did nothing.

Slapping his cheek did nothing.

‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ James looked wildly around the room. There was no sign of the Grey Lady. ‘Help me!’

A large flask appeared on the bedside table beside his favourite photograph of him and the other Marauders. Seizing it, James tried to manoeuvre Regulus into a sitting position, a task that quickly proved impossible to maintain while trying to get him to drink and stay upright at the same time.

Cursing, James crawled in behind him and pulled Regulus close to his chest. Now able to keep him upright, James tilted his head back and brought the flask to his lips.

It got everywhere, dribbling down the sides of Regulus’ mouth, chin and neck, splattering onto his bare chest. After several seconds of fumbling, James finally saw Regulus swallow. Slowly at first, then more easily. Each time his Adam’s apple bobbed, James felt like crying.

‘That’s it,’ he murmured encouragingly. ‘That’s it. Come on, mate. Keep going.’ He pressed his fingers to Regulus’ throat, feeling for his pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

James let out a ragged laugh and placed the now empty flask back on the bedside table before wrapping his arms more securely around Regulus. ‘I’ve got you,’ he found himself saying, the fear of Regulus dying still catapulting through his chest and hitting with him jarring moments of overwhelming anxiety every time he thought he’d started to calm down. ‘I’ve got you.’

Regulus didn’t react, but his heartbeat thumped strongly under James’ touch and where he’d been like stone when James first reached him, now he seemed to melt against James, as if craving warmth. James let him. Regulus was smaller than Sirius and thinner, but James didn’t ever remember him being this thin or this … fragile. It gave life to a kind of fear he had no experience with and James felt unsteady even while sitting down.

The Grey Lady suddenly came through the door. ‘You found him,’ she observed, relieved.

James tried to reply, but his voice stuck in his throat three times before he was able to free it. ‘Why—why me? Why didn’t you get Pomfrey or Dumbledore?’

‘The room will only open to those the dweller wants to let in. A breaking spell would have taken too long. He was close to death. Too close. I thought you’d have better luck. This is your room, is it not? Perhaps something about you comforts him.’

‘Did you tell any professors?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

The Grey Lady nodded to Regulus’ bare chest. ‘Do you suppose he did that to himself? Had I reported him after telling you, his parents would be notified. That seemed especially cruel. He’s a kind boy. He watches. He listens. I’ve always liked him. He’s not like the ones he used to hang out with. Fortunately.’

James glanced again at the bruises. In between the purple, blue, black and yellow of the wounds, angry red welts criss-crossed older, faded white marks.

‘The year he saw this room, he went swimming with us. I saw his skin. He was fine, then. What happened?’ He wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical, but the Grey Lady answered anyhow.

‘Perhaps he wasn’t fine then. Perhaps he’s simply given up pretending to be fine now.’

James wanted to get sick. Everywhere.

‘Will you stay with him?’ There was a sharpness to her glare and tone that James had never encountered.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he promised. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

‘Good.’

He had expected her to leave, but to his surprise, she lingered. A silence took hold for a time in the wake of their conversation. Not awkward, but too heavy to be moved on from or brushed away.

At some point Regulus rolled over, curling into his chest and tucking his head into the crook of James’ arm.

Compelled by an overwhelming urge to comfort him – which, honestly, didn’t seem possible given all that had just transpired – James reached out and carded his fingers through Regulus’ hair. Regulus leaned into his touch and the furrow of his brow lessened somewhat.

‘You’re safe,’ James found himself saying. ‘No one here but us.’

Regulus relaxed slightly, and James continued playing with his hair until the trauma of the night finally caught up with him and, at last, he too fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Regulus woke up from a sleep of dark, twisted dreams with a splitting headache and a dry mouth, like someone had scrapped sandpaper across his tongue and gums. But these concerns faded fast as he realised first that he was awake – which was far more alive than he’d intended to be the night before – and secondly, James Potter, his brother’s best friend, was all but wrapped around him.

‘He saved your life.’

Regulus’ eyes snapped to the ghost hovering a few paces away. It was the Grey Lady. One of the many ghosts he had conversations with from time to time and considered something of an ally in the cold halls of Hogwarts. She was one of the most intelligent beings he’d ever met and her advice on spellwork had never failed him when she’d peered over his notes and made quiet suggestions. He didn’t know what to make of her presence in the room now, however. Had she told James?

‘Don’t be so quick to throw your life away,’ she continued, floating closer. She was far more sombre than usual, which he would not have thought possible. ‘You are young, Mr Black. You are still so young.’

Regulus didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t felt young in a long, long time. But the desire to give up on everything was not as choking as it had been the night before.

‘Don’t be so quick to throw him away, either,’ she added, inclining her head towards James. ‘I’ve never seen anyone run so fast. There is no faking that sort of concern. You are not as alone as you fear.’

And then she floated back through the opposite wall.

Regulus tried to sit up, but James’ arms were locked around him and tightened instinctively when he shifted. Confusion and shame burned through him as he realised what James must have seen upon arrival, but beneath those feelings, a strange curiosity brewed.

James Potter had come for him.

James Potter, his brother’s best friend, had saved his life.

Much as he wanted not to care, not to read too much into it, Regulus did. James Potter, the boy he had admired and liked his whole life, had not left his side all night.

James’ eyes suddenly snapped open. ‘Hi,’ he murmured.

‘Hi.’

‘How do you feel?’

‘Like I died,’ said Regulus bluntly.

Something changed in James’ hazel eyes. ‘Was it your parents or the Slytherins?’

‘Was what?’

James nodded to his battered chest. The bruises looked somehow worse in the morning light streaming in from the window above them.

‘What, this gorgeous work of blood art? Courtesy of dear old Mum.’ Regulus’ voice dripped with bitterness. ‘Or did you mean the scar on the back of my neck? My father did at the start of summer. The shredding of my stuff on the train yesterday after the meeting? I think that was Milicent Avery. The spreading of rumours? That’s down to Evan Rosier. The black substance that burned an irreparable hole in all of my books that not even Lily Evans could mend? I reckon Severus Snape came up with that one. The burning of my diaries last term? I believe Barty Crouch was the mastermind.’ Rattling it all off leeched from him the few vestiges of energy he had left. ‘You’re going to have to pick a more specific moment of torture, Potter. I’ve racked up quite a number if I do say so myself. I believe even Sirius will admit I’ve surpassed him now as the Black sheep. Pun entirely fucking intended.’ Regulus searched James’ face for clues about his thoughts. ‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’

James shook his head slowly, clearly still absorbing Regulus’ confession. ‘Only the Grey Lady knows. I swear. I’ve been here all night. I haven’t even seen anyone but you.’

Regulus relaxed a fraction.

‘You can’t go back into that house,’ said James abruptly.

Regulus snorted. ‘Which one?’

‘Either. Both. You can stay at mine for hols this Christmas and next summer, and sleep in this brilliant little replica room until we’ve dealt with the Slytherins.’

‘I am a Slytherin.’

‘I don’t see you bullying anyone.’

‘I can handle a few bullies.’

‘Can you?’ James said it gently, but his expression was furrowed with unguarded concern.

‘Last night was … a bad night. I’ll be fine.’

James glared pointedly at him. ‘You let me help, little serpent, or I’m going to Dumbledore and telling him everything.’

The prospect of telling Dumbledore made every alarm inside of him go off. No, he did not want any adults to know. Every time something got back to his parents, everything got worse.

‘Just ...’ James leaned over Regulus slightly, his body a warm shield against the chill of the room. He was so solid. Unyielding. And there was something so unfathomably comforting about his stance that Regulus wanted to let him. Wanted to let James do for him what no one else ever had – give a shit.

Sure enough, James continued: ‘Just let me help you, Regulus.’ He said Regulus’ name quieter. Softer. ‘Let me look aft—out for you.’

Regulus did not miss the half swallowed word and the gratitude almost strangled him. He wasn’t sure why James cared so much, but he felt pathetically grateful for it. ‘You can’t fix everyone, Potter,’ he rasped.

‘You don’t know me very well, Black.’

‘Sirius won’t want me around.’

‘Sirius doesn’t dictate my life.’

‘Since when?’

James’ scowl only deepened.

‘I don’t want him to know.’ Regulus had to work very hard to keep himself from crying. Begging James to keep the night’s events between them wasn’t entirely out of the equation and he was clinging to the last shreds of his pride with everything he had. The thought of his brother pitying him was beyond intolerable. Sirius had left him behind. He didn’t now get to feel bad about it.

‘I won’t tell him about your parents. Or about what you told me on the train. Or about last night. That’s all your business. But can I tell him the Slytherins are being dicks and I’m planning on doing something about it?’

After a beat, Regulus’ lips twitched. ‘What are you planning on doing about it?’

‘It’s a plan in progress. But a wizard never reveals his tricks, little serpent.’

Regulus eyed him uncertainly. ‘Nothing about my parents. Nothing about last night. I mean it, Potter. You tell him and I’ll never forgive you.’

‘I promise.’ James thrust out a hand and Regulus shook it belatedly, not quite sure what to make of James Potter.

An air of determination settled over James after that and he crawled out of the bed. Clapping his hands together, he looked around thoughtfully. ‘We just need—’

A jar appeared on the bedside table.

‘Brilliant.’ James snatched it up and gestured to Regulus. ‘Sit up.’

Regulus sat up gingerly, his entire body stinging and aching. As if James hadn’t surprised him enough, he began to gently apply the balm to the wounds and welts on Regulus’ torso.

The pain vanished upon contact and he huffed in relief. Somehow what he’d been unable to do yesterday felt all right coming from James.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured.

‘Any time.’ James leaned in to catch his eye and winked.

Regulus managed a small smile.

‘Here.’ James took off his shirt, leaving him only in an undershirt that showed off his pale arms, well-toned from years of playing Quidditch. Then, to Regulus’ enduring surprise, he proceeded to help Regulus into it and began to button it for him.

‘My hands work,’ he teased, voice soft and still raspy.

‘The knight who saves the damsel gets to be in charge. I don’t make the rules.’

Regulus couldn’t help the smirk. ‘That feels vaguely chauvinistic, Potter.’

‘Tough.’ James flashed a grin, but the worry did not leave his eyes and Regulus decided to not protest the overbearing actions. In truth, it had been so long since anyone had fussed over him – let alone been kind to him – that James could probably have talked him into being carried.

Thankfully for his pride, James didn’t go that far. He fixed the green and black tie loosely around Regulus’ neck, nodded to himself, and then went to retrieve Regulus’ black school robes.

‘People will talk when they see us together, you know? Are you certain you want that, Potter?’

Even now, Regulus feared his mother’s reaction. She might not be able to beat him at school, but she would remember. She always remembered.

‘Then I’ll shut them up,’ said James, wholly unbothered. ‘Everyone knows I love Sirius. Hanging out with you makes perfect sense.’

‘Except for the fact that we’ve never hung out.’

‘We did once.’ James gestured to the room. ‘Must’ve made some kind of impression.’

Regulus felt his face warming. ‘It was a good weekend. Don’t get many of them. Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise, mate. I know I’m amazing.’ James winked at him. ‘Besides, the upside to being my friend is everyone wants to be my friend. Give it a week and no one will give you shit.’

‘You’re the epitome of humility, James Potter.’

‘So I’ve been told. Now, let’s go get breakfast. You need something in your stomach that isn’t potion and my coffee needs are dire. Oh! Here!’ James tugged a hat from his robes’ pocket, placed it on Regulus’ head and tugged it low over his ears. He then carefully tucked the stray black curls underneath the fabric.

‘A hat?’

‘All sick people need a hat.’

‘I’m not sick. I’m post-suicidal.’

James flinched at these words and Regulus instantly felt bad. But James had righted his expression in seconds and his smile shone even brighter than before. ‘Then evidentially you need a hat collection, my little serpent.’

‘Fine,’ said Regulus. ‘I’ll wear the sick hat.’

‘Excellent!’ James regarded him for a moment. ‘Will you – will you promise me something?’

‘What?’

A small noise. Almost uncertain. ‘Come get me.’ James sounded different now. ‘Run, walk, yell, smoke signal, send an owl, hold my hand – I don’t care. If you feel like this—’ He gestured at the bed where he’d found Regulus the night before. ‘—come get me.’

‘Not even Sirius would go to this much trouble, Potter. It was a bad night. It won’t happen again.’

‘Promise me.’

‘Fine, Potter. I promise.’

‘Good. Now let’s go get some food.’

Regulus wasn’t hungry, but James steered him from the Room of Requirement without asking for his opinion on the matter.

The Great Hall was about a third full, most students having dispersed for class or gone off to spend time with their friends away from the keen eyes of the teachers. James led Regulus to the far end of the Gryffindor table and gestured for him to sit. Regulus sat, but whatever calm James had brought to his heart in the privacy of the Room of Requirement had vanished under the hungry eyes of the Slytherins.

James sat beside him. Close. The feeling of being guarded by a protective animal came to Regulus; it was comforting.

‘What can you stomach?’ asked James.

‘Not much,’ he muttered.

‘Right.’ James plucked two slices of toast from the rack in front of them, buttered both, and then put one on Regulus’ plate. The other he all but inhaled.

‘Potter, there you are! You didn’t even—’ Lily Evans stopped mid-sentence, visibly taken aback by the sight of Regulus at the Gryffindor table. ‘Oh. Hi, Reg. I thought you were your brother. The delinquents didn’t clean up their mess last night.’

Regulus had no idea what she was talking about, but the reminder that he was easily mistaken for his brother annoyed him to no end.

‘Sorry, Evans. Damsel duty called.’

Regulus choked.

Lily sat down across from them and leaned in on her elbows. ‘Milicent again?’

‘Some of our fellows have failed to be hospitable, dear Evans. And I’ve decided that will not do.’

‘I agree.’

The forced levity in James’ voice, barely concealing his rage, clashed with Lily’s audible anger, but their eyes mirrored their dislike of the Slytherins. Regulus would have laughed if he wasn’t so tired.

‘Oh, that reminds me!’ Lily snapped her fingers twice before thrusting a hand into her bag. She then promptly removed ten books. They were a little battered and worn, but it was a complete set of the ones that had been destroyed on the train.

James and Regulus stared at her.

‘What …’ James looked from her tiny bag to the books, clearly marvelling at Lily’s magical accomplishments.

‘These are for you.’ She pushed them over to Regulus. ‘I asked around and found all the Sixth Year books you need.’

Regulus’ throat tightened with gratitude. ‘Thank you, Lily.’

‘Of course! Least I could do. Here. Hand me your bag and I’ll sort you out.’

‘You’re a genius, Evans,’ said James proudly as Regulus handed her his bag. He knew the spell, too, but it didn’t seem polite to say as much when she was offering. Seconds later all the books were inside and she passed the bag back.

‘There. Now you won’t have to find replacements or bother your parents about it.’

Regulus bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

‘Here,’ said James, pouring him a goblet of orange juice and passing it to him. ‘All the vitamins. Chug.’

‘I am not chugging orange juice, Potter.’

‘I bet it’d be funny if you did, though. I’ll even chant. Chug! Chug! Chu—’

‘No, Potter.’

‘Please?’

Lily smacked James fondly with a rolled up copy of The Daily Prophet. ‘Leave the man alone to drink his juice how he sees fit.’

‘Thank you, Lily,’ he said again. She beamed at him. In truth Regulus felt stupidly grateful. Had done since he woke up. The loneliness that felt like it was going to drown him last night now seemed like a passing tide, the waves gone in the distance, the sunlight once again visible.

‘Oi, Prongs!’

Regulus flinched, badly, at the sound of his brother’s voice.

‘Prongs, where’d—’ Sirius stopped short. Regulus didn’t need to look up to know his brother was glaring a hole into the top of his head. ‘Prongs, what is this?’

‘I’ll go,’ whispered Regulus.

‘No,’ said James firmly. ‘Lils, can you hang a sec?’

‘Of course.’

James squeezed Regulus’ arm again before getting up and walking over to Sirius. They left the Great Hall trading heated words. Despite James’ bold words earlier, Regulus didn’t believe he’d truly stick around if Sirius was annoyed by it. And Sirius had been annoyed by Regulus for years.

‘I should get to class,’ he announced, not wanting to linger a second longer. Not wanting to deal with it. He stood. ‘Thank you, Lily.’

‘Wait, Regulus, he’ll—’

‘I’ll see you later. Cheers for the books.’

He left the hall before she could stop him.

The halls were mostly deserted and no one bothered him as he made his way upstairs. He had double Transfiguration that morning. Normally he enjoyed the class, but he didn’t feel currently capable of enjoying anything really.

The room was empty when he arrived and he slipped into a seat at the far corner. Crossing his arms and placing them on the desk, he closed his eyes and dozed until the other students began to file in.

The Slytherins all avoided him, but Alfred Diggory, a Hufflepuff who tended to mind his own business, took the spare seat beside him.

Regulus stared at the wall while McGonagall talked about the aims of the year’s spellwork and what their assignments would generally entail. He tried to care but couldn’t. It was only when McGonagall prompted him to take out his quill and parchment that he moved. He dutifully took notes for the rest of class, but he didn’t absorb any of it.

At the end of class, McGonagall called to him to wait, and he stayed in his chair, quietly relieved that the others were leaving first.

‘Mr Black, is everything all right?’ she asked when she reached his table. She’d always reminded him of a wise old owl. There was something ageless and timeless and all knowing about her that he’d respected since he was eleven years old. Even now, it seemed like she knew more about him than he did. It was also uniquely unsettling.

‘Miss Evans reported the incident on the train and it has not escaped my notice that you’re not sitting with your friends this year.’

He sighed. Everyone at Hogwarts was a gossip, apparently. ‘Evans shouldn’t have said anything. It’s a stupid in-House fight. Really.’

‘A prefect’s duty is to report bullying, Mr Black. Even if it’s being done to the prefect in question.’ McGonagall peered over her glasses at him. ‘If the other students are harassing you, Mr Black, I can have a word with Professor—’

‘No, please, Professor. You know what people are like. Tattling will make it a thousand times worse. Please don’t put me in that position. Please.’

Clearly unhappy with this request, McGonagall nonetheless nodded. ‘All right, Mr Black, if you’re certain. But if matters get worse, please let me know and we can look into alternative sleeping arrangements for you. You are not trapped. Am I understood?’

‘Yes, Professor. Thank you.’

Regulus stood, bowed his head respectfully, and departed. It was a strange thing to find support from three Gryffindors in one day, especially after years of tense coexistence and thinly veiled tolerance, but Regulus felt a surge of loyalty to the opposing House that he hadn’t felt for his own House in years. Three people who didn’t know him, but who might actually notice if he was dead. It meant more to him than he knew how to handle at that current moment.

The other students had trailed off to their next class and the corridor was deserted save for one student.

‘This is stalking,’ he said, but his lips twitched in near amusement.

James strolled over and took Regulus’ book bag off his shoulder, slinging it over his own.

‘I—’

‘You’re in the sick hat,’ said James, as if that was somehow a reasonable argument. ‘No one in the sick hat carries their book bag.’

Regulus raised an eyebrow. ‘I do believe you’re making all this up.’

‘Never. It’s the Gryffindor Code.’

‘I’m sure.’ But Regulus didn’t take his bag back. Whatever Sirius had said to James, it hadn’t meant the end of James giving a shit about him and Regulus felt sick with relief. He wanted to ask what Sirius had said, but his mouth refused to form the question.

‘Where to, little serpent?’

He set off towards the staircase and James fell in beside him. ‘You know that sounds like an insult?’

‘Why? Snakes are cute at times. Nice, even. It’s not like there aren’t dickhead lions. As my father tells me, “There’s shitheads everywhere, but also diamonds.”’

‘Poetic.’

‘And very true.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘What about “little fox”? Foxes are cunning, like snakes, but less volatile as regards terminology in these walls.’ James seemed to think himself a genius for these two nicknames and Regulus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or roll his eyes. He’d never met anyone quite like James Potter before.

‘Why am I little in both options?’ he wondered aloud.

James slung an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close and filling Regulus’ nose with the scent of his shampoo. ‘Because.’

It wasn’t an answer, but Regulus let him have it.

‘Now,’ said James as they reached the top of the stairs. ‘Where to?’

‘I have History and Potions after lunch. Free until then.’

‘Excellent. Want to come watch the Quidditch try-outs?’

‘Is that allowed?’

‘I am the Captain. I make the rules.’

‘And I’m your competition. I’m your biggest competition.’

‘I thought we just established that you’re little.’

‘So help me—’

‘I jest, little fox. Come now. I’d never insult your Seeker skills. You have a good eye. I’d like to know your thoughts on the new players.’

‘You want a Slytherin’s thoughts on Gryffindor hopefuls?’

‘Isn’t Milicent Avery on your team?’

Regulus’ mind snapped back to the encounter on the train the day before. ‘Good point. Let’s go get you the best players.’

James clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically. ‘See! My little fox!’

If Regulus was honest, he was starting to like James’ silly little endearments.

The pitch was already abuzz when they arrived ten minutes later, a breeze nipping at their necks. They stopped by the stands and James handed Regulus his bag back.

Remus and Peter, several seats up, waved. James waved back before glancing at Regulus. ‘Do you want to—’

‘I’ll sit here.’ The prospect of making small talk with Remus and Peter sounded like a new kind of torture if he was being honest.

‘Okay. But wait for me. No bolting this time, yeah?’

‘Sure.’

‘I mean it.’

‘I’ll stay.’ Regulus widened his eyes teasingly. ‘It’s not like I have anywhere better to be.’

James put his hand to his chest in mock offence. ‘I love it when people say that to me.’

Waving him away, Regulus sat down and watched as James took flight. He was remarkably graceful, both on the ground and in the sky, and Regulus followed his flightpath with a small smile. It vanished when he saw who James was flying to. Sirius bumped fists with James and Regulus looked away, resolutely ignoring his brother. He knew James had been joking about giving feedback, but Regulus watched each new player with a critical eye. It was easy to tell which students had only just started on a broomstick and which had spent their childhoods flying.

James was a good captain, paying attention to each player in turn and giving active feedback to everyone. It never sounded condescending or undercutting. He didn’t seem to favour any one player over another, not even Sirius, although the pair couldn’t entirely keep their composure when James critiqued Sirius’ form and told him to try another move. But it was good natured. Brotherly.

It also made Regulus bitterly jealous, although he wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of.

‘Oi, Black!’

Barty Crouch, Evan Rosier and Severus Snape were making their way over. His heart sank, but Regulus didn’t move or acknowledge them in any way. It took more than a few Slytherins to startle him. His parents were far more frightening, after all.

‘Cheering for the Gryffindors, Black?’ Malice coated Evan’s tone. ‘Wait until your teammates hear about this.’

Beside him, Barty was almost vibrating with glee.

‘We’ll be sure to tell them how you’ve become Potter’s pet,’ said Severus. ‘It’s fitting really. Your brother licks his boots, why not you?’

Regulus said nothing.

‘I think he’s more than just a pet,’ Barty continued. ‘We all know Regulus is a right little p—’

‘Carry on, Crouch, and see how quickly you get detention,’ called a calm voice from the stands behind Regulus. ‘I’m sure Slughorn will be pleased.’

‘Oh, ho! Is it fags defending fags, Lupin?’

Regulus was up before he’d quite processed it, the words hitting a fuse inside of him and setting off an explosion of fury. He seized Barty by the collar and slammed his fist into his face as hard as he possibly could. He didn’t feel the pain in his knuckles as they split apart, he only knew that he wanted Barty to bleed. Sixteen years of rage burst out of him and he didn’t even realise just how much he’d snapped until a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, dragging him back from the pile of bloody limbs that was Barty.

‘Say it again,’ he snarled, the urge to beat Barty’s smug face back into his skull burning through his veins. ‘Say it again you ignorant fuck.’

‘He’s out, Regulus,’ said Remus, his arms a vice grip around Regulus. ‘He’s out. Calm down, mate. You’ve more than won this round.’

Regulus blinked rapidly, his grasp on sanity tentative at best.

‘You fucking psycho,’ seethed Severus from where he was kneeling beside Barty, inspecting his prone form.

‘He’s a fucking fag, what’d you expect?’ spat Evan.

Regulus lunged again, but Remus had a firm grip on his waist and he couldn’t disentangle himself.

‘One more word out of you, Rosier, and I’ll curse you myself,’ said Peter loudly, moving between them all. ‘You’re a right arsehole, you know that? Honestly, was it worth it? Being a prick?’

‘What happened?’ A new voice had joined the fray and Regulus’ head snapped up to see James, Sirius and half a dozen others making their way over at a run, brooms discarded on the pitch behind them.

Peter said, ‘Crouch, Rosier and Snape were being charming as ever. Regulus was standing up for Moony.’

‘He’s right,’ said Marlene McKinnon, who’d come down from the other side of the stands. ‘Those three started it.’

‘What did they say?’ Sirius looked from Remus to the Slytherins and back again. ‘Moony, what’d they say? I need to know how hard to swing.’

‘Like you could,’ said Snape.

‘Try me, Snivellus.’

‘It was nothing,’ said Regulus. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss this with Sirius and this time when he pulled away, Remus let him go.

Seizing his bag from the stands, Regulus left the growing crowd and started back towards the castle. His heart was slamming in his chest, but not because of the Slytherins and their bigotry.

‘Regulus—’

‘Leave it, Pads,’ he heard Remus say. In seconds Remus was by his side, falling into step with him. ‘Are you all right?’

Regulus’ jaw was clenched too tightly to reply.

‘No,’ Remus concluded. ‘Of course you aren’t. Don’t worry about detention. We all witnessed it. He had it coming.’

Regulus didn’t care. At least detention would give him another excuse not to be around any of the other students. He made it to the treeline of the Forbidden Forest before doubling over, upending the contents of his stomach onto the dirt and fallen pine needles that littered the forest floor.

Remus rubbed his back in what was clearly meant as a soothing gesture but which put pressure on the still sensitive wounds from his mother’s beating, and caused Regulus to cry out in pain and jerk away.

Remus quickly stopped. ‘Sorry—’

‘Don’t. I’m fine.’

‘Here.’ Remus pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it out.

Regulus took the cloth gratefully and wiped his mouth. ‘Cheers, Lupin.’

‘Sure.’

‘Did he hear?’

‘Who?’

‘Sirius. Did he hear what they said?’

Remus frowned. ‘Oh. Ah. I don’t think so. He was still in the air until you were a few hits in.’

Regulus ran a shaky hand over his mouth.

‘Why—’ Remus stopped abruptly, attention moving to someone over Regulus’ shoulder. ‘Professor Dumbledore, sir.’

Regulus closed his eyes and cursed silently.

‘Mr Black. Mr Lupin,’ greeted Dumbledore, and Regulus forced himself to turn around. ‘I believe you both have had an exciting morning. What seems to be the problem?’

Before Regulus or Remus could reply, James pelted into view, Sirius and Peter hot on his heels. Regulus didn’t miss the blood on James and Sirius’ knuckles. As if the day hadn’t been eventful enough.

‘Professor! Professor!’ James skidded to a halt at Regulus’ side. ‘Professor, it wasn’t his fault. Ask anyone. Crouch, Rosier and Snape started in on him and Remus. They—they said some really awful things.’

Dumbledore bowed his head at this before returning his attention to Regulus. ‘Mr Black, would you like to have a private chat? We can discuss anything you’d like.’

‘No. No, thank you, sir. I, ah …’ Regulus felt his stomach roil. ‘I’ll take the detention.’

‘You will not!’ James looked beside himself at the mere prospect. ‘He called you and Remus fa—’

‘I was there, Potter. Just leave it.’

‘James is right.’ Remus turned to Dumbledore, exuding a maturity far beyond his years. ‘That’s what he said to us. And it wasn’t intended as a compliment, I assure you.’

‘I see.’ Dumbledore looked from one to the other, no doubt seeing things in all of them they didn’t want shared with the group. But his eyes remained kind, and his next words came out gentle. ‘Mr Black, I’m obliged to offer you a chance to speak with your parents. You may of course lodge a formal complaint, in which case a reprimand will be written up against the offending students.’

Regulus shook his head wildly at the same time Sirius snorted and muttered, ‘Fat lot of good that’ll do.’

‘Please don’t, sir.’ Regulus now felt deeply unwell and he swayed slightly on his feet.

Not missing a thing, James put an arm around his shoulders. Regulus heard his brother’s shocked reaction.

‘Sir,’ said James, ‘I don’t think telling Mr and Mrs Black about baseless accusations will help anything. You know how some parents can take that sort of suggestion up wrong even with nothing to back it up. No point in making things worse for Regulus when he’s the one getting crap from others, right? That’s not fair. The ones defending themselves shouldn’t get in trouble with their parents.’

‘He’s right,’ said Sirius, and Regulus’ small hope that Sirius was too stupid to catch what was happening vanished instantly. ‘Our parents won’t care if it’s a rumour. Rumours in our family can get ugly. They won’t be on Regulus’ side. They’ll say that Rosier, Crouch and Snape were in the right for fighting to “save” the Black family from further perversion. They’re the kind to think beating the gay out of someone is sound advice.’

Their parents thought a lot of things could be beaten out of you, Regulus thought bitterly.

Dumbledore sighed heavily, but his next words left Regulus weak with relief. ‘All right, Mr Black. We’ll leave your parents out of it. Mr Lupin, Mr Pettigrew, if you both could give me your accounts of what transpired, I will make a determination of how to handle this matter internally.’

Remus glanced at Regulus, as if for permission. Regulus nodded, surprised, and Remus smiled. ‘Of course, sir,’ he said, returning his attention to Dumbledore.

The small show of respect and solidarity made Regulus like Remus even more.

‘Of course, yeah,’ echoed Peter.

‘Very good.’ Dumbledore smiled approvingly at the lot of them. ‘Now, Mr Potter, why don’t you and Mr Black go to the hospital wing and get yourselves checked over? I worry about the state of your hands.’

‘Are we in trouble, sir?’ James was still standing beside Regulus, fingers curled in the fabric of Regulus’ sleeve as if ready to put Regulus behind him. It was stupidly charming, even in so uncomfortable a moment.

‘I think perhaps we can let this scuffle go without a detention, Mr Potter,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I do, after all, encourage standing up for oneself and one’s friends. But in future, please report such matters to a professor.’

‘Yes, sir,’ all five answered in turn when he looked from boy to boy.

With that settled, Regulus let James steer him away from the forest and back towards the castle. To his displeasure, Sirius fell in beside them.

They made it halfway before his brother ruined the perfectly decent silence by talking.

‘Not a bad right hook,’ he said, nudging Regulus with his elbow. ‘Didn’t think you had it in you. I’m impressed.’

Fuming, Regulus halted and rounded on him. ‘Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t join in.’

Sirius scoffed. ‘You’re a twit at times, bro, but they were bang out of order.’

‘How?’

James tugged lightly on his arm. ‘Regulus—’

‘No, let him speak.’ Regulus glared at his brother. ‘Let’s hear how him saying it is any different from Rosier saying it. Let’s hear him say how it’s any different from Crouch calling me a pervert. Or Snape calling me disgusting.’

Sirius had gone deathly pale. ‘W-what? I—I didn’t—’

‘Yeah, you did.’

‘When?’

Regulus almost spat on him. ‘Figure out.’

‘Reg—’

‘No, fuck you, Sirius.’ Regulus stepped away from both of them, anger rising anew in his chest. Anger, and nausea. Because no matter how mad he currently was, he still hated knowing that his brother held him in no higher esteem than Evan Rosier. ‘You’ve just reminded me that there’s no real difference between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Not when it comes right down to it. We’re all deeply disappointing to each other. I’m a disappointment to you? Brother, there’s no one in the universe more disappointed in you than me.’

He walked away before it became too much and he got sick again or started to cry. Really both were likely and doing either in front of his brother was simply not an option.

He wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse about the fact that James didn’t follow him this time.

A horrible silence filled the space between James and Sirius in the wake of Regulus’ accusation.

‘Did you really say that to him? I’ve heard you call yourself that, Sirius, and you meant it as a compliment. I’ve never heard you use that word to be cruel. You’ve punched bullies for less.’ Sirius was, as far as sexuality went, one of the most open minded people he knew. And that was before he’d confessed to James that he was in love with Remus and had been for years. It didn’t make sense.

‘I …’ Sirius rubbed his face roughly with his hand. ‘Fuck. I did.’ He shook his head, eyes wide with self-loathing and horror. ‘I think I was thirteen? My father and mother had learned one of our cousins was gay. It was the first time I’d ever heard their opinions on homosexuality. And they weren’t good opinions.’ Sirius raked a hand through his shaggy black hair. ‘He – my cousin – was thrown out, cut off. They fucking wished death on him. Worse, I heard them talk about how they were going to kill his partner. A Muggle man he’d fallen in love with. I think—I think Bellatrix suggested telling Voldemort.’

It was so much worse than James could possibly have imagined.

‘I was so scared back then,’ Sirius barrelled on. ‘All I knew was that I liked Moony and liking Moony could get him killed if my family found out. So I did everything I could not to mention it after that. Not to let them ever suspect me. Suspect Remus. So when Lucius and Bella overheard Regulus once at a dinner party asking me what was so wrong with two blokes getting married, I told him …’ Sirius held out his hands. ‘I said they couldn’t. And I wasn’t nice about it. I was trying to shut him up. Move the conversation away from the topic entirely. And it worked. Whatever I said was enough to get Lucius and Bella to move the conversation along and they didn’t even bother Regulus about it. I just—I just thought that was it. I hated myself for what I said, but I didn’t … I didn’t think it even registered with Regulus. I … didn’t think.’

Without a word, James wrapped his arms around Sirius and tugged him close. Since the day he’d met Sirius, he’d wanted to protect him. From his family, from the world. That feeling had only grown stronger with every new facet of horror he learned about the Black family. Only now his desire extended beyond Sirius. Now he wanted to take both Black brothers far, far away and keep them safe from the family they’d been born into.

‘I didn’t want them to suspect me,’ Sirius mumbled into his shoulder. ‘I never meant for Regulus to get hurt. I swear.’

‘I know.’ James leaned back to catch his eye and smiled understandingly. Because he did understand. He knew what growing up in that house had done to Sirius and how scared and angry he’d been every summer. ‘But I think Regulus needs a proper apology, you know? He needs to hear what you just told me.’

‘Yeah.’ Sirius nodded fervently. ‘Yeah. Thank you, Prongs.’

James clapped him gently on the cheek. ‘Go find Moony and Wormy. I’ll find Regulus. Make sure he’s all right.’

‘Was this why they were bullying him yesterday? They’re being homophobic cunts? I mean, not that I’m surprised, but it’s so random. Regulus has always been popular, hasn’t he?’

‘He was, yeah.’

‘So what happened?’

James shrugged. ‘Who knows with those wankers? Perhaps they’re mad your parents are so high in Voldemort’s esteem and feel Regulus is getting special treatment, so they’ve made him a target for the year.’

Sirius exhaled heavily. ‘I’m a really shit brother. I should have taken him with me. I mean, I never thought he’d come. I thought he was happy. How did I miss all this?’

James wondered if Sirius was entirely unaware of the fact that his parents beat Regulus. Was it new? Was it only because Sirius had left? Sirius had told him about being beaten with a belt once but he’d always made it seem like Regulus was the favourite and never got into any trouble. But what if Regulus had simply never told him? Or never felt like he could? Aloud, he said, ‘You haven’t really been given much of a chance to be a good brother to him in that environment. But you’re a good brother to me. You have it in you, Pads. I know you do.’ James smiled as encouragingly as he could given the circumstances. ‘However much we don’t want to be tortured by them, we can’t stoop to their level. And we have to ensure that anyone who might hear isn’t worse off. If anyone in the stands today was gay, they saw all of us stand up for them. That matters, Padfoot.’

Sirius bobbed his head, seeming to take heart in this. ‘I know it meant everything to me when you told me your uncle was gay and he was at your house every Christmas. That’s when I told you about Remus.’

‘See. Strength in numbers and all that. Now go find the others. I want to make sure Regulus is okay.’

What James couldn’t say was that he was scared Regulus might hurt himself again and he wouldn’t be able to reach him in time.

Sirius thankfully gestured for him to leave. ‘Yeah. Yeah, go. Cheers, Prongs.’

It took all of James’ willpower not to break into a sprint as he walked away from Sirius. There was no sign of Regulus when he reached the castle and he couldn’t find him in any of the empty rooms he passed, nor in the library, Great Hall or owlery.

His panic had well and truly risen by the time James found Regulus in the corner of the astronomy tower almost an hour later.

‘Hi,’ he called as he approached, wiping the sweat from his upper lip and temples. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

Regulus raised his head, but his black hair fell like a dark curtain and obscured much of his expression. He was somehow paler than before, that much James could see. In a competition with snow, James had a feeling Regulus would win. It worried him deeply. He would bet gold Regulus didn’t eat or sleep enough ever.

‘You scared me.’

‘I’m not here to jump off the tower, Potter.’

‘Good. Because I’d jump after you and then where would we be?’ James took a seat on the cold stone floor beside him. ‘Sirius knows he’s been a right prick,’ he offered. ‘He wants to apologise.’

Regulus snorted. ‘For what?’

‘For …’ James searched his face. ‘Look, he should never have said what he said. It was wrong. Completely. He was also a kid. He was scared. He didn’t know it would hurt you. It’s not an excuse, but I think it helps make sense of it. And for what it’s worth, Sirius beat the tar out of a Muggle in a nightclub over the summer for harassing a guy and his boyfriend.’

‘Woo,’ grunted Regulus.

‘I’m sorry, Regulus.’

‘What are you sorry for?’

‘I’m sorry that people are being so awful to you. I’m sorry they’re treating you like shit. I’m sorry for all of it, really. It’s not pity, little fox. It’s empathy. I wish more than anything that you and Sirius had better parents. I want that for you so much it hurts my heart.’ James nudged his boot against Regulus’. ‘And if he gave anyone the wrong idea we can—’

A strangled noise ripped from between Regulus’ lips. ‘It’s not the wrong idea, Potter. The Slytherins aren’t bullying me because of a bloody rumour. I’m a Black. A rumour wouldn’t hold any water. They’re bullying me because Evan and Barty found me kissing a boy in Hogsmeade and decided to tell the entire House that the Black family heir was a twisted creep who didn’t deserve to carry the Black name, let alone their pathetic pureblood “status”.’

James had not been expecting that. Nor was he expecting the odd curl of annoyance at the idea of Regulus kissing someone.

Misinterpreting his silence, Regulus grunted, ‘You can leave now.’

James reached out and put a hand on his knee. Leaning in, he said, ‘I’m not going anywhere. I made a promise, little fox. You’re stuck with me.’

He watched Regulus bite his lower lip so hard it bled; watched the tears fill his dark, wide eyes, still bloodshot from the poison he’d swallowed the night before. He seemed so breakable, like he was made of porcelain and should come with a sign that said, ‘Handle with care’.

‘You don’t think I’m disgusting?’

The small, uncertain words broke something inside of James. Something fundamental. He knew he was naïve and privileged about so many things, but he had never understood why anyone, magic or Muggle, cared about who someone else loved or wanted. It was the silliest, cruellest thing James could fathom. But then, James had never been bullied. Not once in his entire life. Even the Slytherins didn’t seem to know how to bully him – and Snape had certainly tried. But nothing stuck to him. (Well, Lily Evans’ derision did, but that was a different matter altogether. James had been in love with her since he was eleven.) Strangers’ opinions didn’t matter in the least to him, though, and he’d never been insecure or doubted who he was or what he deserved. He knew what he wanted and he always had. He knew who he loved and he would never apologise for it. But that was easy when your parents were rich and you fell in love with someone like Lily Evans, who even the Slytherins begrudgingly acknowledged as one of the best students at the school – and by far one of the most beautiful.

Compelled by something he was still defining, James moved so that he was kneeling before Regulus and reached out. He gently raised Regulus’ chin with his forefinger. ‘There is nothing disgusting about you. There has never been. If that’s what they believe, pity the fuck out of them. I’ve never seen an unhappier bunch of cunts in my life. Their bigotry is their own. Don’t let them stain you with it. You’re a good guy, Regulus. I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before. I should have.’

The tears that had been welling in Regulus’ eyes finally fell and James brushed them away with his fingers.

‘You know,’ he continued, a plan forming in his mind. If there was one thing James could do, it was plan. It was get people on his team. Being popular had its advantages and James had long ago learned how to work that in his friends’ favour. He had seen to it that no one bothered Moony about his monthly absences (and there’d been a number of rumours at one point); he had kept the bullies away from Peter after their first year; and he had managed to wrangle Sirius out of (nearly all) his self-made problems. He could ensure Regulus stayed safe, too. But it would take more than a few punches on the Quidditch field, much as it had improved Snape’s face.

‘What if we told everywhere we’re together?’ The second he said it aloud, he was delighted with himself for thinking of it. If he was ‘out’ then it would take the focus off Regulus and the bullies would lose steam.

Regulus went still, eyes widening. ‘Pardon?’

‘Hear me out. It’s perfect. If you come to my place for hols, you won’t have to deal with your parents’ reaction to any of this, so don’t panic about that. You won’t have to deal with having fucking Lord Voldemort around for dinner because you’ll be at mine and my mum isn’t a creepy fucking git. So that’s one problem solved – you move in with me and Sirius. Sorted.’

The expression on Regulus’ pale face informed James he thought him absolutely demented. ‘They could pull me out of Hogwarts if they think I’m dating a guy, Potter. Just like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Even a pureblood one.’

‘They can’t. I checked.’

‘You checked?’

James nodded fervently. He had spent the time Regulus was in Transfiguration that morning in the library, reading up on the school’s policies. ‘If the headmaster of Hogwarts has legitimate cause to believe a student will be abused at home, they can file it with the Ministry of Magic and the student can stay. It’s been done a few times from what I saw.’

This seemed like totally new information to Regulus and James didn’t miss the hope that sprang into his dark eyes. James latched onto that hope. He would fix this. And he wanted Regulus to believe that he could. To trust him.

‘So that’s your parents sorted, yeah? As for the Slytherins, they won’t mess with you if the whole school is on our side. They’re foolhardy but not brave. Even Rosier and Crouch would think twice before attacking my boyfriend. They’ve seen what I can do when I’m mad. And you leave Snape to me. Sirius and I can handle the prat.’

‘You really do think a lot of yourself, Potter.’

‘I have enough evidence on my side to know this will work. They bully you because they think they can get away with it. But even bigots like Rosier won’t know what to do when presented with two pureblood blokes together. It’ll splinter their puny minds. And once it does, we can “break up” and they’ll find something else to focus on.’

‘And Evans? Do you want the love of your life thinking you’re with me?’

James waved off the concern. Lily’s reaction was, oddly, the one he was least concerned about. He’d sort of given up on her ever noticing him and this felt far more important. After the last twenty-four hours, James wasn’t sure he wanted to ever let Regulus out of his sight again. If he was pretending to be his boyfriend, it at least gave him an excuse to watch Regulus like a hawk.

Infuriately, Regulus shook his head. ‘I don’t want to make your life harder, James. All I do is make everyone’s life harder. I’m so bloody tired of being a burden. I can’t be one to you. Not after—not after what you did for me.’

‘You’re not asking me for anything. I’m offering. I’m asking you.’

Regulus remained silent for so long James began to fret. Then, quite suddenly, he said, ‘Fine. Whatever. But you tell Sirius the truth. I don’t want him coming after me for “dating” you. I can’t—I can’t take him hating me more than he already does.’

‘He doesn’t hate you,’ James countered. ‘But I’ll tell him. It’ll help to have the Marauders in on it, actually.’

Regulus cocked a black eyebrow, bemused. ‘Why do you call yourselves that?’

‘All gangs have a name, mate.’

‘Oh, well, when you put it that way.’

James laughed. ‘So it’s a plan, then? You and me?’

‘I think you’ll change your mind in less than forty-eight hours, but … sure.’

‘I’ll take that bet.’

‘Fine. Ten Galleons you don’t last the week. Being James Potter, Quidditch Captain and prefect, isn’t the same as being James Potter, dating the Black sheep of Slytherin House.’

James grinned. ‘You’re jokes are improving, dear boyfriend. And you leave that to me.’ James stood in a fluid motion, hauling Regulus to his feet as he did so. He kept his hands on Regulus’ waist and grinned confidently at him. ‘This is the start of a beautiful plan, my little fox. You wait and see.’

Regulus tilted his head to the side, regarding him thoughtfully. ‘Why do you care so much, James?’

A shrug. ‘I don’t know how not to. But I know I want to make up for not doing more for you. For not protecting you. So will you let me? Not just for you, but for me. Please.’

‘Well,’ said Regulus, voice softer now, ‘far be it for me to deny James Potter his sense of chivalry.’

‘Now you’re getting it.’

Perhaps he couldn’t save everyone in the war they all knew was coming, but saving his best friend’s little brother from the Death Eaters and Voldemort, from his parents and their abuse, and from the other Slytherins, felt like a good place to start.

Chapter Text

When Regulus arrived at Potions, his last class of the day, he was already steeped in dread. Despite James’ bold words in the tower, facing his fellow Slytherins on their home turf felt less appealing than stabbing a fork into his hand. A few other students were already in the dungeons when he arrived and Regulus paused in the doorway, toying with the strap of his book bag, warily checking to see who was there. Slughorn tended to call on him even when he didn’t raise his hand or offer an answer and for years he had sat up front with the other Slytherins, eager to be called upon. Regulus remembered, vaguely, how much he had enjoyed showing off in Potions. It had always been one of his best subjects. Unfortunately, Milicent, Evan and Barty were already seated near the front, still more than ready to try to impress Slughorn whenever possible. Slughorn’s name and recommendation was wildly sought after but given only to a few. Ministry jobs were made that way, but Regulus did not care about the future as he once had.

Diverting to the back of the cold room, Regulus claimed a free table and he was just taking out his book when Alba Castillo and Taylor McClaggen, two Ravenclaws, walked over and put their bags on the table near his.

‘Can we sit here?’

‘Ah, sure,’ he said uncertainly.

‘James mentioned that you’re the guy for potion-making and we wanted to see if you’d join our study group?’ said Taylor hopefully. ‘None of us are where we want to be with the readings and we’ll take all the help we can get.’

‘The NEWTs are only a year away, so we thought, you know, never too early to start,’ added Alba, with a sheepish giggle.

Regulus had an inkling that that wasn’t all James had said to them, but he nodded all the same. ‘Yeah, sure,’ he agreed. ‘You Ravenclaws have a better work ethic than the rest of my House anyhow.’

‘Exactly!’ Taylor grinned broadly at him. ‘Come on, Cillian is saving us seats.’

Regulus had known Alba, Taylor and Cillian, her twin brother, peripherally for years, but this was the first time he’d ever sat with them in class voluntarily. Thankfully, all three Ravenclaws lived up to their reputation and no gossip was shared during the hour, only questions and comments about the brewing of Slughorn’s latest assignment. Regulus had always had a knack for potions and when he advised them to divert from the instructions in three places, they followed suit.

By the end of the hour, Slughorn was beside himself with praise for their results. ‘Five points to Slytherin and Ravenclaw both!’ He clapped his hands happily, wide smile all but cutting his face in two. ‘Excellent teamwork, all!’

Cillian thumped Regulus on the back as Slughorn wandered to the next table to inspect another potion. The contact of his palm sent pain through Regulus’ entire torso, but the smile on the Ravenclaw’s face distracted him.

‘You want to join our study group? We meet twice a week and I have a feeling I’m going to be begging you for your notes.’ Cillian’s smile seemed so genuine, Regulus returned the gesture despite the reverberations of agony.

‘That sounds good.’

‘Brilliant.’

‘We should have teamed up last year,’ said Taylor, winking at Regulus as she began to pack away their supplies. ‘You’re going to be our secret weapon in the exams.’

Regulus felt his face go hot. ‘Potions are easy. I’m rubbish in History.’

‘Lucky for you, History is my favourite,’ said Alba.

Slughorn dismissed the class moments later and Regulus walked out with the Ravenclaws, pointedly ignoring the existence of Evan, Barty and Milicent, who, for once, seemed to be doing the same. It made for a nice change of pace.

They chatted the whole way to the Great Hall about their homework and arranging study plans for the next few weeks, and Regulus felt so utterly grateful to be included he almost thanked them. Only the sight of James, Sirius, Remus and Peter saved him from such embarrassment.

‘Hiya, lads,’ James called, smiling at the four sixth years. ‘How was Potions?’ He looked so pleased with himself Regulus couldn’t be exasperated. James really was living up to his pledge to make things better, even if it was via setting Regulus up on study dates.

‘You were right,’ said Alba. ‘Black here got us five points and Slughorn’s admiration. I have a feeling there’s a Slug Club invite in all our futures.’

This meant more to them, it seemed, than it did to Regulus, and he made a mental note to talk them up to Slughorn when he got the chance.

James strolled forward and hooked a finger in Regulus’ belt loop, tugging him close. ‘I told you, my boyfriend is a genius.’

Regulus choked, not remotely prepared for this declaration, but the expressions on the other students’ faces – including his brother’s – told him that James had already been spreading news of their ‘relationship’ around. Although where the Ravenclaws seemed endeared, the Marauders looked like they were doing their utmost not to piss themselves laughing at the charade.

‘Too right he is,’ agreed Cillian, clapping Regulus on the back once again and, once again, forcing Regulus to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from roaring. ‘See you in the library tomorrow?’

‘Uh, yeah.’

‘Brilliant.’

The trio of Ravenclaws dispersed, leaving Regulus alone with the Marauders.

James eyed him with unguarded worry, but Regulus shook his head slightly and he left the matter alone.

‘James told us his plan,’ said Peter helpfully. ‘We got your back.’

‘Cheers.’ Regulus genuinely meant it, too.

Sirius moved in front of him, forcing Regulus to meet his gaze. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said immediately, and to his credit he looked deeply contrite.

‘For what?’ As far as Regulus was concerned, Sirius had about ninety-five things to apologise for.

‘All of it. For what I said then. I was a right prick and it was nothing to do with you. I just – I just didn’t want them to hate me. Call me disgusting. But I was wrong and if I caused you pain or it blew back on you, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for leaving you in that shit house with our shit parents. I—it’s unforgivable, so I won’t ask for your forgiveness. But I want to fix it going forward. I want to be your brother again and I want us to be friends. Jamie said you’re staying with us next summer and I think that’s brilliant. But I’m so, so sorry about all of it. I’m the world’s biggest git and I just want you to know that I’m going to be better. I’m going to make up for all of it.’ His chest was heaving and he was out of breath when he finished; the hope in his eyes was too genuine to fake.

Did words, even well arranged ones, fix years of hurt? Not really. But Regulus wanted nothing more than his big brother back.

‘Okay,’ he croaked, emotion making his throat feel thick.

Sirius sagged. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Sirius closed the space between them then and threw his arms around Regulus, who suddenly felt five years old again, running to his brother’s room after a nightmare. Regulus returned the gesture hesitantly. No, words could not fix everything, but if Sirius was willing to try, Regulus was ready to give him anything. No one had ever meant as much to him as his brother and the gnawing ache that had made him want to end everything only a night before now felt like a passing shadow.

‘Excellent,’ said James when they broke apart. No man in history had ever looked so proud of themselves. He grabbed Regulus’ hand and, to Regulus’ enduring surprise, threaded their fingers together. ‘Come on then, boyfriend. Saving the Black brothers has left me hungry.’

‘You’re so weird, Prongs,’ said Peter fondly. ‘There has to be a better way to handle the Slytherins than this. Rumours die down.’

‘It’s not a rumour,’ said Regulus. ‘Evan and Barty saw me. I could deny it, but why bother? It’s their problem.’

‘Precisely.’ James brushed a strand of curly hair back from his glasses. ‘Besides, if we’re out, imagine how much easier it’ll be for the next couple.’

‘You can’t be “out” if you’re straight, Prongs,’ said Remus, but he seemed more amused than anything.

‘And as far as Hogwarts is concerned, from this point on my heart sings only for Regulus.’

Regulus burst out laughing at the same moment Sirius, Remus and Peter groaned in tandem.

The five boys wandered into the Great Hall in a cluster. If everyone had previously been gossiping about a Gryffindor-Slytherin friendship, it was nothing compared to the visual confirmation of a Gryffindor-Slytherin romance, let alone a queer one.

Lily Evans waved them over to the table and Regulus took the space beside her. James sat on his other side while Sirius, Remus and Peter sat across from them.

‘I just heard that the Ravenclaw sixth years are all fighting over you,’ she said smugly. ‘I’ve never seen Alba so impressed with a non-Ravenclaw. She won’t even compliment me.’

‘Humble, Evans,’ said Arthur Weasley from a few seats up. She winked at him and he winked good naturedly back.

‘It’s Regulus that’ll be getting the big head, Art. The way Alba was going on when I walked by.’

Regulus shrugged. ‘I only gave a few tips. Common sense, really.’

‘You’re too modest, Black.’

‘She’s right,’ said James, leaning in. ‘You should brag more. It’s a known ailment for members of the Black Family.’

Regulus cracked a grin. Only James could make him laugh about his family after everything.

And then, because the day wasn’t strange enough, James kissed his cheek before turning his attention to the food in front of him.

Sirius and Peter laughed into their hands, both seemingly working over time not to make immature comments or reveal anything to the surrounding students. Remus, in contrast, watched the scene with a thoughtful expression that was hard to decipher. Lily squealed, loudly, entirely unbothered it seemed by James ‘moving on’. Regulus hadn’t ever seen her return James’ affections, but he imagined it was painful to have the one you liked not return the feeling at all. But James showed no sign of wanting to assure Lily that it was only a ruse, and Regulus swallowed his curiosity.

The rest of the meal proved largely uneventful and Regulus managed to eat this time. He had not been able to stomach a full meal in almost a week and even half a plate left him feeling stuffed, but it was a good sign he knew. Perhaps things were looking up.

After everyone had finished, Regulus made for the library to make a dent in his Transfiguration reading. The four Marauders, Lily, Mary, Marlene and Arthur all came along, spreading out across a table in the far back by the fireplace.

Twenty minutes into his reading, Regulus could no longer pretend the pair sitting next to him were doing anything remotely studious. Upon his pointing this out, James said, ‘Prank first, assignments later. It’s the first week. Loads of time.’

‘I think your fellow prefects might judge you for that,’ said Peter.

‘We do,’ said Regulus and Remus in unison.

‘Nonsense,’ said James, waving off their exasperated expressions. ‘A man must defend his boyfriend and that requires pranking.’

‘Is that in the code as well?’ asked Regulus, barely smothering a smirk.

‘Indeed, little fox.’

Sirius snorted. ‘What’s with the little fox thing?’

‘He didn’t want to be called “snakey poo”.’

‘That is not what you called me,’ said Regulus, horrified by the mere suggestion. ‘And I want it on the record that James’ nicknames are entirely his own.’

‘Be grateful you’re not Wormtail,’ said Peter.

‘Yeah, I was going to ask about that.’

‘It’s cos he’s squirmy,’ said Sirius, reaching out and ruffling Peter’s hair.

Regulus didn’t believe him for a second.

‘James is collecting a zoo of friends,’ said Arthur from the other side of the table. ‘What does that make me, then?’

‘Weasel,’ said Sirius and the entire table burst into laughter.

Arthur tossed a paper ball at his head, which Sirius caught mid-air.

‘We’re getting nothing done with you lot around,’ said Mary, closing her book with a sigh.

‘Sorry, darling,’ said Sirius. ‘We’ll be quieter.’

‘What is your plan?’ Regulus leaned in, curious despite the flutter of anxiety in his stomach.

‘It’s a work in progress,’ said Sirius. ‘But we were thinking of a twist on a compulsion charm.’

‘To do what?’

‘Well if we mix it with, say, a spell to loosen their lips, it won’t be you with your secrets exposed – it’ll be all of Slytherin House.’

‘Leave the first and second years out of it,’ said Lily from across the table. ‘I mean it, Potter.’

‘Fair,’ said James, bowing his head. ‘No hexing the youths.’

‘Leave Sven Nott out of it, too,’ said Remus, eyes fixed on the book in front of him and not even raising his head.

‘Sven? Why?’ Sirius glanced at James and Peter, who both shrugged.

‘Because I don’t feel like having my name dragged through the mud as well.’

Sirius’ black eyes narrowed. ‘What does Sven have on you? We can—’

‘He doesn’t have anything on me. But I can’t imagine he’ll face better treatment than Regulus if the others learn that he and I once …’ Remus made a trailing off gesture with his fingers.

Regulus’ eyebrows shot up.

Sirius leaned in, face paler than normal. ‘You snogged Sven?’

‘I did.’

‘When was this?’

‘It was the end of fifth year.’

Sirius sat back, the meaning of Remus’ words hitting him in a way Regulus couldn’t make sense of. But from the looks on their faces, James and Peter knew. Some sort of old argument, he guessed.

‘Then perhaps Regulus should pretend to date Remus,’ said Peter, nudging Remus affectionately.

‘No,’ said Sirius and James in unison.

‘I’m not forming a homosexual collective, Pettigrew,’ said Regulus dryly.

Remus put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

‘We’re getting Regulus out of their crosshairs, not throwing Remus to the wolves,’ said James.

Sirius, Remus and Peter all choked at this, although Regulus wasn’t sure why.

‘I swear, Pete, if you tell me you’ve been secretly shagging Snivellus, I’ll lose it,’ said Sirius, tossing a sweet wrapper he’d just pulled out of his pocket at Peter’s hair.

Peter grinned wickedly. ‘Now that you—’

‘Don’t,’ moaned Sirius. ‘Don’t even go there. I will pay you not to go there.’

James and Peter both buried their laughter in their hands.

Another hour of studying – if you were Regulus, Remus, Lily, Mary and Marlene; gossiping – if you were Peter and Arthur; and plotting – if you were James and Sirius – passed before the group began to splinter off. Lily and the other girls went off first, then Arthur. Ten minutes after that, Remus announced he was exhausted and packed up his things, leaving with Peter minutes later. Any semblance of productivity vanished in their wake and an odd tension unfurled betwixt Regulus, Sirius and James.

‘Did you know?’ Sirius was looking at James, a strange expression on his face.

‘No, he wasn’t talking to me, then, either.’

This did not seem to make Sirius feel remotely better.

‘I really know how to fuck up everything.’ Sirius stood. He glanced at Regulus. ‘You good, mate?’

‘I’m fine.’

Sirius squeezed his shoulder, nodded to James, and left without another word.

‘I’m missing something,’ said Regulus.

‘It’s a long story,’ said James quietly. ‘No doubt Sirius is beating himself up over you and Moony right now.’

Regulus had a feeling Remus deserved a bigger apology than he did, although he still wasn’t sure what it was he was missing.

‘You can head off,’ he said. ‘If you want to check on them.’

‘That’s their business. I’m here with you.’

‘You don’t—’

‘Regulus, you almost died yesterday. You won’t let me tell anyone. My concern right now isn’t Sirius and Remus and their unresolved issues. He knows what he did and what he needs to do. My concern right now is you.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Regulus rubbed the side of his jaw, shame mounting. ‘You shouldn’t have had to find me like that.’

‘That’s what you’re apologising for?’ James looked ready to throttle him. ‘I’m not inconvenienced, you git. You scared the shit out of me. I never want to let you out of my sight again. I could barely fucking breathe today when you were in lessons.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

James rolled his eyes and moved closer to Regulus, close enough that his breath was hot on Regulus’ cheek. ‘I don’t want or need an apology, little fox. I need to take care of you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’ll lose it if I don’t. So please, for my sanity, just let me.’

So Regulus let him. He let James take his book bag when they finally left the library and he let James put a hand protectively on the base of his back, a warm, steady reminder that he wasn’t alone and no one was going to sneak up on him. James was careful not to apply pressure that might twinge the wounds on his back, which Regulus took grateful note of.

They arrived at the Room of Requirement minutes later, but this time when the door opened, it showed an updated version of James’ bedroom, with posters Regulus had not yet seen and photographs on the shelves and walls that he felt oddly compelled to browse.

James tossed their bags and his robes on the nearest chair before wandering over to the bookshelf and plucking a book from the top row. ‘Do you read any Muggle authors?’

‘I can’t bring any into the house, but I did like Tolkien. I found a copy in Hogsmeade last year.’

James flopped onto the bed. ‘C’mere, boyfriend.’

Regulus joined him, but sat at the end of the bed, legs crossed.

James opened the book, cleared his throat, laughed, and then began to read aloud.

No one had ever read to Regulus before. His mother had certainly been no font of warmth and care. Kreacher had charmed some of his children’s books to read themselves aloud, an act that had deeply comforted Regulus as a boy. But this was different. In their small, hidden away corner of the castle, in a room that appeared only to those in need, Regulus felt safe.

Chapter Text

Regulus spent the rest of the week sleeping in the Room of Requirement and eating meals at the Gryffindor table with the Marauders – which was missed by no one in the other Houses and ignited a flurry of discourse as the entire school latched onto the first big piece of gossip of the year. But it wasn’t the malicious gossip he’d been subjected to in Slytherin House the previous term and that he still experienced from his former friends. This gossip was mostly curious, impressed, or downright baffled. And he could handle baffled. His classes hadn’t been terrible since the first day, either. James had been largely correct – popularity proximity had its advantages. That, or the Slytherins were biding their time, which Regulus refused to discount and which made him somewhat wary every time he walked into a classroom alone.

Despite his anxiety that more retaliation was coming, Regulus liked that his brother seemed to have decided that they were the best of friends once more and was acting as if the past few years hadn’t happened. Regulus was happy to join in the denial. Pretending to be James’ boyfriend was also oddly nice. Not because of his reputation, but because Regulus had never had a boyfriend. No one had ever wanted to hold his hand or touch him in public before. No one had ever complimented him like they were in love. Even if it was an act, Regulus found himself actively enjoying the façade. He tried to remind himself that James was in love with Lily, but more than once Regulus found himself wondering what if he wasn’t.

Come Friday morning, his spirits were almost high. The week of applying medication to his torso and drinking healing potions had also helped, and the welts and gashes no longer ached or bled. The bruises had almost faded, too.

He stepped out of the Room of Requirement a little after seven to see the Marauders waiting for him, all stifling yawns. They were a rather rugged crew: Sirius, with his black hair in a tangled disarray, tattoos peeking out from beneath the ends of his sleeves; James, with his rumpled shirt and sleepy-eyed look made only the more prominent because of his glasses; Peter, who somehow had a hole in every single item of clothing he owned, no matter how new; and Remus, whose robes were as frayed as he was most days. To Regulus, they looked more like pirates roleplaying at being students than anything else, a remark that made them grin when he voiced it aloud.

‘Wizard pirates – I love it!’ Sirius clapped his hands together. ‘Should we have a flying ship?’

‘Oh, fuck yes,’ said James.

Remus caught Regulus’ eye and huffed an exasperated laugh. Regulus smirked.

‘Hogsmeade tomorrow?’ said Sirius as they set off towards the Great Hall. ‘We’re thinking of going early since we actually managed to finish our essays.’

‘That was my requirement,’ said Remus.

‘Too right you are, Moony. You’re going to be the only reason I graduate.’ Sirius slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

Regulus thought a moment, then shook his head. ‘The first weekend isn’t for two weeks.’

‘We don’t ask permission,’ said Peter, leaning in and winking at him. ‘You in or what?’

‘Yeah, cool. I’m in.’

‘Good,’ said James. His black hair was mussed every which way, a clear sign he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times already that morning, and his glasses needed a cleaning, but the dopey-sleepy expression vanished when his gaze locked with Regulus’. Concern darkened his hazel eyes. ‘Wait, don’t you have your first Quidditch practice of the season today?’

‘After breakfast, yeah. Ancient Runes isn’t until midday.’

‘You’re taking Ancient Runes?’ Peter cut in. ‘How’s that?’

Sirius rolled his eyes. ‘Really, Wormtail?’

‘What?’

‘It’s Ancient Runes, how do you think it is?’

‘I don’t know, Pads, that’s why I’m asking.’

‘It’s boring.’

‘It’s not, actually,’ said Regulus. ‘It’s—’

‘Boring.’

‘I am going to turn your robes and eyebrows bright orange if you don’t shut up, my dear brother.’

Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

The staircase they were on abruptly moved and everyone grabbed the nearest railing as it redirected them to the other side of the building.

‘Oh, good, I was hoping to walk an extra ten minutes.’ Peter scowled at the staircase. ‘Cheers for that.’

Sirius gasped with fake horror. ‘Don’t mock the staircases, Pete! He doesn’t mean it,’ he added, patting the railing. ‘Ignore him.’

‘You’re a lunatic.’

‘Let’s just go,’ said Remus, ushering them on. ‘Before it moves again.’

They hurried off the staircase, laughing at the oddities of living in a magical castle.

Breakfast was well underway when they arrived in the Great Hall ten minutes later, and the clatter and clang of cutlery echoed around the packed chamber, mixing with the low rumble of student voices and creating an oddly soothing cacophony of sound. The heady smells of the food - different kinds of eggs, beans, potatoes, pastries, fruit, and freshly baked bread - all wafted up from the tables and up their noses as they walked through the rows and for once Regulus’ stomach rumbled. It was nice to actually be looking forward to a proper meal, having mostly been nibbling at toast or biscuits all week, his desire to eat roadblocked by stress and racing thoughts. Hunger was a reassuring sign.

He followed Sirius to the Gryffindor table and sat down, immediately pouring himself a cup of coffee.

James took the empty spot beside him while Remus and Peter sat across from them.

‘We’ll walk you,’ said James as Regulus passed him a mug of coffee with a wink. ‘To the pitch.’

‘You can’t,’ said Regulus, although he suddenly wished James could. He wasn’t exactly dreading Quidditch, but he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Evan’s insults for two hours, either. ‘No players from opposing teams are allowed to watch without the permission of the team captain and Creel will never give it.’

Yet while Tadhg Creel was a strict coach, Regulus liked him more than the last Slytherin captain. Creel was at least more focused on the game than House politics and gossip. When Evan and Barty told everyone the year before that they had found Regulus kissing a boy in Hogsmeade and told Tadhg to kick him off the team, Tadhg had told them to fuck off. It meant enough to Regulus that he felt a firm loyalty to the captain and he had refused to quit the team no matter how much Evan harassed him for the rest of term. And it was for Tadhg that he was returning. He loved Quidditch, but he would have quit if the captain was anyone else. He refused - perhaps to his detriment at times - to let down anyone who bothered to stand up for him. It was, he felt, the least he could do.

‘You sure you have to go?’ James seemed to have forgotten the toast in his hand as he watched Regulus for an answer.

‘I have to face them at some point, might as well get it over with.’

‘I’ll go,’ said Remus from the other side of the table. ‘If you want? I have a free hour and I’m not on any Quidditch teams. So it won’t be breaking any rules’

‘There,’ said Peter around a mouthful of eggs. ‘Problem solved.’

James leaned in closer to Regulus. ‘You sure you’ll be all right?’ he whispered.

‘The most they can do is yell insults at me, Potter. I’ll be fine. Seekers are solo players. I don’t even need to fly near them, really. And I’m not afraid of words.’

‘You’ll tell me if anything happens?’

‘If I don’t, I’m sure Lupin will.’

‘Reg—’

‘Yes, I’ll tell you. I promise, Potter.’

With a tight smile, James let the matter drop.

The sudden rustling of thousands of feathers signalled the arrival of the post and Regulus glanced up automatically.

‘Oh, fuck,’ said Sirius.

Regulus followed his gaze; his stomach dropped. Their family’s large black owl, Morgana, was flying towards them. She deposited a black envelope in front of Regulus without slowing down and disappeared through the rafts above them. Morgana had never cared for either brother and they had the scars on their hands as evidence.

‘That’s Mum’s writing.’ Sirius sounded as ill as Regulus felt.

If there was such a thing as being seasick on land, that was what Regulus was currently experiencing. He reached out and picked it up, every second bringing him closer to vomiting. He had expected to hear from his mother sooner rather than later, so it wasn’t like he was surprised. Still, his hands shook slightly as he slid his finger under the wax seal and unfolded the expensive parchment.

Regulus,

Your father and I have heard the most appalling rumour from Mikhail Rosier. It seems someone at Hogwarts is spreading disgusting lies that you’ve fallen in with Mudbloods and deviants just like your brother. I am certain this is not true for I need not remind you the consequences of such actions. Do not follow in your brother’s footsteps – there is no going back from that.

I expect an explanation for this nonsense and assurances that there is no truth to them. The Dark Lord believes in you, Regulus, and I have assured him of your loyalty to our cause. Do not make a liar out of me.

If you do not reply within a day, your father and I will come to Hogwarts to deal with you directly. That we allowed you to attend is a privilege, but it is not a right. If I must home-school you myself, trust that I will.

Your mother

Regulus rubbed his mouth roughly, trying to fight down the panic attack. He folded the note several times, bile burning the back of his throat. There would no safe place if his parents and the Dark Lord deemed him a traitor or deserter, but he also knew that he couldn’t go back. Couldn’t face them after everything that had happened that summer. After what his mother had done to him. What she still wanted him to do.

‘What did it say?’ demanded Sirius.

‘Nothing,’ he muttered, rising to his feet.

‘Regu—’

‘It’s fine, Sirius. I’m handling it.’ Regulus walked directly to the teachers’ table and stilled a few steps away from the headmaster. ‘Sir, may I have a word? In private?’

Dumbledore set down his fork immediately and beckoned for Regulus to follow him away from the table. Ignoring the curious looks from the other professors, Regulus followed.

Dumbledore brought him to a side chamber and the door closed softly behind them. The sounds of the Great Hall faded abruptly.

‘What seems to be the matter, Mr Black?’

Regulus took a deep breath, but fear pushed him on. ‘James Potter told me if a student’s parents try to remove them from the school and the student doesn’t want to leave, the school can intervene.’

‘That is true.’ Dumbledore nodded to the letter in his fist. ‘Is that what that says?’

Regulus held it out. ‘I don’t know what to do. But I know if I go back there …’ He trailed off and let Dumbledore read his mother’s words.

The headmaster’s lips pressed into a thin line as he read. When he raised his head, there was a very serious expression on his wise face. ‘You wish to stay?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Are you afraid of going home?’

Regulus felt like his throat was going to close, but managed to give a jerky nod. ‘It wasn’t so bad before. Things … changed. It’s … it’s bad now.’

‘All right.’ Dumbledore put the letter in his robes’ pocket. ‘I will take care of this, Mr Black. Thank you for trusting me.’

‘Lord Voldemort won’t forget that I walked away from him.’

‘No,’ agreed Dumbledore. ‘But it’s a very courageous thing you’re doing, Mr Black. I will do my utmost to ensure that you never cross Voldemort’s path. And so long as you are safe within these walls, I can guarantee it. If your parents request to speak with you, would you like to? Or would you like me to act as intermediary?’

‘If I see them, I’ll go with them,’ he said truthfully. ‘I—they’re my parents, sir. I hate so many things about them, but they’re my parents. Here, in Hogwarts, with Sirius to talk to, it’s easier to push back against them. To separate the things they’re saying from who they’re supposed to be to me. It’s easier to think when I’m away from them. I won’t—if I see them …’

Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I understand. Leave this with me. You have your classes to focus on and I believe that is more than enough for a young man.’

‘Thank you, sir. Sorry.’

‘Do not ever apologise for asking for help, Mr Black. I wish you felt you could ask sooner.’

James and Sirius were both lingering by the door of the chamber when Regulus and Dumbledore stepped back into the Great Hall moments later. Dumbledore smiled and greeted them in turn, and then walked back to his seat and resumed his breakfast.

‘What is it?’ hissed Sirius, moving close to Regulus. ‘What’d Mum say?’

‘Are you all right?’ asked James.

Regulus forced himself to take a deep breath. ‘They … they heard about us, Potter, and threatened to have me taken out of school. Dumbledore’s going to handle it. Says it’ll be fine.’

‘I fucking love that man,’ said Sirius, and Regulus didn’t miss the thick layer of emotion in his brother’s voice. It was nice to hear.

James moved closer and put an arm around him. ‘Regretting being my fake boyfriend?’

‘Not as long as your invitation still stands. If I do this, I can’t go home.’

‘You’re not,’ said James.

‘Ever,’ said Sirius. ‘Fuck them, Reg. You’re better with us.’

Regulus nodded several times, trying desperately to believe it.

James rubbed his arm bracingly. ‘It’s good you told him. No one fucks with Dumbledore.’

Regulus tried to cling to those words, but he kept thinking back to the dinner with Lord Voldemort and the beating that followed.

He did not eat breakfast.

By the time he was making his way down the stairs with Remus, he felt close to passing out, but not from lack of food. Rebellion was Sirius’ forte, not his. And despite the faith he had in Dumbledore’s abilities, part of him still feared that his parents were going to pop up at any moment and drag him away.

‘Dumbledore will fix it,’ Remus told him as they walked out of the castle and made their way across the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch.

‘You think so?’

‘I trust Dumbledore more than my own parents.’

Regulus trusted expired pumpkin juice more than his own parents, so this did little to alleviate his concerns.

‘Listen.’ Remus stopped abruptly and turned to him. For a bloke who always seemed exhausted to the point of worrisome, the fierceness in his expression was striking and impossible to turn away from. ‘I know Jamie is doing his utmost – and God love him for going full throttle on protecting you – but if you want to vent to someone who’s been through it, you can talk to me. It will stay with me. The day I realised I liked boys as much as girls, and couldn’t tell anyone, remains one of the most truly shit days of my life. And I’ve had some days that would surprise you, trust me. But you’re not alone, Regulus. Not against your parents, not against the pricks in your House, and not against Voldemort. Whatever happens, you’re not alone.’

Regulus gazed at him, slightly awed. ‘Cheers, Lupin.’

‘Any time, Black.’ Remus winked at him. ‘Come on. The sooner this is over, the sooner I get to stop watching Quidditch.’

‘You don’t like Quidditch?’

‘It’s a painful truth for Sirius and James, I assure you. I will never hear the end of it.’

Regulus chuckled.

They carried on down the hill towards the pitch, a cold breeze biting their ears and sending their hair flying into their faces.

‘Was that boy in Hogsmeade your boyfriend?’ asked Remus.

Regulus shook his head. ‘Nah, just a boy who was hot – mixed with too many pints.’

‘I know the feeling.’

They shared grins at this.

The pair parted ways when they reached the field and while Remus headed to the stands to sit down, Regulus went to the dressing rooms to change and retrieve his broomstick.

Unfortunately, the team were already inside.

‘Gay boys have to change elsewhere,’ said Evan upon catching sight of him.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. ‘And where do the piles of shit change? For your own references.’

Fury morphing his pale features, Evan started towards him but was blocked by Tadhg Creel, the team captain.

‘Leave it for after Quidditch, Rosier. We’re a team. I don’t care what your personal issues are. Handle it on your own time. I have a match to prepare for.’

‘We can find better,’ said one of the beaters, Vincent Hawthorn. ‘No one wants him on the team.’

‘I want him on the team. So you’re all going to have to get over it. He’s the best Seeker in the entire school. Regulus has earned his place and if you can’t be big boys about it, you’re off the team.’

Regulus wasn’t sure this helped, exactly, but no one said another word to him as he changed his school robes for his Quidditch set. What did help was mounting his broom the second he was outside and flying as high as he could, the wind whipping his face and neck.

Despite being the first training session of the term, Tadhg spent much of it shouting orders and criticisms at everyone on the team – a decidedly different coaching method from James Potter – but he largely left Regulus alone other than a few suggestions when Regulus passed into his line of sight. It was one of the perks of being a Seeker. Even when Regulus had been amongst the most popular players on the team, Tadhg hadn’t spared him more words than he had to.

After almost ninety minutes of glaring around the field, swooping in and out of the stands, and generally just enjoying the weightless feeling of flying, Regulus finally spotted the snitch.

He shot towards it—

Pain exploded through his entire body.

Bone splitting, mind wiping, heart stopping agony.

The curse locked his body and he slipped off the side of the broom without registering it.

He hit the ground full force – which was somehow less painful than the curse – and was still screaming, the feeling of a thousand knives carving him open from the inside making it impossible to think, to move, to do anything but pray for it to stop, when everything went white.

A lifetime of transforming into a werewolf once a month had given Remus a unique perspective on pain and agony. Still, seeing Regulus Black fall through the air, gripping his skull and roaring in anguish, was quite possibly one of the worst things he’d ever seen.

Being a werewolf had also made his reflexes faster than anyone he knew, and he was already running before Regulus crashed into the dirt. He reached Regulus just as the team captain did and he drew his wand on reflex.

‘Back off.’

The captain wisely did as he was told.

Remus dropped down beside Regulus, who wasn’t moving. His body still shook, though, and his eyes rolled frantically beneath their lids. It was some kind of curse.

‘Find out which one of your team members did this before I hex the lot of you,’ he snarled, not looking up. He then lifted Regulus without effort and finally met Tadhg’s gaze. The captain was pale with shock and horror.

‘Lupin—’

‘Get your fucking players under control, Creel,’ he seethed.

No one – not even Evan Rosier – said a word as Remus carried Regulus off the pitch and back up to the castle. One of the only upsides to being a werewolf was inhuman upper body strength and he didn’t even have to pause for breath or to adjust his grip. He could also smell blood, and from more places than the cut on the back of Regulus’ head where he’d hit the ground. It made Remus want to growl, which was far more wolfish a feeling than he was comfortable with.

Whether he’d seen the incident or been alerted to it by another, Professor Slughorn appeared in front of him, a dismayed look on his normally amiable features.

‘Oh, my dear boy! What happened?’

‘Someone on the Slytherin team hexed him mid-air at practice. I don’t know who.’

Slughorn bobbed his head. ‘I will see to it. Do you need any help getting him to the hospital wing?’

‘I’ve got him. Please just find out who did this.’

‘Of course, Mr Lupin. Of course.’ With another worried glance at Regulus, Slughorn hurried off towards the Quidditch pitch.

To his utter relief, Remus ran into no one but Sir Nicholas the ghost on his way to the hospital wing. And upon learning what had happened, the ghost floated along beside them, lamenting school bullying and reminiscing about the old days when they would shove bullies into the lake and let the mermaids deal with them.

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey ushered Remus to an empty bed and he set Regulus down carefully. The colour fled her face as he recounted what happened, but she remained poised and far less panic-stricken than he felt.

‘Hexes at Quidditch practice! Honestly,’ she seethed. ‘Right. Well, you’ve done wonderfully, Mr Lupin. Mr Black is lucky to have a friend like you.’

‘I don’t think he currently feels remotely lucky.’

‘No,’ she agreed. ‘Have a seat, Mr Lupin. It’s going to be all right.’

Remus dropped into the chair beside the bed while Pomfrey administered a series of spells. She hmm’d to herself several times and assured Remus that Regulus wasn’t going to suffer permanent physical damage, but it still took almost forty minutes for him to open his eyes.

Remus sat forward. ‘Hiya, mate. You okay?’

The look of dismayed horror that Regulus gave him as awareness sank in broke Remus’ heart more than he could have imagined.

‘Can you give me a minute?’ whispered Regulus, tears filling his dark eyes.

‘Sure.’ Remus stood immediately. ‘I’ll, ah—I’ll be in the corridor.’

Regulus rolled away from him. He made no noise, but his whole body began to shake as he sobbed into his hands.

Feeling helpless and horrible, Remus left Regulus to have his breakdown in private and stepped into the cold corridor. Sliding to the ground, he pulled his knees into his chest and stared unseeingly at the opposite wall. It was as if the war that had infiltrated his home when he was a child and had taken his innocence - his future - from him with teeth and claws, and had haunted the columns of the newspaper eulogies ever since, had breached the walls of the castle that had always seemed so safe from it all. Lord Voldemort as an abstract villain somewhere far away from Hogwarts was far different from Regulus meeting him at home for dinner, and Unforgiveable Curses being used on students at Quidditch practice. Because Remus knew. He had seen his father use the curse against werewolves after Fenrir Greyback attacked him. There was a way a person screamed while under the Cruciatus curse that was incomparable to anything else. A maddening, brutal, all consuming pain that lasted long after the curse had been cast and elicited the screams of a body being attacked all over from the inside.

And if not even Hogwarts was safe, where did that leave them, then?

James was busy taking down notes in Defence Against the Dark Arts class when Professor Dumbledore walked in. Everyone glanced up at their headmaster and a tense, curious silence took hold as the scratching of quills and turning of pages paused en masse.

‘Might I borrow Misters Black and Potter for the rest of class, Walter?’ he asked Professor Clatterhorn.

‘Of course! Boys, homework is chapter three.’

James and Sirius exchanged glances with Peter before hastily throwing their books, quills and notes into their bags and hurrying after Professor Dumbledore.

‘Is it Regulus?’ he and Sirius asked in tandem the instant the door was closed.

‘First,’ said Dumbledore, leading the way, ‘let me assure you that your brother is going to make a full recovery—’

As if they shared one mind, James and Sirius both bolted towards the hospital wing before Dumbledore could even finish his sentence.

They found Remus on the ground outside the door, eyes wide and blood on his robes.

Sirius reached him first, skidding to a halt and almost tripping head over feet as he dropped down beside Remus. ‘Moony, what happened?’

‘Someone hexed him.’

‘What? Who?’

James was pushing the door open before Remus could elaborate.

The school’s nurse, Madam Pomfrey, was on the other side of the chamber; she looked up and nodded to one of the beds. It was the only one occupied. And the thin figure on the bed was shaking, badly, his hands gripping his hair like he wanted to rip all the strands out.

‘Regulus?’

No reply.

A burning rage welled inside James as he crossed the room in three strides and crouched down beside the bed. ‘Hiya,’ he murmured.

Regulus didn’t meet his eyes. ‘Twice in a month. Must be an Unforgiveable record.’

‘What—’

‘The Cruciatus curse.’

James suddenly felt very weak and his fist went to his mouth. Of all the hexes to be used in a school.

He heard the door open behind him but didn’t turn around. He could not even move. A moment later Sirius and Remus were hovering uncertainly on the other side of the bed.

‘Can we do anything?’ James wanted to go out and commit murder, so having orders to do something else would greatly help.

‘Please go away.’

‘Ah, mate. Come on, now.’ Sirius joined James in kneeling beside the bed. He reached out and took his brother’s hand. ‘Want us to figure out who did it?’

‘I want you to make them scream.’ Regulus sounded more broken than venomous, but the request left James cold. Not with fear, but with a dark kind of empathy. He, too, wanted to make them scream, and it wasn’t a feeling he wanted any of them to harbour. It wasn’t a feeling anyone should have, if he was being honest. But oh, he wanted to make them pay.

‘We can do that.’ Sirius gripped his brother’s hand in solidarity. ‘Anything else, mon frère?’

‘Get me very drunk tomorrow.’

‘We can do that.’ Sirius pressed his lips to the back of Regulus’ hand. ‘You want to stay here or you want us to kidnap you?’

Regulus rolled a dark eye at him and was silent for a moment. Then, ‘Yeah, give me a minute.’

Sirius winked at him proudly. ‘We’ll be outside.’ He then beckoned to James and Remus to leave. In turn, James gestured that he’d follow and remained by Regulus’ bed side. Only when the door had closed did he speak.

‘Your mum used an Unforgiveable on you?’

‘Two of the three. More than once.’

James wanted to kill her. He imagined doing it, too.

‘Can you …’ Regulus abruptly held out his hand and James helped him sit up. ‘Cheers.’ A sharp, twisted noise escaped him. ‘Helping me really is becoming a full time job for you. I think you need a pay rise.’

‘At least the benefits are good.’ James didn’t have to force his smile despite everything. ‘It’s not every day I get to exercise my knight in shining armour talents. You’re keeping me sharp, little fox.’

‘Not sick of me yet, then?’

‘Not even a smidge.’ James ruffled his hair affectionately. ‘Ready?’

‘I need a change of clothes.’ Regulus was still wearing his Quidditch robes, which had muck and blood on them from his fall.

‘I can get you some?’ Even as he said it, James took out his wand and waved it at Regulus’ clothes. ‘Scourgify,’ he murmured, vanishing the grime.

‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’

Regulus stood slowly, wincing all the while, but he seemed determined, which made James strangely proud. In the short time that they’d been friends, maintaining a public charade of a relationship, James had grown to feel fiercely protective over Regulus. He was Sirius’ brother, which made him feel like James’ responsibility just by the code of brotherhood, but more than that, Regulus felt like his responsibility. James hadn’t yet examined why.

‘Mr Black,’ called Pomfrey, stepping out of her office. She had a bottle in hand. ‘No flying for a week, Mr Black. And come back tomorrow morning for a check up. Do not make me track you down – if I have to, you’re going to be confined to hospital bed for a week. Am I understood?’

‘Yes, Madam Pomfrey.’

‘Drink all that bottle before bed.’

‘I will.’

Her gaze went to James pointedly.

‘I’ll ensure it,’ he swore.

‘Good boys. Any dizziness, I want you back here,’ she told Regulus sternly. ‘Head injuries are no joke. Mr Potter, I trust that you’ll keep an eye on him and avoid pranks of any sort until he is well?’

‘I swear on my life.’

James tucked the bottle of medicine into his robes before taking Regulus’ hand. Regulus gripped tightly, as if taking strength from James through touch alone, and James was more than happy to attempt such a transfer.

To his surprise, Sirius and Remus weren’t the only ones in the hall when they stepped out. Peter had arrived - and judging by his breathing, he had run from class - along with several members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as well as Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon.

‘We heard what happened,’ said Frank Longbottom. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine,’ said Regulus, visibly taken aback. ‘They’ll have to do better than that.’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Marlene nodded approvingly. ‘Want to come chill with us? We thought we’d skive off the rest of the afternoon.’

James glanced at Lily. ‘Oh?’

‘This is more important,’ she retorted.

‘I love you, Evans,’ said James, laughing. ‘Lead the way.’ Yet he waited until the others had started off before glancing at Regulus. ‘Are you sure you're all right? We can go to the Room of Requirement and chill out?’

‘Honestly, I need the distraction.’

‘Okay.’ James tugged him on, glad, too, of the distraction. Try as he might, the urge to go beat the shit out of every Slytherin he could find was only growing with every second that passed and he knew deep down that he was not in a rational mood - not that he had ever liked the bulk of Slytherin House, but this fury felt new and unusual. Personalised just for his displeasure. This fury was not just a dislike of their general beliefs and mentalities, but a toxic gathering of rage at the fact that someone he cared about had now been directly hurt by them. A distraction might be the only thing keeping him from getting himself expelled.

The group of students made their way down to, of all places, Hagrid’s hut. Regulus didn’t know much about Hagrid personally, but he’d always admired the man’s love for other creatures. It was something he found most – Wizard and Muggle alike – to be deeply lacking.

Hagrid waved heartily to them when the group reached the pumpkin patch.

‘Hallo, everyone!’ he called.

‘Hiya, Hagrid,’ greeted Lily. ‘Fancy a picnic or are you busy?’

‘I got a few hours!’ Hagrid gestured for them to sit in the patch. ‘Lemme see what I’ve got to eat!’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Alice Skeeter, Frank’s girlfriend who was the only other non-Gryffindor there. ‘We brought food.’

On cue, Frank and Arthur both held up large wicker boxes.

‘Oh, wonderful!’ Hagrid beamed at the lot of them. ‘Is this an occasion? Someone’s birthday?’

‘We’re avoiding the castle so that we don’t all commit mass murder,’ said Sirius, and his expression was furious enough that Hagrid didn’t chuckle.

‘What happened?’

‘I was hexed during Quidditch practice,’ said Regulus wearily, drawing everyone’s attention.

Hagrid again gestured for them all to sit and Lily produced a blanket with a wave of her wand. Unfortunately, Regulus’ entire body hurt and he had trouble even bending. James, who had yet to let go of him, helped him down and then sat slightly behind him.

‘Lean against me,’ he said, angling himself so that Regulus could lean against his side. ‘What do you want to drink?’

‘I don’t mind.’

James accio’d two bottles from Arthur’s picnic basket over and handed one to Regulus. ‘Anything else?’

‘Not hungry.’

‘All right. Let me know.’ James offered a smile and turned back to the others. When Regulus followed his gaze, he saw Hagrid watching him with open concern.

‘Pomfrey fix you up all right?’ the gamekeeper asked.

‘No lasting damage,’ said Regulus, although he wasn’t sure that was totally true. He felt frayed and fragile in a way that was new. Worse. He knew why people lost their minds from the Cruciatus curse. He didn’t feel far from it himself.

‘What’d they curse ya with?’

‘The Cruciatus curse.’

This, it was clear, was news to most of the group. Regulus realised belatedly that James was the only one he’d told. It took him a moment to realise why, and another moment to realise that he wasn’t exactly thinking straight.

‘That’s—that’s illegal,’ said Marlene, horrified.

‘Are you sure?’ asked Lily.

‘Not possible,’ said Arthur.

‘Very possible,’ said Regulus flatly. ‘And very sure.’

‘How?’ This came from Sirius.

Regulus looked over at him. ‘It’s the favoured curse of the Death Eaters, brother. How do you think?’ It wasn’t totally a lie. His parents were Death Eaters. But he couldn’t form the words to convey that it hadn’t been just any Death Eater.

‘Where would a student learn something like that?’ asked Alice, pale with horror. ‘Are they teaching it in Slytherin House or something?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me,’ said Peter darkly.

Regulus shook his head. ‘They aren’t that brave. Or that passionate. You have to have strength and hatred to cast it. You have to mean it. I would bet money it wasn’t Evan, Barty or Severus. They might be bigots, but they don’t have the gumption for pain.’

‘Did you really meet him?’ Frank was looking at Regulus thoughtfully. ‘Voldemort.’

‘What’s he like?’ asked Peter.

‘He …’ Regulus shrugged. ‘He doesn’t seem totally real. It’s hard to explain.’

‘They say that’s because he’s the most powerful wizard in history,’ said Mary, and Marlene bobbed her head and added, ‘I’ve heard that, too.’

‘Perhaps. He’s … It’s hard to look at him. Physically hard. Having him look at you is more than uncomfortable. It feels like his gaze has … weight.’

This sent a ripple of fear through the group and he regretted saying anything at all.

‘What did he want?’ asked Marlene. ‘Like, was it meeting with your parents or a dinner party or a political thing or …’

‘He wanted to recruit me,’ said Regulus duly. ‘Says I should join the Death Eaters at the end of the year.’

A horrified hush fell over the group. All except James. He sat forward, wrapping his arm around Regulus’ torso and said, ‘Which is why Regulus is moving in with my family.’

‘You’re adopting all the Black brothers,’ teased Arthur.

‘Would that we could steal more away,’ said Alice bitterly. ‘But the things I’m hearing even in the hallways this year – people are bolder than before. Willing to say things they used to avoid saying.’

‘I’ve noticed that,’ said Remus with a grunt.

‘As have I,’ said Regulus.

Thankfully the conversation moved on from there without needing his input. He glared at the trees of the Forbidden Forest, thoughts skipping from worry to worry. Every once in a while, pain spread through a random part of his body, an aftershock from the curse. It left him on edge. Oddly panicked in a way he had no control over. He didn’t even realise he was trembling – more from pain and anxiety than fear – until James whispered, ‘Deep breaths.’ He said it so low that no one looked over and it was only then that Regulus realised James still had an arm around him. Had had an arm around him the entire time.

Leaning into James, he focused instead on his heartbeat. Somehow that worked. It was terribly comforting for a ruse.

‘Professor McGonagall!’ Hagrid’s booming greeting made them all jump.

The students all traded nervous looks.

‘I’m quite certain I see my prefects actively skipping their classes,’ she said when she reached them, looking at each in turn, a thin eyebrow raised.

‘Regulus was cursed,’ said Lily, rising to her feet, the picture of contriteness. ‘We just wanted to keep him company.’

McGonagall sighed. ‘Yes, that is precisely why I’m here. Mr Black, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you. And I’m going to pretend I don’t see everyone here flouting the rules. This time.’ She blinked pointedly at the lot of them before beckoning to Regulus. ‘Mr Black.’

‘Can I go?’ Sirius was already on his feet and he reached a hand out to Regulus, tugging him to his feet and steadying him when he swayed. ‘He’s my brother and he’s had a rough day.’

‘You may walk with us, but Dumbledore wants to see him alone.’

‘Fine. Yeah.’ Sirius winked at Regulus. ‘Come on. Dumbledore’s just gonna say he’s sorted everything with Mum.’

Regulus waved half-heartedly to the others. James looked like he wanted to run after them, but he hung back. Regulus almost wished he wouldn’t.

‘Did Dumbledore find out who cursed Regulus?’ asked Sirius as they walked towards the castle. ‘They can’t stay in the school, Professor. That’s illegal what they did.’

‘The student has been removed from the grounds,’ said McGonagall. ‘There will be a formal investigation, but I do not believe they will be returning.’

‘Who was it?’ The rage that laced Sirius’ question made Regulus’ throat tighten with gratitude.

‘I’ll let Professor Dumbledore explain.’

The conversation remained unfinished as they walked through the castle. Regulus had never been to Dumbledore’s office before, though he knew where it was. Still, they reached it faster than he’d anticipated and he wasn’t remotely prepared to face the headmaster alone.

‘It’ll be fine,’ said Sirius when McGonagall left them at the entrance upon speaking the password to let them in. ‘I’ll wait here. Wanna bet on who it was? Ten Galleons it was Snape.’

Regulus rolled his eyes. ‘Ten Galleons it was Mulciber.’

‘Why Mulciber?’

‘He took the Dark Mark in March.’

Sirius’ eyebrows disappeared beneath his black curls. ‘How much did I miss?’

‘A lot.’

‘Will you tell me? Later?’

Regulus eyed him a moment before inclining his head. ‘Yeah. We’ll talk.’

Sirius smiled and waved him towards Dumbledore’s office. ‘Don’t keep him waiting.’

The ascent to Dumbledore’s office took the breath from Regulus’ exhausted lungs, but the sight that greeted him was immediately relaxing. There was something almost cosy about the room. Disarming in a good way.

‘Ah, Mr Black.’ Dumbledore waved him over.

‘Sir.’ Regulus sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

‘You have had the most regrettable week, I believe.’

Regulus shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’

‘It doesn’t have to be. I discovered who it was that hexed you at practice and called their parents. They left the school grounds twenty minutes ago.’

‘That was fast.’

‘I have no patience for the use of Unforgiveable Curses upon my students, Mr Black.’ Dumbledore looked very serious, but the twinkle in his eyes was kind. Compassionate. Protective.

‘Who was it?’

‘Mulciber.’

Regulus scoffed. ‘Sirius owes me ten Galleons.’

Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘How did you know?’

‘He’s a Death Eater. I suppose now that’s what he’ll be doing full time. Graduating will be fun.’

Dumbledore did not seem to disagree. ‘I have also spoken with Misters Rosier, Crouch and Snape. I do not see a close friendship in your future, perhaps, but I believe they will leave you alone from here on in. I’d like to believe that the time they have left in these walls will steer them away from the paths I fear they are currently heading down, but as a teacher, I can only teach. Sometimes that is not enough.’

‘The Dark Lord wants open war. Quiet kills and slow infiltrations will only go on so long. I feel like we’re almost at it - a war of wizards against wizards.’

‘I fear you are right.’

Regulus’ leg jiggled unbidden as his anxiety resurged. ‘I never understood it,’ he murmured. ‘Why wizards hate anyone unlike them. You see it everywhere. Not just Muggles and Muggle-borns. They hate centaurs and mermaids and house elves. All sentient beings. All with their own families. Why hate them? Should it not be more fascinating that there’s so much variety?’

A smile dimpled Dumbledore’s cheek. ‘I dare say, Mr Black, I greatly underestimated you. I apologise for that.’

‘It’s easier to survive when you pretend to be one of them. Until it isn’t.’

‘I’m sorry you had to learn that lesson, Mr Black. No one should ever experience such disappointment from loved ones. I empathise.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes.’ Dumbledore sat forward, folding his fingers together on the desk in front of him. ‘And I want you to know that I’m proud of you, Mr Black.’

‘For what?’

‘It is not most wizards who would walk away from Lord Voldemort after meeting him in their home. Who hesitate to join him to his face. You are a brave man, Mr Black. Do not forget that.’

Regulus did not feel brave.

‘I want you to know I’ve also spoken to your parents.’

He swallowed. ‘Oh?’

‘They wished to remove you from school grounds earlier today as you feared. I told them that I could not allow that and that I’ve filed an emergency order of protection with the Minister.’

‘I imagine they took that well.’

‘They did not, no. But you asked for my protection. For as long as I am able, you have it.’

Words from the most powerful wizard in the world. Words that should have felt like armour. But Regulus knew that Blacks were patient. They could wait years. And the Dark Lord was even more patient. His war was decades in the making.

In his heart of hearts, Regulus knew that one day he would pay for this choice. One day his family would come after him for leaving. One day the Dark Lord would come after him for deserting.

Because Dumbledore was wrong. It wasn’t brave men who refused the Dark Lord – it was dead men.

Chapter Text

The weather forecast in The Daily Prophet suggested rain the whole weekend, but such tidings were not enough to dampen the Marauders’ determination to go to Hogsmeade Saturday morning. Then again, a snowstorm wouldn’t have been enough to dampen Sirius’ commitment to sneaking out of the castle whenever opportunity presented itself. Sirius was forever itching for a new adventure, and not even a castle the size of Hogwarts seemed large enough for him to stretch his legs.

James was up at dawn, tension that had nothing to do with sneaking out of the castle and everything to do with the previous day’s events making his stomach tight. He dressed in his favourite Muggle jeans and the coat he’d bought that summer in London with Sirius. Sirius, too, opted for Muggle clothes. Remus and Peter, in contrast, donned their usual everyday robes, which were shades of brown and dark blue, respectively. On non-approved weekends, wearing Hogwarts uniforms was a sure way to draw attention to themselves. Besides, wearing his school robes outside of school made James feel like a child.

‘You going to breakfast?’ Sirius asked, absently running gel through his thick black hair with his fingers.

‘Going to grab Regulus. Want to come?’

‘Nah. You go. Meet you in the Great Hall?’

‘I thought we could have breakfast in Hogsmeade.’

Sirius pursed his lips in thought, then nodded. ‘Yeah, cool.’

‘Meet you on the fourth floor by the mirror?’

‘Sorted.’

James bumped fists with him as he passed by. Seconds later he was jogging down the staircase, performing a grooming charm as he went (which, due to him not paying attention, resulted in him breathing out green, mint-scented clouds for thirty seconds).

The door to the Room of Requirement appeared as he strolled down the long corridor on the seventh floor. He grinned and slipped inside.

Regulus was still in bed, the blankets bunched up around him, face pressed into his pillow. It was a scene that ought to have been serene, but Regulus’ fists were clenched and his face was screwed up like he was in pain.

‘Regulus,’ he called.

Regulus’ eyes snapped open and he sat up, drawing his wand from his pillow in a fluid motion and pointing it directly at James’ heart.

‘It’s me!’ James held up both hands.

‘James,’ he panted, lowering his wand. ‘Fuck. Sorry.’ A sheen of sweat clung to him and he looked deeply troubled. His hand shook as he ran it over his mouth and chin.

‘Bad dream?’

‘I don’t have good ones.’ Regulus truly looked exhausted and when he stood, James wondered if it was just his imagination or if Regulus was under weight. His pyjama trousers hung low on his hips and the bones stuck out a bit too much.

Worry butterflying in his chest, James meandered over. ‘What helps?’

Regulus squeezed the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. The move drew James’ attention to his arms and torso. The bruises were fading, the cuts healing, but they still left James deeply furious to see.

‘Nothing,’ grunted Regulus.

James scratched the back of his head uncertainly. ‘Are you sure you want to go to Hogsmeade? We can stay here.’

‘No, I want a distraction.’

Concern cascaded through James and suddenly his hands were on either side of Regulus’ face. The bones of his cheeks felt too prominent beneath James’ fingers; his skin soft and warm. ‘Well,’ he murmured conspiratorially, ‘that is my speciality.’

Regulus smiled into his hand before stepping back and beginning to get dressed. ‘Still going to get me drunk today?’ he asked as he tugged on his jeans.

‘I am a man of my word.’

‘Good.’ Regulus accio’d his boots over from where they’d been discarded by the door and stomped them on. ‘So, how are we getting out of the castle?’

‘One of the secret passageways.’

‘How many are there?’

‘A good few to Hogsmeade that we know of, but sure, I didn’t even know this room existed. I bet you if we asked everyone in the school, we could find another ten.’

‘That’s probably true. I know of one through the kitchens. And when you need food badly, this room will take you there, too.’

James looked around wildly. ‘Really? Where?’

‘Curiosity isn’t a need,’ teased Regulus. ‘It’ll only show up here when it’s needed. Right now I need a bedroom that’s safe. So that’s what I’ve got.’

James really did love Hogwarts. ‘My bedroom.’

‘You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?’

‘Little bit. It’s very flattering.’

A slight blush reddened Regulus’ pale face. ‘So, was that new information? The passages.’

‘Yep.’

‘Good. Where are yours?’

‘Ah …’ Scratching his jaw, James squinted in thought. ‘Behind a mirror on the fourth floor, which is where we’re going today. Filch is rarely hanging about. There’s also a passage behind the Statue of the One-Eyed Witch. Behind Gregory the Smarmy. The West Wall. The Hieroglyphic Hall. A few others that I’m probably forgetting.’ He kept the Whomping Willow’s route to himself, although he felt bad about it. Sirius had suggested they spend the afternoon in the Shrieking Shack, but everyone had agreed to keep the passageway’s end location a secret. None of them wanted Regulus to ever stumble through the passageway during the full moon.

An hour later the group was in Hogsmeade and making their way through the cobblestone streets to the shops up ahead. James, who hadn’t eaten and knew none of the others had, suggested they stop in for food first, and Sirius ducked into the first café they reached. Everyone followed him in.

The enticing scents of baking bread, warm chocolate, steaming tea, roasting coffee and other wonderful combinations hung heavy in the air.

Sirius made a beeline to the counter and ordered a coffee and a box of pastries. No doubt, he fully intended to eat all eight pastries. James appraised the menu thoughtfully, stomach rumbling, and ended up settling on sausage rolls and a cup of coffee. Peter went for a bagel and a hot tea. Yet to James’ surprise, Remus and Regulus both said, ‘Just coffee.’

Sirius rolled his eyes. ‘That’s not breakfast.’

‘Not hungry,’ said Remus with a shrug.

‘Nor am I,’ said Regulus, jamming his fists into his coat pockets.

Their food arrived almost immediately in tiny little boxes, floating through the air from the kitchen in the back by a waitress who appeared to be doing ten things at once. Somehow, nothing crashed and the boxes stacked themselves neatly on the table to be picked up. Their cups floated down to sit beside the boxes, coffee not even sloshing. A jug of milk flew over and hovered above the cups.

‘Yes, please,’ said Peter. The jug obligingly poured a splash of milk into his coffee.

‘I’m fine,’ said Sirius.

‘Me too,’ said Regulus.

‘Likewise, thank you,’ said Remus.

The jug turned towards James’ cup.

‘Yes, thank you.’

The jug filled his cup to the brim and then floated back into the kitchen. Lids floated down and fit themselves neatly atop the cups.

The owner smiled at them. ‘That all, dearies?’ She looked at Regulus and Remus. ‘You boys look like you could use a warm meal.’

‘She’s right,’ said Sirius. ‘Get something.’

‘I’m fine,’ said Remus.

Sirius frowned. ‘I can—’

‘Sirius, I’ll eat later. Let me enjoy my coffee.’

James’ eyes flicked from Regulus to Remus dubiously. Both looked underweight. Both looked exhausted. Of them all, Regulus and Remus perhaps needed breakfast the most. ‘You sure?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Remus. ‘Come on. Pete wanted to get new robes and the queues are always way too long. Eat and walk. Go.’

‘Good point,’ said Peter, stuffing the bagel into his mouth and taking an enormous bite.

‘I’m going to go to the loo,’ said Regulus, thumbing over his shoulder. ‘Meet you all outside.’

James nodded and followed the others back out into the cool morning air. They ate in silence, all rocking on the balls of their feet or meandering in circles in a vain attempt to ward off the wind chill.

Two minutes later, Regulus jogged out of the café and wandered down to them. He had two sandwiches in hand and tossed one at Remus without warning. ‘Changed my mind, figured I’d get you one.’

Remus, who had caught it with an impressive show of preternatural reflexes, hesitated. ‘Are you—’

‘Get me back next time. Sirius is right, we’re going to feel sick wandering around the shops without food. I don’t like shops on a full stomach at the best of times. The last thing we want to do is faint on the robes.’

Rolling his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, Remus charmed his coffee to float beside him and opened his sandwich. ‘Good point.’

‘Let’s go, then,’ said Peter, waving them all to follow him.

‘No more than ten minutes, Pete,’ said Sirius. ‘I want to chill out and smoke.’

‘You always want to chill out and smoke.’

‘I am a man of refined taste, darling.’

Peter flicked his fingers at Sirius, who kicked a rock playfully back at him.

The group spread out as they wandered down the hill, finishing their breakfasts in turn. James finished his pastries, tossed the napkin into a nearby bin, and nursed the rest of his coffee. Regulus, too, had finished his sandwich and with a wave of his wand, sent the wrapper back to the bin James had just used.

He watched, puzzled, as Regulus dusted crumbs off his hands and then proceeded to pull a handful of Galleons out of his pocket. He waved his wand over them, whispering a spell James didn’t know. The Galleons flew through the air and tucked themselves neatly, gently into Remus’ pocket. He didn’t even notice.

‘What—’

Regulus stowed his wand back into his pocket and plucked his coffee cup out of the air where it had been floating along beside him. ‘Your friend can’t afford breakfast, Potter. Do you think he’s going to be able to afford lunch?’

Frowning, James looked ahead at Remus who was joking with Sirius and Peter about something. ‘What makes you say that?’

Regulus raised a black eyebrow pointedly. ‘He was hungry when we left the castle, Potter. He was hungry until he saw the prices.’

James watched Remus, a strange feeling brewing in his gut. It bothered him that he hadn’t noticed. Remus had mentioned that his father switched jobs recently, but James hadn’t considered what that might mean for his friend’s pocket money. Fleamont and Euphemia, his own parents, sent him money with the family owl every few weeks so that he’d always have something for the trips to Hogsmeade.

His father’s company had done remarkably well years ago and James never remembered a time they hadn’t had everything they wanted. Sirius, too, had always had money when he still lived with his family, and since moving in with James the previous year, the Potters had sent Sirius money in the post, too. And Peter’s mother spoiled him more than any of them and he always had more than he could spend in a weekend. It wasn’t unusual for them to find coins around the dorm, mention them to Peter and for him to shrug and say, ‘Keep it.’ But now that he thought about it, James realised that Remus never bought much on their trips. Never had. They had spent years haunting Hogsmeade even when they didn’t have permission to be out of school and it had never once occurred to James that Remus might be struggling with money.

He wanted to punch himself in the face.

‘I never noticed,’ he whispered, ashamed.

‘Sirius did.’ Regulus offered James a reassuring smile. ‘Told me about it the first Christmas he came back home. Realised that Remus couldn’t afford to get you guys Christmas presents. So he faked a letter from Mr Lupin and sent him money. He’s been doing it ever since. I think he’d feel worse if Remus wasn’t too proud to ask for help, but from what he tells me, Remus is allergic to it. What’s funnier is that he started doing it to the Lupins, too.’

‘Wait, what? How?’

‘Oh, this was like his third year? Mr Lupin wrote to Remus that he’d lost a job and Remus was really worried about them because his mother had medical bills at the time.’

‘Okay, that I remember.’

‘Yeah, well you know Sirius. He’d do anything for you lot. So he came up with this plan to trick the Muggle company Mr Lupin worked for into having a raffle with a cash prize. He got our uncle to cast a few spells and—’ Regulus snapped his fingers. ‘—the Lupins had money again. The money wasn’t enough to be life changing – Sirius only had access to so much of his inheritance – but I think it helped them for a few years.’

‘I had no idea.’ James had always known Sirius loved them all more than he knew how to put into words, and had long been desperately in love with Remus, but he had never been so impressed with – and proud of – his best friend before. Sirius had done quite a lot of damage to Remus – and to their trust in him – the night he told Severus Snape about the Whomping Willow, almost getting him killed. Sirius had vowed to make it up to them - especially Remus - but it seemed he had been doing that for years prior already, in his own mad, bizarre way. James felt a rush of deep, immeasurable love for his best friend. He also wondered how much else he’d missed about the ones he loved most.

‘You notice a lot,’ he noted.

Regulus shrugged. ‘You notice a lot of things when you’re looking at everyone else and no one’s looking at you.’

Randomly, and quite unexpectedly, James almost said, I’m looking at you, but he wasn’t that much of a hopeless git.

Rain began to fall as they finished shopping – Peter got robes, Sirius got more snacks, Regulus picked up a new notebook – and then Sirius led the way out of town unprompted, his arm slung casually around Remus’ shoulders as he chatted to Peter about the latest Quidditch scandal mentioned in the newspaper that morning.

James tuned them out, turning instead towards Regulus, who had fallen in beside him. The wind was whipping Regulus’ black hair to and fro across his pale face and James felt oddly worried that the wind would blow him away or the cold would sicken him. Little worries that he attributed to the chaos of late, but which ate at him in a way nothing had since the time he’d been consumed with worry about Lily Evans having an asthma attack that could kill her during a bout of bronchitis that plagued the school in fifth year.

And oh, that connection gave James a lot to think about.

‘Where are we going?’ asked Regulus, cutting him a sidelong glance as they made their way up the winding road after the others. ‘Are we going to the Shrieking Shack?’

‘Yup,’ Sirius called over his shoulder, a wicked grin on his face.

Regulus raised a dubious eyebrow.

‘It’s not actually haunted,’ James assured him. ‘That’s a myth.’

‘Huh.’

James wanted to elaborate, but couldn’t, and Regulus didn’t press the issue.

When they reached the shack, Sirius waved his wand at the doorless structure, said, ‘Alohomerta,’ and the boards rearranged themselves to create an opening. The boys filed in and the wall reformed.

‘What spell was that?’

Sirius winked at him. ‘A mash-up.’

‘All right, I’m intrigued,’ said Regulus. ‘Has it never had doors?’

‘Never,’ said Sirius. ‘It took some time, but we figured out how to make temporary ones when we need to.’

‘The mash-up.’

‘Precisely.’

‘Not bad.’

The shack was in desperate need of a thorough renovation and an interior decorator, but it had also become something of their gathering place even when it wasn’t the full moon.

The group of young men sat down in a room of broken furniture, dim light filtering in through the boarded up windows, and Sirius started the record player. The harsh chords of his favourite punk rock band soon echoed around the room. It wasn’t James’ favourite genre, but it always put everyone in a good mood.

Dropping down onto the broken sofa, Sirius dug a pouch out of his pocket and set it on the lopsided coffee table. James recognised it as the smoking kit he’d bought in Diagon Alley years ago.

While Sirius rolled joints, Peter passed around bottles of Beetle Berry Whiskey with a wave of his wand, and then began taking boxes and bags of snacks out of his backpack.

‘We just ate,’ said Regulus, bemused.

‘There’s never enough food, trust me. We’ll all be eating in twenty minutes.’

‘Besides, it’s been a long week,’ said Sirius unapologetically as he held up the joint for inspection. At Remus’ approving nod, he lit it and blew a cloud of smoke at Remus before continuing. ‘And we promised Regulus we’d get him sloshed. And properly sloshed and properly stoned requires properly fed.’

‘That is the code,’ agreed James sagely.

‘It’s appreciated,’ said Regulus, raising his whiskey bottle.

‘We’re all going to be so sick in the morning,’ said Remus.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ retorted Peter.

Indeed, it wasn’t long at all until they were all intoxicated and soon a haze of smoke hung in the still air of the shack.

‘I was thinking we prank the Slytherins next week,’ said Sirius when the conversation about their upcoming NEWTs tapered off, blowing a circle of smoke into the air above him. He let it hang for a moment before inhaling it back in.

‘I’m game,’ said James, more than a little viciously.

Regulus rubbed the corner of his eye with his thumb, then made a face. ‘Mulciber got expelled. Don’t know if it’s worth it now.’

‘Rosier, Crouch, Avery and Snape are all still on my shit list,’ said Sirius. ‘They can’t get away with everything they’ve done.’

‘Would you be saying that if it was just Rosier and Crouch?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I mean, how much is this about Snape?’ asked Regulus.

Sirius took a drag, exhaled, and said, ‘Do I hate Snape? Yeah. Yeah, I fucking do. But that’s not why we’re doing this. We’re doing this because they made your life fucking miserable and drove you out of your own dorm.’

It seemed like revenge meant more to Sirius than it did to Regulus, but he didn’t push his brother to stop, which James knew Sirius was taking as permission. He was going to take it as permission, too. While Regulus might not want to retaliate, James still desperately did.

‘What’s it like?’

James glanced at Peter, who had directed this question to Remus and Regulus.

‘What?’ prompted Remus, taking a swig from his bottle.

‘Kissing a bloke.’

James wasn’t the only one who choked in shock. Sirius inhaled on his joint too sharply and ended up doubling over, coughing violently; whiskey shot out of Remus’ nose and he wiped hurriedly at his face as his whole body shook with laughter. Only Regulus retained his dignity, a smirk curving his lips.

‘Merlin, Peter,’ gasped Sirius, pounding a fist against his chest. ‘It can’t be any different from kissing a lass.’

‘It must be,’ argued Peter. ‘We’ve got facial hair?’

Leaning in towards him, Sirius squinted dramatically. ‘I see no facial hair, Pete.’

Peter lobbed a bottle cap at his head.

‘You ever kissed a girl?’ asked Regulus, sitting forward so that his elbows were on his knees.

‘No,’ said Sirius, winking at Peter, who cried, ‘Yes, I have!’

‘Lies,’ teased James.

‘Have too! I kissed Alice! And Mary!’

Sirius and James gaped at him. ‘When?’ they cried in unison.

‘I kissed Mary last Valentine’s and I kissed Alice over the summer.’

James’ eyebrows shot up. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

Peter held out his hands in nonchalance. ‘A gentleman never kisses and tells.’

‘There’s not a single gentleman in this room,’ said Sirius.

‘Speak for yourself,’ said James. ‘I am the very picture of honour, Pads.’

‘You’re fake dating my brother.’

‘Precisely. And I have been loyal the whole time.’

Regulus tipped his bottle of whiskey towards James.

‘And have you kissed?’ Peter looked between them, curiosity evident.

‘James is in love with Lily, Wormy, of course they haven’t kissed.’ Sirius rolled his eyes. His gaze then darted quickly to James. ‘You haven’t, have you?’

Regulus leaned over and kissed James on the cheek. ‘There. Now we have.’

‘Woo!’ Sirius whistled and clapped his hands together dramatically. Remus rolled his eyes and chuckled.

‘You lot are no help,’ said Peter.

‘That curious, are we?’ Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at him.

‘I mean, not really. But how would anyone know? Here I thought we all liked girls and then one day loads of you are liking blokes, too.’

Regulus raised his hand. ‘I’ve always only liked blokes.’

‘And how do you know? Did you try kissing a girl and realise you hated it?’

‘Yes,’ said Regulus.

Sirius’ eyes went wide. ‘Who?’

‘Talia Ollivander. Mum’s Christmas party three years ago.’

‘No shit?’ Sirius nodded, clearly taken by surprise. ‘Huh. You know, I was trying to kiss her that night.’

Regulus smirked wickedly. ‘I know. I was quite proud of that.’

‘Slut,’ teased Sirius.

‘Says you,’ retorted Regulus.

Peter and James both let out barks of laughter.

‘I just wonder if it’s the same or if I’m missing out on something, that’s all,’ said Peter. ‘If I hate it, then I know for sure.’

Regulus stamped out his joint and blew a cloud of weed scented smoke at Peter. ‘Do you want me to kiss you so that you know?’

Peter turned deep scarlet.

‘Absolutely not, I don’t need the trauma of witnessing that,’ said Sirius dramatically. ‘Peter, I forbid it.’

‘Yes, if my boyfriend is going to kiss any man here, it’s me.’ James said it with a grin and a wink, but inside his stomach tightened. The thought of Regulus kissing Peter made him want to break what remained of the sofa.

‘Perfect, you can tell me.’ Peter gestured between them. ‘For science, go on.’

Sirius groaned loudly. ‘Oh, please no!’

But James, filled with confident giddiness brought on by whiskey and weed, suddenly thought this was a brilliant idea. ‘For science, Sirius. We are but men after knowledge, are we not?’

Remus snorted. ‘Is that what we’re calling it?’

Getting to his feet in a graceful move, Regulus walked over and stopped in front of James, who looked up at him from the sofa. ‘Shall we, Potter? For science?’

James opened his arms and gestured towards his lap. ‘For science.’

‘Oh, Merlin,’ cried Sirius, covering his face with his hands and falling over onto his side.

James still thought it had to be a joke when Regulus leaned down and captured him in a kiss. Not a peck, or a soft brush of their mouths together. No, this was like fusion. Suddenly Regulus’ face was against his own, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle, and James gasped against his mouth. Regulus tasted like whiskey and smoke, and his fingers were cool on James’ cheeks where he held their faces together. James opened his mouth automatically, the desire to be consumed coming out of nowhere and seizing him without warning, and Regulus leaned in, chasing him just as eagerly, before drawing away. His lips were slightly swollen and his dark eyes were heavy lidded and filled with desire.

‘Better or worse than Lily?’ asked Peter from the other side of the room, watching them like they were some kind of Muggle documentary and completely ruining the moment.

It took James another moment to remember how to smile. ‘You were wrong, Pete,’ he somehow managed to tease, though his voice was deep with desire. ‘It’s nothing like kissing a girl.’

Everyone laughed.

James, skin hot and heart still racing, snatched up his half-drunk bottle and took several large gulps of whiskey.

‘See,’ said Peter, holding out his hands like this entire drunken display made complete sense, ‘that’s all I wanted to know.’

‘You’re all bananas,’ said Sirius. ‘Moony, c’mere to me. There are too many weirdos here and Jamie’s just deflowered my brother’s mouth.’

Remus shuffled over to Sirius and dropped down against him. Sirius tugged him close in a half-hug.

‘I did not deflower his mouth,’ said James primly. ‘Talia Ollivander did that.’

‘Actually Lucius Malfoy did that.’

Everyone went silent.

‘W-what?’ The humour had fled from Sirius’ face. ‘Malfoy kissed you?’

‘I thought Malfoy was a raging bigot,’ said James, equally as annoyed.

‘He is,’ said Regulus. ‘Don’t see how that’s ever stopped anyone before. But it was mostly Bella’s fault.’

‘This just gets better and better.’ Fury had darkened Sirius’ face. ‘When was this?’

‘The time you went with James to Spain. Bella put Polyjuice potion into what was supposed to be my orange juice. I drank it before realising it. She turned me into Narcissa and told me I was to pretend to be Narcissa for the day so that they could sneak out to Knockturn Alley. Malfoy came by and kissed me. I didn’t know what to do. When he found out later, he …’ Regulus gestured to his face. ‘He broke my eye socket. Kreacher made me stay in bed for a week drinking healing potions.’

James and Sirius traded looks of horror. It had been their fourth year. They’d taken a port key to Spain for a New Year’s Eve party.

‘You said it was a group of Muggle boys,’ said Sirius reproachfully. ‘I asked you when I came home. I remember that.’

‘I didn’t want to start any problems. I just wanted to get back to Hogwarts.’

‘Merlin. Fucking Malfoy. What a loser.’

Regulus shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago.’

‘We’ll find you a good bloke one day, bro.’ Sirius offered Regulus a bracing smile. ‘Things will be easier once we’re out of this place.’

‘I hope so.’

‘What does everyone think of the new proposals being put forward at the Ministry?’ said Remus loudly.

It worked. The conversation turned towards the worrying trends in anti-Muggle rhetoric that was growing at the Ministry as Lord Voldemort’s influence expanded across Europe.

At some point James nodded off, though he didn’t remember even closing his eyes. When he awoke it was hours later and the sun was setting outside the boarded-up windows, casting dark shadows across the room of broken furniture.

Peter was propped against one pillar, fast asleep, his cloak over his body like a blanket. Sirius was on the ground, using Remus’ leg as a pillow. Remus was combing his fingers absently through Sirius’ hair, though neither of them seemed to realise he was doing it. They were murmuring in low tones to each other, lost in their own little world.

There was no sign of Regulus.

Standing quietly, James slipped out of the room. Sirius and Remus didn’t even seem to notice.

He found Regulus standing outside a hole in the shack wall. The beams of the wall were hovering in mid-air, waiting to be put back together. Regulus’ magic was impressive, to say the least. James wasn’t sure he’d even be able to hold a spell for so long.

The rain had stilled for the moment but a wet, sharp bite remained on the wind as it swept past, blowing down his neck and sending shivers across his entire body.

Regulus was crouched on the balls of his feet a few paces away from the shack, on a large rock that jutted out of the ground. He was smoking, and the clouds trailed away from him in serene curls.

James watched him for a moment, the kiss from earlier replaying in his head. But the memory shifted to others too quickly and his guilt and concern returned tenfold. It was hard to believe it had taken so much damage for them to get here. How much more could they have included him over the years if they had all just talked? He wondered wistfully, too, what Regulus’ Animagus form would be.

‘I can hear you thinking, Potter,’ said Regulus, not turning around.

James went to his side, the ground squelching beneath his boots. ‘Why are you out here?’

‘Thought I’d catch up on stargazing.’

‘Oh? Any new constellations?’

‘Not tonight.’

‘I see one.’

Regulus blew out a cloud of smoke, squinting up at the sky. ‘Where?’

James must have been drunk, because that was the only explanation for reaching out and brushing Regulus’ cheek with a finger. ‘Here.’

Definitely drunk.

Regulus let out a low laugh. ‘I get it. Why my brother loves you. Why Remus and Peter do. Why everyone does. You’re an easy man to love, James Potter.’

‘Are you saying you love me, Black?’

‘Don’t let it go to your head. You saved my life.’

‘And aren’t you glad?’

Regulus looked back up at the sky, the shadows obscuring half his expression and giving him a haunted appearance. ‘It’s better to make it hard for them. To inconvenience them with my existence. My death gives everyone I hate exactly what they want and I can’t abide that.’

‘You’re happy you’re alive out of spite?’

‘A little.’ He laughed grimly. ‘But mostly I’m glad I lived long enough to fix things with Sirius. I’m glad I lived long enough to get to know you properly. I was right about you, James. I’m glad I was right about you. That memory at your house kept me going for so many years. Knowing you’re exactly the man I thought you were is …’ Regulus took a drag from the joint, still staring up at the sky. ‘Thank you, Potter. For being so easy to love.’

James wasn’t sure any words had ever hit him quite so deeply. He forgot, briefly, that he was supposed to be breathing, and almost gasped. He only just managed to cover it.

In the end, he didn’t have a response for Regulus. He remained silently at his side until the others joined them twenty minutes later and the group headed back into Hogsmeade.

It was only later, after the group were back in the Gryffindor dormitory and had all dispersed for bed, that James realised why he’d felt unmoored and strange since the shack. It wasn’t just that he felt responsible for Regulus. It wasn’t just that he wanted him alive. It wasn’t just that he wanted him happy. Or that every smile and laugh felt like a personal victory. ‘You’re an easy man to love,’ Regulus had said. Funny. James could say the same thing about Regulus.

Chapter Text

A fortnight after Mulciber hexed Regulus with an Unforgivable Curse during Quidditch practice and got himself expelled, Madam Pomfrey cleared Regulus to fly. Tadhg, his team captain, insisted he return to twice weekly practices, assuring Regulus that the team had had multiple meetings with Dumbledore, Slughorn and Madam Hooch about the incident.

‘Oh that’s wonderful,’ he said sarcastically when Tadhg told him this. The thought of there being meetings about him made him deeply ill.

‘Something had to be done,’ said Tadhg flatly. ‘It got beyond out of hand.’

‘I’d rather quit.’

‘Tough shit. You’re the Seeker and I expect you at practice.’

And that was the end of that conversation.

For some reason, Regulus didn’t tell James or the other Marauders the morning he headed back down to the Quidditch pitch. He didn’t want to worry them, true, but mostly he just wanted to pretend that it wasn’t happening. For the first time in his life, he actively did not want to fly.

The morning was bright and cheerful enough despite his trepidation and the birds sang to each other as he walked down the hill from the castle towards the Quidditch pitch.

To his surprise, Professor Slughorn and Hagrid were in the stands when he arrived.

‘Hallo, Regulus,’ greeted Hagrid, booming voice far too cheery for so early an hour.

‘Good morning, Mr Black,’ said Slughorn.

‘’Morning, Professors,’ he greeted.

Undoubtedly due to their presence, practice was almost uneventful. Two hours later, Regulus was walking back to the castle, feeling if not better, at least not more cynical.

When he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, James and Sirius immediately chastised him for not telling them he was back with the team and pestered him for every detail, unconvinced that matters had settled so easily.

‘Perhaps Dumbledore scared them,’ said Peter when Sirius asked for the fifth time if Evan Rosier had really been on his best behaviour. ‘I can’t imagine being reprimanded by Dumbledore.’

‘It’s not fun,’ said Sirius bluntly.

‘Hogsmeade tomorrow?’ asked Arthur from down the table where he sat beside Frank, who bobbed his head.

‘Can’t this weekend,’ said Sirius. ‘Next time.’

‘Why not?’

Sirius pointed his fork at Remus, who looked like he wanted to be sick. ‘Moony has the flu. Reckoned we’d stay inside.’

Arthur leaned in, frowning. ‘You all right there, Remus?’

‘Fine,’ said Remus.

‘You really ought to get your bloods checked or something.’ Arthur looked deeply concerned. ‘You’re sick a lot, mate.’

‘Tell me about it,’ muttered Remus.

Regulus eyed him throughout the rest of the meal. He noticed two things: first, there was something absolutely wrong with Remus, but it wasn’t a stomach ache. He looked like he was in actual pain. Second, the other Marauders were all talking like they had plans that weekend. With Remus. Regulus noticed it in the half swallowed phrases they only seemed to catch themselves on partway through.

‘We should—’

‘We’ll, uh—’

‘Be sure to bring—’

Every time one of them started and realised, they stopped, eyes locking furtively. Regulus wasn’t sure what they were up to or why it was some kind of secret, but he found himself growing evermore intrigued with every poor attempt at subterfuge.

When the group dispersed for class, James fell in beside Regulus as was now usual – James seemed to love walking Regulus everywhere he possibly could, which Regulus could admit was stupidly charming. He hadn’t been able to get the day at the Shrieking Shack out of his mind. It was foolish, kissing James. The entire preceding conversation had been about how James liked Lily still. But Regulus hadn’t been able to stop himself. And now all the lines of friendship and fake relationship and something as yet undefined left Regulus uncertain where they stood with each other. Yet still James walked him to class, often with an arm around him or his hand hovering at the base of Regulus’ back like a bodyguard.

‘So, what are you all up to this weekend that Arthur and Frank can’t know about?’ Regulus eyed him curiously. ‘Another Hogsmeade trip? Or is it that you’re pranking the Slytherins and don’t want him to know?’

‘Nah, the spell’s going to take another few days to figure out,’ said James breezily. ‘Probably not until next week. But we don’t want to accidentally explode their eyeballs.’

‘No,’ said Regulus, although he could admit the thought of exploding Evan’s eyeballs was a little intriguing. ‘So did you want to hang out later?’

‘Ah …’ James made a face. ‘I’ve got a shit load of studying to do. I’ve been kind of falling behind. Can I meet you tomorrow morning?’

Regulus raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve turned in all your assignments. You told me so yesterday.’

‘Right. Ah.’

‘It’s fine if you have something with the lads you can’t tell me about, Potter. I won’t be offended.’ Yet even as he said it, Regulus felt a little stung.

‘No, Regulus, it’s not that.’

‘Then what is it?’

James winced.

Thankfully they had reached the classroom and Regulus gestured to the doorway. ‘I’ll catch you later, James.’

‘Regulus—’

‘Don’t worry about it. Honestly.’

‘Regulus.’ James caught his hand and held him back. ‘It’s just some silly Marauder thing that we do once a month. A tradition. But I’ll be free tomorrow morning.’

‘Okay. See you then.’

James clearly had more he wanted to say, but Regulus went into class before he could.

That evening, rather than go to the Great Hall out of a – slightly petty – feeling of frustration with James and Sirius for keeping something from him when he’d been invited to everything else recently, Regulus ate in the kitchens with the house elves.

The kitchens had always been one of Regulus’ favourite haunts, although he’d not spent much time in there that term due to the chaos of, well, everything. But the house elves filled the room with lively chatter and keen observations, and were always good company. He loved hearing their stories. House elves had so much insight into the wizarding world; it astounded him that no one ever took the time to listen.

‘How is Kreacher?’ was the first question he got.

He smiled at Twinkle, an older house elf. ‘He’s good. I miss him.’

‘Kreacher is lucky he has Mr Regulus,’ she assured him.

Regulus’ smile cracked, tears of regret springing to his eyes. ‘I had to leave. That house. I—I wish I could have taken him with me.’

Twinkle put her hand over his. ‘Kreacher knows, Mr Regulus. Most wizards do not care so much. We at Hogwarts are lucky. Not all are.’

‘And how are you all of late?’ Regulus looked around at them, relieved to see that no one was missing. ‘Tell me everything.’

Twinkle instantly launched into a tale about her youngest, which prompted the other house elves to follow suit. Regulus listened to them all with a half-smile. It was like being in a family reunion with two hundred relatives, all of whom wanted to take the Muggle mic on stage. House elves loved company, and loved entertaining, and he knew they wished the students would spend more time with them, though none of them felt like they had the right to instigate such a relationship. It saddened him, as so much of the wizarding world’s archaisms and bigotries did.

‘And you, Mr Regulus?’ asked Twinkle when Marvel had finished telling Regulus about his latest baking masterpiece. ‘Pardoning my curiosity, sir, but the Grey Lady mentioned you were not well.’

Regulus somehow wasn’t annoyed by this, because he knew the ghosts and house elves would not betray his secrets to the other students. They had a code of honour amongst them that wizards could never hope to rival. He hadn’t seen the Grey Lady around much, but he knew she was watching. She had been watching over Hogwarts students for centuries.

‘I’m …’ He shrugged uncertainly. ‘Better than I was, I suppose. I was lonely and sad. More so than I’ve ever been. Sometimes I still am a bit. But feeling better.’

Twinkle nodded understandingly. ‘You are always welcome here, you know? We love your company.’

‘Thank you, my friend.’ Regulus blinked rapidly to keep the sudden onslaught of tears from falling. He turned to Torri and forced a smile. ‘You mentioned something about tea?’

Torri clapped her hands together. ‘I did, Mr Regulus, I did. A new kind! My sister sent it from Germany!’

‘I would love to try some.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes.’ Wiping his eyes quickly, he let the house elves redirect the conversation and drank Torri’s new tea, wondering all the while what James and Sirius were up to. He found himself wanting to share his friends with them. Wanting to introduce Twinkle, Marvel, Torri and all the others to the Marauders. But, painfully, he found himself sure only of Remus’ response. He feared Sirius would be rude and James dismissive and Peter uncomfortable. Pureblood wizards were the worst, he’d found, when it came to treating house elves like they were as worthy of respect as another wizard.

It had always bothered him when his Slytherin friends did it. It had always shamed him when his family did it. But if the Marauders did it, he knew it would break his heart.

Midnight had come and gone when Regulus finally left the kitchens and headed up to the seventh floor. Twice he had to dodge professors, and once he had to duck to avoid Filch, but eventually he was rounding the corner to the corridor where the Room of Requirement came to those who needed it.

The door shivered into place and he slipped inside and locked the door.

But sleep proved illusive and he spent hours staring at the ceiling, wondering what James was up to.

Wondering why he cared so much.

James had not slept.

The night hours had been spent as Prongs, keeping Moony calm with Padfoot and Wormtail. The trio had returned to the castle a little before dawn and then waited for Remus outside the hospital wing while Pomfrey checked him over for any troubling injuries (there was usually at least one).

All four were yawning and rubbing their eyes, tired from the lack of sleep but buzzing on the night’s adventures when they trudged into the Great Hall for breakfast.

James sat beside Peter, trying not to be too overtly worried about the fact that Regulus wasn’t at the table. Or even in the Great Hall.

‘I’m sure he’s just slept in,’ said Sirius, not missing a beat. He yawned, widely. ‘Like we should have done.’

‘It’ll throw us off our entire routine. We’ll nap later.’ Even as he said it, James wanted to forgo napping and track down Regulus. But it wasn’t like he had some kind of excuse to offer him. They were keeping something from him and James could not and would not tell him what it was.

So where did that leave him?

He spent the rest of Saturday expecting Regulus to turn up, but he never did. And when James and the others checked the Room of Requirement, he wasn’t there either.

‘All alone?’

Regulus looked up from his Ancient Runes textbook to see Severus Snape making his way over, an obnoxious smirk on his face. Regulus sighed pointedly. He had been alone in the back stacks of the library for most of the afternoon and was enjoying the serenity. Severus was the very last person he’d wanted to see.

Not taking the hint, Severus strolled over, trailing his finger along the dusty bookshelf. ‘I had a bet with myself. “Will Black and Potter let him in on the secret?” And it seems I was right.’

Snapping his book shut, Regulus sat back in his chair. ‘What do you want, Severus?’

‘If you’re curious where your little mates are going every night this weekend, Black, you should try the Whomping Willow. If you press the knot on the trunk, it’ll open. There’s a passage underneath that your friends like to use when they sneak out. You’ll find out exactly what it is they’re hiding.’

Regulus liked to think he wasn’t a gullible idiot, but he’d be lying if he said this didn’t utterly ignite his curiosity. ‘And you’re telling me this why?’

‘Consider it a favour.’

With that, Severus walked away.

Regulus scowled after him. There was a high probability Severus was making the entire thing up to make him look like an idiot and that’s what Regulus would have presumed had it not been for the odd behaviour of the Marauders and the way James had acknowledged it was a ‘tradition’ of some kind. Which, honestly, was a bloody intriguing thing to have said.

A sudden pop made Regulus jump.

Kreacher, the house elf who had basically raised him, was suddenly on the table. His feet nudged the Ancient Runes book.

‘Kreach!’ Regulus leapt out of his chair and scooped him into a gentle hug. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Kreacher wanted to check on Master Regulus. Kreacher has been hearing dark whisperings in the house. Terrible whisperings.’ Kreacher pulled away and looked at him very seriously. The way he’d looked at Regulus the time he warned him that the Dark Lord was planning on coming for dinner. A fact he’d overheard from Walburga.

Regulus swallowed hard, forcing down the panic that ignited in his chest at the mere mention of his childhood home. ‘Whose?’

‘The Mistress.’ Kreacher trembled. ‘And the Dark Lord.’

A sick shiver scuttled across Regulus’ flesh and he ran a hand over his mouth as he absorbed this. ‘Has he been back to the house?’

‘Mistress offered Kreacher to the Dark Lord.’

Regulus choked. ‘For what?’

As if Kreacher was a thing.

‘Kreacher does not know, Master Regulus, sir. The Dark Lord has sworn Kreacher to secrecy. But the Dark Lord is not Kreacher’s master. Regulus is master.’

Regulus loathed that title with every fibre of his being, but no number of requests over the years had ever prompted Kreacher to call him simply ‘Regulus’ and he had given up trying, much as it made him cringe. He had a feeling Kreacher was forced to use it at his mother’s request, which would be painful for him to break.

Regulus ran a shaking hand over his mouth, thinking quickly. ‘Do you remember what we practised, Kreacher?’

Kreacher bobbed his head. ‘Kreacher was hoping Master Regulus remembered. If Kreacher does not speak, Kreacher has broken no rules.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘If Kreacher could, Kreacher would have Master Regulus remove the memories for good.’

Now even more worried, Regulus raised his wand. ‘Legilimens.’

In a burst of light, Kreacher’s memories spiralled into his own: The Dark Lord coming to dinner … the strange conversation about the differences of house elf magic from wizard magic he had overheard … Walburga offering the Dark Lord Kreacher’s services in future if he needed to avail of him … the Dark Lord forcing Kreacher to drink strange potions and asking how Kreacher reacted to them …

Regulus broke the spell hastily, more unsettled than ever. He was close to vomiting. ‘Oh, Kreacher, I’m so sorry.’

‘The potions have given Kreacher dark dreams.’

‘I know.’ Regulus had seen those, too.

Kreacher straightened up. ‘Mistress is calling Kreacher. Kreacher must go.’

Regulus’ chest clenched. ‘The next time the Dark Lord calls for you, tell me straight away. I’ll end this, Kreach. I won’t let him hurt you.’

Kreacher offered Regulus a rare smile before vanishing.

Utter impotent fury burst through Regulus’ veins. His mother was letting Voldemort experiment on Kreacher? Why? How could anyone – even her – be all right with such horrors?

He had swallowed what she’d done to him, but somehow Kreacher’s pain felt like more of a violation.

He had never hated her so much.

He quickly jotted down Kreacher’s memories on a piece of parchment lest he forget anything. Part of him wanted to ask Sirius if he had any ideas. Sirius had never met Voldemort, but he knew Walburga. He might have some notion.

It was only then that Severus’ strange message came back to him and he realised he’d completely forgotten about what had been bothering him all day.

Rationally Regulus knew that he had no right to be upset. The Marauders had been a foursome for nearly seven years and he’d only been hanging around for a few months after years of a self-made cold war between them all. Even still, it annoyed him, not in the least because Severus apparently knew and he didn’t.

Clenching his jaw, Regulus left the library, trying not to dwell on James and his brother and instead focus on how to help Kreacher. He spent Saturday night alternating between reading and wandering the corridors on patrol, mulling over everything Kreacher had told him.

By Sunday morning, he’d resolved not to even ask James and Sirius where they’d spent the night and why he wasn’t allowed to know.

Until they disappeared with poor excuses for the third evening in a row. And Regulus was more than a little annoyed when they left the dinner table after only a few bites of food and wandered off with hard to believe claims of essays in need of finishing.

James had the grace to look ashamed, but he followed the other three, mouthing, ‘Sorry,’ to Regulus.

This time Regulus gave it less than an hour after curfew had come and gone and everyone was meant to be in bed before caving and going to retrieve his cloak.

He found one Hufflepuff out of bed on his way out of the castle but didn’t dock any points – Regulus was a lot of things, but he tried not to be a hypocrite.

The full moon illuminated his walk across the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest and cold air bit at his ears, neck and hands. Hogwarts in the dark was both beautiful and eerie, and every time he spotted a ghost in the windows of the castle when he glanced over his shoulder, his heart jumped.

When he reached the Whomping Willow, boots wet from the condensation on the grass, he drew out his wand. The tree was one of the stranger things about Hogwarts. It had only been planted the year before he arrived and there was no consensus amongst the students as to why it had been planted on school grounds at all. To Regulus, it had always seemed a wildly stupid thing to have allowed what with so many foolhardy teenagers hanging about ready to test its branches.

Indeed, the tree hummed audibly with life and its branches started to move almost hungrily as he approached.

‘Immobulus,’ he called.

The willow stilled and he darted quickly to the knot on the tree trunk. Any doubt he’d had in the information Severus had given him vanished when a hole into a tunnel opened at the base of the willow.

‘Huh,’ he grunted. His interest was officially piqued.

After glancing around furtively, Regulus descended into the Whomping Willow’s hidden passageway. It was bitterly cold, but thankfully not filled with cobwebs. After a short walk, the tunnel brought him to a broken down mockery of a hallway.

It took him three seconds to recognise the ruins of the Shrieking Shack.

‘Lumos,’ he said, and not quietly, raising his wand. But none of the Marauders appeared.

Regulus made his way into the sitting room they’d occupied on their excursion to Hogsmeade and saw four piles of discarded clothing on the floor. ‘What …’

He stepped forward, tripped, and looked down, frowning. There was nothing.

Bending down carefully, he felt around, lips pursed. He finally encountered what felt like fabric, but he couldn’t see what he was touching. Raising it, he felt its weight, and then he realised. They had an invisibility cloak?

Regulus would admit, he was impressed.

Low voices outside the house caught his attention and Regulus dropped the cloak and straightened up. Walking over to the wall, he opened a hole in the shack’s wall with a quick spell and stepped out. The chill of the night instantly turned his breath to billows of white cloud which sped away on the icy breeze.

He walked towards the fence, listening for the others, but there was no one in sight. No sound. The voices belonged to hosts as invisible as the cloak, it seemed. Had it even been one of the Marauders? Or was it just a villager from Hogsmeade? Or it could have been a ghost straying from the castle for some reason or other.

Raising his wand cautiously, Regulus left the shack behind and stepped into the trees that spread out for acres and, if he went left, merged with the Forbidden Forest around the castle.

The further he wandered into the dark forest, the quieter everything became. The night was many things, but it was not quiet. Even the insects were concealing themselves. That, more than anything else, sent a shiver down his spine as Regulus reached a pond.

The water was immobile, undisturbed, but shimmered with the light from a plant he couldn’t identify. It was truly a gorgeous sight; it was also deeply unsettling. Water was not naturally so still.

A deep howl shattered the silence.

Regulus looked around sharply. He had never known a wolf to sound like that. But he remembered the Care of Magical Creatures lecture that had been spent identifying different animal sounds and two things hit Regulus in that moment: Hogwarts had a werewolf; and his brother and the other Marauders were wandering around the woods with said werewolf. And Severus apparently knew. Why else would he have sent Regulus there?

Fuck.

Yanking the hat James had given him out of his pocket where it had been for days, he threw it up into the air and whisper-shouted, ‘Avenseguim!’

The hat floated ahead, off to find James, and he darted after it, the urgency pressing him into a sprint.

A second howl cut through the silence mere moments later, closer than before—

Pain cascaded across his chest and then he was lifted off the ground.

One moment Regulus was alone, running, and the next he was being thrown into a tree, blood angrily drizzling down his torso from five deep wounds.

The werewolf circled him.

The creature was far, far bigger than Regulus could have ever imagined. Bigger than the pictures he’d been sent by his cousin years ago. He knew that werewolves did not always bite. Sometimes they mauled. But there were rare times, too, where werewolves let people go. He had read enough cases of it.

Regulus dropped his wand and kneeled, head bowed.

The werewolf stilled.

He closed his eyes, willing even the hairs on his head to cease their movement.

Sudden, distant barking made him flinch, but it drew the werewolf’s attention. The wolf hesitated. And then bolted.

It was only then that Regulus collapsed, absolutely spent from remaining still for even thirty seconds as the infection from the wounds spread quickly through his body.

As the fear of imminent death faded away, the pain of the wounds worsened tenfold. He fell over onto his side, the wet iciness of the forest floor a distant and unimportant thing, the burning from the wounds now the only thing he could focus on.

He could not stand.

James awoke on Monday morning to a crisis.

‘Prongs! Prongs! Jamie, are you bleeding?’ Remus was checking him over frantically, digging bruises into his skin with worry.

‘What?’ James sat up, bleary-eyed and still half-asleep. ‘No? No, I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure?’

James tugged open his shirt collar, having hastily put it on in the dark when they’d come back to the shack around dawn, and peered down at his torso. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. What’s wrong?’

‘I’m telling you,’ said Sirius, coming up behind Remus and putting his hands on his shoulders. ‘It was a rabbit or something.’

Unconvinced, Remus raised his hands, which James then realised were stained reddish brown. ‘This isn’t rabbit blood, Sirius. Rabbits aren’t that big.’

James grunted. ‘Fuck.’

Remus blanched.

‘You didn’t hurt anyone, Moony.’ Sirius wrapped his arms around the shell-shocked Remus and tugged him close, kissing the side of his head. ‘It’s all right, mate,’ he said soothingly.

It was moments like this where James wondered who either of them thought they were fooling, but he’d long given up trying to pretend like their dynamic wasn’t one they both seemed to wilfully want to remain ignorant of.

‘We never should have left the shack,’ said Remus, still stricken.

‘We stayed in the woods the entire time. You didn’t hurt anyone.’

‘Did you ever let me out of your sight?’ Remus looked from Sirius to Peter to James. ‘Was I ever out of anyone’s sight?’

‘No,’ said Sirius firmly. ‘Like, at one point you took off racing because you smelled something, but you came right back within, like, five seconds. You literally did not have time to hurt anyone. And we were well into the forest, all the way up by Shiny Pond.’

If the pond had a proper name, they didn’t know it. Peter had dubbed it the Shiny Pond years ago and it’d stuck.

‘That’s half an hour’s walk into the Forbidden Forest,’ reasoned Peter. ‘No students or professors would be out there. That’s centaur territory and they avoid that area on the full moons.’

‘Exactly,’ said Sirius. ‘Thank you, Pete. And when we get back to the castle, you’ll see that everyone’s fine, Moony. It’s all good.’

Remus ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Positive.’

Peter and James nodded succinctly.

They all remembered too vividly the night Severus had seen Remus. How afraid Remus was that he’d bitten him. Or James. Sometimes it seemed like the knowledge that he had never harmed anyone as a werewolf was the only thing that kept Remus from totally giving into his self-hatred and cynicism that his life was over before it began.

It took an hour for them all to calm him down enough to head back to the castle.

Once inside the safety of Hogwarts, Sirius took Remus to Madam Pomfrey for a healing potion while Peter and James headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

To James’ disappointment, Regulus was not there.

Nor was there any sign of him by the time Sirius and Remus arrived twenty minutes later. Nor was he in the Room of Requirement when they went an hour later to check.

‘It’s not like he can avoid us forever,’ said Sirius, though he was frowning. ‘He probably went to class early. We’ll find him at dinner.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘He’s just hacked off at us. We ditched him all weekend. But what can we say?’

‘We need to come up with a better story.’ James knew they couldn’t tell Regulus the truth, but he hated the idea that Regulus thought they didn’t want him around and was taking their actions personally, but of course he was. Anyone would. And James would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he feared Regulus might harm himself again. But he was sworn to secrecy on that matter, too, and so he had a storm of loyalties churning in his chest and no one he could talk to about the whole of it.

In the end, Regulus couldn’t make it back to the castle on his own. The fever from the infection took hold and did not let up. He knew werewolves only transferred lycanthropy via bite, but their claws were deeply poisonous to humans on their own.

He spent hours drifting in and out of consciousness on the forest floor, fever unrelenting, awareness an elusive beast. Yet at some point he gathered his wits enough to call out for Kreacher and his beloved house elf appeared.

Kreacher brought him to the school kitchens where the other house elves immediately surrounded them and asked how they could help.

After Kreacher forced a healing potion down Regulus’ throat, he was able to clear his head enough to think of antivenoms.

‘There’s antivenom in Professor Slughorn’s office,’ he told Kreacher, vision dipping in and out. He was absolutely drenched in sweat, yet his lips and limbs were numb. Speaking was incredibly difficult. ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ he added. ‘Please.’

‘We won’t, Master Regulus,’ Kreacher assured him.

Mere moments later a bottle was being tipped to his lips by three house elves.

Four seconds after that, Regulus started screaming.

Regulus woke up to a hammering noise that went straight into his skull; he had never had such a bad migraine. And it sounded like a thousand hippogriffs were stampeding through his ear canal. He sat up as the banging went on, clutching his head.

It took several seconds to realise he was in the Slytherin dormitory, which he hadn’t set foot in since the previous April. It took another minute for everything to come back to him. Kreacher had likely brought him here at the house elves’ directions.

With slow, pained movements, Regulus donned a shirt, buttoned it with fingers that did not want to bend, and then limped over to the door, wand in hand.

He was greeted with four furious faces.

‘What are you doing back here?’ asked Barty, sneering at him.

‘Leaving,’ said Regulus. Pushing past Evan, who had remained silent, he headed out of the common room and into the freezing corridors of the dungeons.

The stairs proved almost Sisyphean, each step draining his energy and tugging at the wounds on his chest that ached under the layers of bandages.

As he tried to ascend the stairs, he went over everything he knew about werewolves. He could dimly recall that werewolf scratches could take years to heal if not properly dealt with, which did not improve his mood.

After what felt an age, he found himself at the top of the stairs. He tried to remember how to get up to the seventh floor, but it took him a beat. Groaning quietly at the prospect, he set off, trudging through the corridors of the castle. He hoped that when he reached the staircases, they took pity on him and didn’t move him further from the seventh floor than he already was.

‘Bro!’

Sirius’ shout echoed around the stone walls and Regulus halted belatedly. It was like trying to think through molasses. Molasses that was stabbing him.

‘We’ve been looking for you all—’ Sirius stopped. ‘Shit. You okay? Reg?’

Regulus swayed on his feet and Sirius caught him before he could stumble. His brother’s arms somehow supported him completely and he sank into Sirius, relieved.

‘Regulus, what happened?’

‘Where were you?’ How long had it been since he’d seen him? It felt like days. ‘I was looking for you …’

‘And you, what? Fell off a cliff?’

Regulus let out a shrill noise, then realised his slip, and hastily caught the truth before it could fall from his lips. Even his hazed thoughts could quickly conjure up memories of how, though he had since apologised for it, Sirius had verbally recoiled against homosexuality in their youth; how he had always talked down to house elves, even after years of Regulus pestering him not to, and had never apologised for it; how he still argued that Slytherins were inherently worse people, and that Regulus was somehow the exception to this rule simply because Sirius had decreed him one. Sick as he was, Regulus did not trust his brother with the truth about a werewolf in Hogsmeade – a realisation that broke his heart.

‘Potions accident,’ he mumbled, brushing sweat from his forehead and out of his eyes where it had dripped down, burning every time. ‘Was trying to impress the Ravenclaws. It exploded on me.’

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. ‘Merlin. Are you okay?’

‘Be fine. Just … need to sleep.’

‘All right. Twit. Come on.’ Sirius put a hand between his shoulders and gently nudged him forward, still casting sidelong glances of concern every few steps. ‘You sure you don’t need Pomfrey? You look like shit.’

‘I’m fine. It …’ He fought desperately for his mind to clear. ‘I was trying to make a potion that, if spilled, creates a forest.’

Sirius whistled. ‘All right. Not what I was expecting. Go on, then.’

‘It almost worked. But I added too many phoenix feathers. It sent a branch out of the cauldron right at my stomach. So I’ve got a bruise the size of a Muggle car across my whole chest. It hurts like fuck, but I have potions in my trunk in the room to reduce bruising. I’ll be fine.’

Saying that much took the last remnants of energy from him and he had to work to keep from gasping for breath. Walking up staircase after staircase was also not remotely helping and at this point Sirius was basically carrying him.

‘Let me get this straight: you got punched by a tree that you made in a cauldron?’

‘Yes.’

‘I fucking love you, you genius.’

Regulus wheezed a laugh. It wasn’t even a lie really, more of a deferred truth. He had attempted such a potion a year ago and that was exactly the outcome. It had been a truly humbling – and painful – experience, but he had eventually created a potion that could grow a small forest on the spot.

He had been celebrating it in Hogsmeade when Evan and Barty saw him kissing a local boy. A boy whose name he had never learned.

‘That’s really cool, mate. Fair fucks to you.’ Sirius squeezed his shoulder.

Despite everything, Regulus felt a surge of pride at these words.

Eventually Sirius brought him to the Room of Requirement and, with a promise to bring the others by in the morning so that they could all go to breakfast together, left him to sleep.

Relieved to be alone at last, Regulus stumbled inside and locked the door with a half-hearted wave of his wand. The bed seemed much closer than normal, as it was suddenly in front of him, and later he would realise that the room itself had brought the bed to him, but in that moment he knew nothing.

The darkness had swallowed him whole.

Chapter Text

James had been standing outside the Room of Requirement for the better part of an hour when at last Regulus opened the door. The sight of him hit James like a train – and for more reasons than one. He was, as ever, dashingly handsome with his hair a mess, swept in front of his eyes like he was allergic to a comb, his clothes rumpled and tie loose. But he was perspiring, too, which was unusual for seven in the morning and he had gone beyond pale and now looked like an imitation ghost.

‘Oh,’ he grunted. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ James gestured to the room behind him. ‘Can we talk?’

‘I’m late for breakfast.’

‘I’ll be quick. Please.’

‘Fine.’

Hardly the enthusiastic welcome he’d have preferred, but James would take any chance he got.

Slipping by Regulus into the room, the speech he wanted to give already forming in his mind, James stopped dead at the sight of a pile of bloodstained bandages in the rubbish bin beside the bed.

He pivoted back to face Regulus, worst suspicions seemingly confirmed. ‘What did they do?’ he demanded, rage rising. He knew there’d been no potions mishap.

‘Nothing, Potter.’

‘That’s not nothing, Black. What did they do? Let me see.’

‘I’m fine. Really.’

James appraised him critically. What he saw served only to make him murderous. ‘You’re bleeding through your shirt.’

Regulus glanced down and cursed quietly, shoulders slumping in defeat.

With a wave of his wand and a murmured spell, James vanished the blood from his shirt, and then stepped closer. ‘I thought we were past this, little fox. I thought we were friends.’

‘We’re … friends.’ Regulus sounded like he was taking the word out for a walk and wasn’t sure he was going to keep using it in future.

‘Friends don’t lie to each other.’

‘They don’t barge into each other’s rooms at seven o’clock in the morning, either.’

‘Oh, they absolutely do. That’s exactly what friends do.’ James put his wand away and crossed his arms. He worried less about Regulus when they were bickering with each other, but in truth he didn’t want to bicker at all. He didn’t like arguing with his friends in general, but of late it bothered him even more where it concerned Regulus.

‘I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours.’

If it had been his own secret, James would have spilled the beans then and there. But it wasn’t his secret. And knowing it could get Remus expelled. Knowing it could get the Lupins arrested. Knowing it could, once he was of age, get Regulus arrested, too. Harbouring a werewolf in a world that viewed them as mindless, dangerous beasts was a lifelong promise that never got any easier.

Regulus let out a humourless noise. ‘Didn’t think so.’

‘Regulus …’

‘It’s fine. I get it. Let’s just go.’ Regulus nodded pointedly at the door. ‘After you.’

They walked to the Great Hall in silence, the tension so thick it felt like an invisible third person had wormed their way between them. James hated it. He had gone to the Room of Requirement to mend things with Regulus, not worsen them.

When they arrived in the hall minutes later and made for the Gryffindor table, Regulus claimed the seat beside Remus, who eyed him with concern. Remus, too, wore the weekend’s events heavily and there were deep circles under his eyes, only adding to his generally haunted appearance.

‘You all right?’ he asked Regulus.

Regulus summoned a smile. ‘I’m fine. Potions accident.’

James covered his scoff in a mouthful of toast.

‘Sirius said you’re working on a new potion? Forests or something.’

Regulus reached into his robes’ pocket – wincing visibly – and pulled out a phial. He passed it to Remus. ‘Throw it and say erbier groyenartum.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yep.’

Remus had a sudden air of schoolboy mischief. ‘Can we test it?’

Regulus’ smile did not reach his eyes and James wanted to protest on his behalf, but seconds later Regulus was following Remus out of the Great Hall and he didn’t have the chance. It seemed that neither Black brother could deny Remus anything.

‘Wait, what’s happening?’ asked Sirius, having been focused on his plate of crêpes and missed the entire conversation.

‘Fuck sake,’ muttered James, seizing three slices of toast and jogging out of the Great Hall after Remus and Regulus.

‘Oi!’ Sirius cried after him. ‘What’s going on?’

The morning was rainy and James had to shovel the toast into his mouth to keep it from getting wet, leaving him in a thoroughly putout mood. But his desire to tell the pair of them off vanished when Regulus gestured that they were far enough away from the castle for Remus to test it.

Remus chucked the bottle on the ground with a satisfying crunch, sending the dark green liquid it contained everywhere. ‘Erbier groyenartum,’ he said clearly.

From where the bottle had smashed, vines and grasses began to form, quickly doubling, then tripling in size. The boys had to step back to keep from having their boots consumed by roots and undergrowth. The magical growth stilled after a few more seconds, leaving a garden before them where previously there’d been only field.

‘Blimey,’ said Hagrid, having caught the end of the enchantment. ‘You make that, Remus?’

‘Regulus did.’ Remus shook his head, marvelling at the sight. ‘Regulus, this is wonderful.’

‘First time I tried it, it punched me in the stomach,’ said Regulus. ‘It’s not that impressive.’

James frowned. A protest rose to his lips, but he swallowed it when Remus spoke first.

‘This is very impressive,’ said Remus, and Hagrid echoed his praise. ‘Really, Regulus. You could sell this and do some real good.’

‘Or I could just give it away.’ Regulus shrugged. ‘People could just make it in their homes.’

It was little moments like this, James realised. You learned a lot about a person from their little moments and he was collecting Regulus’ moments like good luck charms to carry with him.

They left Hagrid to examine Regulus’ creation and headed back inside. James fell in beside him, his hand rising worriedly to the base of Regulus’ back, ready to catch him if he collapsed. Which, given the wheeze in his breath and the sweat dripping down the side of his face, seemed imminent.

Much to James’ annoyance, Regulus insisted on going to class and stilled in front of the Transfiguration room when they reached it. He looked like he had a bad fever and his hand was trembling at his side, but remained resolute.

Gripped by concern, James lingered. ‘Promise me you’ll go to Pomfrey if you get too sick?’

‘I promise. Stop worrying about me.’

As if that were somehow still an option.

‘I’ll see you after class.’

‘I have Quidditch practice.’

‘You have to be joking. Look at you.’

Regulus shrugged and slipped into the classroom before James could protest. And when he returned to the Transfiguration classroom an hour later after he was released from his own class, Regulus had already gone.

How Regulus made it through his classes that day, he’d never know. The wounds had not stopped bleeding and he’d had to clean his shirt with his wand seventeen times by day’s end. Each spell took a little more out of him and the results were less impressive every time. He knew he also reeked of copper and sweat.

Opting to skip dinner, Regulus stumbled up to the seventh floor and into the Room of Requirement. He trudged over to the bed, discarding his bag, boots, cloak and shirt, and collapsed onto the bed.

He was lost to the waking world in seconds.

There was no sign of Regulus at dinner and James was quickly transitioning from worried to annoyed to frustrated beyond belief. Yes, he was crap at lying, but it was three nights of one weekend. Surely Regulus should forgive him for that?

‘He can’t still be mad,’ agreed Sirius when James voiced his frustration.

‘I think he feels excluded,’ said Remus, whose eyelids drooped ever-so, a clear sign that he needed to be in bed. Hours ago.

‘Yeah, you’re probably right,’ said Sirius.

Something squeezed inside James’ chest. He tried not to immediately assume the worst and panic. Regulus had promised him that if he felt truly low again, he would come to James. He had promised. But that was before Sirius and James had ditched him all weekend and lied about it. That was before something happened that caused him to leave bloodstained bandages in his room.

‘This is bollocks,’ he announced, setting his fork down beside the uneaten serving of lasagne and garlic bread that normally tempted him to third or fourth helpings and getting to his feet.

‘Careful, Prongs,’ said Sirius, ripping the crust off a hunk of bread with his teeth and sending crumbs everywhere with each word. ‘The only person more stubborn than I, is my brother.’

‘We’ll see.’

On his way out of the Great Hall, Sir Nicholas the ghost waved to him. He waved back, but didn’t stop to talk.

James had come up with a dozen arguments for why Regulus was being unfair over one weekend, but the words died on his lips when Regulus opened the door to the Room of Requirement, hair wet from sweat and eyes so bloodshot it looked like someone had poured lemon juice directly into them.

‘What the fuck?’ James stared at him. ‘You look terrible.’

Regulus somehow managed a scoff. ‘Cheers, Potter.’

‘What happened? And don’t say “potions accident” again or I swear I will lose my shit.’

Exhaling a put upon groan, Regulus stepped aside and gestured for him to come inside. His shirt, James noticed, was once again stained with blood.

James cursed under his breath. ‘Let me see. I mean it.’

Regulus didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop James from unbuttoning his shirt and gently opening the fabric.

‘What. The. Fuck.’

Regulus caught his wrist before he could touch the bandages.

‘Did the—’

‘It wasn’t a student.’

‘Then—’

‘It was …’ Regulus took a shuddering breath. ‘It was a dog, all right? A dog in Hogsmeade.’

James suddenly felt very, very off kilter. ‘A … dog?’ It took all his strength to hold in the sob of fear. ‘Were—’ He swallowed hard. ‘—were you bit?’

‘No.’

James almost vomited as relief surged through him. ‘Can I see?’

‘It’s nasty.’

‘Let me see. Please. I can help.’

Regulus sighed. ‘Fine. Just don’t touch.’

With a tight smile and murmured spell, James waved his wand at the bandages, which unravelled themselves before rewrapping and gliding neatly to the bed. James stared at his chest in horror. No, it was no dog. He knew what dog wounds looked like and this was not a dog wound. Dogs had paws and nails, they did not have razor sharp claws.

This was Remus.

‘A dog?’ he repeated, wondering why Regulus was lying. Surely Regulus had not deduced who the werewolf was? Had he?

But Regulus simply said, ‘Big dog.’

James eyed him. ‘You know I know you’re lying, right?’ Why he said that, was a question he’d be mulling over for the next month.

‘I don’t really care.’

‘You’re angry with me.’

‘No.’

‘Stop lying.’

‘You first.’

They glared at each other.

‘You know what hurts, James?’ Regulus let out a humourless laugh. ‘That Severus Snape knows the truth and I don’t.’

A very dark, very ill thing awoke inside James’ soul as he realised then what had happened. Who had happened. He sounded like someone else entirely when he cleared his throat and croaked, ‘Snape told you to follow us.’

‘Very good,’ said Regulus, incongruously cold.

‘To?’

Regulus widened his bloodshot eyes mockingly. ‘The Whomping Willow.’

Yes, James was going to have a panic attack. His hands went to his head. ‘And …’

Regulus pointed to his chest. ‘Whatever you know, whatever you’re hiding – whomever – Severus knows and he’s willing to get someone killed to get back at you.’

‘Are – are you going to tell?’

‘Tell what? I don’t even know who it is! And even if I did, I wouldn’t. Unlike the rest of this world, I actually give a shit about creatures other than myself. So fucking what if there’s a werewolf running around? They have as much right to live as dragons and mermaids and house elves and centaurs and all the others this world deems less.’

‘Then …’ James was totally lost. ‘Then why are you so angry with me if you understand?’

‘I’m not angry, Potter. I’m …’

‘What?’ James stepped closer. ‘Tell me.’

Regulus’ jaw visibly worked and his hands flexed open and closed as he sorted through whatever was eating at him. At last, he said, ‘It’s Sirius who treats house elves as subservient. It’s Sirius who uses slurs he apparently doesn’t agree with. It’s Sirius who doesn’t think. Why am I always left out? Why am I so much less … wanted? Because I’m in Slytherin? How is that fair? It’s just a House.’

James closed what remained of the space between them, his hands coming up to cradle Regulus’ face. ‘I want you around. We want you around. We weren’t trying to exclude you – and fuck I never wanted you to get hurt.’

Regulus pulled away. ‘It’s fine, Potter. It’s not like we’re actually a couple.’

And oh, that hurt.

‘Did you know there’s a werewolf in our family?’

‘No. Sirius never—’

‘Sirius doesn’t know. I know. I had Kreacher sell family heirlooms to help them leave the country. To this day our family all think they’re a recluse studying dragons in the mountains. And no one knows. So I can keep a secret. If that’s what you’ve been worrying about.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘I’m not a Death Eater.’

‘I know that.’

They stared at each other, uncertainty radiating from both sides.

‘Can I help?’ James gestured to the ruined flesh that was his torso. ‘I’ve treated werewolf wounds before. You need special ingredients or it’ll take months.’

‘I’ve been pilfering Slughorn’s but I’m too tired to do more research.’

Taking this as a sign of permission, James steered Regulus over to the bed, rattling off ingredients he’d need to gather in Hogsmeade or send a letter home for.

Regulus eyed him for a second before, with a wheezing-sigh, calling out, ‘Kreacher.’

With a loud crack, a house elf appeared on the bed. James jumped.

‘Hi, Kreach,’ said Regulus tiredly, but with evident affection. ‘Can you possibly get me a few things?’

‘Of course, Master Regulus.’

Regulus grinned weakly at him. ‘You’re my hero. Thank you. James here will tell you.’ Regulus cocked his head to James, who repeated the list.

Kreacher clapped his hands together when James finished and bobbed his head. ‘Kreacher will be back, sirs. We have all those items in the house!’

Regulus extended a shaking hand and gently squeezed Kreacher’s much smaller hand. ‘Thank you.’

It was another little moment that left James marvelling at Regulus. For a wizard who respected non-human magical beings was sadly unusual, but a wizard who loved them, who treated them as equals, was altogether rare. It wasn’t just that no Death Eater or follower of Lord Voldemort would ever do such a thing – most witches and wizards wouldn’t think twice to, sad and sickening as James knew that was.

Regulus wasn’t just quietly, astoundingly cunning. Regulus was also innately kind.

When James left the Room of Requirement hours later, Kreacher volunteered to linger for a few hours to keep an eye on the now sleeping Regulus. The potion and paste James had spent the evening making were tried and true concoctions from years of the Marauders getting into scuffles with Moony before he’d mellowed out in the last two years. It had taken a few attempts, but James had perfected a few rarer remedies for werewolf injuries (other than, of course, a bite).

He paused at the door and glanced back at Kreacher, who was sitting in the chair beside the bed, watching over Regulus like a father. ‘Thank you,’ he called back. ‘I can see why you mean the world to him, Kreacher.’

Kreacher looked over, and he seemed to almost be smiling. Almost. ‘Thank you, Mr Potter. I’m glad he’s found a good friend at last.’

‘James.’

‘Thank you, Mr James.’

James laughed. ‘Goodnight, then, Mr Kreacher.’

Kreacher bowed his head before returning his attention to Regulus.

James longed to stay the night, but Regulus was out for a while yet and he was too furious to sit still. Had been fighting down his fury since Regulus had given context to the night’s events that James could not have imagined possible.

Severus Snape had told Regulus about the tree. Had sent him straight towards a fully grown werewolf.

James headed first to his room, bypassing the others in the common room with a wave of his hand and a call of, ‘Later - prefect shit.’

In his dorm, he went straight for his trunk and squatted down. It took a moment’s rooting around in its depths to find the black bottle he had stowed away for pranks (he had learned how to plan ahead after years of pranking with Sirius and had several potions with assorted purposes on hand at any given moment). He shook it and the liquid inside crackled with magic. Still good, then. He drew out his current notebook next. A quick glance at the pages full of scribbled ideas on how to prank the Slytherins was all it took to remind himself of the exact wording of the spell he and Sirius had perfected in recent weeks.

Tucking the bottle into his pocket, he then snatched up his magical map and invisibility cloak, and set off for the dungeons.

It took almost an hour of waiting in the corridor under his invisibility cloak, but at last the common room opened, two prefects leaving to patrol the corridors.

He slipped in past them.

Finding his way to the sixth year dorms was not difficult. Unlike the girls’ dormitory in Gryffindor House, there were no charms keeping anyone out. (James often wondered if there were charms upon his own dorm, but hadn’t ever seen any enacted. It was only when he was trying to woo Lily Evans that he learned about the ones upon the girls’ rooms.)

Inside the sixth year dorm at the end of the hall, James found Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch, Jr alone. The Slytherin boys were sitting in chairs in the far corner of the dorm room, heads bent over their assignments. In shades of black and green, the boys looked even paler than usual and James wondered absently if it was a Slytherin affliction that came from living in the dungeons. It couldn’t be good for them.

He moved closer, anger at what they’d done to Regulus making him senseless. When he was only a few paces away, the mashup hex he and Sirius had been working on for weeks left James’ wand before he had fully thought it through.

He watched, invisible, as the hex took hold.

Evan sat forward abruptly. He made a face, pursed his lips, and then said, ‘I don’t like the Dark Lord.’

James’ eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Barty stared at him, eyes narrowed. ‘What?’

Evan did a double take, bewildered by his own admission.

‘Why would you say that?’ Barty got out of his chair. He had never been scarier to James than he was in that moment. Barty Crouch, Jr. reminded James of a basilisk on the best of days. He was sharp angles and cut glances and hissed words, and desirous of a darkness that left James deeply unsettled even though he was older than Barty. But the look on his face now blew past all previous impressions and frightened him. To his core.

Evan stared at him. ‘I – I—’

And then, with an abruptness that threatened whiplash, the rage fled Barty’s eyes and he said, ‘I’m in love with Bellatrix.’

The horrified Evan was clearly anything but prepared for this segue and was having as much trouble keeping up. ‘What?’

‘She’s amazing,’ said Barty, marvelling. ‘She’s going to become the Dark Lord’s righthand captain and she’s incredible.’

‘She’s, like, old.’ Evan’s nose wrinkled.

Barty rolled his eyes. ‘She’s in her twenties.’

‘Exactly. Old.’

The boys stared at each other, both confused by the secrets they had just shared. It seemed like the end of the hex. And then—

‘I’m in love with Regulus.’

Nothing could have prepared James for that. ‘What?’ he mouthed, astonished.

‘What?’ hissed Barty, eyes narrowing. He stepped closer to Evan. ‘What did you say?’

‘I love him,’ said Evan flatly, the hex compelling the words from his lips. ‘We treat him like shit because that’s what everyone expects us to do. That’s what everyone expects me to do. But I don’t hate him. I fucking hate myself. And I fucking hate you. But I don’t hate him. I’m tired of pretending I do.’ The second he finished, he clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified by his confession. ‘Barty, wait, no—’

Barty’s hand curled into a fist, mouth twisted – and James raised his wand, ready to stun him – when Barty stilled, frowned, and said, ‘I’m afraid of my father.’

James was long past deeply regretting this hex. Murmuring the countercurse, he stepped back out of the dormitory, pausing only to snatch up Barty’s comb from the bed side table, as the two boys stood stiffly, staring at each other uncertainly, neither ready to confront the secrets that had just been revealed.

How he felt about what he’d just done was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever reconcile with himself.

He stole out of Slytherin House and crept through the halls, one eye on the map. When he was close, he put one of Barty’s hairs into the bottle and shook it. Then, downing the lot – and gagging – he removed his cloak and stowed it into his bag.

By the time he found Snape, he was Barty Crouch, Jr. in all but voice, though this did not worry him in the least. He’d been doing impressions of the Slytherins for years. He could mimic Barty.

Snape was bent over a cauldron when James found him. He looked up, steam from the bubbling brew giving his skin a light sheen.

‘Hiya, Barty,’ he greeted, unbothered. ‘Why are you out so late?’

‘Was looking for Evan.’

‘Think he’s in the common room, no?’

‘Didn’t see him. Need to finish something.’

‘Essay?’

‘Bit of Defence Against the Dark Arts, bit of Care of Magical Creatures, actually.’

‘What—’

‘Expelliarmus!’

Snape was still caught off guard by the loss of his wand when James got the first punch in. He hit him squarely in the jaw, flooring him. The crunching sound of bone on bone soothed something feral deep inside his heart. Something he did not like to acknowledge.

Bending down and seizing him by his collar, James heaved Snape up to his feet and slammed him back against the wall, hand closing around his throat. ‘You’re lucky if I don’t fucking kill you,’ he snarled as he punched Snape again, this time in the gut.

Snape kneed him hard, bruising his leg, and got a solid hit to his chest before James retaliated by punching him in the ribs. And then the jaw.

Images of Regulus dead, bitten or torn to shreds flashed through his mind like a horror reel and he hit Snape again and again, not even feeling the hits Snape doled out in return.

His fists were a red mess, blood pouring from his nose, when James stumbled back several steps, fearing what would happen if he did not. Fearing he would do irreversible damage.

Snape remained bent over, just as ruined, gasping for breath. ‘You’re not Barty,’ he rasped, blood flying from his lips. It sounded like he had a punctured lung.

‘No. I’m your worst fucking nightmare. Depulso!’

The spell sent Snape back into the wall, hard, and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Chest heaving, James turned away from Snape’s prone form and walked out of the dungeons wearing Barty’s face. He felt numb with horror and his chest would not stop shaking with anxious adrenaline - but it was not what he had just done that horrified him most, although he knew he had gone too far. No, what horrified him most was that he knew he would do it again.

Chapter Text

It took most of the rest of the month for the werewolf wounds to stop bleeding and finally scab over. James’ advice on potions, balms and tonics had proved beyond helpful and slowly, painfully, his body fought off the infection. After a fortnight, Regulus only had to change the bandages once a day and he’d shaken off the fever. But in the midst of keeping secrets and hiding scars, life in Hogwarts carried on much as it ever had. The first Slytherin Quidditch match of the season came and went, pitting them against Hufflepuff. Regulus spent the majority of the game flying high above the other players and trying not to visibly wince every time he had to bend down. He caught the snitch and won the game for Slytherin, but in doing so ripped one of the wounds and James spent the rest of that afternoon alternating between congratulating him on the game and chastising him for not taking care of himself.

By the time the month was winding down, Regulus felt almost like himself again. He hadn’t asked James about the werewolf’s identity, although he had a number of guesses he mulled over from time to time. He did, however, voice his concern about the safety of running around the forest in the dark with one.

‘Would you trust me if I said we were safe and in no danger of being bitten?’ said James one afternoon a few nights before the next full moon as they sat by the lake finishing their homework.

Across the field, Remus and Sirius were kicking a ball back and forth with Peter, Frank and Arthur, who was obsessed with Muggle football. Regulus and James had been on their own completing their essays for the better part of an hour.

‘Safe how?’

‘It’s …’

‘A secret.’ Regulus rolled his eyes. ‘You know that offering me that means you forfeit any and all future protestations you might have regarding my own assurances of my safety.’

‘Ah, no,’ said James flatly. ‘I’ve been keeping this secret for years and have never once been hurt. You’ve spent more of this year sick, or injured, than healthy.’

‘None of those were my fault, I’ll have you know.’

‘Yes but I’ve had more reasons to worry than you. So I’ve got stress-credits.’

‘Stress-credits?’ Despite himself, Regulus’ lips twitched fondly.

‘Yes.’ James huffed. ‘I get to stress you out for a bit. That’s the code.’

‘I need a copy of this—’

A ball smacked Regulus in the side of the face, cutting him off and sending a dull throb through his skull. James caught the ball and lobbed it in the opposite direction as Sirius sprinted over shouting his apologies and blaming it on Peter.

Regulus rubbed the side of his face. ‘Wanker.’

‘You all right?’

‘Fine. Sirius just has crap aim.’

James grimaced in sympathy. ‘I think that is our signal to give up on studying, little fox.’

‘I think you’re right.’

‘Are you coming tonight?’ James asked as they gathered their things back into their bags. ‘To the party.’

‘I’m not much of a partier.’ Regulus honestly couldn’t think of anything he’d rather spend his evening doing less.

‘Come on, you have to come. At least for a little while.’

‘Yeah,’ said Sirius, having reached them, panting. ‘Besides, it’s almost my birthday. It’ll be like a pre-birthday celebration.’

‘Which means you’re going to get absolutely locked,’ said Peter, dropping down beside them. ‘And you’ll spend the whole next day gagging.’

‘That, my darling, is the reason for hangover potions.’

James sniggered.

‘You should come,’ Remus said to Regulus.

‘Please,’ added James, holding out his hand and hauling Regulus to his feet. Even after steadying him, he did not let go straight away. ‘I want you there.’

Regulus groaned petulantly, but found himself agreeing, much to the Marauders’ delight. While James could likely have convinced him to try anything, classes had been going better in recent weeks and the bullying had largely stopped, so it likely wouldn’t be terrible and would, in fact, probably help. (Although, if Regulus had his way, he would opt out of all parties always, much preferring the company of a close few to many acquaintances.)

The Gryffindors’ Hallowe’en party (not held on Hallowe’en, but a few days in advance) was open to all the students, but as ever, the bulk of the Slytherins did not make an appearance. And yet to Regulus’ surprise, five minutes into the party, he did spot another Slytherin.

Sven Nott, the handsome seventh year he knew Remus had snogged at one point, had evidently arrived with an aim: as soon as he caught sight of Remus, Sven made a beeline for him. Upon reaching his side, Sven whispered something into his ear. Regulus saw Remus turn, nod, and the pair went to a window seat and sat down, their heads close together. They made a striking couple, if Regulus was being honest.

Grabbing a drink, he sat down on the sofa in the far corner, away from the dancing bodies and the impending likelihood of having a drink spilled on him, and took in the party with a critical, unenthusiastic eye. Definitely not his scene. He saw no sign of his brother or James, but had no desire to dig through the crowd to find them.

A ghostly figure suddenly drew out of the cushions beside him, claiming the other seat. It was the Bloody Baron in all his ruined finery. He spoke even less than the Grey Lady, but his company was pleasant enough. Often he shadowed the Grey Lady’s visits - at times it seemed almost as if he worried about her, although that was pure conjecture.

‘Were parties this appalling in your day?’

A small twitch of his lips.

‘Reg!’ Sirius had appeared as if pulled out of a hat like a rabbit. He was dressed as a pirate, with thick eye-liner on one eye, an eye-patch covering the other. He had a bottle of whiskey in hand and judging by the energy he exuded, he had had quite a lot already. ‘Why are you all by your lonesome?’

Regulus gestured to the Baron. ‘I’m not alone. I’m catching up with Barry.’

The Bloody Baron coughed a laugh at this and Regulus grinned triumphantly. He’d scored three laughs out of the Baron in the last six years. This made for number four.

Sirius winked at the Baron. ‘Either of you seen Remus? I can’t find him.’

‘Think Sven’s trying to get back together with him.’ Regulus nodded to the far corner where Sven and Remus sat. Sven’s arm was around him and he was murmuring something into his ear.

Sirius’ face darkened with anger. Regulus tried not to let it bother him and passed no comment. But in truth it did bother him. In recent weeks, Sirius had gone from saying, ‘All Slytherins are bad,’ which was his original mantra upon starting Hogwarts, to, ‘Slytherins are bad, but I don’t count you amongst them,’ which was not as flattering to Regulus as his brother seemed to think.

‘I need another drink,’ said Sirius furiously.

‘Figures,’ muttered Regulus when he’d vanished into the crowd.

The Bloody Baron looked at him, but passed no comment.

He watched as his brother went to flirt with Mary, whose green eyes lit up as they bantered with each other. Like Sven and Remus, they did make for a nice couple, although Regulus doubted Sirius wanted something, well, serious. He never had. Rather impressively, it was only mere minutes later when the pair was snogging passionately against the wall. It should be studied, honestly - how quickly his brother managed to charm girls.

A sharp twinge suddenly jolted through his chest and he hissed, clenching his jaw. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the werewolf wounds or being hit multiple times by an Unforgiveable, but it kept happening. Like being electrocuted from the inside.

Almost instinctively, he searched the crowd for James. Yet the moment he finally caught sight of him, he regretted it. James and Lily were dancing, their arms around each other, their heads close together.

The jealousy came unwanted and unbidden and left a sour taste in his mouth.

It was a fool’s jealousy, he had no illusions about that. He’d told James he knew about his feelings for Lily. The whole school knew. He wouldn’t be surprised if James had told her the truth of their ruse. Nor had Regulus missed how much closer she and James had been of late, especially compared with what he’d seen the year before. Gone were the sarcastic comments and downright mean barbs. If anything, his fake relationship with Regulus had given James a chance to be a real friend to Lily. And Regulus knew from experience, such things could easily lead to feelings.

He watched them for several minutes, stewing in jealousy. Then James brushed her hair back from her ear and said something to her, and Regulus decided that was enough of that. There was being tortured and there was doing it to yourself and he was not much of a masochist.

Downing his drink, he bade the Baron goodnight and walked out of the chamber. A few students sat on the steps as he descended the winding stairs, but the bottom of the tower let out into a hall that was entirely deserted. Save one.

‘Thought you were snogging Nott,’ he said, walking over to where Remus sat, eyes on the ground, hair obscuring his features. He had a drink in one hand, a joint in the other.

Putting the joint to his lips, Remus inhaled sharply before holding it out to Regulus. He did not look up. ‘Don’t like Nott,’ he grunted.

‘Oh?’ Regulus blew a cloud of smoke up at the window. ‘I thought you made a handsome couple.’

‘He’s just horny and out of ideas.’

Regulus snorted. ‘So if it’s not Nott – ha – who’s got you out here, what is it?’

Remus held out his hand for the joint, still not raising his head, and Regulus passed it back. For several moments silence reigned while he smoked and Regulus waited. Finally Remus looked at him. In the pale light of the nearly full moon, his normally blue eyes looked wolfish.

They were nearly … yellow.

The realisation struck Regulus, but it was like an ‘… oh’ moment, rather than an ‘OH FUCK!’ because it made complete sense. Because honestly, Regulus felt a little stupid that he was only just figuring it now. The Marauders were not even trying to hide it in their nickname for him.

Severus hadn’t just set him up that night, he’d set up Remus, too.

Hatred flared violently inside him, spreading through his chest the way ink stains a surface, and Regulus held his hand out for the bottle. It was that or go do something profoundly stupid.

‘The person I like is snogging someone,’ said Remus at last, drawing his attention back to the question he’d actually asked. ‘You?’

The image of James dancing with Lily flashed in his mind and his lip curled. ‘The person I like is in love with someone else and doesn’t like blokes, so.’

‘Ah.’

‘Yup.’

‘That’s shit, mate.’

Nodding, Regulus chugged several mouthfuls of the harsh liquor before passing it back to Remus. They shared dark, bitter laughs.

‘Sometimes I can’t wait to leave Hogwarts,’ Remus confided after they finished the bottle. ‘And sometimes the thought of leaving makes me want to tear my skin off.’

‘A man who gets me.’ Regulus put a hand on his heart dramatically. ‘I thought I was the only one who hated this place at times. But I love it more. It’s a safe place – as a home should be – but it’s filled with so much ...’ He waved his hands.

‘Exactly.’

Regulus eyed him curiously. ‘Who do you fancy?’

‘Who do you?’ Remus raked his fingers through his brown hair and clenched his jaw. ‘I’m sitting here for both our sakes. The urge to cause a scene is strong and I’m not feeling particularly reasonable tonight. All I want to do right now is make bad decisions. So I’m going to sit here and pretend the sight of them together doesn’t make me want to kill something.’

Regulus thought for a minute. Then, ‘We could make bad decisions together.’

Remus looked sharply at him. There was something almost feral in his expression and he eyed Regulus hungrily for a second before taking his face in both hands and soundly kissing him. No, kissing was not the word. Remus seemed to devour him. He pulled Regulus onto his lap, deepening the kiss. His hands slipped under Regulus’ shirt and settled on his hips. He tugged him close, pressing their bodies together and eliciting a gasp from Regulus.

Remus laughed a wicked laugh against his lips. He pressed another kiss to his lips before stilling, their faces close together, their breath shared. ‘You sure you’re not too drunk?’

‘No. I’m perfectly sober enough to make bad decisions.’

‘Excellent.’

And then Remus was kissing him again – and Regulus imagined he was James. Imagined James was the one threading fingers through his hair. Imagined James was the one moaning hungrily into his mouth.

They were too drunk, too bitter, too lonely. But there was something darkly comforting about Remus, about sharing in that loneliness, and Regulus wanted to lose himself in that moment.

‘My, isn’t this cosy.’

They broke apart, panting, and scrambled to their feet.

It was Severus Snape.

Regulus didn’t realise he’d reached for his wand until he’d raised it. ‘Ten seconds, Severus, or I lose my patience entirely.’

‘What are you going to do, Black? Beat me up again?’

‘I didn’t beat you up.’

‘Sure.’

‘I mean, I can. If you’d like?’

‘Unlikely.’

Regulus laughed, low and dark, and then flicked his wand downwards. ‘Aufereto.’

The force of the blast sent Severus, in a tangle of robes and limbs, into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. Regulus stumbled forward as he lowered his wand, still a bit drunk, and Severus was on his feet and firing back before he’d righted himself.

Severus’ spell sent Regulus flying down the corridor where he landed, hard, and slid across the cold stone floor. It wasn’t the most painful injury he had had in recent months, but it still hurt.

‘Fucking fuck!’ he groaned, wincing as he tried to stand.

Severus, who had followed him at run, shouted another curse at him before he was on his feet – this one Regulus deflected. Barely. He scrambled upright, out of breath but gathering his composure quickly enough as sobriety forced its way into his mind.

‘Lads, stop!’ Remus’ call echoed around the corridor, but both Severus and Regulus ignored it.

‘Expelliarmus!’

‘Stupefy!’

The two spells clashed mid-air and pain splintered up Regulus’ arm from the impact. The occupants of the paintings on the walls around them shouted out in protest as the force from the magic rattled their frames.

‘Sectumsempra!’

‘Protego!’

This time, the collision of the spells sent them both to their knees and knocked a few portraits to the floor. They glared at each other, gasping and sweating.

And then Severus bolted.

Regulus shot after him.

They reached the main staircases and Severus, who had longer legs, easily out paced him as they descended through the castle, but as Regulus raced onto the next footbridge, the landing below him moved. Vaulting over the railing without fully thinking it through, he hit the floor a level down and directly in front of Severus.

The force of the fall almost made him buckle, but he managed to stay upright. He raised his wand.

‘You think you’re funny doing what you did?’

‘What did I do, Black? Be specific.’

‘There is actually something truly wrong with you.’

This insult meant nothing to Severus, who shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I thought I could rid Hogwarts of two degenerates in one night. But it seems life has other plans for you. I’ve told them, you know? About his little … affliction.’

Regulus did not need to ask who ‘them’ was and his heart plummeted.

‘Your rebellion is concerning to many, Regulus. You know too much. You’ve seen too much. So he’s sending someone to speak to you this weekend and asked me to relay the invitation. I’d be convincing if I were you.’

Regulus forced a snort of derision, but internally his fear spiked. ‘I’m not going to meet some random emissary in the middle of nowhere, Severus. For all I know, you’re setting me up and he knows nothing about what you’re doing.’

‘You’ll go, Black. If you want Lupin’s parents to stay out of Azkaban. If you want to keep him in school.’

Regulus stared at Severus, who was leering triumphantly at his victory. Because he had won. And they both knew it.

‘Oi! What’s going on here?’

Filch had found them.

‘Nothing,’ said Severus, putting away his wand.

Heart thudding, Regulus walked towards Severus, who was blocking his exit. As he passed by, he hissed, ‘One day, Severus, you’re going to regret this.’

Severus smirked.

When Regulus rounded the corner, he had to pause and take several breaths to keep from collapsing. But the rising panic made it difficult to breathe in properly and he had to battle down the urge to get sick, too.

When he had calmed down enough to carry on, Regulus made his way to the seventh floor. He was in no mood to return to the party and his head was spinning with fear.

Remus was pacing the corridor outside of the Room of Requirement when he rounded the corner.

‘Regulus.’ Remus hurried over to him. ‘What happened? Are you all right?’

‘Nothing happened,’ he lied. ‘Severus is more bite than bark. What can he threaten me with? My parents already know I’m gay.’

‘Why hex him?’

‘I’ve been wanting to.’

Remus visibly deflated.

Regulus put his hands on Remus’ shoulders and forced himself to adopt a bracing smile. ‘Don’t worry about Severus. Don’t worry about anyone. He wants to be the big man on campus, but he’s not. He’s just a pathetic git.’

‘I don’t want things to get harder for you.’

‘You don’t need to worry about me.’

‘But I do.’

‘Well, likewise.’ Regulus brushed Remus’ cheek affectionately before dropping his hands. ‘You should head back to the common room. Sleep the night off.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, good idea.’ Remus squeezed his arm. ‘Merlin, what a night.’

‘It escalated rather fast.’

‘You can say that again.’ Smiling tiredly, Remus leaned in and kissed his cheek. ‘You were a very good bad decision. I don’t think we should do this again, however.’

‘No.’ Tilting his head to the side, Regulus smiled at him. Part of him wished he was in love with Remus. They’d fit well together and Remus was inarguably the most attractive bloke in their school after James. But hot as he was, and as much fun as it would undoubtedly be to romance a werewolf who got possessive around the full moon, he didn’t love him. And Remus felt the same. Still, decidedly fond, he added, ‘For what it’s worth – whomever they are, they’re missing out. My skin is still on fire from that kiss.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Definitely.’

Remus barked out a wolfish laugh. ‘Sweet dreams, little star.’

Regulus grinned. ‘You know, you can tell James I like that more than his versions.’

‘Oh, I definitely will.’ Remus winked at him, eyes still remarkably wolfish, and left, still smiling and far more chipper than he’d been when their paths first crossed in the tower earlier that night.

When he’d disappeared around the corner, Regulus headed into the Room of Requirement and closed the door firmly.

In the quiet of the secret room, Severus’ words came back to him. He pressed his forehead against the door, eyes closing as the true horror of the night sank in.

You will if you want Lupin’s parents to stay out of Azkaban. If you want to keep him in school.

The protection promised to him by Dumbledore now felt a flimsy thing. For whilst Dumbledore could intervene between him and his parents, he knew without a doubt that Dumbledore could not save a family harbouring a werewolf. Severus had played the perfect card.

It was checkmate.

James thought Sirius had to be joking. Badly. That was the only explanation for the words that had just left his mouth.

‘Did you see them?’ he asked, disbelieving.

‘Mary did.’ Sirius had been sulking for the better part of half an hour since the party had finished and there’d been no sign of Regulus or Remus.

‘But that makes no sense.’ James secretly wondered, though, if it made complete sense and they were both being wilfully ignorant.

Before Sirius could respond, the portrait hole opened and Remus entered. He looked drunker than James had seen him in a while. He also looked thoroughly debauched.

Sirius’ lip curled. ‘How’s my brother?’

James wasn’t sure what held more venom: his tone or his expression.

Remus frowned, clearly lost. ‘Severus isn’t as good at cursing, so there’s that.’

‘What?’ asked Sirius, side-tracked.

‘What?’ asked James, fury blooming in the pit of his stomach.

Remus glanced from one to the other, still confused. ‘What?’

‘Snape went after Regulus?’ prompted James.

‘Technically, Regulus sent him into a wall first. It was rather glorious.’

‘Was this before or after you snogged him?’ snapped Sirius.

Remus sighed. ‘Are you actually angry with me? You were eating Mary’s face off. What do you care if Regulus does the same?’

‘Did you forget he’s dating Jamie?’

Remus laughed, bemused. ‘No, he’s not. And James was with Lily. The girl he loves. And Regulus was with me because he’s sad and single. As I am. We were having a moment.’

‘I’m going to be sick.’ Sirius put his fist to his mouth.

That made two of them.

‘I thought you didn’t mind that he liked blokes. That I like both.’

Sirius threw out his hands furiously. ‘That is so not the problem, Moony!’

‘Then what is the problem? For what it’s worth, he said I was good, so I left him quite happy.’

‘Oh my fuck.’

James inhaled sharply, stomach churning. Trying not to think about it, he returned to his primary concern. ‘What happened with Snape?’

‘I dunno. They went from scowling to sparring in three seconds flat. I think Severus thought Regulus had jumped him, but Regulus didn’t seem to know what he’s talking about.’

James’ hands went to his head. ‘That’s because I did it.’

Sirius and Remus rounded on him. ‘What?’

‘I beat him up.’

‘Why?’ Sirius made a face and then added, ‘Okay, not why. I get why. But why this time. Why didn’t you tell us?’

There was no way James was going to tell Remus that he’d attacked Regulus. He wasn’t sure Remus would be able to handle it. Or move on from it. So he said, ‘Severus roughed Regulus up and I got a bit tetchy. But I was wearing Crouch’s face so he doesn’t know.’

Sirius let out an astonished laugh. ‘Shit, Prongs. I’m impressed.’

‘I need to go talk to Regulus.’ James grabbed his book bag from the corner, which had the invisibility cloak inside.

‘I’m going to head to bed,’ said Remus. ‘I’m way too drunk.’

‘Is that why you kissed my brother?’ Sirius clearly had no intention of dropping the matter.

Remus groaned loudly. ‘Why. Do. You. Care.’

They glared at each other mutinously.

‘Merlin, you’re both so stupid,’ said James. ‘Instead of snarking at each other perhaps discuss why you’re both clearly jealous.’

He didn’t wait around to hear their reactions.

It was long after James departed the common room before either Sirius or Remus spoke. The tension was horrible. The last time they had been at odds was two years before, but that time it had been Sirius’ fault. This time, Remus knew it was his and he knew he had to fix it. But he feared speaking. Feared picking at a wound that had existed for years between them, unacknowledged but festering. Worsening.

At last he cleared his throat and asked, ‘Why would you be jealous?’

A wheezing noise of disbelief escaped Sirius. ‘Why do you think, Moony?’

Remus choked. Not from disgust. Not even from surprise. From sheer, utter want. Want, and mounting anguish. Because now there was no backtracking or burying. The unspoken thing between them was unmasked, front and centre. ‘Since – since when?’

‘Since always.’

‘And it never occurred to you to tell me?’

Sirius shrugged.

‘You can regale and serenade half the girls in this school but all I get is a shrug?’

‘I know you better than anyone. I’ve been in love with you since we were eleven years old, Remus. And I learned pretty quickly that the only way to be the most important person in your life was to never fall in love with you.’ Tears glistened in Sirius’ eyes.

Remus gaped at him, feeling both like he needed to defend himself and like he shouldn’t have to. But Sirius was right. Remus would never allow himself to have those things. Werewolves did not have the luxury others had. His future was over before it had begun. He could never marry or have children – legally. Werewolves were not allowed. It was a safety hazard. His family already risked Azkaban by not telling the Ministry about him.

Remus could never do that to anyone, let alone Sirius.

From the way Sirius nodded, tears falling, the confirmation was plain on his face.

Remus suddenly found it very hard to breathe. ‘You—’ He inhaled sharply. ‘You know that if I was ever going to be with anyone, it would be you? I’ve never loved anyone else. What happened tonight meant nothing. None of it ever means anything. The only one I want is you. But I can’t lose you, Sirius. I’d rather die. And no, I’m not exaggerating.’

Sirius smiled brokenly. ‘That’s just about the most heartbreaking thing you could have said, Moony. And the worst part is – I knew. Guess it was time to officially break my own heart.’

With a shake of his head, Sirius turned and disappeared up the stairs to the dormitory.

Remus sank into the nearest chair and dropped his head into his hands. Alone, in the dark of the room, he did not bother to stifle his sobs.

By the time James reached the seventh floor, having had to dodge Peeves, Filch and McGonagall on the way, he had yet to come up with what he wanted to say to Regulus. He wanted to say about eighty things at once and he had to keep reminding himself that drunk confessions often went poorly and required earnestness and sincerity, not yelling and accusations.

The door to the Room of Requirement shivered into place as he neared the bespelled section of the wall and James knocked once.

No answer.

His palm flattened against the door, heart clenching suddenly. What if Regulus didn’t answer?

‘Are you there?’ he called softly. ‘It’s me.’

Again no answer.

‘Please, little fox. I need to talk to you.’

After several agonising seconds, the door opened. Relieved, James slipped inside and closed the door.

Regulus sat in a chair on the other side of the room, twirling his wand slowly around his fingers, brow furrowed.

For some reason the first thing James said was, ‘You hexed Snape.’

‘I tried a couple of times. Only hit him once.’

‘Still.’

Regulus didn’t smile or laugh.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Why are you here, James?’

‘I …’ James shrugged. ‘I know you kissed Remus.’

Regulus’ fingers stilled and he deftly caught his wand. ‘And?’

‘And,’ he gritted out, ‘do you like him?’

‘We were commiserating.’

‘Over?’

‘Not getting what we want.’

James moved closer, not breaking eye contact. ‘Which is what?’

‘Impossible things.’ Regulus tilted his head to the side. ‘How was your night?’

‘We’re talking about your night.’

‘I’m sick of my night.’

‘Well, my night was uneventful.’

‘How’s Lily?’

And James liked that edge of jealousy in his tone.

He liked it quite a lot.

‘Lily is fine,’ he said neutrally.

‘Did you tell her this was all fake?’

‘No, why would I?’

‘It’s been going on long enough and I’m sure you don’t want the love of your life to think you’re a taken man.’

‘Lily isn’t the love of my life.’

‘Oh?’

‘She’s my first love. Not the love of my life.’

Regulus narrowed his eyes. ‘You two seemed close to something earlier.’

‘Was that before or after you kissed my best friend?’

‘Before.’

James stilled within touching distance. Regulus glared up at him but did not stand. He looked drunk and sullen and so utterly breathtaking that James wanted to inhale him.

‘You like me,’ he breathed, hoping he wasn’t wrong.

Regulus rolled his dark eyes. ‘I thought that was obvious.’

‘Says you, who just snogged my best mate.’

‘Well, you were occupied with Lily on the dance floor.’

‘I’m telling you I’m not otherwise occupied, you twat. You occupy me.’

And with that James closed the small gap between them and captured him in a breathless kiss. Regulus rose out of the chair without breaking away, his hands grasping desperately at James’ shirt, fisting the fabric.

James had never kissed a bloke before Regulus. Never really thought about it. His attention had only ever been on Lily. The joke kiss in the Shrieking Shack had been mere seconds, restrained, and in front of an audience. This was nothing like it.

James no longer cared that Regulus had kissed Remus, but he fully intended on erasing the memory. On ensuring that Regulus forgot about anyone but him. And from the way Regulus pressed against him, mouth open, fingers slipping beneath his shirt, the feeling was mutual.

When they parted to catch their breath, panting, their pupils were blown with desire, their lips swollen, bodies feeling strange and wonderful and strangely new. James let out a low, victorious laugh. ‘I think I’m falling in love with you,’ he said, pressing his forehead against Regulus’.

Regulus replied with another heady kiss – it was more feverish this time, more desperate, as if he was putting a thousand words into every press of his lips, with the way his fingers dug into James’ hips and the way he moaned just so.

‘We should stop before we go further,’ said James, pulling back again even as his whole body screamed at him to keep going. ‘We’re too drunk.’

Regulus chuckled breathlessly. ‘All right.’

Despite his words, James tugged him closer still, aligning their bodies like puzzle pieces and held him there. ‘Don’t change your mind by morning.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

James raised his hands then, cradling Regulus’ face gently and gazing at him like he was the brightest star in the universe. It was so intense Regulus’ chest shuddered with an emotion he could not define. Something wonderfully intoxicating. Something pure. James whispered, ‘Now that I have you, I’m keeping you. I can’t do casual. I don’t know how. Is that all right? Tell me now if it isn’t and I’ll walk away.’

Regulus answered with another all-consuming kiss.

Chapter Text

Regulus woke up warm. That cosy, comforting, lovely kind of warm that only comes when the air is crisp but the blankets are thick, and when someone’s arms are around you. He could feel warm breath against his spine and smiled to himself. It was so much different from the first time he woke up with James wrapped around him; it was surreal how much had changed. How much better things were, at least between them.

Raising his hand slowly, careful not to jostle James, Regulus absently traced his fingers over James’ hands where they gripped him. On his forefinger, James wore a ring with antlers carved into the metal. Regulus thought of the name Sirius, Remus and Peter always called him – ‘Prongs’ – and wondered if stags were his favourite animal or if there was some backstory to it.

‘You smell good,’ James murmured into his back.

‘What do I smell like?’

‘Stardust.’

Turning over in his arms, Regulus brushed the hair back from James’ sleepy hazel eyes. ‘You, James Potter, are a hopeless romantic. It’s truly quite chronic.’

‘Does this mean you won’t be kissing anyone else?’

‘I don’t want to kiss anyone else.’

James’ smile was like a satisfied cat’s. ‘Good. Because you’re mine.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like I said.’ Regulus shook his head fondly. ‘Hopeless.’

The rest of the week passed like a dream where it concerned being with James: gone was the charade and the uncertainty, replaced with knowing glances, kisses that quickly escalated, hands intertwined beneath tables, fingers tracing gently over skin. But for as wonderful as it was to know that their once pretend relationship was actually real, Regulus could not get the encounter with Severus out of his head, nor could he stop obsessing over the arrival of a Death Eater coming to meet him that weekend and question him about his loyalty.

By Saturday morning his stomach was in knots and he felt deeply unwell. He debated simply spending the entire day in the Room of Requirement but he had little doubt that Severus would see to it that the Death Eaters put the Lupins in prison (or worse).

When he sat down at breakfast, he could only sip at coffee. Who could Voldemort be sending to talk to him? It had to be someone capable of getting in and out of Hogsmeade without getting caught. But was it going to be someone like Narcissa, who loved him and would only ask what had been going on of late, or would it be someone like Mulciber?

His stomach churned with an internal hurricane of anxiety at the mere prospect.

‘You okay?’ Peter eyed him worriedly. ‘You look like you’re going to vomit.’

‘Didn’t sleep well,’ he admitted.

Beside him, James put down his fork, brow furrowing in concern. ‘You didn’t?’

Before Regulus could come up with something to say, a throat cleared at the end of the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

It was Severus.

‘Black, you ready?’ A smirk of triumph played on his thin lips and he tapped spindly fingers in a drumbeat on the table top.

Regulus wanted to throw a plate at him.

‘He’s not serious? Is he serious?’ Sirius looked at his brother, pulled out of the odd and out of character funk that had kept him sullen all week long. Regulus might have asked him about it if he himself had not been so preoccupied.

‘It’s homework,’ said Regulus, standing and slinging his bookbag over his shoulder. ‘We didn’t get to choose our partners.’

Sirius scowled. ‘You can’t request someone else? He’s in our year.’

‘No. Assigned study partners to prepare for next year.’

James stood and caught his hand before he could walk towards Severus. ‘You’ll tell me?’ he whispered, low enough so only Regulus could hear, urgency laced into his words. ‘If he says anything? If he does anything?’

‘Of course.’

There was clearly more James wanted to say, but he smiled tightly and sat back down.

Regulus waved to the other Marauders before following Severus out of the Great Hall. He had little desire to speak to Severus and said nothing as they made their way through a secret passageway to Hogsmeade.

The early winter morning was brisk and Regulus immediately missed the castle. He wanted to be spending his Saturday with James and Sirius, not trudging through Hogsmeade to meet a Death Eater with Severus fucking Snape.

Severus turned up the third street they passed and they headed to the far end. There were no students about and only a few residents, but none of them passed the students a second glance as they walked along.

One of the last houses had lights on inside and looked innocuous enough, but when they strode through the front gates, it was like a veil had been lifted. The house was not a sweet little cottage, but an old manor. The door opened as they headed up to the path and to Regulus’ utter disbelief, his cousin Bellatrix stood in the doorway.

‘Cousin,’ she greeted, kissing him on both cheeks. A sick shiver went through him. The last time he’d seen Bellatrix, she’d talked of torturing a Muggle in France. She described it like she had won some sort of hunting trophy. (Sometimes he thought – indeed, worried greatly – that it was only decorum that kept her from displaying the body parts of her victims in her house.)

‘Bella,’ he grunted. ‘Are you who I’m here to meet?’

‘This way.’ She tugged him inside.

The house was old and new at the same time. Everything worked, but none of it looked like it worked well. A damp clung to the air and he could see his breath when he exhaled. She brought him into the back sitting room, oddly well behaved. Bella generally launched into chatter the second she saw anyone. But the reason for her demeanour quickly revealed itself: a tall, thin, imposing figure was standing in front of the hearth.

The Dark Lord. Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort.

When he turned from the flames, Regulus found it suddenly difficult to breathe. Something about him was just not right. And it had nothing to do with his beliefs and murders – no, there was something fundamentally wrong about him. Like something was missing. But Regulus did not know how to describe what it was that was missing. Only that it hurt to gaze upon him.

‘Ah, Regulus.’ Voldemort beckoned to him.

Regulus went automatically. He let the Dark Lord kiss his cheek, ignoring the way it made his soul squirm. It took effort, but he kept his mind sealed. He had known how for years now. (His mother used to try to read his mind when he was a child. It was Sirius who taught him how to close himself off. Lock away his secrets.)

He was very, very aware of how death arrived on swift wings near Lord Voldemort and too many now relied upon his ability to give nothing away.

‘Would you like tea?’

He put his hands behind his back and bowed his head in a show of obedient respect. ‘No, thank you, my lord.’

A silence fell for but a moment as Regulus waited for Voldemort’s questions.

It did not take long.

‘I hear you are reconsidering joining us, Regulus.’

‘I said no such thing,’ said Regulus, choosing his words carefully. ‘My distancing of myself from my family and my House had nothing to do with politics or ideology. I was trying to survive their abuse.’

Voldemort raised a black eyebrow and gestured for Regulus to sit. He took the chair opposite and leaned in, as if they were old friends having a debate. Voldemort fixed him with a discerning eye. In another life, he might even have been handsome. He said, ‘That is not the story I was given. Please, enlighten me.’

Regulus sat forward, matching his stance. ‘Neither my parents nor my House are delighted that I’m dating James Potter.’

He was gambling with his life if this went the wrong way, but Regulus felt like he was onto something and he had no other cards to play.

Voldemort nodded, expression impossible to read. ‘Ah, yes. James Potter. He comes from a good wizarding family. I’ve heard intriguing things about his ancestors.’

‘He comes from a brilliant family. Pureblood, powerful. But he’s a man. So.’ Regulus held the Dark Lord’s gaze unapologetically. ‘If we are about a world of wizards able to freely interconnect, prosper, grow – then why is my choice so wrong? Rosier, Avery, Snape, Mulciber, Crouch, my parents – they all hate me not for betraying our people, but for refusing to hide. Refusing to apologise. Tell me, my lord, if my only crime against our movement is honesty, are we truly for all wizards? If James and I ever married, our union would bring together two pureblood families. Where in any of that have I betrayed our cause? How is any of that a betrayal to you? I have said not a word against you, my lord. I have not changed sides. I fell in love. I thought my own people would accept that. My choice is good. I stand by that.’

The lies spun well as they left his lips, but he had no way of knowing if Voldemort would believe them. But Regulus had always had the sense that blood and power meant more to him than sex and gender. And he was betting everything that, oddly enough, an appeal to the former might mean an overlooking of the latter.

‘So,’ said Voldemort at length, ‘your discontent of late is not with our cause, but with your parents and friends.’ A chilling smirk. ‘I empathise, Regulus.’

That, he had not expected. ‘You do?’

‘My parents also proved to be a profound disappointment and enduring embarrassment.’

‘And yet here you are.’ Regulus sat back and gestured vaguely in the direction of Hogwarts. ‘Frightening even Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps one day my parents will beg for my forgiveness. It’s a strange thing to wonder if I will ever grant it.’

‘Do you wish them punished?’

Was that an offer?

He had never been so careful with his next words in all his life. ‘I … want to show them all how wrong they were about me. I want to recruit more brilliant wizards and witches to our side. Half the reason we’re not where we ought to be is because you have lunatics like Mulciber turning away strong, powerful wizarding families. My new relationships with others across the Houses could open up previously shut avenues of discourse. I have not swayed from our cause, my lord, I simply do not believe creatures like Mulciber are the best face of our campaign. I am. James Potter could be. My brother, also turned away because of our parents’ abuse. The Lupins – who would fight for you, if there is but a place in the new world for them – one that does not exist in this world. I am playing the long game, my lord. I simply did not see fit to include my parents in my plans, nor my former friends. Their loyalty is conditional. Mine is not.’

‘Severus seems of the mind that you have changed sides. As is Mulciber. Indeed it was Bella who convinced me to hear you out. She believed Severus might be exaggerating.’

Regulus snorted. ‘I cannot eradicate an ignorance foisted upon us by Muggles all on my own, my lord.’

‘Which ignorance is that?’

‘You know that it was the Muggles who first outlawed homosexuality and the Wizarding World adopted it afterwards. It’s a stain upon our people and should be undone.’

‘Where did you read that?’

‘In the Restricted Section.’

This seemed deeply amusing to Voldemort, who considered him for so long it went past the point of unnerving. Then, ‘James Potter is indeed from a good family, ancient and pureblood. I see no reason to chastise you over matters of taste and pleasure, Regulus.’

Regulus couldn’t fake his surprise. ‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘Blood and magic above all else, my boy. What do I care if two pureblood wizards wish to combine their families? It will only make us stronger. And I imagine you’d be less revolting than Lucius and Narcissa.’

Regulus almost laughed.

‘You may go, Regulus. I have no desire to remain here longer than necessary and you have assuaged my concerns. I will see you soon. Do not spare another thought for your parents’ or House mates’ opinions. I never did. Look at me now.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I’m relieved you understand. You can see what they could not and that is why I am loyal to your cause. You can give us a world worthy of wizards. The world as it stands is not.’

‘I agree.’

Regulus stood, bowed, and took his leave. Neither Bellatrix nor Severus stopped him on his way.

That he could take his leave left him reeling as he walked away from the house and back into Hogsmeade. His legs felt like jam and he had to stop a few times to gather his breath and keep from getting sick.

He went into the Hog’s Head and ordered a whiskey – the proprietor never bothered to ask for identification – and, when he’d downed one in a single go and ordered another, he went to the back of the pub and sank slowly into one of the rickety chairs.

He could not stop shaking.

Regulus stumbled into the Shrieking Shack a little after midnight, barely cognisant enough to close the wall behind him. He somehow made it to the broken sofa and collapsed.

He was too drunk to notice the piles of clothes on the ground.

‘Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.’ Sirius was staring at Regulus on the sofa. ‘What the fuck is he doing here?’

‘I …’ James shook his head, bewildered.

‘We never should have brought him here,’ seethed Remus. ‘If he’d been a few hours earlier, I’d have bit him.’

By sheer luck, they had only returned to the shack when the sun was inching into the sky; Moony had transformed back two steps into the tunnel. But some nights they arrived early.

James’ hands went to his head in horror. Regulus knew about the werewolf. He didn’t know who but he knew there was one. He knew about the full moon because he and James had made plans around it this month.

‘What do we do?’ This, from Peter. ‘If he finds out Moony’s a—’

‘He’s not finding out,’ said Sirius flatly. ‘If he knows it puts him and Moony and the Lupins at risk.’

‘He’ll hate me.’ Remus was staring at Regulus like he was about to pass out.

‘I don’t hate you – and I’ve known for a while.’ Regulus rolled over on the sofa and squinted up at them, evidently hungover. His dark eyes flicked to Sirius. ‘I didn’t think you knew, but that’s the only surprising part of this.’

‘You know?’ Sirius and Remus spoke in unison.

‘Well, it wasn’t a potions accident.’

‘What?’ croaked Sirius, the colour draining from his face.

‘No,’ breathed Remus. He stumbled to Regulus and sank down to his knees in front of him. ‘Did – did I bite you?’

‘No.’ The smile Regulus offered was so kind that James wanted to kiss him. Yet it had no impact on Remus.

As if in a loop of fear, Remus reached out with trembling hands. ‘Can – can I see? Please?’

With a sigh, Regulus tugged his shirt over the back of his head and discarded it. In the pale, splintered light of the Shrieking Shack, the werewolf wounds looked worse than last time James had seen them. But they were starting to scar at last.

Remus’ hands went to his mouth, eyes filling with tears.

‘Hey.’ Regulus leaned forward and pulled Remus into a hug. ‘I’m fine, Lupin. It barely hurt. It looks worse than it is.’

James loved him all the more for this lie. But Remus was sobbing, thoroughly distraught, his whole body shaking in Regulus’ grip. Horrified. Terrified. Regulus whispered calming assurances to him and rubbed his back kindly while the others looked on, helpless.

‘Have you been coming down here alone?’ Sirius was frowning at his brother; he was holding his hair back from his face with his fist and was gripping the roots tightly with a stress his voice managed to hide.

‘No.’ Regulus drew back from Remus, who still looked close to heaving but seemed to be gathering his composure.

‘It was you,’ said Peter quietly. ‘That night. Not a rabbit.’

‘Yes,’ said James, finally finding his voice.

Everyone’s attention snapped to him.

‘You knew he knew?’ There was a strange edge in Sirius’ tone.

‘I knew.’ James retrieved Regulus’ discarded shirt and handed it back to him. Then, shrugging off his own jumper, he held it out with a pointed look.

An almost-smile curved Regulus’ mouth and he put both on dutifully.

‘Regulus didn’t want to get anyone in trouble and I couldn’t tell him it was you.’ He inclined his head to Remus. ‘Sorry. I knew it would fuck with your head and I didn’t think you needed that. Regulus didn’t want that. And, since we’re on the subject of putting everything out in the open – Regulus and I are dating. Actually.’

Sirius’ hand dropped from where it had held his hair back, allowing the black strands to fall in front of his eyes. ‘Okay, I need a fucking drink,’ he said bluntly. He sank into the rickety chair, which groaned loudly, and thrust out both hands. ‘Anything fucking else you lot are hiding?’

‘I had sex,’ said Peter.

Everyone turned to him.

‘What, seriously?’ said Sirius.

‘Last week.’ Peter blushed. ‘And I’ve got a girlfriend.’

‘You’ve been holding out on us.’ Sirius scowled at him. ‘Who’s the lady?’

‘Marlene.’

Sirius whistled. ‘Good for you, mate. I’m happy for you.’

‘She’s lovely,’ said James, winking at Peter.

The break in the tension lasted only seconds before Sirius redirected his gaze to Regulus with a confused frown. ‘Wait, so what were you doing out here last month?’

Regulus glanced at James, who grimaced.

‘What?’ asked Remus, Sirius and Peter in unison.

‘Snape,’ said James. ‘And I beat the piss out of him for it.’

‘Severus did this?’ Remus stumbled back, hands going to his mouth.

‘Yeah. He doesn’t like you anymore than he likes me,’ said Regulus.

‘This is all my fault.’

Everyone turned this time to Sirius.

‘Your fault?’ Regulus sounded bewildered. ‘How is it your fault?’

No one spoke.

‘What am I missing?’

Peter sighed, glanced at Sirius uncertainly, opened and closed his mouth several times before, with a wince, murmuring, ‘He, ah, told Severus about this place two years ago. Didn’t – didn’t end well. Dumbledore swore Snape to silence, but I don’t think hints are covered in that promise.’

Regulus rose to his feet, all traces of a hangover gone. ‘You told him?’

‘It …’ Sirius was a ghastly shade of sick-white. ‘It was thoughtless and cruel. I have no excuse. I knew as soon as I’d done it, it was wrong. If I could take it back, I would.’

The words made James’ chest clench.

‘Let me get this straight.’ Never had James heard Regulus sound so dangerous or so furious. Which, given everything he and Regulus had been through that term, was rather unsettlingly remarkable. ‘You gave the man you hate more than anyone else, the key to ruining Remus’ life? Your best friend? The key that will quite literally mean the arrest and imprisonment of his parents if it’s discovered? Do I have that right?’

Remus moved slightly, protectively, in front of Sirius. ‘I forgave him. It’s in the past.’

‘Oh, clearly,’ said Regulus, and Remus flinched.

‘He – he can’t tell anyone,’ said Sirius, and he looked like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. James knew how tightly he’d clung to that belief and Regulus’ revelation seemed to be undoing him as much as Remus.

‘HE ALREADY DID!’ Regulus gestured furiously at himself, breathing hard. ‘Do you know what you’ve done?’

Rather than wait for Sirius to answer, Regulus shook his head, mouth twisting in disappointment, tears welling in his eyes. ‘Fuck your reactionary bullshit, Sirius. Just … Merlin – fuck you.’ Still shaking his head, like he was trying to shake away the truth, Regulus turned and stormed out.

James spared an apologetic look at the others before tearing after him.

Regulus didn’t so much as pause as he opened a hole in the side of the Shrieking Shack with his wand and stormed out into the daylight towards Hogsmeade. James barely had enough time to dart through before the wood had reformed.

It was a cold, still morning and the chirps and hoots and caws of the birds in the trees above provided a strange soundtrack to their otherwise tense, silent walk.

Regulus led the way to Honeydukes and, one diversion spell later, the pair were making their way through one of the secret passages back to Hogwarts.

They passed a few students on their way to the seventh floor, and the Grey Lady nodded to them when she passed through the walls ahead of them at one point, but not a word was uttered between them until James and Regulus were inside the Room of Requirement, still a replica of James’ bedroom.

The moment the door was shut, James braced himself for a fight. For Regulus to suggest they break up.

It never came.

One moment he was worrying about Regulus breaking up with him and the next they were fused together. Regulus kissed him like the world was ending, like they had to make every second count. The desperation should have alarmed James, and perhaps if he’d been less intoxicated by Regulus it would have, but his every touch sent James spiralling further into desire and the only thing he cared about was not stopping. Not letting him go. Making this moment last as long as it possibly could.

Regulus pulled off his shirt first and James knew he should suggest slowing down to talk about everything, but Regulus’ hands were on his hips and back and neck and jaw and in his hair, and who was James to deny him the very thing he wanted most?

The sight of the scars on Regulus would haunt Remus for the rest of his life. In the wake of their exit, he found he had nothing to say. He sat slowly back down on the shabby, broken down sofa, folded his hands together, and pressed his mouth to his fingers. Part of him – and it was not a small part – wanted to run after Regulus and demand a full body check, just to assure himself there were no bite marks.

On the floor, immobile, Sirius stared at the wall, pale and horrified. Peter, who didn’t seem to know where he fit into the chaos of the multiple arguments, paced for about twenty minutes, asked the others if they wanted breakfast, and when nobody moved, apologised and departed.

Remus wanted to comfort Sirius, but he didn’t know how.

He had attacked someone.

He had attacked Regulus.

Because Snape hated them.

Because Snape knew.

Because Sirius had told him.

Nearly two years later and Remus still could not believe Sirius – of all people – could do such a thing. To him.

It was early evening, the day having been swallowed by their fears and regrets, the moon already calling to Remus, his bones starting to throb, his skin beginning to ache, when at last Sirius got up onto his knees and crawled over to Remus. But he did not rise up onto the sofa and instead kneeled before Remus.

‘Do you want me to go?’

Remus rubbed his mouth roughly, gathering himself. ‘I’ve never wanted that,’ he said at length. ‘Even when I’m angry with you. Even when you deserve it.’

Sirius took his hand. ‘I’ll never be able to make it right or take it back, but if it’s the last thing I do, I will keep you safe. I won’t let anyone harm you or lock you away. I would break you out of Azkaban if it ever came to that. I love you, Remus. I’ve always loved you. I’m the biggest git in the universe for what I did. I know that. I ruin everything because I’m so angry all the time, but I love you. I know that’s not enough but it’s all I have.’

‘It’s enough.’ Remus smiled sadly at him. ‘And I know you’re sorry you did it. Sometimes all I do is hate myself because in another life, you loving me would be the fairytale. But even the Beast turns back into a prince at the end, Sirius. Monsters don’t get nice endings. Killing them or changing them is the moral of every fairytale.’

Sirius was shaking his head before Remus finished. ‘The only thing I’d change is how much pain you’re in. How people treat werewolves. The disgusting, bigoted bullshit that you’ve to put up with on a daily fucking basis. But I love you as you are. Wizard and wolf. I ever tell you how beautiful a wolf you are?’

Remus scoffed.

‘No. Don’t do that.’ Sirius put a hand under his chin. ‘You’re beautiful, Remus. I like to think my magic - the spell - made me a dog to match you. Everything I do, I’m always thinking about you.’

And then, before Remus could stop him, Sirius was kissing him.

Perhaps it was the imminent full moon clouding his thoughts; perhaps it was needing to cling to something good after the dark revelations of the day; perhaps it was because the only feeling stronger than Remus’ self-loathing was his love for Sirius – whatever the reason, Remus kissed him back.

Chapter Text

Regulus remained furious with Sirius for the rest of the weekend, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t tell Sirius the true depths of his fuck up or why his betrayal of Remus’ secret was such a personal problem for Regulus. Regulus couldn’t tell him how he’d inadvertently put the entire Lupin family in the Death Eaters’ crosshairs, nor could he tell anyone else for fear of what might become of them. But despite the coldness that grew between the brothers like a manifested ghost well on its way to becoming a poltergeist, Regulus was around Sirius every day simply because he spent every day with James and Remus.

Regulus could tell, too, that something had changed between Sirius and Remus, and despite it all, he hoped they had mended things, if only for Remus’ sake. Still, Regulus was angry. He was angrier than he knew how to handle and he could admit that no small part of that rage stemmed from everything he and Sirius had never really sorted out from their childhood. From Sirius abandoning him without so much as a letter or word of concern. They had said they’d talk about everything, but that talk had never happened; they had both just pretended there had never been an estrangement, yet in many ways that estrangement still endured. And Regulus still ached.

And so Regulus’ mood worsened day by day even as things improved in his friendships with Remus and Peter. Things with James, too, seemed almost perfect. The contrast in the state of his relationships was something Regulus dwelled on throughout his classes, tuning out his professors’ words and wondering instead how it was that his personal life was a) so eventful it was now distracting him from schoolwork and b) so complicated he feared he was going to develop ulcers.

By Wednesday evening the following week, Regulus was relieved to be alone in the Room of Requirement working on his essay for Slughorn – James was at Quidditch practice with Sirius – glad of the peace and quiet. Remus had asked him to come along to the library, but he’d bowed out. His homework could only take so much procrastination and, despite everything, he still had some manner of pride left to him. Failing his exams was not an option.

Regulus was halfway through a detailed analysis of Slughorn’s latest potions assignment when Kreacher appeared with a snap that made Regulus scramble off the bed.

Kreacher was out of breath and flushed. ‘Master Regulus! Master Regulus!’

Regulus hurried to his side. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Master Regulus, I know I should not have snooped—’

‘Tell me.’

‘It’s Mr Potter.’ Kreacher’s eyes were as wide as teacups. ‘He was at the Ministry—’

‘Context later, Kreach.’

‘The Death Eaters are going to kill him!’

Regulus stared at him, horrified. ‘Now?’

‘Now, Master Regulus! Right now!’

‘Can you tell Dumbledore?’

‘He is not at Hogwarts, Master Regulus. Kreacher heard that he is away in Germany. There is no one to tell.’

‘Fuck.’ Regulus looked around for his wand, a plan forming as he thought ahead. Just as he snatched up his wand, a door appeared at the other end of the room. He smiled gratefully; the Room of Requirement always gave solutions to those in need.

‘Right,’ he said, turning to Kreacher. ‘Go home before Mum notices you’re missing.’

‘What about you?’

‘I’m going to go tell them to run. If I can get there first, the Death Eaters won’t even notice me.’

Kreacher didn’t look happy about this.

‘If you can, send word to Dumbledore. But no one else, Kreacher. No one else. I don’t know which of the professors we could even trust. Dumbledore only.’

Still unhappy, but evidently seeing no alternative, Kreacher nodded and disappeared with a crack.

Seizing his coat, Regulus shrugged it on, stamped on his boots, and darted through the door the room had produced for him.

The instant he was out the other side, the door vanished and an icy, bitter wind slapped him full in the face. He was alone on a snow dusted street that he didn’t recognise. Thankfully, it was deserted and there was no Death Eater or even a Muggle in sight.

Raising his wand, he darted out of the shadows, searching for a road sign that would direct him towards the Potters’.

It took several minutes of precious time to locate a town sign, but then he knew where he was. Godric’s Hollow. The town James was born in. A wooden sign told him he was on the east side of the town. His eyes landed on a corner shop that he thought he’d passed by years ago on his first – and only – visit. Darting up this road, he kept his wand aloft and prayed that he wasn’t too late.

To his utter relief, it was mere minutes before a large, familiar manor came into view. The Potter home, bought after James’ father made his fortune.

Looking around quickly and seeing no sign of any Death Eaters, Regulus sprinted up the path. Most wizarding homes could not be Apparated in and out of without express permission, but even if he’d been allowed to, Regulus wasn’t quite capable of Apparating yet.

And this wasn’t the best time to be Splinching.

Trotting up the steps, he banged his hand on the door. Not sure who was at home, he called out for both. ‘Mr Potter! Mrs Potter, it’s Regulus Black! I’m a friend of your son! Please open the door!’

He didn’t hear anything on the other side and his panic mounted. He raised his hand again to knock when a light flicked on.

The door opened, revealing a tired looking and clearly heading-to-bed Mrs Potter. ‘Regulus, hello,’ she greeted warmly. ‘James has mentioned you. Is everything all right?’

‘Mrs Potter, where’s your husband?’ he asked urgently.

‘He’s still at the Ministry, why?’

Regulus cut a worried glance around before continuing. ‘The Death Eaters,’ he whispered. ‘They’re coming.’

Something in his words must have made him believable, for she did not hesitate to wave him inside and quickly picked up her shoes and donned her coat.

She then led the way into the kitchen and waved Regulus over to the fire. A bowl of Floo powder sat on the mantle. She lifted it up and held it out.

‘We can—’

The front door blasted off its hinges and both ducked to avoid the debris. Wood, nails, brick and plaster went everywhere. And there, in the centre of the dust cloud, appeared two figures, barely pausing their pace as they entered the house uninvited.

Regulus raised his wand. ‘Reducto!’

The spell caught the closer Death Eater off-guard and blasted him off his feet, but the second one directed a spell not a second later at Mrs Potter, who did not appear to have her wand.

‘Crucio!’

Mrs Potter’s screams burned Regulus’ ears and he reacted on instinct.

‘Expelliarmus!’

The Death Eater’s wand clattered to the ground.

‘Accio!’ The fallen wand flew to Regulus’ hand just as the second Death Eater yelled, ‘Sectumsempra!’

Blood splattered across Regulus’ cheek – and then Mrs Potter collapsed, blood staining her shirt. He caught her, but it unbalanced him and he almost lost his grip on his wand.

‘A—’

‘Protego!’

The two bursts of light collided mid-air and rebounded. The force of the spells blasted a hole into the wall, which began to tremble. Cracks formed and splintered up the plaster and wood. The whole house groaned and swayed – a warning of imminent collapse.

Regulus seized Mrs Potter’s arm and hauled her away from the chimney. Somehow she managed to stumble along beside him, yet her blood kept soaking his clothes.

‘Where is your wand?’ he asked.

‘The kitchen.’

‘Fuck. We’ll have to leave it.’

They made it out the back door and across the garden lawn before the house’s walls collapsed and the roof caved in.

A dog shot out the now ruined kitchen wall and scampered into the bushes, tail between its legs.

‘Is he okay?’

‘The dog? He’s better than we are right now. The Death Eaters aren’t going after him.’ Regulus just hoped the roof had fallen on the Death Eaters. ‘Are there any wizarding folk in the area?’ he asked as they made their way carefully down the hill.

‘The McKinnons.’

‘Marlene’s folks? Good.’

‘It is not – not far.’ Mrs Potter sounded increasingly close to fainting and it was getting harder and harder to haul her along.

‘What’s the fastest way to London from here?’ he pressed, wondering if it would be better to take her straight there and bypass the McKinnons entirely.

‘The … phone booth. Centre of town.’

Regulus had passed a phone booth in the town square. It wasn’t far, but it would take much longer than normal half carrying Mrs Potter. Before he could ask for directions to the McKinnon house, a shadow appeared in the road in front of them and he stopped.

Wind whipped the Death Eater’s robes around him in a menacing manner.

Regulus raised his wand, but the Death Eater walked closer, uncaring, removing his mask as he did so.

A chill that had nothing to do with the wind scuttled across Regulus’ flesh and burrowed into his bones.

The last time they had seen each other, Mulciber cursed him with the Cruciatus curse. Even now, Regulus felt the effects of the spell. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever forget it. If it would ever stop eating at his soul like some kind of magical parasite.

‘I was right,’ said Mulciber, almost marvelling, and a gathering of fear began to build inside Regulus’ chest. ‘You are a traitor.’

Regulus moved in front of Mrs Potter. ‘You attack a witch in her home and I’m the traitor?’

‘Potter sent my father to Azkaban today.’ Mulciber had always been a bit deranged, but the gleam in his eyes at this moment was truly unsettling. His wand shook with anticipation.

‘For what?’ Not that Regulus truly cared.

‘Eyewitness in a Mudblood cleansing,’ said Mulciber. ‘Turned his back on his own kind for one of those creatures.’

‘Sounds like your father is a prime candidate for the dementors, then.’

Mulciber bared his teeth at this remark. ‘I’m going to love bringing your corpse to the Dark Lord.’

Mrs Potter gasped behind him and her hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist, tugging sideways.

‘Avada Kedavra!’

But it wasn’t Mulciber who’d spoken.

Regulus was already dropping to his knees, taking Mrs Potter down with him. The curse, aimed at Regulus from behind, flew over them and hit Mulciber right in the chest. He fell in a graceless arc as Regulus scrambled back to his feet, turning as he did so.

He and the remaining Death Eater stared at each other for a long, horrible stretch. Both were gasping for breath, wands gripped tightly in their hands.

The Death Eater raised his wand for the second time. ‘Av—’

‘Avada Kedavra!’ The killing curse burst from Regulus’ lips without thought. Fuelled by his fear for James, for the Potters, for Remus and the Lupins and Sirius and even his own parents – anyone whose life was forfeit if it was discovered he was a traitor to the Dark Lord – the spell came out of him with more power than he could have imagined and overpowered the Death Eater’s spell.

The second Death Eater fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Utterly drained, Regulus helped Mrs Potter back to her feet even as his own legs threatened to give out beneath him. She was barely conscious, her blood still leaving her wounds at an alarming speed and staining his hands and clothes.

It took them only minutes to reach the phone booth after that, but Mrs Potter was in no condition to get them to the McKinnon house and Regulus didn’t think anything other than a trained healer was an option at this point. He knew, with grim realisation, that she had minutes left, if that.

‘Tap the “3” key,’ she mumbled when they were inside. ‘Say dilego.’

Regulus did as she instructed.

A voice crackled on the end of the line immediately.

‘Destination?’

‘St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Please hurry.’

‘Do you require a stretcher?’

‘Yes.’

‘One moment, sir.’

They were spinning then, moving as if through swirling, bendable bricks. Then, just as abruptly, everything stopped.

The phone booth was now in a brightly lit, too-white corridor and an orderly was waiting with a floating stretcher. She opened the door and Mrs Potter fell forward into her arms.

‘Oh, dear!’

Regulus quickly helped the orderly manoeuvre Mrs Potter onto the stretcher before stepping back. In the horrible brightness of the hospital ward, the blood staining him made him look like an axe murderer.

‘Name, dear?’ said the orderly. ‘And can you tell us what happened?’

‘She’s Euphemia Potter. We were attacked by Death Eaters.’

The orderly paled. Over by the desk, the receptionist froze, eyes widening. Several portraits on the walls gasped in shock.

Even now, even after so much death, no one expected the Death Eaters to attack.

‘Please just help her,’ said Regulus, ignoring the now watchful eyes of onlookers. ‘Please.’

‘We’ll do our best, dear.’

Regulus stood, feeling sick and helpless, as they disappeared into a room down the hallway. An awful, overwhelming silence followed their departure.

Sinking down into the nearest chair, he stared at the wall, the green light of a swift death still flashing in front of his eyes. His entire body felt wrong after casting the curse. Like it had taken something from him. Something vital.

Like he was no longer as human as he’d been an hour ago.

‘Sir?’ A witch wearing large glasses and a set of dark green robes was standing over him, although he hadn’t seen her arrive. She had a clipboard in hand; a quill floated above it, poised to take notes. ‘Is there someone I can contact, Mr …’

‘My legal guardian is Albus Dumbledore,’ he said wearily. ‘I’m a student at Hogwarts under his care.’

Before the witch could reply, and as if summed by the mere mention of his name, Dumbledore appeared in the corridor with a small popping sound. Flanking him were three wizards, including a dishevelled Mr Potter. One of the men Regulus vaguely recognised as Barty’s father and namesake, and apprehension bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

‘Regulus,’ said Dumbledore, concern audible in his calm voice. He walked quickly to Regulus’ side and bent down to examine him. ‘Are you all right, my boy?’

‘Death Eaters,’ he croaked. Despite everything, the sight of Dumbledore calmed him in a way nothing else could. If Dumbledore was there, he could relax. If Dumbledore was there, no one else was going to die tonight. He swallowed hard and forced himself to continue. ‘They attacked Mrs Potter. She’s in there,’ he added, addressing this part to Mr Potter and pointing over the nurse’s shoulder to the double doors.

Mr Potter sprinted down the corridor and through the doors without a word. Regulus could practically feel his fear.

‘Regulus, do you need a doctor to examine you?’

‘I …’ Regulus held Dumbledore’s gaze helplessly, feeling the sudden urge to cry. ‘I need to tell James. Explain. I don’t want him to read it in the morning paper.’

‘All right.’ Dumbledore pressed a glass of water into his hand – where he’d got it, or whether he’d conjured it, Regulus wasn’t sure – and made him drink the entire thing before helping him back to his feet. ‘Kingsley, Barty – stay guard. Alastair is on his way. Don’t leave Fleamont alone. We’ll be back shortly.’

‘Aye,’ said Kingsley.

Crouch, surprisingly, squeezed Regulus’ arm. ‘You did good, son. You should be proud of yourself.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ he whispered.

In seconds, Dumbledore had brought them back to the relative safety of Hogwarts. The brief Side-Along Apparition left Regulus feeling even more off kilter and queasy, but thankfully he didn’t collapse. At this point he was pretty certain he was standing solely out of defiance.

They were in his office, far from the prying eyes of the students and staff, and a large phoenix was peering down at them from its perch.

Dumbledore looked to one of the portraits and said, ‘Armando, please tell Minerva to bring Misters Potter and Black to my office. Advise discretion.’

The man in the portrait, Armando, disappeared into the painted tower behind him with remarkable haste.

Dumbledore then redirected his attention to Regulus. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

Regulus held his gaze, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. He felt like he needed to confess his sins, although whether he was feeling more legally or morally in trouble, he wasn’t sure.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he instead put his wand to his temple and drew out the memory for Dumbledore, just as he’d seen his parents do over the years. Few wizards grew up knowing how to extract their memories, but to Regulus it was no stranger than all the other oddities that came with growing up in the Noble and Most Absurd House of Black.

Acting quickly, Dumbledore took the memory and brought it to his Pensieve.

As Dumbledore watched the evening’s events through Regulus’ eyes, the phoenix flew down and landed lightly on his leg. It bumped its head against Regulus until he raised a hand to stroke its feathers. There was something terribly soothing about the phoenix, like it knew on some level the feelings and thoughts of those beyond its own species. Regulus got the vague impression that he could tell the bird everything and be understood.

‘Regulus,’ said Dumbledore when he’d finished watching the memories and returned to his desk. He sat down and folded his long, thin fingers together. ‘That was a very brave thing you did tonight.’

‘Am I going to Azkaban?’

Dumbledore frowned and shook his head. ‘You acted in defence of yourself and another. You committed no crime tonight, Regulus.’

‘I wanted to kill them.’ Saying it aloud helped in an odd, twisted, sick kind of way. ‘He raised his wand to kill us but I wanted him just as dead. I was only waiting for him to say it first.’ The tears trailed down his cheeks. ‘Fuck, I wanted them both dead.’

‘But you did wait,’ said Dumbledore gently. Kindly. ‘And he did act first. You would not have killed him otherwise.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

‘I do.’

Regulus felt a rush of sickening relief and he wiped his eyes with a trembling hand. ‘Then why do I feel like a murderer?’

‘Because you are a good person.’ Dumbledore’s voice was firm, forcing Regulus to hear his certainty. ‘Do you think Tom Riddle cries over the lives he takes? No. I fear he does not. Guilt and anguish are the marker of a good heart, Regulus. Be glad of your tears. I see you weep and know that I have trusted the right man.’

Regulus wiped his eyes again and tried to force himself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t easy, but he felt his panic attack subside slightly. ‘Thank – thank you, sir.’

Dumbledore poured him a cup of tea and passed it over. ‘Drink up.’

Regulus picked up the cup obediently, but his stomach turned.

‘Regulus.’

He met Dumbledore’s gaze.

‘Did you forget my promise to you? You are in my care. I will not allow you to go to prison over this. Will you trust in my power if not the law?’

Oddly, Regulus did.

‘Good,’ said Dumbledore when he’d nodded. ‘Now drink your tea. I do believe chocolate may also be in order.’

This time Regulus managed to take a small sip of the hot, soothing tea. He didn’t feel good or calm or remotely okay about any of it. But Dumbledore’s belief in him was enough to keep him from utter despair.

The Great Hall was filled with the noisy clang and clamour of breakfasting students, but James couldn’t eat. He’d barely touched his coffee. Regulus had said he’d be at breakfast but there had been no sign of him and the hour was almost up.

Things had been good between them since the Shrieking Shack. Almost perfect. James wasn’t foolish enough to think that their problems were done and dusted, but he’d been hoping for an uneventful week at least. And everything had been going swimmingly until this morning when Regulus hadn’t shown up.

‘Perhaps I ought to go check the room again,’ said James.

‘You already checked twenty minutes ago,’ said Remus. ‘He didn’t answer.’

‘He’s probably on the Quidditch pitch,’ said Sirius, who was in the midst of annihilating his scone. ‘I’m sure we’ll see him at lunch, Jamie.’

‘Or he’s gone to Hogsmeade,’ said Peter unhelpfully. ‘Hook up with a bloke, you know? Might’ve stayed the night.’

James cut him a look filled with utter venom. ‘Why, exactly, would my boyfriend need to hook up with a bloke?’

Peter shrugged. ‘I mean—’

‘Shut up, Wormtail,’ said Sirius, a little harshly.

‘I’m just saying.’

‘Well, don’t. Prongs is worried enough. And my brother is a lot of things, but flighty tart isn’t one of them.’

Remus nudged James gently. ‘Want to go get the map? See which room he’s gone into? He’s probably in the astronomy tower or something.’

‘That feels like stalking.’

‘Is that better or worse than giving yourself a conniption?’

James considered this.

‘Jamie.’ Peter nodded over James’ shoulder and everyone whirled around.

Professor McGonagall was making her way over to them. Unlike the rest of the faculty, she hadn’t been in the Great Hall all morning and seemed more tired than usual. ‘Mr Potter, Mr Black – come with me, please. Professor Dumbledore would like a word with both of you.’

James exchanged a worried look with Sirius as they rose to their feet in unison.

‘Let us know,’ said Remus as they passed.

Sirius squeezed his shoulder before leading James away from the table.

‘Is it Regulus?’ he and Sirius asked in tandem as soon as they were in the hall.

McGonagall looked oddly perturbed, but not like she was bearing horrible news. Indeed, her words were worrying, but inconclusive: ‘I am not entirely sure. I’m sorry, boys.’

When they reached Dumbledore’s office minutes later, James was not prepared for the sight of Regulus, blood on his face and hands and shirt, mud splattered all over his jeans and coat, deep cuts darkening his face amidst scratches, welts and burns.

James and Sirius reached him at the same time; James kneeled before him, taking his hands, whilst Sirius took his face in hand and inspected him worriedly.

‘What happened?’ Sirius looked to Dumbledore when Regulus didn’t answer. In truth he didn’t seem capable of it, which worried James even more.

‘Please, sit.’ Dumbledore conjured two more chairs with a casual wave of his wand.

Sirius took one of the chairs, his hand remaining on Regulus’ back protectively. James hesitated, not wanting to move even an inch.

‘You okay?’ he murmured, searching Regulus’ face for answers. He was not expecting these words to break Regulus, whose face crumpled as sobs began to wrack his chest. ‘Love …’ The word slipped out unintentionally; James had never called anyone that before.

‘I’m sorry.’ Regulus’ apology came between stifled cries. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hey. Hey.’ James caught his face gently in his hands. ‘Sorry for what?’

‘Your mum …’

James stared at him, but when no more answers came, glanced at Dumbledore. ‘My mum? What about my mum?’

‘Mr Potter, if you’ll allow me to explain, I think Regulus has had enough for today,’ said Dumbledore, once again gesturing to the vacant seat.

James bowed his head in agreement, but still did not move to the chair. He was stuck with fear, and his hand felt fused with Regulus’, who was holding onto him just as tightly.

Dumbledore continued, ‘Has your father spoken to you about what’s been happening at the Ministry?’

The deaths and disappearances of those who opposed Voldemort – or those who were simply Muggle-born – were all but common knowledge at this point. James nodded, heart hammering painfully in his chest.

‘Your father witnessed a terrible atrocity a few weeks ago. The deaths of over a dozen witches and wizards. He was going to visit a business partner and happened upon the scene by accident. Wrong place, wrong time. He was too late to help the poor souls, but he identified several Death Eaters who had taken their masks off. They were arrested earlier this week; they were tried and sent to Azkaban yesterday.’

This was all news to James, but he waited for Dumbledore to continue as if it weren’t.

‘Tonight, two Death Eaters took it upon themselves, after a dinner at the Black home, to take revenge.’

‘Our home?’ Sirius rubbed a hand over his mouth, disgusted. ‘Figures.’

‘Who was it?’ asked James.

‘Darius Mulciber and Rodolphus Lestrange.’

Regulus’ gaze snapped to Dumbledore. ‘Bella’s husband?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck.’

James and Sirius looked between them, baffled.

Dumbledore continued, ‘Kreacher overheard this plan and informed Regulus, who took it upon himself to warn the Potters.’

‘You went to help my parents?’ James wasn’t sure it was possible to love Regulus more than he did in that moment.

‘I tried,’ croaked Regulus. ‘They were right behind me. Your dad wasn’t there and your mum didn’t have her wand.’

James cursed silently. His mother tended to leave her wand in the kitchen drawer when she was at home. He and his dad had told her not to a hundred times, but she always argued that she didn’t need it around the house.

‘They broke in,’ Regulus continued. ‘Attacked us. Attacked your mum.’ His face screwed up as more tears formed. ‘She saw Lestrange coming and we ducked – he killed Mulciber. And then he turned to us.’ Regulus shook his head, black eyes wide. ‘I killed him. I killed him.’

James squeezed his hand. ‘And my mum?’

‘In St Mungo’s recovering,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Your father is with her.’

‘Can we go see her?’

Dumbledore inclined his head. ‘I assumed you would want to. Regulus, horrid as it sounds, I suggest not cleaning up quite yet.’

‘Why?’ asked Sirius.

‘Because the Aurors have a complicated view of your family. Sometimes harsh visual truths do more than words ever could.’

Regulus stared at him in absolute horror. ‘I can’t speak to the Aurors. There might be a spy for the Dark Lord. Our parents will pay the price for that. What happened tonight was the tip of the iceberg and while I may not adore my family, I am not selling them out.’

After a moment, Dumbledore agreed. ‘Then perhaps it’s best to be less conspicuous. I will tell the Aurors to direct all questions to me.’

‘Thank you, Professor.’

‘I’ll do it,’ said James, finally finding the will to stand.

Tugging Regulus to his feet, James cleaned his clothes with a murmured spell. Without the blood and muck, Regulus looked bone-weary but unbowed. James then drew Regulus into his arms, burying his face in his neck. ‘Thank you,’ he breathed. ‘Thank you so much.’ And then he kissed Regulus soundly. It felt like a promise, like it mattered more than anything else he might offer as comfort.

It seemed to work, too, because shortly thereafter Regulus told Dumbledore he was ready to return to St Mungo’s and the four left the office behind, swept up in Dumbledore’s magic.

It was hours later when at last Dumbledore finished relaying everything to the small group of wizards standing in Mrs Potter’s hospital room. Regulus was not remotely prepared for the moment Mr Potter crossed the room and yanked him into a bear hug. Having rarely, if ever, been hugged by his own parents, Regulus patted him awkwardly on the back until he was able to sit back down beside his brother. Sirius put a reassuring hand on his knee and squeezed in solidarity.

Whatever complications and unsaid frustrations remained between them, Sirius had not moved even arm’s length from his side since arriving in Dumbledore’s office. He kept a firm, steady grip on Regulus the entire time and seemed to have appointed himself bodyguard. Which, if Regulus was being honest, felt nice.

‘I’ll handle this with the Ministry,’ said Kingsley once Dumbledore had finished speaking. ‘See if we can’t leave the boy out of it.’

Regulus smiled tightly, grateful.

Alastair and Crouch went with Kingsley, leaving only Dumbledore, the Potters and the two Black brothers alone with Mrs Potter.

‘Is she going to be all right?’ James was sitting beside his mother, who looked fast asleep but was really in a magically induced state of unconsciousness to allow for faster healing.

‘She’ll be fine,’ said Mr Potter, and even just hearing that loosened something inside Regulus. ‘The doctor says she should wake up in a day or so. Mostly blood loss, but they want to make sure the spells left no lasting impact.’

Regulus knew from experience that there likely would be some lasting impact and his heart ached with empathy.

A sudden crack made them all start.

Kreacher had returned.

Regulus immediately slid out of the chair to his knees and wrapped his arms around the house elf. In the hours since he’d left Kreacher, he’d been sick with worry that someone back home had found out about the tip off and Kreacher would pay the price.

‘Did you get back unnoticed?’

‘Kreacher had to prepare breakfast and was delayed,’ he explained. ‘But Kreacher is undiscovered.’

Regulus beamed at him. ‘You’re my hero, Kreach.’

‘Mine, too.’ James was beside them now. He knelt down and offered his hand to Kreacher. ‘Thank you, Mr Kreacher.’

Kreacher eyed him uncertainly, but at Regulus’ smile, accepted the gesture and shook his hand. Regulus knew James was only the second wizard to ever treat Kreacher with the respect he deserved. But then, to Regulus’ joy, Mr Potter also came forward to thank Kreacher. He even went so far as to hug him, which seemed to totally discombobulate the wary elf.

‘Kreacher.’ It was Sirius, and Regulus tensed, expecting scorn. To his – and indeed Kreacher’s – surprise, Sirius said, ‘You did good, Kreach. You did really good. I’m sorry I was always such a dick to you. I hope one day you can forgive me.’

Kreacher weighed this suggestion and nodded, but Regulus knew there were too many years of ill treatment between them for Kreacher to forgive and forget so quickly. But it was a start.

‘Kreacher must go back, Master Regulus,’ said Kreacher, glancing at Regulus with far more warmth than he showed Sirius. ‘Just wanting to check you’re safe.’

‘Cheers, Kreach. You too. Come by later if you can.’

‘If I can.’

Kreacher vanished with a crack.

‘I was wrong about him,’ said Sirius quietly.

Too tired to chastise his brother for behaviour he was at least acknowledging and trying to mend, Regulus reclaimed his chair without responding. His head was beginning to throb; all he wanted to do was sleep. He almost asked to be taken back to Hogwarts, but he wanted to see if and when Mrs Potter would wake and it was clear James was going nowhere.

Before taking his leave, Dumbledore assured them the hospital was filled with watchful guards, all at the ready. He also helpfully transfigured the chairs into a large, squishy sofa that felt almost as good to sink into as a bed.

Sometime after that, curled up beside his brother, his head on Sirius’ shoulder, eyes on the Potter family, Regulus finally fell asleep.

Chapter Text

James had never known his father to be a worrier. Nor had he ever seen Fleamont cry. Not in all the years of his childhood, which had, he would admit, been stable and privileged. His father was generally reserved about most things.

Both of these facts changed during his mother’s stay at St Mungo’s.

For two days, James sat beside his father and waited for his mother to wake up. And for two days, Regulus and Sirius stayed with them, family in the eyes of both Potter men. Sirius had been a member of the family since James was eleven as far as the boys had always been concerned, and his parents had called Sirius their second son for so long James hardly remembered a time they hadn’t. And for his part, Sirius threw himself into taking care of all of them, going to fetch food, newspapers, books and distractions, and gathering updates for the members of the Order of the Phoenix – Dumbledore’s answer to the Death Eaters – who had stationed themselves around the hospital to keep guard.

Part of James had fretted over how his parents might welcome Regulus into the family, but whatever doubts he secretly harboured vanished into laughable impossibility in those hours in St Mungo’s.

Fleamont’s focus flitted from checking on his wife, to checking on James and Sirius, to thanking Regulus and constantly asking if he was all right and if there was anything he needed. Regulus, in contrast, seemed in a state of shock. He spoke when spoken to and ate when prompted to, but mostly he sat in silence, staring at Euphemia or the wall with wide eyes, leg bouncing or fingers drumming. He did not truly snap back to himself until, on the third day, Euphemia finally opened her eyes.

Everything passed in a blur of tears after that.

By the time Dumbledore returned to bring them personally back to Hogwarts, Euphemia was able to sit up and greet him with a smile. Dumbledore kissed her hand, told her she looked more radiant than ever, and suggested she never leave her wand in the kitchen drawer again, which made all of them laugh ruefully.

‘Be good, boys,’ Fleamont told them as they gathered their coats, cloaks and piles of books and newspapers. ‘We’ll see you all at Christmastime.’

Sirius hugged him tightly, far more comfortable with this set up than Regulus. ‘Love ya, Dad.’

Fleamont beamed proudly at him. He was never not delighted when Sirius called him that and had, Sirius once told James, tears in his eyes, confided to Sirius that he’d always wanted more children and was happy to adopt Sirius.

After releasing Sirius and patting him fondly on the cheek, Fleamont then turned to Regulus. ‘I can never thank you enough,’ he said, voice thick with emotion. ‘You are coming to Christmas with your brother, aren’t you?’

Regulus rubbed the back of his neck. After days of no sleep, his black hair hung lank and messy, heightening his already haunted appearance. ‘If – if you’re sure?’

Euphemia held out her hand and squeezed his when Regulus reached out. ‘You’re family, Regulus. You and Sirius. Please come.’

Regulus bowed his head. ‘I hope you feel better soon, Mrs Potter.’

His uncertainty was utterly endearing to James, but he wished he could reassure Regulus that none of them loved temporarily. That there were no conditions on his acceptance into the Potter family. But James knew, after years of being Sirius’ best friend, that believing in the words of adults when your own parents never had given you a reason to took a very, very long time.

When they arrived back in Hogwarts – after Dumbledore, Kingsley and Alastair escorted them personally to the Hogwarts Express – it was midmorning and all the students were already in class.

Sirius veered off immediately to find Remus and Peter and catch them up on everything that they’d missed.

Alone for the first time in days, the weight of it all fell heavily upon James and he stilled in the entrance hall. Squeezing Regulus’ hand, he cocked his head back towards the doorway. ‘Do you want some fresh air? Go for a walk?’

‘Merlin, yes.’

They walked hand in hand out of the castle and down the hill towards the lake. It was a lovely day, if a bit cold, and a fine frost covered the ground. The Whomping Willow seemed to delight in shaking off every fresh layer of snow, leaving a large mound encircling it. In the lake, the giant squid splashed languidly, unbothered by the chilly waters.

‘I still can’t believe you saved my mum.’ James raised Regulus’ hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. ‘You’re amazing.’

‘It—’

‘Is a big deal. Don’t brush it aside.’

Regulus ran his free hand through his hair, clenching at the roots.

‘Is it Lestrange that’s bothering you?’

‘I …’ Regulus made a face. ‘I don’t regret saving your mother. Not for a single second. And I – I know, I know he would have betrayed us all. I know it would have got us all killed if I let him go. Even if he’d gone to Azkaban, the secret would have got out. We’d never be safe again. But …’

‘But you killed him,’ said James softly.

‘Yeah.’

They were almost to the lake by this point and the breeze nudged them playfully along. The smell of smoke from Hagrid’s hut tickled James’ nose and making him long for the cosiness of the holidays.

When they reached the bank of the lake, Regulus conjured a blanket and James enchanted several of the surrounding stones to radiate warmth. It melted the snow and warmed them almost instantly. Sitting down on the now toasty ground, James pulled Regulus gently back into his arms and between his legs, and held him close. Chin on his shoulder, arms around his waist. He didn’t think there was anything he liked more than wrapping himself around Regulus and breathing him in.

‘It’s not even December and already I dread summer,’ he murmured.

‘Why?’

‘I graduate. You’ll have another year here alone.’ The thought made him sick to his stomach and, though he would never do it, he had day-dreamed of deliberately failing his exams just to be allowed to repeat the year. It was a silly, self-sabotaging fantasy, but he couldn’t shake the growing fear he had about leaving Regulus behind.

‘That’s if I return.’

James frowned at him. ‘Why wouldn’t you?’

Regulus shrugged. ‘The war isn’t coming, James. The war is here. If everyone I love is outside of Hogwarts, in danger, I’m not staying behind twiddling my thumbs. I’m not worried about the prestigious job that might not want me if I’ve only six years of schooling. I’m worried about everyone dying at the hands of the Death Eaters. I’m worried about Voldemort destroying everything I love. School means nothing compared to that possibility. I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but you, Sirius – everyone.’

James didn’t know what to say to that, so he opted to lean in and kiss Regulus, which always proved a good idea.

They remained there for another hour, watching the giant squid splash about in the distance.

If it were up to James, the afternoon would have lasted forever – just him and Regulus, together, the troubles of the world far, far away.

The letter came two days later at breakfast.

‘That’s the Malfoy owl,’ said Sirius, his mug of coffee stilling halfway to his mouth as he watched the large owl approach.

‘At least it’s not from your mum,’ said Peter. Beside him, Marlene grimaced in sympathy.

Sirius raised his coffee mug to Peter. ‘True.’

Regulus, who was halfway through his omelette, set his fork down wearily and opened the black envelope with mounting trepidation. His hands didn’t shake, but his heart slammed so hard in his chest that he felt like hyperventilating.

My dearest cousin,

How are you? I miss you so much that I don’t quite know how to put it into words, but the horrors of late have reminded me that we should not let our loved ones slip through our fingers, nor should we allow silly dramatics to drive a wedge between us.

I’ve been wondering why I’d not heard from you all year as I’ve always loved your letters, and I’m assuming you didn’t feel I’d want you to. Please do not think that for a moment. I’ve thought of you often, but my job has taken up so much of my time that I keep forgetting to write. That is entirely my fault and I hope you will forgive me. I also hope you will write to me more going forward. I know this business with your parents has been appallingly unpleasant, but you are still my favourite cousin and that will never change. For what it’s worth, James Potter is a good match for anyone – and you are by far the best match he could have hoped for.

I doubt you’ve heard, for it’s not made the papers yet, but Bella’s husband was killed this week. We don’t know how, but Bella is understandably distraught. The funeral for Rodolphus is tomorrow and we want you there. Sirius is welcome, too, though I doubt he will come. But please do extend the invitation to him, for I love him too and want you both nearby. We need our family now more than ever and I want to see you. See that you are well. Whole. That your parents’ have not stamped out your bright light. You’ve always been my stars, the pair of you. Sometimes I think your names were determined long before either of you were born. The bright lights of the Black family.

We are not our parents, my beloved cousin, and all wizards and witches must stick together. I do not care who you love, only that you love. And I do not care what your parents think of Sirius – he, too, is family, and I love him as much as I love you.

Please come. And please do write to me.

All my love,
Cissy

When he finished and looked up, the four Marauders were all watching him. It took Regulus a moment to even remember how to form words. Narcissa and Andromeda had always been so kind and wonderful to him. It didn’t surprise him that they’d not heard of the chaos and goings-on at Hogwarts in the last couple of months and he was relieved to know that he had not lost his entire family due to his relationship.

‘What this time?’ asked Sirius.

‘Cissy wants me to come to the funeral.’

Sirius choked a disbelieving laugh. ‘Well, she can keep wishing.’

‘Cissy isn’t heartless, Sirius. She loves us.’ Regulus held out the letter. ‘See for yourself.’

Sirius took it and skimmed its contents before replying. ‘She wouldn’t be so magnanimous if she knew where your loyalty is.’

‘My loyalty is to the ones I love, which is no lie. Which includes her.’ Regulus felt himself getting defensive on his cousin’s behalf, but it couldn’t be helped. Yes, Narcissa had married Lucius and often turned a blind eye to her husband’s behaviour. But like them Narcissa had grown up hearing the words of their parents and being reminded every day that straying from the Black family path would lead to being cut off and despised at best. He knew better than anyone how much that could destroy you.

‘Love.’ James sounded cautious, wary. He lowered his voice and continued, ‘Even if she’s being entirely genuine, going to the funeral of someone you killed is asking for trouble. You know it is.’

And not going could result in even more trouble. Especially if the Dark Lord expected his presence and the Death Eaters reported his absence. But he didn’t know how to say that – still had not told anyone about the meeting in Hogsmeade – and so he nodded and said, ‘You’re right,’ and watched the worry leave Sirius and James’ faces.

Remus eyed him for a second longer, but returned to his pancakes without voicing his thoughts.

Regulus spent most of that day going over the pros-and-cons of attending the funeral dozens of times. He even made a pro-and-con list, although he quickly incinerated it out of fear of it ending up in the wrong hands. It was around mid-afternoon, as Potions class wrapped up, that he finally made his decision.

He waited until the others had trailed out of the classroom before approaching Professor Slughorn’s desk, his throat suddenly much too dry and feeling slightly dizzy with guilt.

‘Sir,’ he said, and he sounded strange to his own ears, ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my cousin’s husband was killed a couple of days ago.’

Slughorn’s friendly expression shifted to utter empathy. ‘Oh, my dear boy, I am so sorry.’

‘Thank you, sir. My cousins have asked me to attend the funeral tomorrow and Narcissa Malfoy has said she can pick me up from King’s Cross personally. Would that be possible?’

‘Of course, my dear boy, of course,’ said Slughorn. ‘I’m so very sorry for your loss. You have my deepest condolences.’

These words sent an almost unbearable wave of guilt through Regulus. ‘Thank you, sir. I should only be gone for a few hours.’

‘Is your brother attending the funeral with you?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Would you like a professor to accompany you?’

‘No, sir. My family are trying on the best of occasions.’

Slughorn chuckled at this. ‘Aren’t they all?’

Regulus nodded, but did not elaborate. ‘Will you tell Dumbledore?’

‘Of course, dear boy. Of course. Give your family my best. If you see Lucius, do tell him I’ve been thinking of him. Such a bright young man!’

Swallowing the bubble of disgust that rose in his throat at the mere mention of Lucius, Regulus bowed his head in thanks and departed.

In the corridor, to his surprise, he found James leaning against the opposite wall, leg propped up, tie askew, hair a mess. He was the most beautiful thing Regulus had ever seen and despite the guilt churning like bile in his stomach, he felt better.

‘Hi, boyfriend,’ said James cheerfully.

Regulus walked over. ‘For the record, I like love and boyfriend better than little serpent and little fox.’

‘Good. Get used to them.’ James hooked a finger in his belt loop and tugged him close. ‘How was your day, then, boyfriend?’

‘Better now.’

‘That’s what I like to hear.’ James pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, then slung an arm around his neck and steered him out of the dungeons and back up the stairs into the main part of the castle. He talked about the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw and Regulus offered his thoughts on the players. He said nothing of the funeral, nor did he intend to.

That evening, Regulus joined the Marauders, Lily, Arthur, Mary, Alice and Marlene in an empty classroom. They transfigured the desk into cushions and blankets, and spread out across the floor. Everyone ‘aww’d’ when Marlene curled up beside Peter, who kept blushing yet seemed enormously pleased. It was, Regulus later learned, the first time Peter had ever brought a girlfriend around the group. They were a cute couple, and Peter seemed more comfortable in his own skin than he had previously, a change Regulus understood. Where Sirius and James had always been exceedingly comfortable in who they were, Peter, like Regulus and Remus, struggled with the idea that someone could love him just as he was. Regulus was glad he finally had a chance to realise that for himself.

Unsurprisingly, they went off topic often, distracting themselves from their studies with questions of gossip or politics. Regulus stayed out of both. Yet it was largely a perfect evening and he found himself savouring every second he got to spend with James and Sirius. But every once in a while, his mind would return to that night and green light would flash before his eyes and a pang of pain that felt like a remnant of the Cruciatus curse would shoot through him, making him clench his jaw hard and breathe through his nose lest he scream.

It was almost midnight when James walked him back to the seventh floor. Sir Nicholas and the Grey Lady passed by them, nodding a greeting; Regulus waved to them, but was too tired to stop for a conversation.

When he and James reached the Room of Requirement, they lingered outside trading kisses and low laughs. Despite his exhaustion, Regulus found it difficult to leave. Not just because he didn’t want to. No. He was afraid to. He increasingly feared a Death Eater would crawl out of the woodwork and kill James. Kill them all. Perhaps that was a little irrational inside the castle’s walls, but he could not shake his fears. If he was being honest with himself, he doubted he would ever be able to relax again. Hearing his parents’ stories growing up about death and war were nothing now that he had lived it. Now that he had killed someone.

‘Want company?’ James grinned wickedly as he played with the top button on Regulus’ jeans, his mind evidently far more at ease than Regulus’ own.

‘Something tells me you do not have rest in mind, Potter.’

James tugged him into a slow, languid, self-satisfied kiss. ‘Mm,’ he hummed against Regulus’ lips. ‘No, not rest. Not right away.’

Regulus smirked. ‘Perhaps tomorrow. I’m wrecked. And getting a headache.’

Nodding understandingly, James stepped back. ‘Sweet dreams, love.’

‘You too.’

Regulus watched James wander off, a smile on his lips and fear in his heart.

He did not sleep that night.

The weather in Hogsmeade was terribly cold the next morning, but Professor Slughorn insisted on waiting with Regulus at the station. Slughorn seemed to worry about him, although he did not pry into the mess that was Regulus’ life, which was much appreciated. Flurries of snow buffeted across the platform and chills scuttled up and down his skin. Moments later, a loud, sharp whistle signalled the train’s arrival and it chugged steadily into view.

‘Right,’ said Slughorn, offering him a sympathetic smile. ‘The train back will leave King’s Cross at half past seven. If you need more time with your family, send word to Dumbledore.’

‘Yes, sir. I’ll be back on time, though.’

‘Good lad. Ah, Mr Rosier, there you are.’

Regulus turned sharply to his right, heart sinking at the sight of an exhausted-looking Evan Rosier making his way over.

The Rosiers, Blacks, Lestranges and Malfoys all shared one family connection or other. But for some reason Regulus hadn’t thought he’d see Rosier. It simply hadn’t occurred to him, which said a lot about how much their friendship had disintegrated.

The train stopped in front of them and the doors slid open.

‘Be good, boys,’ said Slughorn sternly. He raised a pointed eyebrow at Evan. ‘I want no trouble, am I understood?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Evan.

‘Good. I would hate to have to assign a detention following a funeral, but I will if I must. So do not let me down. And give your family my condolences, both of you.’

Regulus nodded to him before stepping onto the train. He left Evan behind and went to an empty compartment at the far end.

He spent the journey glaring out the window but Evan left him alone.

When Regulus stepped off the train hours later at King’s Cross, Narcissa and Andromeda, his favourite cousins, were waiting for him.

‘Reggie!’ cried Andromeda, throwing her arms around him. ‘I’ve missed you, kid.’

‘Good to see you, Reg,’ said Narcissa in turn, also embracing him. ‘I’m glad you’re here. Both of you.’ She smiled kindly at Evan.

Andromeda ruffled Regulus’ hair affectionately. ‘You got taller.’

‘Did I?’

‘A giant.’

He smiled at the pair of them.

The foursome left King’s Cross and headed out into the busy streets of wintry London. The city looked like a painting and would have been a welcoming sight had his mood been less dour. An enchanted stagecoach awaited them on the curb; when they were all inside, it shot into the air, invisible to the millions of Muggles below and a far more pleasant way to travel than navigating the streets and motorways below.

‘So,’ said Andromeda, ‘is it true you’re dating James Potter?’

Regulus inclined his head.

Narcissa raised an elegantly shaped eyebrow. ‘Then why haven’t you brought him?’

‘And inflict our family upon him?’

Narcissa’s expression softened. ‘You know I’d never.’

‘I know, Cissy. It’s not your reaction I worried about.’

She sighed unhappily.

‘Never mind your parents,’ said Andromeda. ‘We’d love to take you and James to dinner sometime.’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled uncertainly. ‘Cheers, Andy.’

‘Didn’t the Dark Lord give you both his blessing?’ Narcissa looked impressed.

‘I mean, I don’t think he broadcasted it. He told me to pay them no mind as he didn’t mind.’

‘Still.’ She shook her head, marvelling. ‘I can’t believe you were brave enough to tell him. I’d have been too scared.’

Regulus was, as ever, vigilant with how he presented everything to his family – and the Death Eaters in general. At length, thinking his lies out several steps ahead, he said, ‘The Dark Lord understands that family and magic come first. He does not care about my relationship with James.’

‘Even after Mulciber’s dad?’ This, from Evan. ‘This funeral is because of the Potters.’

Regulus affixed him with a cool look. ‘James has as much to do with his parents as I do with mine. As the Dark Lord and his parents. The Potters will fall in line once their son does, I have no doubt. James loves me. The Dark Lord is meeting him this summer after graduation and is giving me until then to bring as many Gryffindors to our side as possible.’

The words felt poisonous, but he watched, relieved, as any doubt left Evan and Narcissa’s eyes. Andromeda, in contrast, looked upset by his words and he knew every lie he told risked the loss of the good opinion of the few family members he sought respect from.

But they had to live first.

The stagecoach brought them to the expansive Lestrange Estate just after lunch time. The countryside was dusted in a layer of fine frost, but the day was sunny enough and not too bitterly cold. They landed smoothly and the doors opened seconds later. They filed out one after the other, each shivering in turn. The stagecoach had been comfortably warm and the return to the winter weather felt more cold than it actually was as a result.

Regulus offered Andromeda his arm with a hopeful smile and, to his relief, she took it.

‘Wait,’ said Narcissa before they could walk on. ‘You can’t wear that, Reg.’

With a crisp spell, Narcissa switched out his school robes for an outfit that clearly cost a hundred times the price.

‘Lucius,’ she explained when he raised a curious eyebrow. ‘He won’t miss it – I’ve bought him dozens. And now not even your parents can chastise your appearance.’

Regulus kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you, Cissy.’

Dozens of witches and wizards, all in black robes of the highest fashion - and the most ludicrously priced - already milled about the grounds when they walked through the front gates and made their way towards the enormous, ancient manor.

Nori, the Lestrange family house elf, opened the door for them when they reached the front step and offered to take their coats.

‘I’m all right, thank you, Nori,’ he said with a smile. ‘How are you?’

‘Nori is well, sir,’ she squeaked.

‘Kreacher sends his regards.’

He did not miss the way she blushed at his words.

As Evan went to greet his parents, and Narcissa wandered off to find Lucius and Bella, Regulus and Andromeda lingered near the doorway beside Nori.

‘Don’t leave me alone with these people,’ he whispered. ‘Please.’

‘Back at you.’

There was no sign of Voldemort, but Regulus immediately spotted half a dozen Death Eaters. There was also the Minister for Magic, whose presence deeply concerned Regulus, and he filed it away to tell Dumbledore later.

‘We have an hour,’ said Andromeda. ‘Fancy a walk?’

‘Yes. Lead the way.’

The Lestrange Estate, centuries old, was a stunning place even if its owners were rather loathsome. The large gardens led down a hill towards an open field which to one side housed a cemetery and on the other was the start of a great, ancient forest. He could see the flickering of a ghost near the headstones and raised his hand in greeting, but the ghost turned away and disappeared into the tomb.

Carrying on, Regulus and Andromeda wound their way through the hedges.

‘Do you really believe that?’ she asked. ‘That blood matters so much? That magic makes us better than those without?’

‘You know me better than that, Andy. I haven’t changed.’

She relaxed noticeably. ‘Oh, thank Merlin. I was scared for a minute there.’

‘Surviving this war is somehow more difficult than surviving our family, if you can believe it.’

Laughing sardonically, Andromeda hugged him. ‘Well, since it’s just us out here, can I tell you something?’

He covered her hand with his own. ‘Of course. My lips and mind are sealed to all.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

They wound their way around a rose bush and stilled in front of a gorgeous flower garden.

‘I’m pregnant.’

Regulus gaped at her. ‘What?’

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ she implored.

‘I won’t,’ he said hastily. ‘Of course I won’t. But why—’

‘He’s a Muggle.’

Regulus’ heart sank, but out of fear for her – and the father to be – and sadness that he couldn’t be more openly joyful for them. Still, he managed to force a smile and picked her up, spinning her in a circle.

‘That’s wonderful,’ he said when he set her back down. ‘What do you need?’

‘Just a friend who won’t disown me.’

‘Never. And your child is going to be amazing.’

Tears of happiness filled her eyes and she buried her face in his shoulder.

‘You’re the only family I have who knows.’

Regulus knew not even Narcissa’s love for her sister would extend to a Muggle brother in law and his heart broke for her.

‘Anything you need,’ he promised. ‘Ask and I’ll do it.’

Whatever else happened that day, however mad James and Sirius undoubtedly were with him by now, he was glad he came. If only to have had the chance to keep someone he loved from feeling the loneliness that had driven him to drink a killing potion.

The funeral was an immensely uncomfortable affair. Regulus kept expecting Lestrange’s ghost to appear and reveal the truth of what had happened. But Rodolphus never showed.

Regulus stood between Narcissa and Andromeda throughout the funeral. Lucius passed the odd scowl his way, but remained on his best behaviour. Bellatrix did not cry throughout the service, but she radiated fury. Like a huntress plotting her next move.

The first she spoke to Regulus was as they walked away from the graveyard. She fell in beside him and looped her arm through his. She smelled strongly of wine and lavender and cigarettes.

‘Will you come to dinner?’ she asked, leaning close to him. ‘I want you there, cousin.’

‘The Hogwarts Express leaves in an hour,’ he said apologetically. ‘Otherwise I would, Bells.’

Bellatrix waved this off. ‘I’ll have the coach take you back directly first thing in the morning. I want you here tonight. Please, Reggie?’

Regulus desperately did not want to stay, but the guilt of what he’d done to her husband overpowered his disgust of her general personality. ‘All right,’ he found himself saying. ‘I’ll stay the night.’

Bella kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, darling. How have you been? The Dark Lord told me he had a good meeting with you.’

‘We did,’ said Regulus smoothly. ‘So much gets lost in translation when gossip runs amok. I’m glad I was able to clear the air.’

‘As am I. I want you to know that I’ve got something wonderful in mind for your first assignment after graduation. I can’t wait for you to join us properly.’

Regulus would rather drink a vat of rat piss but he smiled in agreement nonetheless. ‘You’ll write to me, won’t you? So I don’t worry? I miss chatting with you.’

‘Absolutely.’ She squeezed him. ‘I told the Dark Lord I’m taking you under my wing once you’re free of Hogwarts and able to stretch your wings a bit. No one else gets to train my little cousin. I will make you his second favourite.’ She winked at him.

Fingers nudged at Regulus’ free hand and he glanced sideways to see Andromeda offering a look of secret solidarity. He took her hand and held tight as Bellatrix prattled on about all the things they would get to do together once he was officially a Death Eater.

With every word that left Bella’s lips, Regulus’ trepidation mounted - but so too did his determination to stop her. To stop them all.

‘I’m gonna kill him.’

Remus paused his notetaking and looked up as Sirius and James stormed into the common room, both furious.

‘Did I miss something?’ he asked, hoping he had not. His homework was too large for more chaos.

Sirius threw up his hands. ‘He went to Lestrange’s funeral! Without telling us! With Evan fucking Rosier!’

Remus opened and closed his mouth. A reaction did not come. ‘He probably felt obligated to. I would have done.’

‘You would? Why?’

‘If death came easy to him, wouldn’t you worry more?’

Sirius and James traded scowls.

‘Dumbledore’s got legal custody of him,’ Remus continued. ‘Your parents can’t take him back. Dumbledore won’t let them. And Voldemort won’t show himself at a funeral, surely? Not when he’s wanted across Britain.’

But even as he said it, a dark feeling brewed like acid in Remus’ chest.

The dinner was not torturous, but it was deeply uncomfortable. Regulus ignored his parents entirely and, thankfully, Bellatrix hadn’t been in one of her messing moods and seated them together. Instead he was between Bella and Andromeda, with Narcissa and Lucius directly across from them. Rabastan, Rodolphus’ brother, sat on Lucius’ other side. Evan was further down, beside his parents. He looked like he deeply regretted coming.

It was as the conversation about the next round of Ministry elections died down that Rabastan directed his attention to Regulus. ‘How are things at Hogwarts?’

Regulus finished his goblet of wine before answering. ‘Won my Quidditch match,’ he said, the rush of alcohol going straight to his head. What was he supposed to say? ‘I murdered your brother in between essays’? Casting about quickly for a new topic, he added, ‘Invented a potion.’

‘Oh?’

Regulus summoned the phial from his book bag and passed it across the table to Rabastan, repeating the same instructions to him that he’d given Remus.

‘Impressive,’ said Rabastan. ‘I see why the Dark Lord is so taken with your prowess.’

‘We’re all very proud of our Reggie,’ said Bella, refilling Regulus’ goblet with a wink. ‘He’s our new secret weapon.’

‘Is that right?’ Rabastan’s dark eyes searched Regulus’ face thoughtfully. ‘And how does gardening increase our fortunes?’

‘The Dark Lord’s edicts are not limited to controlling the Muggles, cousin,’ said Regulus succinctly. ‘We are meant to be bettering this world – improve it for future generations of witches and wizards to come. Make it radiant. That potion you’re holding will grow a garden. A forest. I can maximise its potential and rebuild the world the Muggles have so utterly ruined.’

‘By siding with blood traitors?’ This, from Lucius.

Narcissa hissed her husband’s name in furious admonishment.

Regulus raised an eyebrow coolly at him. ‘You mean my relationships with the Gryffindors? That is not treachery, Lucius. That was to avoid the ostracism of my own House. When my former friends cast me out, other pureblood wizards stood by me. I have hidden none of this from the Dark Lord.’

Lucius scoffed.

‘I highly doubt the Dark Lord gave a fag his blessing,’ said Mr Rosier.

Regulus turned towards him, wrath spreading through his veins like a drug. ‘Are you doubting the word of Lord Voldemort?’

‘When it comes from the mouth of filth, yes, I do.’

‘Careful, Mikhail,’ said Bella dangerously. ‘I was there. The Dark Lord trusts Regulus. Your opinion is of no matter.’

‘It is when my son lives with a pervert.’

Regulus wished it didn’t hurt, because he hated Mr Rosier and didn’t give a toss about his opinion, but it did hurt. It hurt more that his parents said nothing. That Bellatrix, the craziest of them all, was the only one speaking in his defence.

And then—

‘Father,’ said Evan quietly. ‘Don’t—’

‘Quiet.’ Mr Rosier shot his son a look of warning. ‘Are you friends with fags, now?’

‘I – I –’

‘Enough.’

Everyone started, their attention going towards the fireplace where Lord Voldemort stepped out of the flames, his great snake Nagini slithering out after him.

‘My lord,’ the entire room chorused in greeting.

Voldemort walked to the table and surveyed the group of mourners. ‘Bella,’ he said softly. ‘Please accept my condolences. Rest assured we will avenge Rodolphus a thousandfold. His sacrifice will not be in vain.’

Bella’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you, my lord. That means the world to me.’

Voldemort inclined his head. He walked around the table, almost gliding, and took Rodolphus’ now vacant chair. He then gestured to Regulus. ‘Did you have a response for Mikhail, Regulus?’

‘No,’ said Regulus, despite wanting to walk around the table and beat the shit out of the man. ‘The only opinion here that matters to me is yours. And you know the truth. If Rosier doesn’t believe your word, that’s between you and him.’

This drew sharp looks from everyone in the room.

Voldemort’s mouth curved in a mockery of a smile as his otherworldly eyes shifted from Regulus to Mr Rosier. ‘Regulus has already obtained my blessing to bring the purebloods who are not so charmed with our methods over to our side. He illuminated a good point – we have alienated our fellow wizards and witches. I am not the man to sway them, I am humble enough to admit that. That is why Regulus here is going to do what I cannot – charm them.’

Mr Rosier tutted. ‘By whoring himself out?’

‘Crucio!’

It came, of all people, from Bella. She whipped her wand through the air like she was actually cracking a whip and the curse hit Mr Rosier directly in the chest.

Screams echoed horribly around the room, burrowing into Regulus’ ears and reviving his own memories of being tortured with the same curse. It took great willpower for him to keep from vomiting, and even greater effort to reach over and put his hand atop Bella’s.

‘You proved your point, Bells. He can’t deal with the Minister tomorrow if you incapacitate him, much as he deserves it. And we don’t need to deal with replacing him. It would be such a hassle with Dumbledore trying to get his lackies into positions of power.’

With a petulant pout, Bellatrix released Mr Rosier from her spell and slumped back in her chair. This elicited a chuckle from Voldemort, which in turn made her blush and smile.

Beside Mr Rosier, Evan had gone chalk-white. He hated his father, but he loved him still. When he finally met Regulus’ gaze, gratitude and apology blazed in his eyes.

‘Please apologise, Mikhail,’ said Voldemort, sounding totally bored with the entire scene. ‘That was quite rude.’

Mr Rosier cut Regulus a look of utter disgust, but ground out a barely audible apology.

Regulus nodded to him, mouth in a thin line of hate.

‘Show me that potion, Lestrange.’ Voldemort held out a pale, bony hand in Rabastan’s direction. Rabastan placed the phial in his palm. Voldemort examined it, lips pursed. ‘You made this?’ he said to Regulus after a moment.

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Do you have other inventions in mind?’

‘I do, my lord.’

‘Good.’ Voldemort nodded approvingly. ‘And how did James react to the attack on his mother? I imagine he wasn’t thrilled.’

It was a trick and everyone knew it.

‘He’s naturally upset,’ said Regulus breezily. ‘The trouble with the wizarding community fighting each other is that there are casualties from our own allies. That happens in war. James knows that.’

‘The Potters did have it coming.’

Somehow Regulus reined in his snort. ‘Mrs Potter is a pureblood witch who has done important research into the mystical elements of gemstones in an effort to help extend life. Her work is up there with Perenelle Flamel.’ He didn’t think he imagined the interest on Voldemort’s face at this and barrelled on quickly. ‘Mr Potter reported law breaking, my lord. If we want the wizarding community to obey laws in the future, we cannot punish them for obeying the laws now.’

‘We are above the law,’ said Mr Avery from down the table.

‘No,’ said Regulus. ‘We obey the Dark Lord’s law. They obey wizarding law. When the Dark Lord takes the Ministry, his law will be Ministry law. Think ahead. A populace does not handle mixed signals well and we are trying to create a world where the Dark Lord reigns. Where we usher in a new era for our people. The aim is not to so thoroughly obliterate this world that he reigns over ashes.’ You twat, he added silently.

When he looked back from Mr Avery to Voldemort, he found no reproach. ‘Regulus, my boy, you are going to make it very far one day if you carry on impressing me.’

Bella leaned over and kissed him fiercely on the cheek. Across the table, Narcissa winked proudly at him. But under the table, a shaking hand slipped into his own, and Andromeda squeezed in silent solidarity.

‘Regulus, please assure James Potter that the Death Eaters will not attack his parents again.’ Voldemort looked around the table as he said this. ‘A gesture of my personal forgiveness.’

It was not lost on Regulus the oddity of the situation.

Voldemort continued, ‘And next summer, I should like to meet him. James. And bring your brother, too. I have no time or desire to delve into family dramatics. If he speaks to me directly, tell him that I will hear what he has to say. Tell him of how I have listened to you. I do believe in second chances, especially for the young. Tell him I understand parents can be ... difficult, and am willing to put the past in the past.’ It was a rehashing of their previous conversation in Hogsmeade, but Regulus knew it was now for the benefit of the entire room.

He bowed his head. ‘Of course, my lord.’

‘And bring—’ Voldemort snapped his skeletal fingers as he searched for the name. ‘Remus. I will have work for him. He will have a job and respect amongst us that he will not find in the old magical community. Isn’t that right?’ This question he directed at the table.

‘Yes, my lord,’ everyone intoned.

‘I believe that will be easily done,’ said Regulus firmly. ‘But threats from Severus Snape are not helping.’

‘Is he still at it?’ asked Bellatrix. ‘It’s beginning to seem like he’s obsessed with you lot.’

‘I dare say he is. But it’s doing little to appeal our group to him when Snape’s going out of his way to make our lives miserable.’

‘I will speak with Severus.’ Voldemort’s cold glare flicked towards the Rosiers once more. ‘As for you, Evan, I see you lack courage. That is not an attractive quality in a wizard.’

Regulus remained still, but inside him his fear rose. Much as he wanted to punch Evan, he did not want Voldemort to extend his displeasure towards his old friend.

‘You are at my table,’ Voldemort continued. ‘This is no place for secrets, Evan. Come tell Regulus why you have been so unkind to him this year.’

‘My father hates him. Hates fags. He’d disown me for speaking to him, my lord.’

Even now, Regulus felt the words like a whip’s lash.

‘And?’

Evan’s blue eyes locked with Regulus’. He seemed to be begging Regulus to intervene. But Regulus didn’t have a clue what Voldemort was hinting at.

When the silence had dragged on too long, Evan finally whispered, ‘And I’m jealous.’

Clearly having already read his mind, Voldemort bowed his head. It seemed he took pleasure in exposing gossip. Which, Regulus noted, was rather an odd trait in such a ruthless man. He loved toying with people, which fit his general air of soullessness, but gossip seemed like something of a weakness. He wanted to know.

‘Matters of the heart have brought down many great wizards,’ said Voldemort. ‘Look what happened to Grindelwald. Rosier—’ He looked from son to father. ‘Save your anger for the Mudbloods. If your son’s only shame is that he loves a truly remarkable young wizard, I see no reason to condemn him. Do you?’

Regulus watched, horrified and amazed, as Mr Rosier bowed his head. ‘Of course, my lord,’ he said.

‘Excellent. Evan, I would like you to assist Regulus going forward. That shouldn’t be difficult, surely? Since you are so devoted to him.’

Evan looked like he’d just licked manure, but somehow also managed to nod.

‘Good boy.’ Voldemort glanced back at Regulus. ‘You’ve done impressive work for our cause thus far. Continue to impress me, Regulus. It is rare that anyone does.’

Bella sent Regulus another glowing look.

‘I will not fail you, my lord,’ said Regulus, inclining his head. ‘Thank you again for everything.’

‘I expect great things from you, little Black. Do not let me down.’

‘No, sir.’

Voldemort finally turned his attention to other matters, which were no less disturbing but at least were not focused on Regulus. As the Death Eaters talked, Regulus made a point of looking at each of them in turn, committing their words to memory so that he would have a clear recollection to give to Dumbledore later.

The hour was late and more than a few had stifled yawns by the time Voldemort stood and announced that he was taking his leave.

‘Bella, Regulus,’ he added as the others filed out. ‘Wait a moment.’ Once they were alone, he continued. ‘Bella, are you up for accompanying me to Germany this week? I should be glad of your keen … insight.’

‘Of course, my lord. Of course.’ Bella looked close to vibrating with pleasure at being asked. ‘You honour me.’

‘Good. Regulus, keep gathering friends to our cause. I would like as many graduates as possible by the end of the year. I have faith that I will not be disappointed in your efforts.’

‘I will of course, my lord.’

Voldemort smiled at them in turn, although it was more akin to a leer and did not reach his eyes. ‘This is why I like the young,’ he mused aloud. ‘The old grow complacent, comfortable. Caught up in their own stupidities and unable to see the big picture. They do not have the fire it will take to win this war.’

‘That is why we need you, my lord,’ said Bella ardently. ‘More so now than ever before. No one can see the path we must take better than you. No one can bring us to the heights of greatness that we need to remain there with so many soft hearts eating away at the proper order of things.’

‘And no one else ever shall.’

She made a gleeful noise. Almost a squeal.

With that, Voldemort left with Nagini.

‘I’m going to turn in,’ said Bella, squeezing Regulus’ hand. ‘See you in the morning, cousin.’ She kissed his cheek and he returned the gesture automatically, but he called after her before she could leave the room, unable to make sense of something Voldemort had said that everyone else passed over.

‘What did he mean? About Grindelwald?’

Bella’s smile revealed all her teeth. ‘The Dark Lord lived through that war. Rumour then was that Grindelwald could have truly changed things for the better if he hadn’t let his personal feelings get in the way.’

‘Personal feelings for who?’

‘Albus Dumbledore.’ She cackled. ‘Can you imagine?’

Regulus didn’t bother to hide his surprise. ‘Really?’

‘I know. Grindelwald had no standards. But don’t worry, cousin. James Potter is no blood traitor like Dumbledore. We’ll make sure of that.’ She winked at him. ‘The Dark Lord’s right. Blood and magic are the only things that matter. If James joins us, it would only strengthen our cause. The Potters are an old family. I told Rod not to go after Fleamont. As you said, he was following the law, stupid as it is. He had it coming really. You can tell James I said that. From here on in, I want us to be the best of friends.’

‘Cheers, Bella. I want the same. And safe travels tomorrow. Write to me, okay?’

She blew a kiss his way before disappearing around the corner.

Long after Regulus had gone to the guest room and crawled into the cold bed, he remained awake, pondering the night’s events. Going over each and every one of Voldemort’s words. He knew he – they – were missing something vital. Some piece of Voldemort’s plan that was hidden. And, for no other reason than a feeling, Regulus kept returning to his parting words.

And no one else ever shall.

Chapter Text

‘We need to talk.’

Remus’ eyes cut sideways; even cloaked in darkness, he could make out Sirius clearly. He’d been in the astronomy tower alone for the better part of an hour and hadn’t, at such a late hour, expected company. Although perhaps he should have. Sirius had been trying to talk to him alone for days now.

They had learned from Dumbledore that Regulus was at the funeral but he did not seem as panicked as the rest of them. All they could do was wait really. A fact which had not helped Remus’ already frayed mind. He hadn’t expected to be stressing over both Black brothers this year and it was wearing thin. And yet, he had never loved either of them more.

Sirius walked over and sat in front of him on the window seat.

Remus sighed heavily and drew his leg into his chest. ‘Talk about …’

‘Well I think it’s pretty evident that we are not “just friends” at this point, Moony.’

‘Sirius—’

‘Make all the excuses you want, but I know you want me as much as I want you.’ Sirius looked earnest yet uncertain. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Say we do this.’ Remus picked at his thumbnail, mouth twisting as the words sent an ache through him. ‘It means we live in poverty. It means always keeping secrets. It means an Azkaban sentence for both of us if we are caught. It means no marriage, no children. I’d be robbing you of everything that I want for you, Sirius. How can you ask me to do that? How can you ask me to want that for you?’

Sirius moved closer and brought his hands up to Remus’ face. His thumb brushed gently over one of the scars on Remus’ cheek. ‘I know all of that. I’ve always known all of that. But I love you more. And this war is going to swallow us whole. It’s already begun. I don’t want to waste time debating and worrying. I want to be with you now. While we can. Before it’s too late.’

Remus leaned into his palm. ‘You make it very difficult to use reason and common sense.’

‘Fuck reason and sense. Be with me. I’ll be a good boyfriend.’

‘I think there’s two dozen girls in this school or recently graduated who might contest that moniker.’

‘Yeah, because I put you first. Because I put the Marauders first. I always will.’

Remus felt stupidly charmed and knew he was wavering. Knew he wanted it more than anything. He said, ‘If you get sick of me and we break up, will you promise we’ll stay friends?’

‘We’re never breaking up,’ said Sirius fiercely. ‘Why would we break up?’

‘Promise me that. I can’t lose you. Lose them.’

‘I swear. But we are never breaking up, so it’s not a problem.’

And with that, Sirius kissed him.

Bellatrix’s coach departed the Lestrange Estate after breakfast, taking Regulus and Evan back to Hogsmeade.

‘No need to take that ratty train when you can go there in style,’ she had declared over an abundant breakfast prepared for them by Nori.

The meal had been uncomfortable, but not for the reason Regulus anticipated. His parents, who had not spoken to him the day before, asked him how he was getting on in his classes. Now that they knew where the Dark Lord stood on their son’s value, it seemed, the previous issues they had with his ‘lifestyle choice’ were gone.

It was jarring. And insulting. And part of Regulus desperately wanted to cling to it.

Before he could get into the coach, his mother kissed his cheek, his father shook his hand, and Mr Rosier wished him and Evan luck in their studies.

Neither spoke as the coach flew into the air, but when they’d flown across the fields and villages for a time, Evan cleared his throat.

‘I like how it took the Dark Lord telling them to get fucked for our parents not to treat us like shit. The irony of that kills me.’

Regulus cut a glare at him. ‘It took the Dark Lord saying he doesn’t give a fuck who I fuck so long as they’re a proper wizard for you to treat me like something less revolting than the shit on your shoe.’

Evan sat forward, hands clasping together. ‘I didn’t lose my head because you’re gay, Regulus. I—okay, well, I did. But I was scared. Barty had seen you as well and I knew if he saw my reaction, it was over for me. I didn’t think the Dark Lord would be okay with it. Our own parents never have been. My father told me fags get killed. I’ve – I’ve seen what the Death Eaters do to those they think an affront to the cause.’

‘So you took it out on me? Who cares if I get disowned? Who cares if I get cursed and beaten up?’

‘I know it was cruel. I know it was awful. I—’ Evan’s throat seemed to seize and he put his fist to his mouth.

Regulus had known and loved Evan even before he arrived at Hogwarts. They grew up together. Long before they knew what blood and sexuality and pain and fear and love meant, they’d been two little boys who liked flying broomsticks together, playing knights with wooden swords, and dreaming up adventures great and small.

He had known and loved Evan for the better part of sixteen years.

He had hated him for six months, give or take.

Despite everything Evan had done to him, Regulus couldn’t not care.

‘Is it true?’ he asked with a sigh.

‘What?’

‘You know what.’

Evan rolled his head back towards him, sending blonde hair back into his eyes. ‘That I was jealous of the boy in Hogsmeade? That I want to cut off James Potter’s arms every time he touches you? Yeah, it’s true.’

Regulus scoffed.

Evan’s piercing eyes narrowed. ‘What’s funny?’

‘Well, I mean – if you hate me this much, I imagine you hate yourself more. It’s hard to be angry with you when I reckon the only person you’ve made more miserable than me this year, is yourself.’

This time, Evan snorted. ‘That’s not untrue.’

‘I don’t forgive you.’

‘I wouldn’t, either.’

‘But I’m not angry anymore. And … I do believe that you’re sorry.’

‘Thank you, Regulus.’

‘Your dad is an absolute cunt, though. To be clear.’

‘Only outdone by your parents, I’m sure.’

Somehow they managed to laugh at their shared woes.

‘I am sorry,’ Evan reiterated. ‘And I miss you. I miss having you around. You’re my best friend.’

‘You were mine, too.’

‘Barty is bloody exhausting sometimes.’

‘That’s often true, I agree.’

‘You know the gossip is going to spread like Fiendfyre, yeah? By tomorrow afternoon, the Slytherins will be begging you to come back.’

‘That’s … really depressing, actually.’

Evan nodded.

The coach descended a bit and Regulus peered out the window. They were in the country; wizard territory. Safe from being seen by Muggles.

Neither spoke for a time. They were almost back to Scotland when Regulus looked back over at Evan. ‘How long?’

Evan raked a hand through his hair, sending it into a messy disarray. He was a handsome man, Regulus had always been aware of that. But he had never imagined Evan would think the same of him. It baffled him a little bit.

‘I can’t remember a time when I didn’t,’ Evan murmured. ‘I think I snapped that day in Hogsmeade because I was consumed by jealousy. And so angry that I’d liked you for so long and never said anything. Was too afraid to say anything.’

‘It broke my heart, you and Barty doing what you did.’

‘I broke my own heart. If it helps.’

‘It doesn’t.’

They lapsed back into a melancholy silence for the remainder of the trip.

Hogsmeade came into view by midmorning and the coach descended. It landed gently on the road going into town. Regulus and Evan stepped out with their bags and it took off immediately.

The air was crisp and hinted at snowfall. Ahead, to their shared surprised, waited Professor Dumbledore.

‘Professor,’ they greeted when they reached him.

‘Are you boys all right?’ he asked kindly.

‘No, not really,’ said Evan bluntly. ‘It was horrible. I’m glad we’re home.’

Dumbledore nodded and turned a searching gaze upon Regulus.

‘Could have gone worse,’ he said. ‘Wasn’t expecting to see the Minister for Magic.’

‘He was there?’

‘Amongst others.’

Dumbledore seemed to glean his meaning and said nothing more on the matter. He walked with them back to Hogwarts, chatting pleasantly about the trees Professor Redgrin was growing for Christmas. He was also working on a chocolate menorah for the Jewish students. It was nice, Regulus thought, and it made him like Dumbledore even more.

When they reached Hogwarts, it was nearly lunchtime.

‘Regulus,’ Dumbledore prompted, ‘might I have a word with before you tuck into what I’m sure will be a deliciously restorative lunch?’

‘I’ll see you,’ Evan said to Regulus with an uncertain smile. He then nodded to Dumbledore and walked off.

‘I admit I feared for your happiness and safety when you left,’ said Dumbledore quietly.

‘Sorry, sir. My head’s been fucked since that night. I – I had to go.’

‘I understand. Did you see your parents?’

‘I did. Could have been worse.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘Voldemort came after the Minister left.’

Dumbledore stiffened. ‘I wondered if he might. What happened?’

‘He told my parents to leave me alone so I can recruit students to the cause.’

Dumbledore nodded gravely. ‘And he suspected nothing?’

‘I can show you the memory later if you want?’

‘That would be most helpful, thank you, Regulus. I am eternally in your debt.’

With plans to meet in his office later that evening, Dumbledore took his leave and Regulus headed to the Great Hall for lunch. He felt better for having told Dumbledore.

The tables were empty when he arrived and he lingered uncertainly, never quite feeling like he could sit down anywhere uninvited. He wasn’t a Gryffindor and no matter Evan’s change in attitude, he did not feel like returning to his House mates.

‘There you are.’ Peter appeared at his side and clapped him on the back. ‘You know the others are having a fit?’

‘How bad?’

Peter chuckled, steering him towards the table. ‘Let’s eat before they get here and kill you.’

‘Good idea.’

Other students filed in as they sat down and began piling food onto their plates. Remus appeared just as Regulus bit into a sandwich.

‘Hiya.’ He sat down across from them. ‘You all right, Regulus?’

Regulus swallowed and took a sip of water before replying. ‘Fine.’

‘How—’

The arrival of James and Sirius cut Remus off.

‘Pete.’ Sirius gestured for him to move and Peter slid sideways, letting Sirius claim the spot next to Regulus. James sat on his other side.

‘Why did you leave without saying anything?’ James searched his face for answers. ‘Do you know how worried we were?’

‘Sorry.’ And he meant it. ‘I had to go.’

James sighed.

‘Who went?’ asked Sirius quietly.

Regulus shook his head. ’Let’s talk after lunch.’

The Marauders all traded looks at this, but they let the matter lie while everyone focused on eating.

When their plates were clear, the five of them headed out of the castle and down the hill to Hagrid’s hut. But they gave it a wide berth and carried on into the forest. They sat by a small grove while Regulus gave a truncated version of events.

‘So that gives us until graduation to come up with a plan,’ said Peter.

‘A plan?’

‘How to spy.’ Sirius grinned excitedly. ‘Perhaps this is our in. If Voldemort thinks you’re on his side, that’s a huge boon.’

‘It’s dangerous,’ said Remus. ‘The spies that have been found out have all been murdered.’

‘Perhaps the best thing to do is hide you.’ James eyes Regulus worriedly.

‘I’m not hiding. And I’m not running. I wanted to. At first. When Dumbledore offered me an out. But that was when I thought there was a death sentence on my head. So far Voldemort’s keen to use me. I say I let him. Learn as much as I can.’

What he did not say was that hiding him was not the problem. The Potters and Lupins would be hunted down. Killed. Ruined.

‘What did our parents say about all this?’

‘Well the Dark Lord’s blessing seemed enough for them to acknowledge me as their son again.’

‘Typical.’

‘And Bellatrix?’ This from James. ‘How did she handle everything? Did she suspect you?’

‘No. As soon as Voldemort said I was trustworthy she was delighted. She defended me against Mr Rosier.’

‘Your family gives me a headache,’ said Peter.

‘That is their talent,’ said Sirius darkly. ‘And Evan? Was he his usual pleasant self?’

‘He apologised.’

‘Did he now?’

‘Privately. Not just for Voldemort’s ears.’

‘And you believed him?’ Sirius was looking at Regulus like he was Britain’s most gullible git.

‘He’s in love with me. I imagine his life is shit enough.’

Sirius had no response for that.

Remus said, ‘I did wonder that.’

Regulus’ eyes flicked to James, who looked deeply uncomfortable.

‘What?’

James grimaced. ‘I knew.’

Regulus’ eyebrow shot up.

‘How?’ demanded Sirius.

Raking a hand through his hair, James said, ‘The night I found out it was Snape who told Regulus about Moony, I lost my head. I used our prank spell on them, under the invisibility cloak. And then I beat the shit out of Snape wearing Barty’s face.’

‘Merlin, Jamie,’ whispered Remus.

‘I wondered why you changed your mind about the prank.’ Sirius narrowed his eyes. ‘Did they say anything else?’

‘Yes. And it was horrible. We’re never using that spell again. I could see it being useful in war, but in general, no. Way too far.’

Regulus felt slightly sick.

‘Blimey,’ said Peter.

‘You know what I wonder?’

Everyone looked at Regulus.

‘How many of us live half lives because of the ignorance of others?’ Regulus made a face. ‘I can’t hate Evan any more than I can hate you, Sirius. I don’t even hate our parents. Perhaps they had dreams once, too. Perhaps their parents beat the joy out of them, too. This is a war of hate, but the individual pieces that make it up are really just ... sad.’

‘You’re more understanding than me, brother,’ said Sirius bluntly. ‘I say fuck the lot of them.’

Regulus wondered if he actually meant that or was just too hurt to try to face what he’d lost.

‘Shit, is that the time?’ Peter was staring at his wristwatch. ‘We’re going to be late to Transfiguration.’

Sirius groaned loudly. ‘If I didn’t know McGonagall would give us detention for a month for skiving …’

Regulus, who had no desire to go to Ancient Runes after the night he’d had, waved them off. ‘I’ll see you at dinner.’

James waved the others on also, lingering by his side. ‘That’s twice in as many weeks that you’ve left the castle without a word to me. Or even Sirius or Remus. You vanished.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

‘I would have gone with you to the funeral.’

Regulus sighed, wishing it were that easy. But even if he had accepting, kind, welcoming parents, he still would not have invited James. ‘Voldemort reads minds, James. You know my secrets. If he can read your mind, we’d both be dead.’

‘Then teach me how to close it. If you’re playing spy, I’m helping. We can double-cross Voldemort together.’

That was not remotely going to happen, but Regulus did see the prudence of teaching James to shield himself from mind readers. He also knew that telling James not to do something would only ensure that he would do it.

‘I’ll teach you,’ he said at length, thinking a few steps ahead.

James beamed at him. Reaching up, he tucked a strand of black hair behind Regulus’ ear. ‘Then I’ll teach you something, too.’

‘Teach me what?’

‘How to be an Animagus.’

Regulus’ eyebrows shot up. He had thought about it - of course he had - but the ability had seemed such a private thing amongst James, Sirius, Remus and Peter - something done for Remus, not just to rebel as so much of their creations were - that he had never considered them actually wanting him to take part. The offer made his heart leap and his response was to throw his arms around James and kiss him passionately.

James laughed against his lips and hoisted him up so that Regulus could wrap his legs around his waist. Regulus had always been tall and lanky, but somehow James made him feel small, slight, and there was something intoxicating about James being able to lift him up and walk him over to the stone wall without breaking away from his lips. James set him down on the top of the low wall but remained between his legs as he deepened the kiss.

‘I love you,’ he said when they broke apart, foreheads pressed together, gasping for breath in unison.

Regulus closed his eyes, fingers curling in James’ wavy hair. ‘I love you, too.’

After a thankfully uneventful dinner, James walked Regulus to Dumbledore’s office on the third floor. He gripped Regulus’ hand tightly, not wanting to let him go. He had thought he would fret less about Regulus the longer they were together, but the opposite had occurred. He now worried so much about Regulus his stomach frequently ached and his heart rarely stopped racing. His plea earlier that afternoon for Regulus to include him had come out calm, but it had taken all of James’ strength. He’d wanted to fall to his knees and beg Regulus to stay with him; he wanted to perform a binding spell to keep Regulus beside him; he wanted to wrap himself around Regulus’ entire body and protect him from the world. Of course he had said none of that - he wasn’t hopeless enough yet to lose all composure - but he had thought it. Felt it. It frightened him how little control he felt where it concerned his love for Regulus. His growing need to protect him at all costs. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so violently reckless about anyone, not even the Marauders, whom he had always thought he loved most of all. He knew now that if he let it, his love for Regulus would overwhelm him. And so he forced himself to paste a smile on his face that he didn’t feel and bid Regulus goodnight outside Dumbledore’s office.

Kissing his cheek, James waited until Regulus had disappeared into the stairwell before departing, forcing one foot in front of the other and reminding himself that if anyone could keep Regulus safe, it was Albus Dumbledore. In truth he was glad that Regulus was actively working against the Death Eaters, but so much had happened so quickly he feared none of them had thought their plan all the way through. Which, incidentally, was why instead of going to the common room, he went to the abandoned bathroom on the second floor – home to the ever bewildering yet oddly beguiling ghost Myrtle Warren – and went to the far left corner behind a row of unused toilets. Bending down, he removed the loose piece of tile from the wall and set it aside carefully.

‘Hello, James,’ a shrill voice trilled from behind him.

‘Hiya, Myrtle,’ he called back, carefully removing the ancient books from their hiding place one by one. Some of the books they’d had to source for their spells and ‘mash-ups’ over the years had come from illicit locations, like Knockturn Alley or Borgin and Burkes - or the private library of Walburga and Orion Black - and all had spells and potions and magical advice that the Marauders viewed as priceless. (And which an interested buyer would undoubtedly pay an exceptionally high price for.) None of them had dared keep the books in their school trunks in case someone ever rifled through them and stole them - or worse, reported them for harbouring such illicit materials. The abandoned bathroom was thus a good hiding place, seeing as how most students avoided Myrtle at all costs if possible. It helped, too, that Myrtle liked the Marauders’ continued company enough not to rat them out.

‘What are you doing?’ she pressed as he examined the titles, floating closer and peering down at his selection. ‘Another potion?’

‘Yup.’

‘What for this time?’

‘I’m going to turn my boyfriend into an Animagus.’ He winked conspiratorially at her. ‘But don’t tell anyone.’

Not that he feared she would. Myrtle was a loyal friend if you gave her half a chance. She had kept the Marauders company many a night over the years, offering observations and insights into their potions and spells that had been helpful more often than not – and lifesaving on at least two occasions.

‘Ooh.’ She flipped onto her back in mid-air, a dreamy look on her ever-young face. ‘What’s his name? How did you meet?’

James tucked the books he needed safely into his bag, returned the rest to the wall, put the tile back in place, and then turned towards Myrtle. ‘His name is Regulus Black.’

‘Your best friend’s brother?’ Delight brightened her normally dreary expression and she clapped her hands together. ‘How did Sirius take it?’

‘Surprisingly all right. I honestly expected him to be more irate. But he’s handling it pretty well. I think he’s just happy to have Regulus with us.’

‘He’s always so nice - your boyfriend,’ said Myrtle, thoughtful. ‘He talks to us ghosts like we’re members of faculty. Unlike some. It’s sweet, really.’

James grinned. ‘He is sweet.’

Rising to his feet, he bade Myrtle good night, promised he would be back by soon, and headed for the Gryffindor common room. Becoming an Animagus was no simple task and there were several more items he was going to need.

After leaving Dumbledore’s office, Regulus trudged down to the kitchens. The meeting had gone well and he felt better for having told Dumbledore the truth and offered as much help as he could, but he felt wrung out and depressed even still.

Most of the house elves had turned in to bed when he trudged in, but Leif, an elf who had been in the school for almost forty years, remained awake drinking tea and reading the paper.

‘May I join you?’ asked Regulus.

‘Of course.’ Leif gestured to the table.

Smiling his thanks, Regulus went to the cupboard where he knew snacks were stored and grabbed a box of biscuits before going over to join Leif. He opened the box and offered the first biscuit to Leif.

Leif took it with a chuckle.

They ate biscuits and drank tea in companionable silence until Leif announced he was retiring to bed.

Alone, Regulus poured himself another cup of tea, plucked a piece of parchment from the cubby on the wall, dipped the nearby quill in ink, and penned a letter to Andromeda. And then to Narcissa. And then to Bella. In each letter, his tone changed; the way he presented himself differing from person to person. After, he read over the responses, making sure he didn’t give anything away to the wrong person, and then headed to the owlery to send them off.

It felt unending - this game he was playing. But the longer he played, the more people he lied to or lied for, the less sure he was that he could stop. That it would ever stop. Or, secretly, if he even wanted to. He felt like he was in a secret chess match against the Dark Lord himself and Regulus wanted to win.

By week’s end, word of the Dark Lord’s stance on Regulus had indeed spread around Slytherin House. And by Friday morning, when Regulus walked into the Great Hall – James and Sirius were at the Quidditch pitch – Evan, Barty and Milicent approached him as a group. Each looked apologetic and uncertain, though Evan appeared more hopeful than anything else.

‘We’re sorry,’ said Milicent contritely. She reached out and took his hand, the way she once had when they were close. Long before she began harassing him. ‘We were horrible to you. I hope you can forgive us.’

Barty nodded. Then, to Regulus’ total shock, Barty engulfed him in a hug, forcing Milicent to step aside. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered earnestly. ‘I spoke to him. Well, I wrote to Bella and he wrote to me. Explained your stance. I’m sorry I was too much of a git to know you hadn’t changed sides. We get what you’re doing with the Gryffindors. We’ll help. Follow your lead and all.’

Regulus was inclined to point out that none of those reasons had the slightest thing to do with their treatment of him the last few months, but there was no point and by now he’d spun too many lies around too lives to contradict Barty.

‘I appreciate that,’ he said instead of ‘Go fuck yourself,’ but it was a close call.

‘Will you sit with us?’ asked Evan.

At the Gryffindor table behind them, Remus and Peter watched the scene unfold with worried expressions; Remus had half-risen from his seat. Lily, too, looked ready to intervene.

‘Sure,’ Regulus said at length to the Slytherins, forcing a smile.

Milicent slipped her arm through his and steered him towards the Slytherin table like they were the best of friends.

‘You’ve missed so much,’ she informed him, and then launched into a summary of months’ worth of missed gossip. Thankfully when they reached the table, Barty and Evan claimed the seats beside him, preventing her from doing so.

Ten minutes into Milicent’s story about the latest Slug Club gossip – Regulus had avoided the club all term except to try and get the Ravenclaws invited and hadn’t a clue what was going on with any of it – Sirius and James entered the Great Hall with the rest of Gryffindor team.

He watched them reach the Gryffindor table, where Remus nodded over towards Regulus. Both pivoted; the colour fled their cheeks in tandem.

James put a hand on Sirius’ arm, said something, and then made his way over alone. Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws watched as James approached the Slytherin table. When he reached them, Evan stood first and offered his hand to James like a gentleman.

‘I owe you an apology,’ he said loudly. ‘I’ve apologised to Regulus but I wanted to say it to you as well. We were pricks and there’s no excuse. But I hope we can start over.’

Only someone who knew James well would note that his smile did not reach his eyes; to everyone else, he was the picture of magnanimity when he grasped Evan’s hand and shook it.

‘Regulus asked that we turn a new leaf,’ he said charmingly. ‘I believe we have more in common than we thought.’

At this, Barty stepped up. He also held out his hand. The Dark Lord’s number one fan after Bella, ready to prove that he would follow any order, even if it contradicted everything he had said the week before. It left Regulus feeling strange.

The meal that followed this exchange was truly surreal. Sitting between James and Evan, Barty and Aurora across from them, Regulus was barely able to swallow his food and felt slightly sick even trying. Somehow, though, the hour passed without incident, the conversation remaining light the entire time, and to his relief James made their excuses just before lunch ended and led him out of the Great Hall.

Only a few steps outside the front door, Remus, Sirius and Peter fell in around them, clearly having been waiting to pounce. No one said a word until they had put several halls between themselves and the Slytherins.

‘So Voldemort cracked his whip,’ said Peter quietly when they had rounded the corner, a nervous laugh escaping him. ‘That was so weird.’

‘Seemed like everyone’s on their best behaviour,’ said Sirius darkly. ‘Although I didn’t see Severus.’

‘Nor I,’ said James.

‘They couldn’t get enough of you,’ said Peter, nodding to Regulus. ‘I think it worked.’

‘For now,’ said Regulus, utterly worn out.

‘Jamie told us your plan to spy,’ said Sirius conspiratorially. ‘We’ll help sell it. Tell them what they want to hear. Get as much information for Dumbledore as we can.’

‘This isn’t a game.’ Regulus got the feeling that Sirius wasn’t truly comprehending the weight of the situation. He was laughing it off, just as he did everything else. ‘If Voldemort suspects anything, our lives aren’t the only things forfeit. All of our parents’ lives are, too. Think about that. All of you.’

‘I have,’ said James. ‘I’m doing this for my parents.’

‘I’m doing it to stick it to our parents,’ said Sirius bluntly. ‘But that doesn’t mean I want him to kill them.’

‘The Death Eaters attacked me,’ said Remus. ‘In my home. I’m in.’

‘I don’t think I’ll be much use,’ said Peter. ‘But I’m in, too.’

Regulus stared at the four eager faces of the Marauders, all determined and brave and unswayable. He was truly beginning to appreciate the qualities that Gryffindors claimed.

The reply letter from Bella arrived in the talons of an owl Regulus didn’t recognise but who did not seem to have much patience for deliveries. The letter informed Regulus that Bella was in Germany and seemed in high spirits; more than a few lines used exclamation points. No specific deaths or encounters were mentioned, but she alluded to meetings and teas and progress, all of which left Regulus with an impending sense of doom.

‘That’s unsettling,’ said Sirius when Regulus handed the letter to him so that he could read it himself. Remus, Peter and James all read the letter over Sirius’ shoulder. ‘It’s never good when Bells is chipper.’

‘Agreed,’ muttered Regulus. But there was nothing for it. He scrawled a quick reply and sent the owl off again, back to Germany. Much as he did not ever care to know what Bellatrix and Lord Voldemort did in their free time, he knew that he had to keep that channel of communication open. If there was one person he had to maintain a front for, and maintain it well, it was Bellatrix.

The week before the Christmas holidays, Kreacher returned to Hogwarts. Regulus was going over his notes for his exam when the house elf appeared in the Room of Requirement without warning.

‘He has not been back,’ Kreacher relayed after they’d traded greetings. ‘And your parents have gone to Paris until the new year.’

Regulus wasn’t surprised. His parents much preferred Paris to London in the wintertime. ‘You’re not going?’

‘They said they did not want the house empty, Master Regulus. Mistress has been worried about spies breaking in and stealing her secrets.’

Regulus wondered if Walburga truly kept so many secrets worth stealing, or if she was simply so narcissistic that she thought what she did have would so entice a spy. ‘You can’t leave, can you?’ he deduced, eyeing Kreacher.

‘Only to see Master and Mistress.’ Kreacher winked at him. The loophole being that both Orion, his father, and Regulus, were – to Kreacher – ‘Master’. And whilst Regulus reviled the title, he was relieved Kreacher had found a way around his mother’s orders.

‘Do you want to see anyone?’ he asked.

Kreacher brightened instantly at the offer. ‘Kreacher has been writing to Nori, but Nori also has orders from Mistress Lestrange to stay at home for the holidays and watch her house.’

Kreacher had long liked Nori, but house elves were only able to snatch time together if permitted by their masters. Regulus had always found the reality of their situation sick and twisted; it bothered him that it bothered so few others.

‘Is Bella still in Germany?’ He had not yet received a reply, so he wasn’t entirely sure.

‘Yes,’ said Kreacher. ‘The Lestrange manor will be empty all Christmas.’

Regulus suddenly had a very good – or very bad – idea.

While Regulus had been able to successfully avoid Slug Club obligations all of that term, he didn’t have the heart to reject Slughorn’s ardent request after the last Potions class of the year that he make an appearance at the final shindig. And so, the Friday before the start of their winter holidays, Regulus made his way down to the dungeons in his nicest dress robes. He was already counting the seconds until he could bow out. James and the Marauders were having their own party in Hagrid’s hut, which sounded far more appealing, and Remus had promised to save him some liquour.

To his surprise, Lily Evans was also making her way to the party and fell in beside him as they made their way to the lower levels of the castle.

‘Thank God you’re here too,’ she said, looping her arm through his. ‘I’ve been dreading this all week.’

‘As have I.’

The party was well underway when they entered the lower chamber minutes later. Candles dripped wax from high above and scratchy music filled the background, drowned out somewhat by all the chatter. Evan waved to Regulus from where he stood beside the drink table and instantly produced a drink for him. At Regulus’ pointed look, he fetched one for Lily, too, who thankfully didn’t seem to have noticed the initial slight.

‘Didn’t think you’d show,’ said Evan as they sipped their goblets.

‘Almost didn’t,’ said Regulus bluntly. ‘But I didn’t want to let Slughorn down.’

‘Same.’

‘Any plans for the break, Evan?’ asked Lily.

‘The usual. I’m honestly considering coming back to Hogwarts early. My family are …’ Evan drowned his feelings in what remained in his goblet.

‘I’m not looking forward to going home either,’ said Lily with an uncharacteristically sad sigh. ‘My sister hates me and spends the whole holiday starting fights.’

‘Sounds like my dad,’ said Evan.

‘Sounds like my mother,’ said Regulus.

‘Then I declare we need more drinks!’ Lily clapped her hands together.

‘Agreed,’ said Regulus and Evan in unison.

The night very quickly unravelled from there. Regulus, Lily and Evan - who could not have made for an odder trio - spent the rest of the party drinking away their unhappiness and bonding over their familial situations. Between tales of Regulus’ parents, Evan’s dad and Lily’s sister, they had enough bad memories to commiserate for hours. It helped, oddly. Being able to vent to those who truly understood what it was like to have a family you both loved and hated.

Midnight had come and gone when they at last bade goodnight and happy holidays to Slughorn and set off for their rooms. They must have been beyond hammered because Regulus didn’t realise they were all arm in arm until they were nearly to the Head Girls’ room.

‘This is me,’ said Lily when they stumbled down the next corridor. ‘Thank you, lads. I appreciate you walking me to my door.’

‘We are gentlemen,’ said Evan staunchly. And then, because his behaviour hadn’t been unusual enough all evening, he kissed her cheek. ‘Goodnight, Lady Lily,’ he added.

Lily burst into a fit of drunken giggles. ‘Goodnight, good sirs.’

She curtseyed poorly and then shuffled into her room and closed the door. Her laughter trailed through from the other side.

‘Where’re you?’ asked Evan as they wandered away from her door.

‘Up,’ said Regulus.

They paused at the end of the corridor by the staircases, but neither moved on immediately.

Evan smiled drunkenly at him. ‘Tonight was nice. Lily – Lily is cool.’

The words were so genuine and honest that Regulus found himself wrapping his arms around Evan the way he used to, holding his slightly smaller form close. Evan returned the gesture with evident relief, squeezing Regulus almost too tightly. Things were far from mended between them, far from forgiven or forgotten, but he could see that Evan was trying and it meant a good deal to him. More than he could put into words.

Trying was all Regulus ever asked for.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of final exams and studying. After his very last exam – Ancient Runes – Regulus walked out of the examination hall feeling hopeful but not entirely confident about his answers. He’d spent too much of the term distracted by everything to have aced the exams the way he might have done the previous year. But then, marks meant less to him now in the grand scheme of things.

‘You got a minute?’ Evan appeared at his side, having just come out of the same examination hall. Things between them had remained cordial in the days since the party and sometimes Regulus wondered if they were acting at all. With Barty, Regulus deeply doubted the depths of his sincerity and knew his loyalty would change with the wind. But Evan did not seem to be acting and for that Regulus wanted to return the offer. He wanted so badly for their friendship to be genuine and true once more.

‘Ah, sure.’

Evan veered away from the crowd and led Regulus down a side passage out of the castle and into the Herbology gardens. Snow covered the ground and everything looked like it had been dusted with crystals.

A few paces inside the nearest greenhouse, hidden from any watchful eyes, Evan stilled and turned around. He drew a small box from his robes’ pocket and held it out. ‘Here. Happy Christmas-slash-birthday.’

Caught completely off guard, Regulus took the box with slight hesitation. His eyes flicked to Evan’s, who nodded encouragingly. Holding his breath, Regulus opened the box. Inside was a thick ring in the shape of a serpent. He felt a strange … pull towards it.

‘It needs a drop of blood,’ said Evan in a low voice, like he was telling Regulus a secret.

Regulus had to work to tear his eyes from the ring; for some reason it felt like it was meant to be his. ‘Why does it need blood?’

‘Trust me.’

Not sure why he was trusting Evan with something like blood magic, Regulus cut the tip of his finger with a small spell and smeared his thumb on the ring.

Almost instantly, he heard a strange hissing.

‘Is it making noise?’

‘Just for you,’ said Evan. ‘Do you know what it is?’

Regulus slipped the ring onto his forefinger, enraptured. The hissing went away once the ring was on and it felt immediately weightless to wear it despite its size. Like it was a natural extension of himself. ‘What is it?’ he asked, closing his fingers into a fist.

‘It was created by Salazar Slytherin for Godric Gryffindor. It allowed Godric to understand Parseltongue. Legend goes when Slytherin left the castle, Godric threw the ring into the lake out of anger and sadness. It was found by Newt Scamander years ago when he was researching the mermaids here at Hogwarts. He gave it to Leta Lestrange as a gift, who later gave it to my mother as a wedding gift.’

Marvelling at this, Regulus said, ‘I’m surprised the Dark Lord didn’t ask for it.’

‘He might have.’ Evan shrugged, but his lips twitched with pride at his brilliant deception. ‘My mother believes it’s lost. I stole it from her when I was eleven.’

Regulus smirked. ‘Why?’

Evan took a slow, measured breath. ‘Because you told me once that you were scared of snakes and wished you could speak Parseltongue so you wouldn’t be afraid anymore. I wanted to make you happy, so I stole it. But then I got scared. I heard my father talking about fags needing to be beaten – and I heard Sirius at that Christmas party – and I saw your face.’ He raked his fingers through his hair, the pain of years of self-hatred bright in his eyes. ‘So ... I kept it. I’ve wanted to give it to you every year since. And as I won’t see you for Christmas or your birthday - and after everything … Well …’

‘I love it.’

‘You do?’

‘I’ll never take it off.’

This promise clearly meant the world to Evan, whose grin proved infectious. They parted ways with smiles and waves shortly thereafter, agreeing to see each other after the holidays when they were both back at Hogwarts.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of packing for the holidays which Regulus found himself actually looking forward to.

A little after dinner, Peter arrived at the Room of Requirement just as Regulus finished cleaning and packing away his Quidditch gear. ‘The others are behind me,’ he said as he wandered over.

‘Cool.’

‘How were your exams?’

‘Utter shite.’

‘I’m about to be right there with you,’ said Peter, dropping down onto the bed. He abruptly whistled and sat forward, eyes widening. ‘Nice ring.’

Regulus glanced from Peter to Slytherin’s ring on his forefinger. ‘Cheers.’

He tried to be nonchalant, but Sirius, Remus and James walked in at that precise moment and Peter was not the least bit good at catching a hint.

‘Where did you get that?’ asked Sirius.

‘Christmas gift,’ said Regulus, tossing a pair of boots into his trunk. ‘It belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It supposedly enables the wearer to understand and use Parseltongue, but I haven’t tested it yet.’

‘Holy shit,’ said Sirius, moving closer to inspect it. ‘Where did you get it?’

‘Evan.’

James’ lip curled at this bit of information. ‘He gave you a ring for Christmas? The bloke who bullied you for the better part of a year and now claims he’s in love with you? That bloke? And you’re wearing it? And we’re all totally happy with this?’

Sirius and Peter both ducked their heads, laughing quietly into their hands.

‘My, what a perfect time for the loo,’ said Remus, pivoting back towards the door.

‘I’ll join you,’ said Peter hurriedly. He hauled Sirius out by the arm despite Sirius’ protestations that he wanted answers, too.

‘It’s not a romantic gift,’ said Regulus when they were alone.

Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, James scowled at Regulus. ‘The legend of Godric and Salazar is right up there with Achilles and Patroclus, and Alexander and Hephaestion. Don’t pretend to be ignorant.’

The bite in his reply was more endearing than annoying and Regulus felt a rush of stupid affection for him.

‘I’m double crossing the Dark Lord, James. It’s a good gift. I’d be foolish not to wear it.’

James snorted.

Utterly charmed, Regulus took his hand, threading their fingers together. ‘It was an apology, not a promise. Evan is trying to make amends.’

‘It wouldn’t bother you if I wore jewellery gifted to me by Lily?’

‘You spent the better part of seven years in love with Lily. I’ve never felt that way about Evan. You can’t compare the two.’

‘Can too.’ But it came out mostly unserious. Brow furrowed and lips pursed, James raised Regulus’ hand to inspect the ring more closely. ‘It is cool,’ he allowed begrudgingly.

‘And the hand it’s on belongs to you, not Evan.’

‘Belongs?’

‘You heard me.’

And despite Christmas being weeks away, James looked like he’d just been given everything he had ever wanted. Still holding onto Regulus’ hand, James leaned in and captured him in a feverish, almost territorial kiss. One that felt like a promise of things to come.

Chapter Text

When the Hogwarts Express pulled up to the platform at King’s Cross station, returning students who wanted to go home back to their parents for the winter break, Regulus and the Marauders stepped off the train to see the Potter parents, the Lupins and the Pettigrews and, to his astonishment, Narcissa and Andromeda.

‘Cousin!’ Narcissa threw her arms around him. The familiar smell of her perfume wafted up his nose and he hugged her tighter. In truth he hated the smell, but it had long been her favourite and he had come to miss it. Miss her. He felt like he was losing her in reverse, knowing that one day she would no longer speak to him. No longer embrace him as she was now.

He missed people he hadn’t even lost yet.

‘Hiya, Cissy.’ It came out gravellier than intended, but there was no masking the emotion in his voice. Leaning back, Regulus kissed her cheek, then Andromeda’s. The look she gave him told him that she knew exactly what he was thinking because she was feeling it, too.

‘What are you two doing here?’ he asked.

‘We wanted to take you out to dinner,’ said Andromeda, clapping him on the cheek.

Regulus could tell by her expression that she hadn’t wanted him to reach the train station and find no family waiting.

‘And it’s your birthday.’ Narcissa said this matter-of-factly. ‘And you deserve to be treated.’

‘My birthday isn’t for another two weeks.’ But he was grinning.

‘Yes,’ said Narcissa, and she ruffled his hair affectionately, sending it into his eyes, ‘and we figured you’d be spending that day with James. So we are declaring today your birthday.’

‘Yes, we decided this,’ said Andromeda primly. She giggled as she draped her arms around the pair of them. ‘Come on, Regulus darling. We won’t see you all break. We want to catch up on everything before you head off on your romantic getaway.’

James appeared then, his parents a few paces away with Sirius. ‘I’m a romantic getaway? I knew it,’ he drawled, and kissed Regulus on the cheek before turning a dazzling smile on the ladies. ‘But I suppose you can have him for one night.’

It sent a flutter through Regulus. Being out in the open at Hogwarts was one thing, but James had no qualms, even here in London. It felt good to be acknowledged in public. To not worry about what even the Death Eaters would think because they already knew.

His lies had given him the strangest freedom. He tried not to think about that too much. It made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

‘Do you want to come with us?’ Andromeda directed her question first to James, then to Sirius, who wandered over. ‘Please? We’d love to take you all out and catch up! And it’s just us! No parents or spouses.’

The way she nudged Regulus told him this meant no Lucius, for which he was profoundly relieved. Narcissa had never pushed for them to be friends after the incident with the Polyjuice potion, but Regulus knew she’d chastised Lucius about his behaviour enough that Lucius left her alone about it these days. He would always consider Regulus a weakling, unworthy of the love she gave him, but Regulus didn’t care about Lucius’ feelings on the matter so long as Narcissa didn’t.

James looked over at his parents. ‘Is that all right? We won’t be out late.’

‘Not late at all,’ said Narcissa smoothly. No one was better at charming parents than Narcissa, who had worked as a tutor ever since leaving school. ‘And I can have my coach bring them straight home this evening. It’s very secure, I assure you.’

Still, Mrs Potter paled and Regulus’ stomach clenched painfully. He had no doubt that if he was still seeing Death Eaters in every shadow, always unable to relax, she was struggling, too.

Sirius coughed and shook his head subtly at Narcissa, scratching the back of his head to play it off.

‘Would you like to come to our house instead?’ asked James, giving his mother an understanding smile. Behind Mrs Potter, Mr Potter mouthed his gratitude to his son.

‘That sounds wonderful,’ said Narcissa without missing a beat.

Most – though certainly not all – of the tension dissipated at this redirection. They said farewell to Peter and Remus and their parents outside of the train station, though Sirius already had plans to have Remus over as soon as possible. Peter had originally planned to visit over the break, but apparently Marlene had invited him skiing and he was going there until term began again.

‘Don’t fall off any mountains, Pete,’ Sirius hollered as they parted ways.

Peter flicked his fingers in response.

‘Love ya, Pete!’ called James.

‘Be careful,’ said Remus, clapping Peter on the back as he passed by.

Regulus held up a hand to him. ‘Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!’

‘Don’t say that!’ said Sirius, smacking him upside the head. ‘Peter, do everything we wouldn’t do! We don’t want to have to do them when term starts!’

Laughter rippled through the group. After shouting final goodbyes to Peter and Remus, everyone piled into their various forms of transportation and set off in different directions.

Being back at home always left Remus feeling terribly guilty. He loved his parents, but their life was a half-life because of him. And he knew, even if his father did not say it in so many words, that he was ashamed to have a werewolf for a son. The articles he’d found of his father’s old declarations while working for the Ministry had left him in tears as a child. He’d never told his father he found them, but they had haunted him ever since.

Going off the house alone, it seemed like only his mother lived there. There were moving pictures of him and Lyall on the walls, but the colours, the styles, the decorations, the ornaments, the fabrics – they were all his mother’s. His father left no trace of himself other than the newspaper he was always reading.

Leaving his trunk in the hallway, Remus followed his parents to the kitchen and sat down at the table when his mother gestured for him to do so. Somehow he always felt like an unwanted guest when he returned home.

‘How are you feeling about your NEWTs?’ his mother asked, setting a cup of tea in front of him and taking the chair opposite.

‘Good,’ said Remus, although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit nervous about the exams. ‘I’ll be glad when they’re over.’

‘Have you thought about what you want to do come April?’ asked his father.

Remus frowned. ‘April?’

‘After you graduate. Do you have a plan?’

The implication made his throat seize.

‘I do,’ he lied. ‘Dumbledore has arranged for an internship for me.’

He didn’t know what hurt more – the shock or the relief on his father’s face.

‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ cried his mother, patting him on the arm. ‘What will you be doing?’

‘Working with dragons.’

‘Good,’ said his father tightly. ‘That’s good, son.’

Remus forced a smile that broke his heart.

The Lupins had a quiet lunch filled largely by Hope chattering away about all that was happening at her new job and the latest gossip in the Wizarding World over a Quidditch cheating scandal.

After Remus did the dishes, he kissed his mother on the cheek and went to the small bedroom he used while he was home. No decorations adorned the room, no portraits or paintings or photographs. It could have been any room in any house.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, put his head into his hands, and sighed heavily.

‘Moony. Moooooony. Mooooooooooooooony.’

The teasing call made him start, then laugh, and he thrust his hand into his robes’ pocket. The two way mirror Sirius and James normally used in detention was a handy invention. Sirius must have stuck it into his robes at the train station.

Remus held it up and found himself looking at Sirius’ handsome face.

‘There you are!’ Sirius grinned at him. ‘Want to come for dinner? Andy and I are cooking and we’ve made too much and—’

The mirror was suddenly tugged out of Sirius’ hand and suddenly Andromeda’s smiling face filled the frame.

‘And I want to catch up properly! We had no time at the station, mate!’

Sirius snatched the mirror back. ‘And you can stay the night! Potter-dad insists!’

Remus snorted. ‘I hope you actually call him that.’

‘He does,’ called James’ voice somewhere behind Sirius. ‘Dad adores it.’

‘Potter-dad knows he’s my dad.’ Sirius winked at someone Remus couldn’t see before glancing back at Remus. ‘What do you say, love?’

The words tugged at Remus, stealing all of his resistance in an instant. He wanted nothing more than to escape his house and be with Sirius.

Thinking logistics, Remus grimaced. ‘I think we’re out of Floo—’

‘JAMIE!’ Sirius’ face vanished from the mirror.

Not three seconds later, Remus heard a commotion in the sitting room down the hall.

Darting out of his room and down the stairs, thrusting the mirror into his pocket as he went, he entered the sitting room to see James and Sirius stumbling out of the chimney, dusting soot off themselves and fixing their hair.

‘Mrs Lupin!’ cried Sirius when he spotted her, as if he hadn’t just seen her a few hours ago at the train station. ‘My favourite Lady Lupin!’

Hope laughed. ‘I’m the only Lady Lupin, Sirius.’

‘As God intended.’ Sirius swooped down and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Might I rob you of your heir and shining light this night?’ He sounded like he was reciting Shakespeare. ‘It’s a requirement that my dearest Remus taste the casserole I have just spent the afternoon making. And—’ He gestured to James, who held out a large, freshly baked cake. ‘I offer a worthy trade.’

Remus smirked despite the awful cloud that had followed him since returning home. Sirius never failed to lift his mood.

‘Oh, all right,’ said Hope with a good natured laugh. ‘But be home for lunch tomorrow, sweetheart,’ she told Remus. ‘I want to properly catch up and your father leaves on a business trip after breakfast.’

Music to his ears.

Kissing his mother on the cheek and reminding her that he loved her, Remus let Sirius tow him towards the chimney. He didn’t bother bidding his father farewell. He knew Lyall would be happier with him out of the house.

The instant the trio stepped out of the fire and into the Potters’ home, James headed off into the kitchen and Sirius tugged Remus down the hall to the room that had been his long before he ran away from home.

The instant the bedroom door was shut behind them, Sirius captured him in a feverish kiss, his hands hot on Remus’ skin where they moved to press their bodies closer together. Any sense he’d had was robbed of him in that moment and he fell into Sirius, gasping into his mouth and pushing him back against the wall. He didn’t want to analyse why he wanted to drown himself in Sirius’ smell or why he had to fight the urge to ask Sirius to wear his clothes, just so he’d smell like him. Sometimes the wolfish thoughts that tumbled into his mind left him utterly ashamed, but in that moment he wanted to imprint his touch upon Sirius forever. Wanted to touch every part of him, to bite him.

Remus drew back, gasping raggedly. His heart was pounding so hard at the thought and he felt sick with shame.

‘Fuck,’ said Sirius, oblivious to Remus’ inner turmoil. ‘Even a few hours is too long.’

His words ushered the ghosts from Remus’ mind and he found himself smiling stupidly at the dark eyed man looking at him with utter adoration.

‘It seems everyone got a boyfriend,’ said Euphemia as James helped her set the table for dinner. Candles hovered in the air, casting the newly refurbished dining room in a pleasant glow.

His parents had completely redone the house after the attack. Mostly it was the same, but all the wallpaper had been changed, the furniture updated, the windows a new shape. It was just enough change to feel like a fresh start and helped push away the reminder of what the Death Eaters had done to their family.

‘Those idiots are seven years in the making,’ he replied, grinning fondly. ‘Thank you for inviting Remus. I worry about him in that house.’

Euphemia pursed her lips. ‘As do I. Be sure to tell him that he is welcome to stay for the whole holiday. We’d love to have him for Christmas.’

James walked around the table and hugged her tightly. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head and wondering when it was he became taller than his own mother, he said, ‘Best Mum ever.’

He didn’t let himself dwell on how close he had come to losing her. He was too mad, too scared, too afraid of how stupid he’d be if given half the chance. So he had resolved not to think about it. He’d go mad if he did.

‘And how is Regulus?’ his mother prompted.

To say that his parents now utterly adored his boyfriend was an understatement. James had a feeling his parents were planning their wedding already.

‘Better,’ he said, glad it felt honest. ‘The Slytherins have apologised for all the bullying and are leaving him be.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Yeah. It’s not genuine, but at least he doesn’t have to deal with it anymore.’

‘Why isn’t it genuine?’

He thought quickly – Narcissa was in the house after all. ‘Ah, Dumbledore and Slughorn spoke to them. I believe many detentions were threatened.’ Which probably wasn’t a lie.

Euphemia sighed. ‘If only children would not repeat the ills of their parents.’

‘Not all parents,’ he reminded her.

The door to the kitchen opened then, sparing him from another lie, and Regulus and Narcissa entered, floating several dishes of food ahead of them.

‘Thank you, my dears,’ said Mrs Potter. ‘You both take a seat and I’ll handle the rest.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Narcissa.

‘Of course, dear. You’ve done too much already.’

Narcissa beamed at her. ‘I love helping.’

James could see why Regulus loved her so much and he was actually beginning to like her, too, although he wasn’t sure how anyone with a modicum of conscience could fall in love with someone like Lucius Malfoy and it kept him from letting his guard down.

He, Regulus and Narcissa took their seats at the table and moments later Andromeda came in holding a bottle of wine. She poured some into her sister’s glass and into a glass for Regulus, who was pouring himself … cranberry juice.

James raised an eyebrow at Regulus, who made a small shushing gesture. He watched as Regulus waited for Narcissa’s back to turn before he swapped the liquid in his goblet with Andromeda’s.

Oh.

James smirked.

His parents came in next, the last of the dishes floating ahead of them and landing neatly onto the table. It really was a good spread.

‘Where are Sirius and Remus?’ asked Andromeda.

‘Here we are,’ drawled Sirius, strolling in from the other doorway, tugging Remus along behind him.

James hid his snigger in his napkin; both Sirius and Remus were thoroughly dishevelled and had clearly spent the last few minutes catching up.

Sirius smacked him upside the head as he passed by.

‘Tuck in,’ said Fleamont as soon as everyone was seated.

James didn’t need to be told twice.

They kept the dinner talk light. No one felt safe sharing secrets in front of Narcissa, but no tension mounted. They talked of exams, Quidditch, people they knew who were getting married or having children; Narcissa spoke about her job as a tutor to two children whose parents had opted to home-school due to the war; Andromeda talked about her work in Diagon Alley and the local gossip she’d heard in town; Euphemia told them about the gemstone she’d found in Ecuador that had transformative properties; and Fleamont shared that his co-worker was thoroughly aggrieved at the head of their department and kept cursing random objects around the office, which had them all on edge. Everyone seemed keen to avoid an argument and for that James was deeply relieved.

By ten o’clock his parents had turned in for the night, and Narcissa and Andromeda were bidding them goodnight with smiles and invitations to Narcissa’s Christmas party.

‘I’ll think about it,’ Regulus promised them before they got into her coach and flew off. Judging by his expression, he had no intention of attending.

‘I’d rather scoop out my eyeballs, freeze them and eat eyeball ice cream than go to a Malfoy-Black Christmas shindig,’ said Sirius when the coach was out of earshot.

‘Poetic,’ said Regulus.

Back inside, James claimed his favourite sofa by the fire and held out his hand. Regulus took it, allowing himself to be drawn into James’ arms. He smelled like firewood and fragrance and James inhaled as he kissed the top of Regulus’ head. It was hard to believe that just four months ago they had barely exchanged more than a few terse words.

On the opposite sofa, Sirius stretched out languidly, legs over the arm of the sofa, head on Remus’ thigh – which seemed to be his favourite place.

‘Do you think she suspected anything?’ asked Remus, sipping at his mug of tea with one hand, playing idly with Sirius’ black hair with the other.

Regulus rubbed his eyes, barely stifling a yawn. ‘Cissy? No. I think she’s worried about me and misses Sirius.’

Sirius snorted.

Regulus stilled, expression darkening.

Before an argument could break out, James leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘You mentioned earlier you had a plan you want to tell the lads, yeah?’

‘Plan?’ asked Remus, clearly also eager to avoid a fight.

Thankfully the segue worked, and Regulus sat up, nodding. His eyes were on Remus, but James noticed that he was playing with the snake ring around his finger. The one Evan Rosier gifted him. James wasn’t ashamed to say it bothered him that another man had given his boyfriend such an intimate gift, but he also saw the logic in keeping it. Especially as Regulus got more and more entangled in Voldemort’s inner circle. Such a gift could save his life. But it bothered him to see Regulus wearing it, and it bothered him see Regulus unable to stop touching it. He noticed, though, that Regulus didn’t seem to realise he was even doing it.

‘I wasn’t sure what you were doing for the full moon,’ said Regulus, attention mostly on Remus, ‘but I had a thought. Kreacher’s friend Nori works for the Lestranges. They’ll be gone all winter and Nori is alone. Kreacher wants to see her so I’m taking him over. The manor’s enormous, it’s away from Muggles – you’d be safe to transform there and run around.’

Remus blinked at him in surprise. ‘You want me to go to the Lestrange Estate for the full moon?’

‘No way is he going near that place,’ said Sirius, sitting up, tense all over at the suggestion. ‘Anyone could show up. No. Absolutely not.’

‘They won’t,’ said Regulus firmly. ‘And otherwise Remus will have to turn at home.’ He nodded to Remus. ‘Where do you turn at home?’

‘The shed in the garden,’ said Remus quietly. ‘Chained up.’

It made something inside James ache and he wanted to scream at Lyall Lupin more than he usually did. Beside Remus, Sirius’ jaw visibly clenched at his words.

‘Well, that’s settled,’ said Regulus, still fiddling with the ring. ‘At least at the manor you can be with Sirius and James. I’ll be in the house with Kreacher and Nori, safe and ready with coffee when you’re all done.’

But Sirius was not swayed. ‘And if the Death Eaters show up?’

Regulus waved a hand like this was of no concern. ‘They’ll come to the house, Sirius. They won’t arrive from the forest. It’s their home. Kreacher could go to you and warn you if that happened. The estate is acres and acres and acres. You could go to the other side of it and transform and they probably wouldn’t even hear your howls if they did happen to come home. Which they won’t. I promise.’

James could see that Remus was far more inclined towards the idea than Sirius. ‘It’s not the worst idea, actually,’ he said to Remus.

‘Cheers,’ said Regulus, turning back to him with a smile curving his lips.

James kissed his cheek. ‘I trust you. If you say they won’t be there, it could be fun. And Moony, you hate transforming at home, you told us that. This would make for a nice change. And we’ll be back at Hogwarts the full moon after.’

Remus heaved a sigh. ‘It would be better than being at home.’

His words made James and Sirius exchange a look, and that effectively settled that.

On the morning of his seventeenth birthday, Regulus woke up in a spare room in the Potters’ home to his brother, his boyfriend, and his brother’s boyfriend all tearing into the room to haul him out of bed and present him with the breakfast they had made.

The table was all but groaning under the weight of plates of pancakes, waffles, croissants, omelettes, fruit salad, bacon strips, sausages, black and white pudding, toast – both regular and French – which were all arranged carefully around a pot of coffee, a jug of juice and a pitcher of milk.

‘I …’ Regulus didn’t know what to say.

‘We did it ourselves,’ said Sirius proudly, slinging his arm around Regulus’ shoulders. ‘What do you think?’

‘Thank you,’ he rasped. ‘Truly.’

The door to the kitchen swung open and Mr and Mrs Potter entered. From their flushed faces and their damp coats, Regulus guessed they’d gone out for a morning stroll in the snow. Both smiled broadly at the sight that greeted them.

As the Potters complimented Sirius and James on the food, Remus pulled a small brown parcel from out of his coat pocket and held it out to Regulus. ‘It’s not much but I think you’ll like it.’

Utterly touched, Regulus took the parcel from him and opened it. Inside was a worn, beautiful copy of The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien, the Muggle author Regulus loved so much. The surge of emotion hit him like a tidal wave.

‘You mentioned you liked his other book, so I thought you might—’

Regulus cut him off with a hug. ‘Thank you, Remus.’

Remus wrapped his arms around Regulus and chuckled low in his throat. It was a thoroughly wolfish sound. ‘It’s not new—’

‘It’s perfect.’ Regulus leaned back to offer Remus a broad smile before turning his attention to the book in his hands, which he wanted to immediately start reading.

His parents had always given him new and expensive gifts, but none with sentimental value. None that showed they listened to him. To his interests and fascinations.

‘Well, now my gift has a lot to live up to,’ said Sirius, appearing beside Remus. He a produced a package from behind his back and held it out. ‘Happy birthday, mon frère.’

Regulus took it, heart rate picking up with uncertainty. But it, too, took him utterly by surprise. It was a photograph of them from when they were nine and ten. It was from a trip with Andromeda, who had taken the picture. Sirius was teaching him how to fly. The two little boys laughing in the photograph had only smiles and jokes and pranks between them.

Regulus felt his throat tighten. ‘Sirius …’

‘You like it?’

‘I love it.’

They smiled at each other – and it felt like the chapter of pain and mistrust between them had officially closed. Regulus hugged him then, and Sirius squeezed him so tightly it was like he was trying to apologise for the past with every bone in his body and every fibre of his being.

Moments later everyone was seated at the table and, before anyone could start eating, Mr Potter slid an envelope across the table to Regulus.

‘I was going to suggest something less grandiose,’ said Mrs Potter, laughing at whatever was in the letter, ‘so please don’t feel obliged to accept.’

The words made Regulus half anxious, half guilty. They shouldn’t give him anything grandiose. He hadn’t done anything they should be thanking him for. He’d killed someone.

Suddenly Regulus wanted to be sick. But he didn’t want to ruin the mood, so he took the envelope with a smile and opened it.

He choked.

‘What is it?’ asked Sirius, rising out of his chair and craning his neck to try and read the words on the parchment.

‘Dad,’ grunted James from beside Regulus, also stunned.

Regulus looked up at the Potters. ‘I – I can’t—’

‘It’s nothing compared to what we owe you,’ said Mr Potter, and Mrs Potter nodded fervently, taking her husband’s hand.

‘The anticipation is killing me here,’ said Sirius. ‘What is it?’

Regulus turned it around so that he and Remus could read what he’d just read.

It was the deed to a house in Hogsmeade.

Sirius’ jaw dropped.

‘We know you have one more year of school and Jamie hasn’t stopped talking about how worried he is leaving you there alone. We thought if you had a place to go, maybe meet up with each other …’ Mr Potter reached out and put his hand on Regulus’ arm. ‘I could buy you all of Hogsmeade and still it would not be enough to thank you for saving Effie. But I hope you know we love you. You’re part of this family. The house is yours.’

Tears filled Regulus’ eyes as he looked from Mr Potter to Mrs Potter, astounded. Not just because of the impossibly gracious gift but because of his words.

‘Thank – thank you,’ he choked out, the tears falling freely then.

He could not remember the last time his parents had said those words.

We love you.

He stood and Mr Potter met him in a warm hug.

‘Thank you, my boy,’ he said. ‘James could not have chosen a finer man.’

‘Fuck. Now I’m gonna cry,’ said Sirius.

Mrs Potter came around the table and kissed Regulus on both cheeks in the most wonderfully motherly way.

When they all sat back down, James leaned over and kissed him. ‘Do you want my present now or later?’ he asked, winking conspiratorially at Regulus.

‘Oh, now,’ said Sirius. ‘Come on, we’re all in tears, Prongs. It’s your turn.’

‘Go on,’ said Remus. He gestured between them. ‘Unless it’s private?’

‘Ew, Moony.’ Sirius elbowed him.

‘Shush,’ said James. ‘It’s not private. Merlin, Moony.’

Regulus blushed.

‘Here.’ James picked up something that had been on the ground beneath his chair. It was a very old, very worn book with a bookmark tucked in a quarter of the way through.

Intrigued, Regulus opened the book to the marked page. The parchment inside was ancient, the words written by hand centuries ago.

‘Oh,’ said Sirius. ‘It’s a very old book.’

‘It’s not just an old book,’ huffed James. ‘Shut up.’

‘Apologies, Prongs-y, it’s a very, very, very old book. Well done, mate.’

‘I’m going to—’

‘A spell for house elves,’ said Regulus, cutting James off as he read the words aloud in utter astonishment. ‘By Warwick Flamel.’

He looked back up at James, whose eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. ‘Keep reading.’

‘House elves can do actual spells?’ asked Sirius, his intrigue suddenly piqued. ‘Since when?’

Ignoring him, Regulus read on. ‘For the house elf whose master won’t free them, this spell will transfer the magic either back to the elf themself or to the soul of their choosing. The spell can also be used by one elf to free another or to free an entire bloodline. (For each diversion, see the amendments and footnotes. A similar spell and counter spell exists for humans but was outlawed in 1593. See pages 120-134 and pages 451-462.)’

Regulus looked back up at James, absolutely blown away. He was holding the key to free Kreacher. To free any house elf. He could give the spell to them all.

James was grinning from ear to ear. ‘How’d I do?’

Regulus almost proposed to him on the spot.

After a wonderful breakfast, the Potter parents left the boys alone and the foursome headed out into the back field. They whiled away the hours playing two-on-two Quidditch until it began to snow and headed back inside for hot chocolate and a board game (although Sirius and James couldn’t stop bickering about which one).

As they piled onto the sofas, Sirius nudged Regulus with his foot. ‘I still can’t believe you got a house.’

‘Neither can I.’ Regulus shook his head at James. ‘Your parents are too nice.’

‘You saved my mum’s life,’ said James, waving it off like a house was not an absolutely astounding gift to give someone. ‘Nothing is too big.’

‘In that case, I want a candy cane the size of the Eiffel Tower,’ he teased.

‘Done,’ said James, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It felt normal. Simple. Wonderful.

In the safety of the Potter home, Regulus felt safe and almost able to forget the war.

Almost.

‘Wish you could stay here all break,’ Sirius said quietly to Remus. Regulus’ eyes darted to them, worry mounting. ‘I hate that you have to go home at all.’

Remus kissed the top of Sirius’ head. ‘My father and mother are leaving to see my grandparents for the rest of the month. I’ll have loads of free time then.’

Regulus felt appalled on Remus’ behalf, but he knew the complicated feelings of disappointing parents and knew it wouldn’t help Remus to pile on.

‘Are they gone tomorrow?’ asked Sirius.

‘Until the new year.’

‘We’ll come over after he leaves,’ said James immediately. ‘Help you pack. You can stay with us.’

‘Prongs—’

‘You are not spending the rest of the holidays alone, Moony. Not a chance.’

‘Your parents won’t mind?’

‘Mum! Dad!’ James’ yell cut through the house.

‘Prongs,’ hissed Remus, eyes wide. ‘No, don’t—’

Mrs Potter peered around the door that led into the kitchen. ‘Yes, dear?’

James gestured to Remus. ‘Moony’s folks are going away until the new year. Can he stay with us?’

Mrs Potter nodded without hesitation. ‘Of course, sweetheart,’ she said to Remus. ‘You are most welcome. It’s nice to have a full house.’

‘I don’t wish to impose—’

‘Nonsense. Jamie, go help set up the room by Regulus.’

‘On it.’ James kissed Regulus before darting out of the room. ‘Padfoot!’ he yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared.

‘Be right back!’ Sirius winked at Remus before sprinting after James.

Regulus glanced at Remus. ‘I do believe we’ve been taken in.’

‘Bless them.’

Neither seemed quite able to process their gratitude.

Pushing up from the sofa cushions, Regulus moved over to sit beside Remus. ‘So, I had a thought.’

‘I love thoughts.’ Remus grinned. ‘Tell me.’

‘I don’t know what they’re planning to do after graduation, but I wanted to say – if you want, you can stay in the house. It’s near the Shrieking Shack going off the address, so you’ll be safe during the full moon. And you’ll be near Dumbledore. You could look for a job you want rather than a job just to stay housed and fed. What do you reckon? I know my final year would feel less lonely if I could see you on weekends. Only if you want, of course. But you – I don’t want you to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. So what do you reckon?’

Remus stared at him. ‘Regulus …’

‘You don’t have to say yes now,’ he added hastily. ‘Please don’t feel put on the spot. But I know what it’s like to have nowhere to land. I want you to know that you have that.’

‘No, it’s not that,’ said Remus. ‘I’m only trying to figure out if it’s your birthday or mine.’

Regulus laughed. ‘Tell me about it. Is that a yes?’

‘Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.’ Remus sat forwards and Regulus met him in a tight embrace.

It was something most people took for granted – having a safe place to go. A door open to you, a bed available. It was a security, a foundation, few other gifts could match.

‘Happy birthday, Regulus,’ Remus whispered into his ear. ‘I hope it was a good one.’

‘It was,’ said Regulus, and he truly meant it.

He couldn’t ever remember being so happy.

Chapter Text

The days at the Potters’ passed in an almost dreamlike state for Regulus. Everything was simply perfect and he didn’t remotely know how to process the serenity. There was no fighting in the Potter home, no fear or avoidance of each other. Everyone minded their own business and gave each other space. (Most surprising of this realisation was the fact that Sirius had apparently mastered the art of respecting boundaries in the Potter home, something Regulus wasn’t sure he’d ever learn the concept of.) As the holiday passed in a flurry of games, cooking, pranks, talking and nights out in the small town, Regulus felt the bulk of his anxieties ebb away without his realising it.

Regulus did not receive a letter from his parents, though he wasn’t sure if he was more or less surprised than if they’d bothered, even after the Dark Lord’s public approval of him. They had never loved him growing up, not even the Dark Lord was going to change that – at least not privately. But Regulus did not let it bother him as it once would have and focused instead on the family that surrounded him voluntarily.

Still, his fears did not abate entirely and on Christmas morning, Regulus awoke from a less than lovely dream – in this particular horror reel, Sirius betrayed him to his parents and his mother tortured him until the Dark Lord arrived to finish the job – only to find James in the bed beside him, arms wrapped around his waist, face tucked into the back of his neck. He had a vague recollection of James crawling into his bed sometime around midnight. He exhaled slowly, heart lessening its gallop. Pushing the nightmare to the back of his mind where it could sit and rot, Regulus forced himself not to think about it until later.

Frost covered the window and snow covered the ground beyond, ensuring that everything felt truly picturesque and helped offer a comforting visual to keep him grounded in reality.

‘’Morning, boyfriend.’ James leaned over him, a smile crinkling his face, which already had several amusingly shaped creases from the pillow, messy hair going in every direction. As ever, James was the most beautifully put together mess he’d ever seen.

And, just like that, the nightmare faded away and Regulus smiled. ‘’Morning, love.’

James reached up, brushing the hair back from his eyes; his hand lingered against Regulus’ cheek. ‘Are you happy?’ he asked like he wasn’t sure. Like he was ready to do everything to make it so.

‘I’m smiling,’ said Regulus, grin only broadening as he held James’ open, loving gaze. ‘And that’s not nothing.’

No one else was awake yet when Regulus and James wandered into the kitchen. Regulus set about tending to the fire in the chimney whilst James set about making hot chocolate.

‘There’s something about you and firewood – very hot.’

Regulus glanced over his shoulder, grinning. James was leaning against the sink, surveying Regulus with open longing.

‘That right?’

Expression somewhere between hungry and admiring, James pulled a Muggle camera out of the kitchen drawer and took a photograph of Regulus.

Regulus snorted, raking a hand through his hair to comb it belatedly. ‘You’re ridiculous, Potter. I must look appalling.’

‘You love me. And you look edible, baby.’

Regulus returned to making the fire, unable to stifle his ridiculously broad smile.

The smell of cocoa, marshmallows and firewood soon mingled in the air and made the kitchen a truly cosy place to spend a wintry morning.

Dusting off his hands, Regulus joined James at the table and took the mug placed in front of him.

A sudden pop made them both start, but they relaxed upon realising who it was.

‘Good morning, Master Regulus, sir,’ said Kreacher. ‘Happy Christmas.’

Regulus beamed at him. ‘Happy Christmas, Kreacher.’

James echoed the greeting and added, ‘Tea or hot chocolate?’

Kreacher looked to Regulus uncertainly, wary of offerings from other wizards.

Regulus shrugged and winked. ‘Up to you. I’d go for hot chocolate.’

Kreacher’s eyes lit up, and thankfully James took notice. ‘Three chocolates it is.’

As James busied himself in the kitchen, Regulus accio’d the book James had given him and opened it to the marked page. He turned it around and offered it to Kreacher.

The house elf took it curiously and read the ancient words, brow furrowing as he went.

‘What do you think?’ Regulus asked when his eyes stopped moving.

Kreacher read over it again before raising his head. ‘Master Regulus can free Nori?’

‘And you.’

Kreacher’s expression became hard to read. Which was odd. Regulus knew Kreacher better than he knew his own parents.

‘Is Master Regulus displeased with Kreacher?’

‘Not at all,’ he emphasised, chest clenching. ‘But friends should not have power over each other. So when you feel comfortable, you have the spell to free yourself from my family forever. You can help Nori – help everyone. I’ve made copies for you.’

He knew Kreacher would never take a forbidden book into his family’s home, knowing Walburga would search his things and Voldemort could easily discover it, so he’d made Kreacher hundreds of copies and was ready to make more if requested. He’d also sent the spell to the elves at Hogwarts. It was knowledge he wanted them all to have. To share. If the Wizarding World wasn’t going to give them a choice, Regulus would do it himself.

At last, Kreacher smiled and handed the book back, taking the copies from Regulus. ‘You are the only witch or wizard who has ever cared to ask if we were happy. Kreacher does not have many compliments for his mistress, but creating you was the best thing she ever did.’

Tears filled Regulus’ eyes and he leaned in to embrace Kreacher. ‘I love you, too.’

When they’d joined James at the table, three cups of hot chocolate awaited alongside a mouth-watering platter of cinnamon rolls that he and Sirius had made the day before.

‘Has the Dark Lord been by again?’ he asked, taking a sip of his cocoa. He absently moved Slytherin’s ring around and around his forefinger.

Kreacher shook his head. ‘No. There’s been no word.’

‘That’s good, right?’ James wasn’t sure he looked like he believed his own words.

‘Nothing with him is good,’ said Regulus, stomach churning. ‘He and Bella are doing something in Germany. But whether it’s spreading their crusade or just more indiscriminate killing, I don’t know.’

‘The Death Eaters all whisper that something big is looming,’ said Kreacher before blowing on the surface of his hot chocolate. ‘None of them know specifics, but they whisper when they come over. They all feel it. The Dark Lord will act soon.’

Regulus rubbed his jaw roughly. ‘Oh, Kreach – we’re going to the Lestrange Estate in a few days. Did you want to come with? We’ll be staying the night, so you’d have loads of time with Nori.’

There was no hesitation in Kreacher’s response. He bobbed his head eagerly, unable to stifle his joy. ‘Kreacher has been wanting to see Nori.’

‘Come by on Tuesday.’ Regulus winked at him.

Still smiling, Kreacher vanished.

In the wake of his parting, a heavy silence hung in the kitchen, like fear had taken physical form. One that was decidedly not Christmassy.

Regulus and James exchanged heavy looks and sighs.

‘Let’s talk about it after Christmas,’ said James at length. He reached across the table and covered Regulus’ hands with his own. ‘We deserve a holiday.’

‘Yeah.’

Rising out of his chair, James leaned down and kissed him before getting up and going to the gramophone.

The release of Christmas music helped them both get their good humour back and soon they were preparing breakfast whilst dancing around the kitchen belting out the lyrics to each classic song (and butchering at least sixty per cent of the lyrics in the process).

Regulus was just putting the first crêpe on when Sirius and Remus stumbled in. Both were messy haired and in their sleep clothes.

‘Happy Christmas!’ called James, waving a chocolate cake mix covered spoon at them.

‘Happy Christmas, Prongs!’ Sirius hugged him before walking to Regulus and putting a chin on his shoulder to watch as he cooked. ‘Did you add chocolate chips?’

‘I did.’

‘This is why you’re my favourite brother.’

Regulus chuckled. ‘Careful, James made hot chocolate. You may have to change your vote.’

‘Nah.’ Sirius kissed his cheek soundly. ‘Happy Christmas, bro.’

‘Happy Christmas.’

They smiled at each other.

‘Right,’ said Sirius, clapping Regulus on the stomach. ‘I’m going to roll a joint before Papa Potter comes down and tells me to wait until after breakfast.’

Everyone laughed.

‘You tease,’ said Sirius, pulling his rolling kit out of his pocket with a flourish, ‘but come back to me when you realise how much better those crêpes are going to taste baked off your tits.’

Remus choked on the coffee he’d just prepared.

‘Point well made,’ said James, going to join Sirius in making joints while Remus took his place mixing cake.

The rest of the day was spent largely doing nothing in that perfect way that rarely happens and should always be taken advantage of when presented with the opportunity. Owls arrived with gifts and letters throughout the day, but that was the extent of the interruptions. At some point Sirius brought out a Muggle projector and enchanted it to play Christmas movies. And for Regulus, who had never seen a Muggle Christmas film, curled up on the floor beneath piles of blankets, James’ arms around him, no holiday could have surpassed it.

The first day of the full moon, James told his parents they were going to Peter’s, and the four headed off to the Lestrange Estate with Kreacher.

Regulus felt a little on edge until they arrived and found the place was indeed empty of Death Eaters.

Nori opened the door and waved them inside. ‘Mistress did mention after your last visit that you have a standing invitation.’

‘Did Mistress happen to mention if you had to tell her?’ asked Regulus coyly.

Nori winked. ‘Mistress did not.’

‘Excellent.’

As Kreacher and Nori headed off, their heads together as they talked quickly, Regulus wandered after the Marauders to the sitting room. It was an impeccably decorated room that no doubt was more for show than actual enjoyment.

Sirius plunked down onto the nearest one, slinging his legs over the armrest and undoubtedly enjoying the prospect of wrecking Bellatrix’s furniture. ‘Why is it the worst people have the best houses?’

‘Is that a pointed comment about our family, dear brother?’ Regulus dropped into the chair by the fire. ‘Because, I hate our house.’

‘Oh, me too.’

‘I like my house,’ said James. ‘And your new house.’ He nodded to Regulus.

‘Point.’ Regulus winked at him. He still couldn’t quite believe that he had a home waiting for him when he finished school. The horrible untethered feeling that had chased him all his life had ebbed a little more with every day that passed since the Potters had given him the house and he’d asked Remus to move in with him.

‘I suppose,’ said Sirius. ‘But the bloody Lestranges have a forest.’

‘True,’ said James. ‘I don’t have a forest.’

‘I’ll grow you one,’ Regulus offered.

‘Oh, yeah! Your potion!’ Sirius clapped his hands together. ‘You working on anything new?’

‘Just helping James with the Animagus potion. It’s taking a while to gather all the materials. But I think I’ll be able to start in January when we’re back at Hogwarts.’

‘A few of the ingredients are harder to order than others,’ added James. ‘You remember.’

‘It takes ages,’ agreed Sirius with a sigh.

Remus, who had been glancing furtively around, untrusting of the manor’s walls, said, ‘Are you sure you want to do this? It’s highly illegal.’

Regulus waved a hand in question. ‘Because I’m not already risking my life and freedom in like ten other ways.’

This didn’t seem to reassure Remus, though Regulus wasn’t sure he’d meant for it to.

‘Well,’ said Sirius, ‘I’m hoping you’ll turn into a fox. Jamie’s right – it suits you. My cunning little brother. Plus, you’re pocket sized.’

‘I am not pocket sized, you berk.’

‘You absolutely are. Jamie, back me up!’

James grinned. ‘Well—’

‘Call me pocket sized and see how long you are not allowed in the vicinity of any of my pockets, Potter,’ said Regulus pointedly.

James clamped his mouth shut and mimed zipping his lips shut. Sirius wiggled his eyebrows wickedly.

‘Hard to know, really,’ said Remus, expression contemplative. ‘Do you have a preference?’

‘Suppose we’ll see.’ Regulus was trying not to think too much about what he’d be turning into. It was going to be difficult enough to get through the potion and ritual – getting his hopes up or fretting about what he’d be in the end would simply distract him.

They spent most of the afternoon exploring the Lestrange Estate’s empty rooms, as well as the grounds, forest and ancient cemetery. It was a manor with centuries of history lurking in its walls and there was a high chance they would never get such an opportunity again. But while they found nothing helpful, they were all deeply scarred by the experience of investigating Bellatrix’s bedroom.

Around midday they returned to the kitchen and made lunch with Kreacher, Nori and four other house elves who introduced themselves as Bamber, Prosper, Sonnie and Tyme. The Lestrange house elves didn’t seem to know quite what to make of the friendly and inquisitive wizards who offered to help cook, but it didn’t take long for banter to pass between them all easily.

As they cooked, Kreacher told the others about the spell to free house elves and while Prosper looked ready to perform the spell on the spot, Sonnie proved less than enthusiastic and fretted anxiously for over an hour until Tyme soothed his worries enough to move the conversation along. Regulus was relieved, though, when Bamber and Prosper promised to send copies of the spell to their families and friends in other wizarding abodes and offer it to any house elf who asked.

‘At least if I die in this war, I did one thing right,’ he told Kreacher in a low voice as they carried the food into the dining room. ‘Although, James got it, so I didn’t really do anything, did I?’

A few paces ahead, Remus glanced back at him, his keen werewolf hearing picking up what the others already in the dining room had missed. Regulus shook his head quickly, not wanting him to react to it and Remus nodded. But his worried frown did not disappear and every time their eyes caught throughout the meal, Remus looked like he wanted to broach the subject again.

Half an hour before sunset, James kissed Regulus goodnight, made him swear not to go anywhere near the forest, and set off into the trees with Sirius and Remus.

Regulus returned to the manor and went to the library where a fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Curling up in one of the chairs, he pulled his book out of his bag, more than happy to read in front of the fire for the rest of the evening. But as the night wore on, his restlessness grew, and he found himself exploring the grounds and cemetery once more for anything that might be useful. Wizards often kept things hidden in cemeteries.

He wasn’t sure what he was even looking for. But the Lestranges were such an old family, and had been entangled with the Dark Lord for decades now. Another look was simply sensible. Surely Bella had something in the house that would clue them into the Dark Lord’s plans.

Keeping his wand out and listening keenly for any sign of Moony getting too close, Regulus wandered through the graveyard’s headstones, taking in the names of everyone who was buried there: Lestranges, Blacks, Malfoys, Gaunts, Rosiers, Notts, Crabbes, Goyles and even a handful of Weasleys, Lovegoods, Crouches and McKinnons – familiar names he knew from family trees, school, books, rumours and legends. The Wizarding World was not large. There wasn’t a single surname he didn’t know and he could recall the causes of death of most of the departed.

‘You’re a Black.’

He whipped around, wand raised, a spell on his lips. But it wasn’t a Death Eater who had spoken.

A ghost floated above a nearby headstone a few paces away. She was beautiful, even translucent and, judging by her attire, many decades dead. He recognised her belatedly from the funeral. She’d been watching from a distance.

He lowered his wand, heart still tapdancing in his chest as his adrenaline spike ebbed. ‘What gave it away?’

‘You look like your father.’

‘At least I don’t look like Walburga.’

‘She’s pretty, from what I recall.’

‘She’s pretty good with a belt, too.’

At this, the ghost grimaced in empathy. ‘I’m sorry. My mother was the same.’

‘Not your fault. Just meant I’m glad I don’t look like her.’

She nodded at this.

In the distance, Moony howled, forlorn and lonesome, and it sent a shiver over Regulus’ skin. The scars on his chest where Moony had scratched him throbbed and he put a hand to them as pain cascaded through him. Seconds later a series of deep, guttural barks responded. Sirius.

‘You’re wearing my ring,’ the ghost said abruptly, drawing his attention back to her.

Surprised, Regulus looked down at Slytherin’s ring; he moved it around his forefinger with his thumb, finding that sometimes he needed to reassure himself he was still wearing it. Realisation struck belatedly and he raised his head back to her. ‘You’re Leta Lestrange, aren’t you?’

A smile graced her lips. ‘I am.’

‘Regulus,’ he said, gesturing to himself. ‘Orion’s youngest.’

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Regulus.’

‘It was a gift,’ he added, holding up his hand with the ring. ‘Evan Rosier gave it to me for my birthday.’

‘Is he your sweetheart?’

‘No. An old friend offering a much belated apology for being a prick.’ Regulus leaned against a nearby tomb and folded his arms across his chest to ward off the growing cold. ‘Our parents’ bigotries nearly ruined everything. It’s been a hard fight back to friendship. Sometimes I still hate him for what he did and said to me.’

Compassion softened her semi-translucent features. ‘Not much has changed, then,’ said Leta sympathetically. She exuded such a deep, desolate sadness that he suddenly wished he could take her hand and offer her comfort.

‘Is it true Newt Scamander found it in the lake?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation instead.

‘It’s true.’ She laughed, and his heart leapt with relief. ‘Newt always did find the most wonderful things. The most wonderful creatures.’

‘Did you love him?’

She nodded sadly. ‘But like your friend I let my family’s poison slither inside. It was too late for me. But I loved him. I love him still.’

‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

This offer caught her off-guard, but her smile slowly returned. At length she said, ‘If you ever happen upon his ghost, will you tell him I’m here?’

‘I promise.’ And then a sudden thought struck. ‘Did you by any chance ever meet Gellert Grindelwald?’

The query clearly caught her by surprise. ‘Yes. Briefly.’

‘Was he really in love with Albus Dumbledore?’

Of all the questions he might’ve asked, he wasn’t sure why he went with this one, only that it felt personal. Somehow.

She nodded thoughtfully. ‘He was. Another pair torn asunder by bigotries and fears.’

‘Do you think he was more powerful than Voldemort?’

‘Is he dead?’

‘Well, no. So I suppose the question is, do you think he is more powerful than Voldemort?’

Leta considered this, no doubt having seen Voldemort around the estate several times herself. Perhaps she had even known him in life.

‘I think they are incomparable,’ she said at last.

‘How so?’

‘I think Grindelwald’s redeeming quality was his love of Dumbledore. His love of magic. He wanted to have supremacy because it would give him the freedom to love who and how he wanted. To live without fear. I think he drove himself mad with wanting. Voldemort’s nothing like that. He seeks power, but he has no urge to protect, only control and destroy. He disdains and despises and mistrusts even his closest. Grindelwald was many horrible things, but I believe he would have died for Dumbledore. Does that make him more or less powerful? I don’t know.’

‘Would you judge me if I said I understood?’ He eyed her curiously, heartrate picking up. It couldn’t be a good sign that he related to Grindelwald and yet part of him did. The dark, ever disquiet part of his soul that hated living in secret as a wizard related to wanting to do something to change things. It frustrated him that they had to hide. That they were forced to. He added, ‘I don’t agree with his methods or his extremism, but I empathise with his frustration. Being in hiding all the time – it eats at you. I hate that we have to hide. I feel like that’s all I ever do. Hide my magic, hide my love, hide my politics, hide my feelings. At some point you just want to explode.’

‘I wouldn’t judge you for empathising, no,’ she murmured, and his chest clenched painfully. ‘For I understood, too.’

He put his hands into his pockets, uncomfortably aware of the increasing drop in temperature but not wanting to leave quite yet.

‘You know,’ she said suddenly. ‘You might be able to help me answer a question I’ve been unable to answer without that ring on your finger.’

‘Sure.’

‘This way.’

Leta floated towards a large, beautifully crafted tomb up ahead. Regulus followed at a slower pace, going over what he knew about Leta Lestrange and Gellert Grindelwald in his mind and wondering just how much he ought to trust her.

Inside the tomb, an overpowering combination of dust and damp and a cloying, flowery scent he couldn’t identify hit Regulus full force. And with it came a sinister feeling. One that crept across his skin; he could feel the magic in the air.

‘There’s dark magic here.’

She nodded. ‘The statue,’ she said, extending a long finger. ‘Tap it twice and say “forentum”.’

Regulus did as she instructed, jumping back seconds later when a staircase unfolded before him with a low rumbling sound, the stones perfectly rearranging themselves from the wall into steps. An odd smell drifted up.

‘What’s down there?’ he asked, wariness mounting.

‘A locked room with something secret inside.’

‘What?’ he pressed.

‘That’s my very question.’

Seeing no deceit in her eyes – and perhaps putting too much weight in Newt Scamander’s opinion of his friends – Regulus nodded. Raising his wand, he murmured, ‘Lumos,’ and stepped carefully down, Leta floating along beside him.

He came out in a chamber that, going off the stonework, looked like it had first been built in the eighteenth century. But there was nothing housed inside. He turned a full circle and saw naught but stone walls that curved in a nice slope to form a large round room.

‘There,’ she pointed to the wall. ‘I saw Lord Voldemort use Parseltongue to open it.’

‘Do you happen to know what he said?’

‘No. Only Slytherin’s bloodline or one wearing Slytherin’s ring can speak Parseltongue. I only learned of Voldemort’s use of this tomb after I’d died.’

Fingering the ring anxiously and wondering if he should run and find James and Sirius, Regulus moved slowly towards the wall.

It didn’t look like a trap.

He stilled in front of the stone and raised his hand.

‘Open,’ he whispered.

‘That was English,’ said Leta.

He exhaled forcefully and tried again.

‘Still English.’

‘Well, I don’t know how the magic snake ring works,’ he snapped, feeling a little defensive.

Leta didn’t appear ruffled. ‘It’s a passive, not an active enchantment. You have to be wielding it, not letting it direct you.’

Regulus pressed both his fists flat against the stone and closed his eyes. He thought he could hear a faint sound, and his urgency rose. Thoughts of James, of losing him, spiralled through him painfully. Would he too wage a war to get the world he wanted? A dark empathy towards Grindelwald built in his soul at the thought and he swallowed hard, not wanting to examine it further.

‘Open,’ he hissed furiously.

A pulse went through the stone chamber.

‘There,’ murmured Leta.

The stone shifted and neatly opened, the bricks restacking themselves to form a doorway. Inside the small chamber was a large podium. Upon it rested a notebook.

Exchanging an apprehensive look with Leta, Regulus stepped into the room. As he moved closer, he thought he heard whispering from inside the book, but it was so soft, he couldn’t make it out.

He stilled directly in front of the podium. Raising his wand, he said, ‘Deprehentarenum.’

Blue light flashed from the tip of his wand and hit the podium where it turned white before shooting up into the air and disappearing.

‘What spell was that?’ asked Leta, audibly impressed.

‘My mother taught it to me. It’ll detect objects with curses charmed to go unnoticed. Dark wizards have so many cursed objects that end up at estate sales and auction houses and such – you learn to check first before touching anything.’

‘Smart.’

‘Right.’ He thought a moment. There were a number of ways to break a dark curse on an object, but some didn’t always work and others tended to backfire if not performed carefully.

‘What about Bellatrix’s lockpick?’

Regulus glanced at her. ‘What?’

‘She has a lockpick that I’ve seen her use to break open a number of stolen items before. Rodolphus used it, too. It’s a powerful little thing. I think she stole it off a woman she murdered in Barcelona.’

Regulus cursed under his breath. ‘Where is it?’

‘Her bedroom.’

It took twenty minutes to run back to the manor, find the lockpick at Leta’s direction, and then return to the tomb.

‘If anyone’s cursed object is going to work, it’s going to be Bella’s,’ he said, and tapped the lockpick before jumping back.

The metal utensil rose into the air and slammed into the magical barrier around the podium. Once, twice. On the third attempt the lockpick dissolved in a pile of molten metal, but with it went the curse, which fizzled out in a flash of blue light.

‘Whoa,’ grunted Regulus.

‘Indeed,’ said Leta.

‘It looks like a diary,’ he mused, approaching the podium. ‘Do you think it’s cursed itself?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Leta. ‘But I can’t say for sure.’

Regulus took a deep breath. ‘If this goes wrong, get James immediately. He’s in the forest with the werewolf.’

Leta nodded. ‘I promise.’

‘Slytherins really are idiots,’ he muttered to himself as he stretched out his hand and picked up the book, heart hammering painfully in his chest.

He held his breath as he opened the diary, but nothing happened – and nothing was inside.

The pages were blank.

‘Well,’ said Leta, ‘that’s disappointing.’

‘Something’s hidden,’ he said. ‘I can hear it.’

‘Perhaps try a revealing spell?’

Twenty minutes later, both had more questions, no answers and sixteen spells which proved useless.

‘If Voldemort hid it, it contains something – or does something,’ he said, frustrated. ‘When did he leave it here? And has he ever returned to check on it? Did he take it away?’

He heard barking in the distance and knew the sound well enough to know it was Sirius; a howl followed moments later. Oddly, the animalistic sounds of his friends and brother helped soothed Regulus. (And he was pretty certain no one else in history had ever found a werewolf sound so relaxing before.)

‘Twice. Decades apart. And, no. He never took it with him.’

Regulus rotated Slytherin’s ring around his finger, thinking hard about what could be hidden within the blank pages that made it important enough to hide inside a cemetery on the Lestrange Estate. Bella surely knew of its existence, or at least knew she was keeping something for the Dark Lord.

‘I’ll bet you gold whatever this is, it’s something he’d kill for.’ Regulus suddenly felt very sick. He felt like the shadows were watching him. Like Voldemort was going to appear at any moment to find his vault open and Regulus holding his secrets.

‘Let’s go,’ he said to Leta.

She nodded and floated along beside him out of the vault.

Heart galloping in his chest, Regulus said, ‘Close,’ and Leta nodded to assure him it was in Parseltongue, and seconds later the vault sealed itself.

As he ascended the steps, gratefully inhaling the clean air of the night, he flipped the journal around in his hand, eyes dancing over it for a sign of something. Anything. It gave off a very dark sensation. Like touching it would bring bad luck. He wanted to wash his hands.

He wanted to burn his clothes.

‘There’s something wrong with it,’ he whispered.

‘What?’

He looked at Leta. ‘What?’

‘You said that in Parseltongue.’

‘Did I?’ Regulus glanced at his ring and took a few deep breaths. Concentrating, he said, ‘Am I still?’

‘No.’ Leta seemed slightly relieved, like she’d thought he’d get stuck in a loop of speaking only Parseltongue. ‘Not now.’

Slightly thrown, Regulus nodded several times.

‘Can you—’ She hesitated. ‘You can take that ring off, yes?’

Not missing the concern in her voice, Regulus tugged the ring off and set it on the ground before looking at her. He held up both hands and smiled, feeling a growing fondness for the ghost. ‘You that worried it’s corrupting me?’

‘No.’ But her relief was evident. ‘You never know with Salazar Slytherin, let alone Tom Riddle. I wanted to be sure.’

‘Fair.’

Picking the ring back up, Regulus slipped it back onto his forefinger. Somewhere in the distance, Moony howled again.

‘Please don’t mention him to Bellatrix.’

‘I wouldn’t.’

Regulus smiled gratefully at her. ‘I don’t reckon I should keep it on me,’ he mused, looking down at the diary in his hands. It felt heavier than it should, like its secrets were so great the diary could barely contain them. He also had the strangest feeling that it was watching him. That the diary knew he was there.

‘Agreed,’ said Leta.

‘Dumbledore might know what it is.’

‘Does Dumbledore know about the ring?’

‘No. At least, not that I have it. Why?’

Leta shook his head. ‘No reason. I just wonder if he’d say you shouldn’t wear it.’

‘I’m fighting Voldemort. I’m never taking it off.’

‘Good point. Do you think you can bring the journal to Dumbledore without trouble?’

Regulus rubbed the side of his face roughly. He doubted anything would happen to it at the Potters’, but what if Death Eaters came by surprise again? What if, for some reason, Voldemort confronted him? What if a random thief stole his bag?

The possibilities made his stomach tighten with nervous tension.

‘Can you travel to Hogwarts?’ he asked, not sure how much help Leta was truly willing to give.

‘Who would carry it?’

Beckoning for her to follow, Regulus darted out of the cemetery, more than glad to put distance between himself and the tomb, and hurried back up towards the manor. Inside, he found Kreacher with Nori and the rest of the house elves. Not wanting to ruin their fun, which he knew was a rare thing indeed for them, Regulus joined the elves for tea, and he and Leta chatted with them for two hours until everyone began tapering off to sleep.

At last it was only him, Kreacher and Leta. Regulus quickly told him everything.

Kreacher nodded gravely when he finished. ‘Kreacher can take the diary to Hogwarts right now, Master Regulus.’

‘Thank you,’ said Regulus gratefully, tucking the diary into his bag and handing the strap to Kreacher. ‘Don’t touch it, yeah? Just leave the bag in the Room of Requirement and go. There’s something wrong with that diary.’

‘Kreacher will drop it and go,’ said Kreacher gravely, and then Disapparated.

Regulus looked at Leta. ‘Could you travel to Hogwarts and keep an eye on it? Just until the holidays are over? I have a feeling we don’t want it left alone.’

Leta nodded. ‘I’ll see you at Hogwarts.’

‘Thank you,’ he called after her as she floated away. ‘You may have just changed the whole direction of the war.’

She held his gaze for a long time before a small smile graced her lips. Then, with a bow of her head, she floated through the wall.

Alone, Regulus strode across the room towards Bellatrix’s writing desk and grabbed a piece of parchment from the drawer. Dipping his pen into the jar of ink, he scrawled a quick letter.

Professor,

Found something of note.

RAB

Tucking it into an envelope, he went to find an owl.

Only when the letter was off did he finally sit down. Exhaustion hit him hard and fast and in seconds he was asleep on the sofa beside the fireplace.

James, Sirius and Remus returned from the forest to find a quiet house. There was no sign of any of the house elves from the night before and Regulus was sound asleep on the sofa.

‘He looks so at ease when he sleeps,’ said Sirius softly. ‘Happier.’

‘I think he’s happier.’ Remus glanced at James for confirmation.

‘I hope so.’ James reached out, brushing a tendril of black hair away from Regulus’ closed eyelids. He shifted slightly, as if drawn towards James’ touch, but did not wake up.

‘I say we go.’ Sirius gestured to the fireplace. ‘I don’t fancy staying in Bella’s house any longer than we have to.’

‘Grab the Floo powder,’ said Remus. Then, to James’ surprise, he went to the sofa, bent down, and lifted Regulus easily into his arms.

Sirius glanced at James, eyebrows disappearing beneath his hairline. Smirking, James gestured to the fire.

Moments later they were walking out of the chimney into James’ sitting room. Remus laid Regulus on the sofa and stepped back to let James drape a blanket over him.

‘Come on,’ said Sirius, cocking his head towards the kitchen.

Leaving Regulus to sleep, James followed Sirius and Remus into the adjoining room. Sirius was already setting about making tea. James joined Remus at the table. The previous table hadn’t survived the Death Eater’s attack – too many pieces had been scattered or burned to fix properly – but his parents had found a gorgeous antique table to replace it. It didn’t have the carvings James had made as a child, but he liked it all the same.

‘Tea and then bed,’ he murmured. ‘We all need to sleep.’

Remus rocked his head. ‘Not sure I want to go back there this evening, but I’ll admit it’s nice waking up on the holidays without having gnawed my arm half off.’

Behind him, Sirius’ jaw visibly clenched. Like James, Sirius had a lot of strong feelings about Remus’ home life. But it never helped Remus to comment on it, so they had ceased in recent years. But the hearing of it never failed to get under both their skin.

‘We’ll head back around four,’ said James with a smile that he hoped didn’t betray his inner rage.

‘What will we say to your folks?’

James shrugged before nodding to the note his mother had tacked to the wall by the icebox. ‘They’ve gone to see Mum’s best friend from Hogwarts. They’ll be in Spain for the next three days.’ She’d told him about their trip before they’d left for the manor.

‘I’d love to be in Spain,’ said Sirius, turning with a steaming kettle and proceeding to make them all cups of tea. ‘All that sunshine!’

‘Nah, I love the snow,’ said James. ‘It’s so cosy.’

Sirius rolled his eyes.

Lips twitching, Remus lifted his mug and blew on top before sipping it cautiously. He winced slightly as he swallowed, as if his throat was sore from howling.

‘You feeling okay?’ James eyed him worriedly. Remus was always a bit fragile after wolf nights, though some mornings were worse than others.

Thankfully, Remus smiled believably and inclined his head. ‘I think with some sleep I won’t be too bad.’

‘Food, too,’ said Sirius. Drawing his wand from his sleeve, he summoned leftovers from the icebox. Several plates floated over and landed gently on the table. Sirius pushed a plate of muffins towards Remus, concern etched into his handsome features. ‘Eat.’

James grabbed an éclair and shoved half of it into his mouth. Running around all night as Prongs always left him ravenous. Despite being nervous about the potential arrival of a slew of Death Eaters, exploring new terrain had been fun. One of the things James loved most about being an Animagus was how much different living was while in animal form. The perspective of the larger world, his relationship with the earth itself, felt so different. Closer, somehow. He couldn’t wait to share it with Regulus.

‘Any luck with the dew, yet?’ he asked Sirius, mentally going over the ingredients for the Animagus potion once again. If Regulus started in January, he could join them for the full moon in February. James badly wanted to share the full moon excursions they took with Regulus before their seventh year ended.

‘Not yet, but I got the Death’s-head Hawk Moth.’

James reached into his pocket and took out his notebook. Flipping it open to the list of ingredients, he crossed out ‘moth’. Then, frowning, he underlined ‘dew’ several times. The dew and the lightning storm were always the trickiest. It had taken them four attempts to get the timing right the first time.

‘How much left?’ asked Remus. He hadn’t been part of their own attempts in their fifth year as they hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, so the intricacies of the spell were new to him.

‘Not much,’ said James. ‘If we get the storm and dew, he should be good to go.’

Sirius pumped his arm back. ‘Gotta say, if you’d told me a year ago that my little brother would be planning to break the law for us, I wouldn’t have believed you.’

‘He always wanted to be with us,’ said James softly. ‘We should have tried harder, sooner. I’m just glad it wasn’t too late.’

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Quickly putting his mug to his lips, he masked his expression by drinking several large gulps of tea.

But Sirius took his words up entirely differently.

‘I worry about how close he might have come to being forced into joining.’ Sirius sounded sick with dread. ‘Sometimes I still worry.’

‘Regulus would never join the Death Eaters unless it was undercover,’ said James. ‘You know he wouldn’t. He hates them.’

‘I know,’ said Sirius. ‘But I also know he’s a survivor. He’d rather be dark than dead.’

James snorted derisively. ‘He absolutely would not.’

‘Prongs—’

‘No.’ It came out a warning hiss and James glared at his best friend. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about, Padfoot. Or how close you came to having no brother at all.’

Shoving his chair back from the table and ignoring the alarmed comprehension dawning on Sirius’ face, James left the kitchen and returned to the sitting room. Regulus was still passed out on the sofa. He was on his side, his fists balled and tucked beneath his head. His thumb covered the snake ring on his forefinger, as if fearful that it would be taken in his sleep. His black hair fell like a protective curtain around his features.

Resisting the urge to climb onto the sofa and tuck himself in beside Regulus, which would certainly wake him, James dropped down heavily on the floor by his feet and leaned back against the sofa. His parting words to Sirius replayed in his mind over and over as he imagined what might have happened if he’d not followed the Grey Lady’s warning. If he’d been too late to save Regulus.

Sirius and Remus appeared in the doorway moments later. Both were pale, expressions grim. Both had realised the meaning of James’ words. James knew how much context it provided to Regulus’ behaviour all term and guessed that they, like he, were undoubtedly kicking themselves for not realising sooner how great Regulus’ despair was.

‘How close?’ The question left Sirius’ lips barely louder than a whisper. A breath. One filled with a choking, overwhelming fear.

James held his gaze grimly, and then held up his thumb and forefinger, closing them until there was only the smallest gap between his fingers. ‘Any closer and you’d be an only child.’

Tears filled Sirius’ eyes and he crossed the room to where James sat on the floor beside Regulus’ sleeping form and sank to his knees. He stared at his sleeping brother for a long time. The anguish, regret, sorrow, guilt and pain that danced in his dark eyes made James’ chest hurt. He knew Regulus would never forgive him for telling Sirius, but he couldn’t help but be glad Sirius knew. Sirius should know.

Turning around so that his back was to the sofa, Sirius drew his legs into his chest and stared at the wall, pale and unmoving. Remus joined them seconds later.

‘Next time he needs me, I’ll be there.’ Sirius sounded detached, but furiously certain. ‘Next time, I’ll kill anyone who hurts him.’

‘Get in line,’ said James darkly.

Silence fell upon the trio then, weighed down by a truth that had brought them together but which had, at its start, almost taken Regulus from them.

‘Why do I feel like this war has already swallowed him whole?’ There was a strange disconnectedness in Sirius’ question. Like he was a thousand miles away, plotting a battle of invisible foes inside his mind.

‘Because it has,’ said James wearily. ‘It’s swallowed us all.’

Chapter Text

The rest of the winter holidays proved uneventful and entirely cosy. For a brief moment in time, it felt like all was well. Regulus forced thoughts of Voldemort, the war, the strange diary, his parents - all of it - to the back of his mind, determined to take advantage of the serenity. Thus he and James spent much of their free time curled up on the sofa reading while Sirius, who did not excel at being still, took Remus on dozens of hikes in the surrounding countryside.

The Potter parents also took them to see the cottage in Hogsmeade they had gifted to Regulus, and he and Remus began making plans for the summer. Remus planned on moving in straight from the Gryffindor dorms whilst Regulus was going to be there for the summer to start with before heading back to Hogwarts for his final year.

‘You don’t want to move in with me, Moony?’ Sirius had looked crestfallen at this realisation, evidently not having been aware of Remus’ plans to move in with Regulus. ‘I thought we could get a place together.’

‘I do want to move in with you,’ Remus had said, taking his hand and kissing his fingers. ‘One day. But Hogsmeade is the safest place for me to transform. I’ll be near the Shrieking Shack. And it’ll be safer for me to live amongst wizards. And I do think moving in together when we’ve not even been together a full year is a bit fast. Besides, it’s not like you won’t be over all the time.’

‘Jamie and I will just get an apartment in the village,’ had been Sirius’ grumpy reply. Clearly to him it wasn’t too fast at all, but he let the matter lie. And Remus had kissed his cheek and said, ‘Precisely,’ and that had settled that for the time being.

The village, forest, and distant castle were all dusted with a fine layer of snow when Regulus, James, Sirius and Remus stepped off the train in Hogsmeade and began making their way towards Hogwarts. They had spent most of the train journey talking about Regulus becoming an Animagus - which would take a whole month if they were meticulous and lucky. But Regulus loved learning about and mastering difficult potions and spells, and the thought of being able to transform into an animal at will was deeply enticing.

Peter, Marlene, Lily and Mary fell in beside them and after catching up on their holidays, presents, parents, and who had a fling with whom, the conversation inevitably turned to the latest tensions within the Ministry. More senior officials were openly praising Voldemort’s policies in the press and in meetings, if not Voldemort himself, and there were rumours of rooting out Muggle-born witches and wizards from the Ministry. Regulus had no doubt things were only going to get worse and his gut clenched.

Parting ways with the Marauders on the staircases with plans to meet up at dinner, Regulus headed towards the seventh floor. Alone, his pace picked up until he was all but jogging. The door appeared as he neared it and Regulus slipped inside. To his relief and joy, Kreacher and Leta were inside already and called their greetings.

‘Welcome back,’ said Leta, floating over.

‘Glad to be back.’ He grinned at her, feeling a little less frantic now that he could see nothing was wrong.

‘Any ideas?’ he asked, levitating the diary out of his bag and onto the desk. As with the first night, he immediately felt a dark presence coming from the diary.

‘Invisible ink,’ mused Leta. ‘Or perhaps a password in Parseltongue.’

‘That could be anything.’

‘I know.’ She made a face.

After several minutes of glaring at it, Regulus sighed, plucked it from the desk and nodded to them. ‘I’ll take it to Dumbledore. Want to come?’

‘I shall stay,’ said Leta, floating back a little. ‘I – I don’t think I am quite ready to see Dumbledore.’

He nodded understandingly. ‘Kreach?’

‘Kreacher would rather not, Master Regulus.’

‘Fair enough.’

Promising to update them after he talked to Dumbledore, Regulus left the Room of Requirement, diary in hand, and made his way towards Dumbledore’s office. He felt oddly exposed, even vulnerable, as if the castle itself might be spying for Voldemort. Ever since finding the thing, he’d felt like he had emblazoned a neon sign to his back that read, ‘I stole from the Dark Lord.’

He felt a rush of relief when the Grey Lady floated out of a nearby painting and down to him, and accompanied him on the rest of his walk in silence.

Unfortunately, when he reached Dumbledore’s office, the old password did not work.

Regulus glanced at the nearest inhabited painting. ‘You saw me here last term, right?’

The knight nodded.

‘Can you go tell the headmaster that I need to see him?’

The knight bowed before disappearing into the back of his painting.

Regulus sent a nervous smile at the Grey Lady. ‘Thanks for—’

Hello, little heir …

He whipped around like someone had branded him.

The corridor was empty. Only him, the Grey Lady, the paintings on the wall.

‘Did you—’

I know you can hear me …

‘I heard no one,’ said the Grey Lady, looking around curiously. ‘What is it you hear?’

Come to me, little heir. Let me out. I will kill for you … I will take the castle back for you ...

‘Sirius, if you’re under that cloak being a prick, I will fucking murder you,’ he called loudly.

No response came.

The voice, too, seemed to have ceased.

Regulus exchanged an uncertain look with the Grey Lady.

‘What did you hear?’

A sick sensation slithered across his skin. ‘Something about heirs and death.’

The Grey Lady’s eyebrows shot up.

The office door opened and Regulus moved towards it, heart hammering. ‘Keep an ear out,’ he said to the Grey Lady.

She nodded, a pensive expression on her ancient face.

Casting a final look around the corridor and wondering if Severus Snape was hiding somewhere to fuck with him, Regulus darted up the stairs to Dumbledore’s office as fast as he could.

Dumbledore stood waiting for him when he entered and the rush of relief the sight of him brought almost knocked Regulus to his knees.

‘Ah, Regulus,’ he greeted. ‘For future reference, the password is peppermint twist.’

‘Good to know.’

‘Is that what your letter was about?’ Dumbledore nodded to the diary in his grasp.

‘Yeah.’

Taking a seat in the chair Dumbledore gestured to, Regulus quickly recounted everything. Dumbledore was particularly interested in Slytherin’s ring, but to Regulus’ relief, did not ask him to remove it or hand it over.

‘I’ve tried dozens of spells,’ he concluded, holding out the diary. ‘Whatever information is in there, Voldemort’s hidden it well.’

‘Perhaps it’s something other than information.’ Dumbledore sounded like he already had six or seven ideas.

‘If one were to hazard a guess?’

‘That I cannot say.’ Dumbledore took the diary from Regulus and set it on his desk. ‘You have done a remarkable job, Regulus. I dare say, if you’d consider it, the Order of the Phoenix would be honoured to have you upon graduation next year.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Regulus nodded to the diary. ‘Think he’ll notice it’s gone?’

‘Yes. But let us hope it will be later, rather than sooner.’

‘Let’s hope.’

Regulus turned to go and was almost to the door when Dumbledore called after him.

‘Be careful, Regulus.’ Dumbledore was peering at him over the rim of his glasses, expression sombre and grave, his hands pressed together. ‘You are an excellent spy, and remarkable for a seventeen year old, but you are not the first spy to double cross the Dark Lord. You are not the first to report findings of great import to me. And I do not want you to meet the same fate as too many have. I want nothing bad to happen to you. If I thought you would do it, I’d ask that you let me take it from here and have nothing more to do with any of this.’

‘The Dark Lord wants me, sir. At least this way it’s not for nothing. Without you, I’d be his puppet.’

‘You are no one’s puppet, Regulus. With or without me.’

Regulus offered a tight smile and took his leave without another word.

‘Got a letter.’

Evan looked up as Barty dropped into the chair across from him. Things had more or less gone back to normal between them over the winter holidays and neither of them had brought up their strange confessions again. Evan firmly believed someone had hexed them, though he could not imagine what anyone might have gained from it. Barty had spent most of the holidays at Evan’s house, furious at his own parents and daydreaming audibly of their future after graduation. Parental disappointment was something Evan knew well and he empathised with Barty even when he worried about the path he was heading down and the obsession he had with joining the Death Eaters. But Evan had a feeling his obsession with the Death Eaters had more to do with Barty wanting to infuriate his father as much as possible than anything else. Like Evan’s father, Barty’s father was never happy with anything his son did. He hadn’t when Barty was eleven and he certainly didn’t now that Barty was seventeen, and Barty’s love of the Dark Lord had intensified at the exact same time Crouch’s hatred of him became an obsession, both at work and at home. It was sad, but predictable.

‘Aren’t you going to ask who it’s from?’ Barty was barely supressing a smile.

Evan raised his hand, gesturing for Barty to continue.

‘From Bellatrix Lestrange.’

That was enough for Evan to lower his book and set it aside.

‘Apparently the Dark Lord isn’t wholly convinced James Potter is in the best interests of our dear Regulus. You, on the other hand ...’

Evan’s stomach twisted horribly. The last thing he wanted was the Dark Lord paying more attention to Regulus. ‘What do you mean?’

Barty leaned in, slender hands clasping together. ‘Look, I know you were a bit wary about the Dark Lord’s feelings towards …’ He waved his hand at Evan as if that somehow equated to homosexual. ‘But now that we know he doesn’t care, we should be thinking about doing things properly.’

‘And me with Regulus is proper?’

‘’Course.’ Barty opened his hands. ‘That’s how it should be, no? You, me and Regulus, working for the Dark Lord, making names for ourselves. Maybe you two can be my wingmen to get Bella. Wouldn’t that be class?’

Evan couldn’t deny that the thought of being with Regulus was everything he’d ever wanted, but when he told Barty he hated the Dark Lord, he hadn’t just meant because Voldemort was homophobic. No, he hated every single thing about him. There was something decidedly nasty about the wizard that no amount of power, respect or army would balance out in Evan’s view. But he could hardly say as much to Barty.

‘Regulus loves James,’ he said instead of everything spiralling through his mind. ‘He barely tolerates me as his friend after everything I did to him.’

‘That’ll change. He’s mad but he’ll get over it. By summertime, Regulus will be yours and I’ll have an actual excuse to be near Bellatrix. Next year is going to be amazing.’

Evan wondered if everyone was equally stupid in love, because he couldn’t fathom Bellatrix ever flirting with Barty unless it was to toy with him like a cat toying with a mouse. Aloud, he said, ‘By summertime, Regulus will be introducing James to the Dark Lord. I’ll stand no chance once both are Death Eaters. They’ll be even more inseparable.’

‘Leave that to me.’

Evan frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you’ll get your love and I’ll get mine.’ Barty stood and clapped his shoulder before turning to go. ‘I’ve got your back, E. Wait and see.’

‘What does that mean? Barty! What does that mean?’

But Barty had already disappeared out of the door.

Sitting back, Evan tried not to let himself wonder what sort of awful plan Barty was concocting this time. And trying, and failing, to ignore the dark, dangerous voice in the back of his mind that whispered to him to wait and see.

As classes resumed and the second term of his sixth year got underway, Regulus spent most evenings where he had no Quidditch training in the Room of Requirement poring over ancient history books with Leta, who had decided to remain at Hogwarts for the time being. They bounced ideas off each other about what Voldemort’s diary might contain, what it was he sought from his tests on Kreacher, and what his plans in Germany were. These final two problems felt like the most pressing, although Voldemort had not returned to test any potions on Kreacher since the previous autumn and seemed to be occupied with business abroad for the time being. The Daily Prophet reported that more and more Ministry officials in Berlin were openly praising the Dark Lord and were rumoured to be turning over names of Muggle sympathisers, but it was difficult to discern anything supremely helpful from the letters Bellatrix sent steadily, eagerly, but always too vague to give him anything useful to bring to Dumbledore. Regulus also began counting disappearances in the paper with mounting alarm. Wizards and witches were vanishing all over Great Britain, in Germany, France, Spain - anywhere sympathy for the Dark Lord was taking root.

Letters from Narcissa and Andromeda also increased as the weeks went by, with Narcissa noting that Andromeda seemed distant of late whilst Andromeda fretted over her increasingly obvious pregnancy and the impending banishment from the bulk of their family they both knew was in her near future. (One of Narcissa’s letters did note that her family’s house elf, Dobby, had freed himself, and she had been forced to hire a witch to help clean the house – a letter which Regulus had thumbtacked to the side of his desk triumphantly.)

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter hadn’t quite known what to make of Leta when he finally got her permission to introduce them. He could not blame her for being hesitant and wary, for she had lurked in the Lestrange’s estate for so long and had no doubt seen familial witches and wizards commit harrowing acts of violence upon their fellows. But she seemed to warm up to the Marauders quickly enough and soon the entire group was joining in on their nightly research sessions. That said, when Regulus did finally tell them about his discovery in the tomb, all four Marauders were annoyed with him for not showing the diary to them before turning it over to Dumbledore.

‘We always miss the cool shit,’ Sirius had grumbled.

‘Yes, digging into the Dark Lord’s tomb is the definition of “cool”, brother,’ Regulus had replied, rolling his eyes.

Regulus also devoted the bulk of January and the start of February to undertaking the long process of becoming an Animagus. They had had to study weather charts nonstop to time it all right - and if Regulus never had to keep a leaf in his mouth again, it would be too soon. Waking up at sunrise also got annoying quickly. But the diversion of nights with Leta, James and the Marauders offered him a solace that soothed his ever mounting anxiety - an anxiety that was only worsened by the strange voice that haunted him at random moments and that, increasingly, asked things of him that made no sense.

To Regulus’ mild amusement, the weather forecasted a lightning storm - which meant the final night of the Animagus spell - to coincide with February’s full moon, and so he determined to do the final stages himself as the others needed to be with Moony.

‘I want to know what you’re going to become,’ protested James.

Regulus grinned and kissed him. ‘You’ll find out in the morning.’

James pouted at this, but they both knew he would never leave Moony on a full moon. Prongs was the biggest and most capable of stopping Moony if a problem arose. James could not leave Padfoot and tiny Wormtail to deal with a werewolf alone.

And so, that evening, as the Marauders left for the Shrieking Shack, Regulus headed to the forest in the opposite direction. (James and Sirius had assured him they would keep Moony occupied on the other end of the forest.)

Leta appeared at his side as he walked away from the castle, always more comfortable when it was just the two of them. ‘Nervous?’

The wind was picking up, hinting at the incoming storm.

‘A bit, yeah.’

‘Hopefully you won’t be something really useless.’

Regulus snorted. ‘What’d be useless?’

‘I mean, you can’t exactly go running around in the forest with them if you’re an elephant, can you?’

‘I had thought of that.’

‘Or a whale.’

‘Is that even an option?’

‘Why wouldn’t it be?’

‘I’ve never heard of an Animagus whale.’

‘No one’s ever heard of the Marauders’ forms, either. I’m sure there are hundreds, thousands even, of unregistered Animagi. Surely some of them are water creatures.’

‘As long as I’m not a fish. If I’m, like, a toad, I can just sit on James’ head.’

Leta giggled.

They stopped about twenty minutes’ walk into the Forbidden Forest, near where Regulus had left everything he needed for the final steps of the spell.

‘Storm’s coming,’ he said, peering at the sky.

Leta nodded. ‘Get ready, then.’

Regulus took a deep breath and drew his wand.

Dawn was still crawling into the horizon when James ushered the others out of the Shrieking Shack, past the Whomping Willow, and up the grassy hill to where Regulus waited, Leta floating in the air beside him.

‘Did it work?’ he called, jogging the last few paces to Regulus’ side.

‘It worked.’ Regulus held out a cup of coffee. ‘Courtesy of the kitchens.’ He handed a bottle to Remus next. ‘Healing potion.’

Remus smiled. ‘Cheers, Reg.’

‘Well don’t leave us in suspense, bro.’ Sirius looked him up and down as if he could tell what sort of animal he was from his clothes. ‘What are you? I bet Jamie ten galleons you’re a fox.’

‘I went with snake,’ supplied Peter.

‘Raven,’ added Remus after swallowing the potion and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Or hawk.’

Grinning at their guesses, Regulus turned back to James. ‘And what do you reckon, boyfriend?’

James smirked. ‘Cat?’

‘Oh, so, so wrong,’ teased Regulus. ‘Remus is the closest.’

This prompted exclamations of excitement and renewed guesswork.

‘A bird?’ Utter delighted awe lit up James’ face.

‘What kind?’ asked Sirius eagerly.

‘You tell me,’ said Regulus and he transformed without warning.

The Marauders leapt back in surprise and excitement.

Regulus flew in a circle above them once before dipping low and changing back just as he landed. He stumbled a bit and Sirius caught his arm before he slipped.

‘Cheers.’

‘That,’ his brother raved, ‘was fucking awesome!’

‘A phoenix.’ James sounded breathless with astonishment. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Surprised?’ Regulus’ black eyes glittered triumphantly.

‘Impressed.’

‘You just got lookout duty,’ said Sirius, his arm still around Regulus. ‘And now you need a Marauder name.’

‘I do?’

‘Of course.’

The group headed off towards the castle all brainstorming code names for Regulus’ secret form. The monikers ranged from the truly terrible – ‘Feathers!’ – to the painful – ‘Flameboy!’ – but by the time they had reached the Great Hall, all five had agreed on Remus’ suggestion of Cinder.

‘Because phoenixes rise from the ashes,’ he explained.

‘It’s better than Feathers,’ Regulus acquiesced.

James pressed a kiss to his cheek. Yet his good mood evaporated when he saw that Evan, Barty, Milicent and Aurora were all milling about outside the Great Hall, clearly waiting for Regulus.

‘Want to join us?’ asked Evan.

‘Sure,’ said Regulus in a voice so breezy and friendly that James, despite knowing it was an act, felt a little thrown.

To everyone’s visible shock, Remus stepped up, all smiles and welcoming energy. He put an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. ‘Can we come? We’ve been talking about the elections in the Ministry – I’d love to know what you all reckon.’ His expression was absolutely magnanimous.

‘Yeah, cool,’ said Evan, rocking his head like this interaction was somehow normal for them.

‘How about we grab some food and go down to the lake?’ This was Barty’s addition to the bizarre charade.

‘Sounds good,’ said Sirius – and it was actually believable.

No group could have looked odder – young Death Eater hopefuls alongside aspiring members of the Order of the Phoenix, but James was committed to selling the double-agent angle, and swallowed his disgust. Somewhat more impressively, Sirius also managed to.

‘I wanted to say sorry,’ Evan began as the nine of them wandered away from the castle ten minutes later, coffees and teas floating beside them, bagels, scones and muffins in hand.

James kept his face neutral. ‘For what?’

‘Your mum.’

James froze unintentionally; everyone else stilled, too.

‘Mulciber was a right psycho,’ he continued. ‘I hope she’s all right? Your dad, too?’

Barty made a noise, but before James or Sirius could deck him, Milicent smacked him upside the head.

‘The Dark Lord said to give them a chance,’ she reprimanded.

‘Exactly,’ Aurora chimed in.

‘Sorry,’ Barty grumbled. ‘Mulciber was my friend, that’s all.’

‘Which is why we have to work together now,’ said Aurora, taking both Barty and Regulus by the arms and steering them on. ‘Secrets kill wizarding kind and we’re too few as we are.’

Sirius caught James’ eye, clearly struggling not to lose it. Also fighting at least three internal battles with himself, James drowned his feelings in coffee.

‘How is Bellatrix?’ asked Evan, pushing the conversation along.

‘In Germany with the Dark Lord,’ said Regulus.

‘Yeah but how is she?’ Milicent actually looked concerned. ‘After Rodolphus.’

‘She’s on the mend,’ said Regulus, the sorrow in his face entirely genuine. ‘I think being with the Dark Lord is helping her.’

‘It is,’ said Barty. ‘She mentioned so in her last letter.’

‘You’ve been writing?’

‘Only lately.’ Barty’s ears reddened.

Regulus nodded, and met James’ eyes briefly before turning his gaze ahead. They were nearing the lake now. A light mist hovered just over the surface of the water. A few heads dropped beneath the surfaces at the sight of them – mermaids.

‘My dad says she’s planning something big,’ said Milicent as they all sat down on the bank. ‘A way to respond to his death.’

James felt suddenly deeply unwell and was glad he’d already sat down lest he might have stumbled.

‘Oh?’ said Regulus mildly. ‘To do with the reforms in the Ministry over there?’

‘Not sure, honestly. Oh! That reminds me!’ Milicent jammed her hand into the pocket of her robes and produced a letter. She held it out to Remus. ‘My dad wanted you to have that. No idea why. But it’s for your eyes only. I think he even spelled it.’

Frowning, Remus took the letter. ‘Thank you.’

‘See,’ said Evan, and he smiled at Regulus in a way that made James deeply hateful. ‘This is how it should be. Wizards all together.’

‘Precisely.’ Regulus winked at him.

James spent the next hour imagining different ways of beating Evan to death.

Thankfully they all had to disburse for class shortly thereafter and they were able to put as much distance between themselves and the Death Eater hopefuls as was possible inside the castle. But James hated every single second Regulus had to remain with them.

It was not until later that night, safe in the Room of Requirement with Leta, that the Marauders were finally able to discuss the morning’s conversation.

‘I almost ripped out my eyeballs every time that twit Barty opened his gob,’ said Sirius, lighting a joint. He rubbed his eyes roughly before squeezing the bridge of his nose. ‘Merlin.’

‘Imagine defending Mulciber of all people.’ Peter shuddered.

‘I can’t,’ said Sirius. ‘I have standards.’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ said Regulus quietly. ‘It’s my mess. I can—’

‘Not a chance,’ said James flatly.

‘No,’ echoed Sirius. ‘If you’re spying, we’re spying. Cinder.’ He reached out, tousling Regulus’ hair affectionately.

Regulus let out a strained laugh.

‘Here.’ Sirius passed him the spliff before glancing at Remus. ‘Did you read that letter from Avery?’

Jaw visibly clenching, Remus inclined his head.

‘And?’

‘And he wants to form a unit of werewolves for Lord Voldemort.’

‘Merlin,’ whispered Peter.

Sirius paled. ‘Avery knows about you?’

Remus too looked sick. ‘His letter mentions that Voldemort only told him for recruitment purposes, and he said not all the Death Eaters know - just him, Snape, Voldemort and Greyback, apparently. But that’s if you even believe him ...’

‘I don’t.’ Sirius did a double-take, brow furrowing. ‘Wait, did you say Greyback?’

‘I don't know if he’s connected the dots, but yes.’

‘Motherfucker.’

Beside James, Regulus suddenly tensed, drawing everyone’s attention.

‘You all right?’ he asked in a low voice.

Regulus glared at the wall for a second before glancing at James. ‘Fine. Sorry. Thought I heard something.’

James glanced around. ‘What?’

‘Thought someone was in the hallway or something.’

‘If you can hear anything in the hallway, you have the ears of a bat,’ said Sirius. ‘Those walls are solid stone.’

‘I am a bird now.’ Regulus laughed and sounded normal enough, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Unable to quell his worries, James watched Regulus throughout the evening. He looked at the wall every so often like he thought someone was listening in to their conversation. He didn’t relax again and he fidgeted more than normal. But when James asked him about it at the end of the night, Regulus said he didn’t know what James was talking about.

‘I’m just distracted and tired,’ he said, pressing a kiss to James’ cheek. ‘I need to sleep, that’s all.’

‘All right.’

James could not have believed him less.

Regulus was in the middle of Ancient Runes when the voice cut through the silence of the room like the cracking of a whip.

Let me out, young heir … I know you can hear me …

Regulus tossed his quill down and rubbed his temples, forcing himself to breathe deeply and not let a panic attack take hold. He was starting to wonder if the voice was actually inside his own head.

The heir of what? It made no sense.

Beside him, Evan frowned. ‘You good?’ he mouthed.

Regulus jerked his head to the side, jaw clenched too tightly to respond. He had debated telling James a thousand times over the last couple of weeks, but something had held him back. He wasn’t sure why. He just knew they’d seen him break down too many times that year already. But he wondered if telling Evan might not be the worst idea. For all that Evan had done to him, Evan was also his oldest friend. The one he’d always gone to in every previous year. And when the voice came again and his fingers curled into his hair until he was almost yanking his hair out, and Evan put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed, Regulus suddenly wanted to tell him. Wanted to trust him the way he used to.

He lingered by his seat after class and gestured for Evan to do the same. Barty waved to them but headed out with the others when Regulus shooed him on.

When they were alone, Evan leaned in. ‘What's going on?’

‘I think I’m losing my mind.’ When Evan showed only curious concern, Regulus took a steadying breath and continued. ‘I’m hearing voices in the wall. All around the school.’

Evan absorbed this slowly. ‘Saying what?’

‘Dark shit. Killing. It’s telling me to let it out. To go to it.’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know.’ Regulus shook his head wildly. ‘I don’t know if it’s real or if I’m losing my bloody mind but it won’t stop.’

Evan’s hands came up, catching his face and steadying him. ‘It could be a curse, too, yeah?’ He forced Regulus to hold his gaze and he seemed remarkably steady in that moment. ‘Snape could be doing this. Or someone else. You’re not mad, Regulus. I promise you’re not. We’ll figure this out.’

Regulus sagged against him in relief and his forehead dropped against Evan’s. ‘Thank you for believing me.’

‘Of course.’

Regulus felt somewhat more collected as they left the classroom, his legs less like they’d collapse beneath him.

‘Perhaps it’s a Slytherin thing?’ Evan shrugged and gestured around. ‘Maybe the ring awakened something? Maybe take it off?’

Instinctively, Regulus moved his thumb over the ring where it rested upon his forefinger. Could it really be cursed?

‘I don’t want to take it off,’ he admitted. ‘I … I feel more powerful with it on. I know how that sounds, but it’s true. It feels like armour from Slytherin himself; armour to use in this war. Does that make sense?’ Regulus looked at Evan, hoping he didn’t sound absolutely bonkers.

‘I understand.’ Evan squeezed his shoulder. ‘But I do think we should research it a bit. Or maybe perform an exorcism.’

Regulus pursed his lips. ‘I mean, if it’s haunted, we can totally call the priest in Hogsmeade.’

This made Evan laugh and he slung an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. ‘I’ll hex whatever’s haunting you. I promise.’

‘I believe you.’

Evan beamed at him.

When they reached the Great Hall, Regulus headed on towards the Quidditch pitch while Evan diverted towards the astronomy tower.

The voice did not reach him at the Quidditch pitch and he stayed outside, flying around aimlessly, for several hours after training had ended.

Night had fallen when Regulus finally landed, legs stiff, body frozen, but feeling somewhat better. Evan was making his way over from the stands.

‘You up for dinner?’ he asked, falling into step beside Regulus.

‘Not particularly hungry.’

Evan nodded. ‘Do you want to take a nap and I’ll keep an eye out?’

Tired as he was – and he hadn’t slept in nights thanks to the voice – Regulus hesitated. What he really wanted was James. He never felt safer than when James was keeping watch over him. But he also did not want James to have more reasons to worry about him and the prospect of having to collect himself enough to keep James from worrying was more than he currently felt capable of.

‘Sure,’ he said at last, as they ascended the steps to the castle. ‘If you don’t mind?’

‘I’ll hex all the evil ghoulies.’ Evan dramatically punched the air and it made Regulus laugh despite everything.

In the Room of Requirement, Regulus changed out of his Quidditch robes and into a worn pair of trousers. He sat on the edge of the bed, rotating the ring around his forefinger. Evan sat down across from him.

‘Where did you get those scars?’

Regulus didn’t have to look down to know he was staring at the scars Moony had left on his torso. He sighed. ‘A werewolf. But I can’t talk about it.’

Evan’s jaw dropped.

Ignoring this, Regulus held up his hand, fingering the ring on his forefinger. ‘Think I should take it off to sleep?’

Evan shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have given you a cursed ring, Regulus. I’d never do that to you. I just think it’d be better to rule out the possibility that perhaps there’s some … lingering something that relates to Slytherin. You never know with our families or with old magical objects, right?’

Regulus made a face. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Sliding the ring off his finger, he put it on the desk beside the bed before stretching out. He added, ‘Perhaps I’m just insane.’

‘You’re not insane,’ said Evan. ‘Now get some sleep. You look like shit.’

Chuckling, Regulus rolled over. In seconds, he was indeed asleep.

There was no sign of Regulus at dinner, just as there had been no sign of him at lunch, and so James, Sirius and Remus grabbed him a plate of food and headed up to the seventh floor – Peter headed off with Marlene for, as Sirius put it, ‘A bit of necking.’

The door let them in this time, but James was not prepared to see Evan in the chair by the fire, nose in a book while Regulus slept. And innocent as it might have been, it annoyed James to no end that Regulus was shirtless.

‘Hi,’ he said, not entirely nicely.

Evan waved his fingers. ‘He’s sleeping.’

‘I can see that.’

Remus, far more capable of niceties than James, walked over and sat down in the empty comfy chair beside Evan. ‘He all right?’

‘I think the Dark Lord is stressing the fuck out of him and he’s not sleeping much,’ said Evan without looking up from his book. He looked like some kind of painting, perfectly put together, blonde hair artfully tousled, every garment of clothing cut to his figure to emphasise his thin physique. He was the picture of wealth and elegance and, whilst James was certain Evan could argue the exact same about himself, it made James loathe him.

Evan turned to another page before his eyes flicked up to the trio. ‘I told him I’d make sure he got some undisturbed sleep. So, please do keep it down if you intend to stay.’

That they weren’t welcome was entirely obvious and made James only want to remain more. More than that, though, it bothered him that he hadn’t known Regulus was having trouble sleeping again. He’d thought things had been better since Christmas. That, coupled with the idea of leaving Regulus alone with Evan left James more murderous than he’d care to admit, so he pulled his homework out of his book bag and gestured for Sirius to do the same. He had no intention of going anywhere.

With a nod and a look of utter agreement, Sirius also pulled his homework.

And so, for the next few hours, James, Sirius and Remus worked methodically on their homework while Evan read a very large book on what James realised belatedly was on curse breaking and counter curses. At some point Evan, too, dozed off, and by three am there was no reason other than total stubborn jealousy for them to stay.

Thoroughly put out and determined to confront Regulus about it in the morning, James gathered his things, kissed Regulus on the forehead, and then joined Sirius and Remus by the door.

‘He’s fine,’ whispered Remus, tugging at his arm. ‘Evan’s sleeping, too. We’ll sort it out in the morning.’

‘You’re right.’ Waving him on, James cast one final look at Regulus’ sleeping form before following Sirius and Remus into the corridor.

He closed the door firmly behind them.

Evan’s eyes snapped open the instant the door locked. Rolling his eyes at the door – James really had taken forever to fuck off – Evan opened his book back up and continued on from where he’d left off when it became clear that only pretending to sleep would get the hovering Gryffindors to depart.

On the bed, Regulus let out a small cry in his sleep and his fists clenched in the blanket.

Standing, Evan went to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Regulus,’ he called softly. ‘It’s only a dream. You’re safe.’

Regulus didn’t stir, but he seemed to relax slightly and his fists uncurled.

Evan’s eyes traced the scars Walburga had left upon his back and fury coursed through him anew. Evan had no desire to become a Death Eater, although he knew he would join if Regulus did. But part of him entertained dark daydreams of who he would kill during his initiation. To become a Death Eater, one had to kill, and Evan craved to kill both his father and Regulus’ mother.

Propelled by the desire to ensure that nothing else happened to Regulus, Evan cast a silencing spell around the bed and spent next four hours casting counter curse after counter curse upon the ring. He loved seeing it on Regulus’ hand, but the thought that he’d accidentally given him something cursed gnawed at him like a parasite.

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew for sure.

The nightmares plagued him endlessly, but Regulus somehow managed to sleep the night through, if restlessly. He awoke to see Evan standing by the window, attention on something on the grounds below.

‘You stayed,’ he croaked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Evan glanced over at him. ‘You had a few nightmares, but every time I called your name, you seemed to relax.’

‘Thank you.’ Regulus smiled sleepily at him. ‘Did you get any rest?’

‘I’m fine.’ Evan waved off his look of concern. ‘I’ll have an energy potion. I have a few in my bag.’

‘I feel bad.’

‘You shouldn’t. I can sleep anywhere. Besides, I’m not worried about curses hitting me from half a dozen enemies.’

Regulus chuckled humourlessly.

‘Your mates dropped by. James, Sirius and Remus.’ Evan moved away from the window and dropped into the seat beside the bed. Propping his feet on the edge of the bed, he added, ‘Your boyfriend absolutely despises me.’

‘Well, you were a prick for the start of our relationship. You are why we started our relationship.’

Evan raised an eyebrow. ‘Wait, what?’

‘James pretended to be my boyfriend to get everyone to back off. We weren’t actually official until winter.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

Regulus shrugged. ‘You missed a lot.’

Not wanting to rehash the past, he reached out to where the ring sat on the bedside table and slipped it back on.

‘The nightmares didn’t go anywhere,’ he muttered. ‘I’m hearing the voice in my dreams. Telling me to kill. Telling me to open the door. Calling me the heir. At this point perhaps it’s just me imagining it. But I don’t think it’s the ring.’

‘The ring’s fine.’ Evan said it with a certainty he hadn’t possessed the night before. ‘I spent most of the night hexing the fuck out of it. There’s no curse on it. Whatever you’re hearing, it’s not that.’

Touched, Regulus offered him a grateful look before hauling himself out of bed and stumbling over to his trunk. He pulled on his clothes before he trudged sluggishly over to Evan with his hair a mess, tie undone, eyes half shut.

Evan fixed his tie with a smirk. ‘You sure you don’t want to go back to sleep?’

‘If I miss anymore classes, they’re going to make me repeat the year.’

‘Doubtful.’ Evan clapped him on the shoulder and thumbed at the door. ‘But fear not, I’ll make sure no one’s aiming curses at you.’

When they stepped into the Great Hall ten minutes later – somewhat winded from having to change stairs six times as they kept changing direction – Regulus looked immediately towards the Gryffindor table. He caught James’ gaze and headed over. Evan followed.

Arthur and Lily moved down, letting Regulus and Evan take the spaces beside James.

‘’Morning.’ Regulus smiled at him. ‘Sorry I fell asleep on you last night.’

James held out a cup of coffee, which Regulus accepted. ‘Feeling better?’

‘A little. Do you want to dip into Hogsmeade for lunch later?’

The suggestion worked to rid the concern from James’ eyes and he bobbed his head eagerly. ‘Sounds good. I’ll meet you by the statue.’

Regulus leaned in and kissed him quickly on the lips. ‘It’s a date.’

Across the table, Sirius went, ‘Aww,’ and sprayed crumbs in every direction.

‘Charming,’ said Lily, wiping it out of her hair.

Evan waved his wand at her, vanishing the crumbs. ‘All fixed and lovely once more.’

Lily beamed at him. ‘Thank you, Evan. You’re a sweetheart.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

Their burgeoning friendship heartened Regulus. Was there a chance for all of them to make it through this war together? Such a dream had once seemed so farfetched as to be laughable, but sitting between Evan and James at the Gryffindor table, Lily now tossing pieces of cereal into Sirius’ hair while Remus laughed into his tea, it didn’t seem so impossible.

And then—

Let me out and I will come to you. Let me out and I will kill for you.

Regulus whipped around, searching the room for something – anything – that might reveal itself to be the source of the voice. But all he saw were his fellow students and the professors at the long table further on.

‘Regulus?’

He glanced slowly at James. ‘Sorry, I thought I heard Snape say my name.’

James scowled at Snape over at the Slytherin table. ‘You’d think between Dumbledore and Voldemort, he’d have had enough reprimands to last a lifetime.’

‘I think he just likes pain,’ said Evan, tearing off the corner of a croissant nonchalantly.

James grunted in agreement.

But when Regulus met Evan’s weighted gaze seconds later, understanding blazed in his bright irises.

Neither spoke.

Chapter Text

Regulus closed the heavy library book with a sigh. James and Sirius were at Quidditch training and he’d spent most of his evening pretending he didn’t hear a hissing voice in his ear encouraging him to commit mass slaughter every three minutes.

Rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to rid himself of his migraine, he dropped his head onto the book and closed his eyes. Neither he nor Evan nor Leta nor Kreacher had come up with a definitive idea for the voice’s source and in recent weeks, it had started haunting him more. Requests to be set free, to kill, to maim slipped into Regulus’ ear at random moments, at all hours of the day and night, and he felt increasingly like he was losing his mind. He hadn’t yet figured out how to tell James or Sirius, though both had noticed something was up and didn’t seem to buy his excuses that he was just stressed. Things with his brother and his boyfriend were good – for once – and Regulus feared that telling them about the murderous stalker voice might ruin the brief stretch of calm they’d finally received.

‘I have a lead,’ said Evan, striding into the Room of Requirement without knocking, face flushed and eyes bright. He’d only left to go to Astronomy and seemed to have run the whole way back to the seventh floor. He’d barely left Regulus’ side since learning about the voice. Regulus knew James wasn’t delighted by the resurgence in their friendship, but Regulus didn’t want to push Evan away again. He wanted to trust Evan when he said things were different this time and – though he would never admit it to anyone for a myriad of reasons – he felt oddly certain of Evan’s loyalty due to Voldemort’s words, goading as they were. If the dark mind reader himself believed Evan loved Regulus and wanted to make amends, surely it was true?

Head heavy with exhaustion, Regulus looked over at him. His vision was slightly blurry and he wondered vaguely if he needed glasses or was simply tired. ‘What?’

‘Well, I’ve been writing to my mother – figured, you know, good to keep all lines of communication open given all the …’ Evan waved a hand around. ‘I didn’t tell her about the voice or anything, don’t worry. But I was asking her about Hogwarts legends, family legends, that sort of thing.’

‘Right …’

Evan pushed a crinkled letter at him. ‘The owl literally gave this to me as I was walking out of class.’

‘Good timing.’ Regulus took the letter. ‘And?’

‘Have you ever heard of Slytherin’s Scriptorium?’

‘No.’ Regulus looked down at the letter. ‘What’s Slytherin’s Scriptorium?’

‘It’s supposedly a secret office in the dungeons somewhere below the castle. He might have information on the ring in there. Better, he might know what’s haunting you. Who better than the curse master himself, you know?’ Evan’s eyes shone with triumph and hope.

Regulus nodded approvingly. It was the best lead they had had so far. ‘Do you know where it is?’

‘No. But I have a vague idea.’ Evan nodded at the letter. ‘Apparently my great aunt once worked for the Gaunts. She learned all kinds of weird shit. According to my mum there’s a hidden scriptorium that one of their ancestors disappeared trying to find—’

‘Oh, good.’

Evan winced. ‘Yeah, I know. But you’re the best wizard I know and you’re not going off on your own without telling anyone. Cos, you know, that’s just silly. We’ll be fine. There’s also a hidden chamber they called Undercroft, but we can find that one later. I think the scriptorium is our best bet. If anyone knows about weird Hogwarts shit, it’s Salazar Slytherin. He might even be the cause of it for all we know.’

Regulus squinted at the letter, trying to clear his vision. The letter was vague about what the scriptorium might or might not have, but vague was better than nothing.

Let me out … Let me rip them all to shreds …

Regulus swallowed his scream, jaw clenched painfully hard.

‘So you in?’

Trying to ignore the voice’s next request, Regulus handed the letter back to Evan. ‘I’m in.’

‘Should we go now?’

‘No, let’s wait until everyone goes to sleep. The last thing I need is to wind up in detention. I’m already on the Head Boy’s shit list for being such a crap prefect this year.’

‘I’m sure you’re devastated.’

‘I’m heartbroken, truly.’

Yet despite his dry response, Regulus did feel bad shirking his duties. He’d enjoyed being a prefect the year before. But everything at school felt like it had faded to the background that year and he was struggling to return to the mindset that school was his top priority when there was a war breaking out and his friends’ lives were at risk and he was being haunted by a psychotic voice without a body.

Evan nodded and sank into an empty chair. ‘Did you finish your Transfiguration homework?’

Regulus held up the blank parchment he’d been ignoring all evening in favour of researching the voice. ‘You?’

‘Nope.’ Evan chuckled. ‘Fuck it. I’m not even sure I care at this point.’

‘I’m struggling to care as well.’

They exchanged commiserating looks. Evan, too, had been obsessed with getting good marks once upon a time. But the events of that year – Voldemort’s attention and his father’s abuse most of all – seemed to have done to him what Walburga’s treatment had done to Regulus.

The rest of the evening passed in companionable silence, both attempting to finish their homework – though neither really succeeded.

After midnight, the pair snuck out and made their way down from the seventh floor into the dungeons. Leta joined them, helpfully darting up ahead to check around corners for teachers and keeping them from getting detention as they made their way through the corridors.

At the bottom of the staircase that brought them to the entrance of the dungeons, Regulus and Evan said, ‘Lumos’ in unison and raised their wands.

‘Which way?’ he asked Evan.

‘It’s a fake wall that opens with Parseltongue,’ said Evan. ‘I’m not sure which wall. But you’ve got that ring. So let’s get cracking.’

The dungeons, of course, snaked off in many different directions, and there were dungeons below dungeons, and hidden dungeons that some students found and others didn’t. Regulus wasn’t sure if there was technically an ‘upper dungeon’ section and a ‘lower dungeon’ section of the castle even after years in Slytherin House, but in that moment he’d never wanted a copy of the castle’s original blueprints more.

‘Well,’ he said to Evan and Leta in low voice. ‘This is going to be ridiculous.’

Leta snorted.

Shaking his head in mutual exasperation, Evan nudged Regulus with his elbow and led the way down the steps and turned first to the doorway on their left. It would bring them towards the older classrooms which previous professors had preferred but which hadn’t been used in a few years; storage rooms and the basements below them; various closets and cupboards along the way; and at least two ‘pits’ with infestations of critters. (Regulus belatedly recalled Severus Snape once telling them that there were in fact five pits and at least three had flesh eating critters, though he’d never told Regulus, Evan or Barty, who had also been there at the time, how he knew that or where the other pits were.)

‘No time like the present,’ he said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows.

‘And least it’s more diverting than Transfiguration homework,’ said Evan brightly.

It was enough to make Regulus chuckle despite everything and the trio set off.

By four in the morning, Regulus, Evan and Leta still hadn’t found anything and all three were getting exasperated. Regulus had spoken Parseltongue at what felt like every slab of stone in the castle, but somehow they hadn’t actually made it that far down; yet his mouth was drier than a cotton ball and his head was throbbing and his feet were aching. There was always another tunnel, another corridor, another sloping descent into another room, another chamber, another pit.

‘Why did I never realise Hogwarts was this fucking big?’ Evan grumbled as they finished another storeroom.

Regulus yanked the door shut and dusted off his hands. ‘I think it’s purposefully expanding,’ he muttered. ‘This feels personal.’

‘I wouldn’t be remotely surprised.’

Regulus rubbed his aching eyes. ‘Let’s leave it here tonight and come back tomorrow. It might take a while and we both have a quiz in the morning.’

Evan’s lip curled at the reminder that despite everything they were contending with they still had things like quizzes and essays. ‘True.’ Raising his wand, he marked a glowing ‘X’ on the wall before following Regulus back the way they’d come.

It took them almost half an hour to find their way back to the Slytherin dungeons.

Set me free.

Regulus jumped.

I will help you. I will kill them for you.

Evan looked sharply at him. ‘You good?’

‘The voice.’ Regulus felt like he was being followed and he suddenly felt so sick and dizzy that he had trouble standing.

‘I don’t see anyone,’ said Leta softly.

‘Neither do I,’ he muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He felt utterly afraid, but whether it was of himself or something else, he didn’t know – and that scared him more.

‘Can you walk me to the Gryffindor common room?’ he asked quietly, unable to still the shaking of his hands.

‘Sure.’

Evan steered him upstairs. The castle seemed to take pity on Regulus this time and none of the staircases moved on their way. Outside of the portrait hole, Leta floated up.

James came down moments later in only sleep trousers, his hair a mess. He wasn’t even wearing his glasses. He frowned at the sight of Regulus and Evan and stopped short. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Can you stay with him?’ Evan’s grip tightened slightly around Regulus as he asked it, but then he let go and stepped aside.

James’ eyebrows shot up and his gaze cut to Evan briefly before he nodded to Regulus. Wrapping an arm around him, James said, ‘Of course. Come on.’

The trio walked in silence to the end of the corridor. At the stairwell, Regulus offered Evan a weak, drained smile.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Evan meaningfully. ‘Feel better, mate.’

Regulus nodded before trudging off in the opposite direction. James followed. He didn’t tell James what was bothering him and though he was evidently curious, James didn’t pry. He walked Regulus quietly to the Room of Requirement and crawled into bed beside him without question.

Yet weary as he was, Regulus could not shut his mind off long enough to sleep. He kept anticipating the voice. His heart would not cease its rapid pace and he felt like he’d just gone running.

‘James?’ he whispered, eyes clenched shut.

James tightened his grip around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. ‘Yeah?’

‘Would you still love me if I lost my mind?’

Lips pressed again to his forehead, his cheek, his lips, and then James said, ‘I would love you no matter what. I will help you find reason if you fear you cannot. And I won’t let anyone take you away from me, no matter how barking mad you get.’

Regulus buried his head in the crook of James’ neck. ‘Promise?’

‘I swear, love. You’re mine. No one else can have you.’

Clinging to those words, Regulus finally drifted off to sleep. But it was a sleep plagued by hissing voices and calls for bloodshed and pain, and he awoke no more rested than when he’d closed his eyes.

Determined to find some source for the voice, Regulus, Leta and Evan returned to the dungeons the next night, and the night after that. The voice also returned each day, fuelling Regulus’ desperation to find Slytherin’s notes.

When he wasn’t in the dungeons with Evan and Leta, whispering to walls, he was combing through books about the school for anything that might help. Part of him even considered reaching out to Voldemort, but he stayed his hand each time. Even if Voldemort did know the source of the voice, Regulus refused to ever be in debt to the Dark Lord. (He also feared that Voldemort might tell him to do exactly as the voice requested and directly violating that order was an obstacle he did not have the energy to manoeuvre.)

After another three nights without much sleep, the voice dogging him through the hallways with calls of death, pleas to rid the school of filth and vermin, and promises to serve him forever, Regulus found himself stumbling down to the Great Hall for breakfast and all but melting into the bench beside Remus.

‘You look terrible.’ Remus eyed him with unmasked worry. Despite the looming full moon, Remus somehow looked better than Regulus. The coming moon was supposed to be the first time Regulus went out in his Animagus form with the Marauders, but he didn’t think he had the energy for it. He had a feeling he might simply fall in front of Moony and ask to be mercy eaten.

‘Are you sick?’

‘Yeah,’ lied Regulus, although it certainly felt true.

‘Why don’t you go back to bed? I’m sure Evan can get your notes – although he looks sick, too.’ Remus had glanced over at the Slytherin table and his frown only deepened. ‘Perhaps something’s going around?’

‘I think you’re right.’ Regulus squeezed the bridge of his nose. ‘Where are James and Sirius?’

‘Quidditch pitch. Match this weekend.’

‘Will you tell them I’ve gone back to bed?’

‘Of course.’ Remus handed him a few slices of toast in a napkin. ‘Health before class, little star.’

Squeezing his shoulder gratefully, Regulus trudged towards the door, cocking his head at Evan as he went. Evan stood wearily and fell in beside him.

‘Where are we going?’

‘To get some sleep.’

‘Thank Merlin.’

They made their way down to the Slytherin dormitory and in minutes were dropping onto their respective beds. Regulus was too used to sleeping in the replica of James’ bed in the Room of Requirement to find his old Slytherin bed comfortable, but he was too tired to make it upstairs.

Just as his eyes fluttered closed, a voice slithered into his ear.

Let me out … I will cleanse the school for you.

Regulus covered his ears with his pillow and groaned loudly.

The bed dipped beside him and he raised his head to see an exhausted-looking Evan peering down at him through a curtain of blonde hair.

‘The voice?’

Regulus gripped the sides of his head so tightly he was certain he’d bruised his skull. ‘It won’t go away.’

Evan held out his hand. ‘Then let’s keep trying.’

‘We need to sleep.’

‘We need to figure out what’s going on. C’mon.’

And so, tired as they were, the pair headed down into the lower, lower, lower dungeons – slipping past students heading to class or skiving off lectures by hiding in empty classrooms – and carried on their search for Slytherin’s Scriptorium.

Yet it was not until two nights later that a door finally, finally materialised out of the stone wall.

‘Yes!’ cried Evan, clapping him on the back ecstatically. ‘Ready?’

‘God, yes.’ Regulus drew his wand; Evan followed suit. ‘Are you sure you want to come?’

‘Oh you’re not leaving me behind while you walk down history lane. This is way too fucking wicked.’

Regulus couldn’t help but love him in that moment. They had started the year as bitter enemies cursing each other verbally and literally, and now Evan was walking into cursed rooms with him, ready to risk his life to save Regulus’ sanity.

‘There will be curses,’ said Leta, hovering beside the entrance and peering inside dubiously. ‘And traps.’

‘We’ll be careful,’ promised Evan. ‘I won’t let anything happen to him.’

‘I know.’ Leta smiled tightly. ‘But this is Slytherin – anything could be down there. We might get answers, but we might also get—’

‘Fucked.’

‘To put it daintily, yes.’

‘Please let us find the cure for murder voices before the metaphorical fucking,’ said Regulus, holding up crossed fingers.

Evan laughed.

Rolling her eyes, Leta nodded towards the doorway. ‘Let’s go, then.’

James wasn’t terribly concerned when he arrived at breakfast with Sirius and Remus told them that Regulus was skipping his morning classes to catch up on dearly needed sleep. Regulus had been under the weather all week, and James wasn’t entirely sure what the cause was, but he’d slept in the Room of Requirement a few times now, and each time Regulus tossed and turned, haunted by something James could not fight or fix for him. It was maddening.

Trying not to fret, James left Regulus alone for the day, presuming they’d meet up that evening to take Moony into the forest. But when evening fell and the moon began to rise, and the Marauders made their way out of the castle, and there was still no sign of Regulus, his concern mounted.

‘We’ll check on him in the morning,’ said Sirius when James voiced his worry on their walk down the sloping hill to the Whomping Willow. ‘He’s probably caught the flu or something. He’s looked like lukewarm shit all week.’

‘He’s looked awful all month,’ Peter cut in. ‘I was going to ask if he was a werewolf too, but since he’s not here …’

Remus, who was never in the best of moods before the full moon, shot him a filthy look. ‘Don’t even joke about that, Pete.’

‘Sorry.’

‘He’s not a werewolf,’ said James flatly. ‘He’d be taking precautions if he was. We’d know.’

‘He’s just caught the flu,’ said Sirius, holding out his hand placatingly. ‘Now all of you stop worrying. It’s the full moon and we have more important things to focus on tonight. Regulus will be fine until the morning.’

Regulus, Leta and Evan had been stuck in the dungeons for at least ten hours and had, as of the last three hours, come to the conclusion that they were most definitely trapped. The first dozen or so chambers had been a headache, but somehow the easiest part. Numerous locks that could only be opened with the solving of a riddle waylaid them. But getting through those chambers had only brought them to more chambers, more riddles, more traps, more puzzles.

‘Fuck,’ said Regulus when they found themselves in another empty corridor that didn’t reveal anything except a very long walk in a tunnel that smelled like mould and algae. ‘We must be miles under the school.’

‘I wonder if the school really does go below the lake,’ mused Evan, raising his wand to illuminate the damp ceiling.

‘It does,’ said Leta. ‘I think we’re somewhere under the lake. But how deep under, I’m not sure.’

‘And you can’t check?’

‘I’ve already told you,’ she replied crisply, ‘I’m as trapped as you two are.’

It was something they’d figured out an hour into the tunnels when Leta tried to float through the walls to find them a way out. Whatever charm Slytherin had placed upon the passageway appeared to include ghosts.

‘We’ll have to keep going,’ said Regulus. ‘There’s nothing for it.’

‘But you’re not hearing the voice?’

‘Not since we stepped inside.’

‘That’s something.’ Evan nodded determinedly. ‘Let’s go, then.’

It was an hour later when they found the first letter.

‘This is from decades ago.’ Regulus held up the dated letter. It was signed Noctua Gaunt and dated 1889. The letter told him nothing new about the puzzles, as Noctua had come to the same conclusions and results they had thus far. ‘I know her name – she vanished. She was declared dead.’

Evan grimaced. ‘That’s not encouraging.’

‘I know her name, too,’ said Leta. ‘There was a massive search for her. It was a scandal at the time. Pureblood families rarely raise a stink about the school unless it’s one of their own that’s cursed or impacted – or fails a class taught by a Muggle-born teacher. But Noctua’s disappearance was different. Front page, headline news. Search parties. Rewards offered. They never found her.’

Regulus traced the ink on the ancient letter, a pang in his chest. The fear that he, Evan and Leta were trapped was frightening, but he still felt like, between the three of them, they would be able to outwit Salazar Slytherin. After all, they were three Slytherins and they had more than a little power and anger between them. But Noctua had been alone. Lost. With no one to help her find her way back out.

‘I hope she’s at peace,’ he said tremulously.

‘Me too,’ said Evan.

‘May she rest well,’ whispered Leta.

The trio carried on, Regulus tucking the letter carefully into his coat pocket.

The letters appeared frequently enough after that one, each leading them deeper into the passageway, with tips on Slytherin’s traps and charms.

And then they found the bones.

‘Fuck,’ grunted Evan. ‘Guess that’s her.’

Regulus swallowed invisible razors. ‘There’s another letter.’

‘And there’s a door.’ Evan nodded to the door behind the bones that neither had noticed, their focus instead upon the tragic sight.

Evan walked over and squatted down, plucking the letter out of the bones, careful not to disturb them. He unfolded it as he rose. When he looked back at Regulus, his expression was grim.

‘The Cruciatus curse,’ he breathed. ‘One of us has to perform it on the other. She didn’t have anyone to hex. That’s why she died.’

Regulus was already shaking his head vehemently. ‘No. No way.’

Evan’s tired eyes flicked from Regulus to the bones and back again. ‘I don’t think we have a choice.’

Regulus put his fist to his mouth as bile rose in his throat.

‘What is it with Salazar?’ Evan sounded like he wanted to resurrect him just to kill him with his bare hands.

‘Leta.’ Regulus glanced at her. ‘Is there still no way out?’

She shook her head grimly. ‘I haven’t stopped trying.’

‘Not even Azkaban wards against ghosts,’ Evan fumed.

Regulus knocked his head back against the cold stone wall. ‘Slytherin was such an arsehole. No wonder Riddle loves him.’

Evan sighed, nodded to himself, and tucked his wand away inside his robes. ‘Right.’ He jumped on the balls of his feet a few times and cracked his neck. ‘I’m ready.’

‘Ready for what?’

‘One of us has to cast it and I’m not torturing you. So, you do it. Come on. No time to lose.’

‘You want me to curse you?’

Evan looked at him as if he was thick. ‘If you’re hit with it again, you might permanently lose your mind. It still impacts you. I see it every day. You can’t get cursed again.’

‘That also means I know what to expect. I can handle it.’

Just saying so made pain reverberate through Regulus’ body, but he kept his face blank and determined.

‘Regulus—’

‘No, Evan.’

‘I can’t.’ For the first time since they’d trapped themselves, Evan looked truly afraid. ‘I’m not strong enough.’

‘And I am?’

‘Yes,’ said Evan flatly. ‘At least you hated me once. I’ve never hated you. I love you, Regulus. I couldn’t cast that spell even if I had the power to do it generally. You have to mean an Unforgiveable. And I’d rather kill myself than hex you.’

‘Evan …’ Tears burned Regulus’ eyes as his throat sealed shut. He looked away, back down the dark dungeon.

‘Mate.’ Evan’s hand wrapped around his forearm. ‘No one knows where we are. The last girl who didn’t cast the spell died down here. I’m telling you it’s all right.’

‘It’s not. I can’t. I can’t do that to you. I’ve never forgotten. I haven’t been all right since. I can’t do that to anyone, let alone you.’

Evan squeezed his arm. ‘You have to.’

They stared at each other, neither willing to budge.

Come Monday, James and the Marauders had realised two things: Regulus wasn’t in the castle or Hogsmeade. And neither was Evan. By Tuesday, the entire school was aware that two students were missing and Dumbledore was personally involved. But Regulus and Evan were just … gone.

‘He can’t have run away,’ said Peter reasonably. The Marauders were back in the common room, having just left Dumbledore’s office where they told him, again, that they didn’t know where Regulus and Evan had gone and were as confused as the teachers. (Mr Rosier, apparently, was kicking up a fuss.) ‘Perhaps they’re in the forest.’

James rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Why would they be in the forest?’

‘Maybe one of his potions went wrong?’

Remus pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘That’s possible, I suppose.’

‘Or the Room of Requirement sent them somewhere,’ said Sirius. He was smoking neurotically and hadn’t slept all night. Like James, he feared the worst. That Regulus and Evan had been summoned by Lord Voldemort. But when they had voiced this fear to Dumbledore, he hadn’t seemed to think it likely.

‘Did either of you ask Kreacher?’

James and Sirius looked sharply at Remus.

‘You didn’t even consider that, did you?’ Remus rolled his eyes. ‘Try calling for him there, Sirius. And be nice.’

Sirius straightened up. ‘Kreacher!’ he shouted. ‘Kreacher, I could really use your help!’

Nothing happened.

‘Maybe he’s with Reg—’

Peter was cut off by the arrival of Kreacher. Everyone jumped.

Kreacher raised an eyebrow at Sirius. ‘Yes?’ It was so much less polite than his demeanour towards Regulus that James almost burst out laughing.

‘Regulus is missing,’ said Sirius, uncaring of the house elf’s disdain. ‘Have you seen him?’

Kreacher eyed him doubtfully for a moment before Disapparating.

‘He really hates you,’ said Peter, barely smothering a laugh.

‘Fuck it.’ Sirius shrugged. ‘So long as he finds Regulus, he can hate me forever.’

It took Evan almost fainting for Regulus to finally accede to his request and cast the curse. He, too, was increasingly dizzy, thirsty and hungry. The only marginal improvement was that the voice had not reached him once since they’d been locked in the passageway and his mind felt clear.

‘Please don’t hate me for this,’ he begged, raising his wand. His hand visibly shook.

Evan smiled at him with such trust Regulus wanted to scream. ‘Impossible.’

Focusing on what Evan had done to him might have fuelled his rage a few months ago, but not now. They had mended too much for him to still be truly furious. So instead he thought of his mother. Of Mulciber. Of Lestrange. Of Bella. Of Tom Riddle. Of James and Sirius dying because he failed.

‘Crucio!’

The sound of the door opening was but a whisper beneath Evan’s horrific screams of agony. Releasing him from the spell immediately, Regulus caught him as he pitched forwards and helped him into Slytherin’s Scriptorium after Leta just as the door closed behind them.

She floated anxiously over to them as Regulus lowered Evan into a dusty chair.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He clutched Evan’s hands anxiously. ‘Are you – what can I do?’

Evan slumped forwards and rested his forehead against Regulus’. His whole body trembled.

‘I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.’

Regulus sat at his feet, holding his hands, and waited for him to calm down. It was another hour before Evan nodded that he was well enough to stand.

The room was filled with the strangest oddities and Regulus immediately spied twenty objects that were highly illegal. There was also a very large statue of Slytherin’s head.

‘He was really quite obsessed with himself, huh?’ said Evan.

‘He really was.’

‘This room is amazing, though.’ Evan limped over to one of the desks and examined what seemed to be a globe with changing maps – topographical, weather, physical. But the cities and towns and boundaries were from a time long ago.

‘Yeah.’ Regulus eyed him worriedly before going to a different desk. There were stacks of notebooks with Slytherin’s scrawl all over them. The ink was remarkably preserved, but the phrasing was going to take a while to decipher. ‘Might need your help with these, Leta.’

She floated over. ‘Ooh.’

A sharp crack made them whirl around.

Kreacher had appeared in the scriptorium. ‘There you all are!’

‘Oh, thank God.’ Regulus beamed at him. ‘How did you find us?’

‘Slytherin’s wards don’t prevent a house elf reaching their master,’ said Kreacher simply.

Regulus felt a curl of annoyance. ‘That’s becoming a theme.’

‘At least it’s a theme we can exploit,’ said Evan. ‘Kreacher, can you get us all out of here?’

‘You two,’ he said. ‘Not the ghost.’

Regulus glanced at Leta before casting a furious look around the room. ‘There has to be some way out of here for all of us. Everyone spread out. This dickhead likes snakes – so look for snakes on the walls. Might point to a way out.’

‘We should take as much as we can,’ said Evan. ‘We probably won’t be able to get back in.’

‘Good point.’

Regulus and Evan charmed two bags and quickly began levitating objects into them, careful not to touch anything. (It just seemed like a stupid idea.)

They had cleared three shelves and two desks when Leta called out to them.

‘Over here.’ She beckoned.

Regulus, Evan and Kreacher joined her by the wall. It took a minute’s squinting for Regulus to see what she’d noticed – a chip in the wood behind one of the bookshelves that revealed stonework underneath. A small snake was carved into the stone.

Regulus put a hand on the wall, summoned his focus, and said, ‘Open.’

It came out a hiss and Evan nodded confirmation that he’d successfully spoken Parseltongue.

The door creaked open and revealed a spiral staircase that went down into darkness.

‘I’ll check ahead,’ said Leta, floating off.

Regulus went back to gathering as much of Slytherin’s belongings as he could.

‘I’ve got all the notebooks,’ said Evan ten minutes later. ‘My bag feels like a fucking boulder.’

‘Mine too. Come here.’

With a quick spell, he made them weightless, and he followed Kreacher down the staircase, Evan on his heels. Leta met them at the bottom.

‘I think I’ve found the way out. Follow me.’

After days wandering through the passageways, Regulus was fairly certain he was going to have a terrible case of claustrophobia for the rest of his life and he all but sprinted after Leta. Evan seemed equally as inclined not to linger and didn’t ask him to slow down.

An hour later they were ascending an ancient set of stone stairs out into the daylight. It took Regulus a moment to locate the castle. They were on the far side of the lake. In reality, it wasn’t that far, but after days without food and water, it seemed like a trek.

Evan whistled, exhausted. ‘Oh fuck,’ he said abruptly. ‘We’re going to be in so much trouble.’

‘If it means no more voices in my head, I’ll take detention for the rest of the year.’ Regulus looked around. ‘We should leave the bags somewhere. I don’t want them taken away.’

‘Where?’

He made a face. ‘Kreacher, can you take them to the Shrieking Shack for the time being?’

Kreacher nodded and took the bags. He Disapparated with a wave of his hand and a promise to be by later.

Regulus and Evan then began making their way back towards the castle, Leta hovering in the air beside them.

‘What should we tell them?’ Evan ran his fingers through his greasy hair. ‘My father’s going to absolutely murder me if he’s been forced to come out to the castle.’

‘Tell him the truth,’ said Regulus. ‘Just not the part about me. Voldemort will be ecstatic to know we’ve found the scriptorium and we don’t have to give over everything. If we have to we can send him something to shut him up while we research the notes.’

Evan nodded. ‘Right. And Dumbledore? Do we tell him about the voice?’

After a pause, Regulus shook his head. ‘I want answers first.’

‘It’s your head,’ said Evan. ‘It’s your call.’

The Slytherin Quidditch players, high in the sky above the pitch, spotted them first, and in seconds had flown down and began peppering Regulus and Evan with questions about where they had been the last couple of days. On a whim, Regulus lied that he and Evan had wandered into the Forbidden Forest and got lost. This only increased everyone’s curiosity and Regulus and Evan spent the walk up to the castle fielding questions about which were scarier one on one – a centaur or a giant spider.

The rest of the week was largely uneventful after the professors and Evan’s parents finally left them alone about their whereabouts. Mr Rosier let the matter go when Evan told him privately about the scriptorium and, to both of their shock, told his son he’d done a good job. Dumbledore, who Regulus had offered his memories of the scriptorium to but which Dumbledore thankfully declined to see, told him to be careful going forward but congratulated him on finding the room’s location. He also assured Regulus that he would personally retrieve the bones from the passageway.

The Marauders were in turns elated, curious and furious at Regulus’ story of finding the hidden door with Evan and all that had come after.

‘You should have brought us along,’ said Sirius grumpily.

They were all in the Shrieking Shack, sorting through the bags of Slytherin’s stuff. Sirius, who was well used to dark objects, had been tasked with getting them out of the bags; James and Remus were labelling and taking notes; Peter was arranging the notebooks by date. Everyone was taking care not to directly touch a single object.

‘I didn’t want to worry you.’

James frowned. ‘Why would you looking for Slytherin’s Scriptorium worry us?’

Not wanting to tell them about the voice yet, Regulus simply shrugged. ‘You worry about everything concerning Slytherin and Tom Riddle.’

‘Yes, how dare we worry about you,’ said Remus sardonically.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but shot Remus a fond smile. Remus returned it.

After cataloguing and numbering everything from the scriptorium, the Marauders decided to store the bulk of Slytherin’s affects in a trunk that they then transported to Regulus’ house in Hogsmeade. (Regulus brought the notebooks and diaries with him back to the school to study.)

He spent the rest of the week reading through the notebooks between classes with Evan and Leta, searching for anything that might clue him in. James and the Marauders rotated in and out, asking what they’d found in the diaries but far less inclined to study them than Regulus, Evan and Leta.

‘I don’t need extra homework, bro,’ was Sirius’ parting call one evening as he tugged Remus out of the Room of Requirement.

It was on the Sunday after they’d found the scriptorium that Evan stumbled upon the entry about the Chamber of Secrets – and the beast that lurked within and had been tasked by Slytherin to help cleanse the school of Muggle-borns in his absence.

He read the passage aloud to Regulus and Leta. ‘The beast is a snake,’ he concluded, raising his head and locking gazes with Regulus. ‘A basilisk.’

Regulus looked down at Slytherin’s ring on his finger. ‘Oh.’

‘So it was the ring.’ Evan rubbed his face roughly; he had paled with guilt. ‘Fuck, Regulus, I—’

‘It’s fine,’ said Regulus, rotating it thoughtfully around his finger. ‘At least now we know. As long as it’s not in my own head.’

Knowing it was simply a snake trapped in the walls was weirdly a relief and Regulus felt far calmer than he had all term.

Evan, in contrast, still seemed like he wanted to puke.

When James, Sirius, Remus and Peter arrived in the Room of Requirement that evening after dinner, they found Regulus with Evan, buried in a stack of Salazar Slytherin’s notebooks and diaries. James tried to bury the flare of annoyance that heated his blood at the sight of them together and he tried to force it down. He wasn’t very good at handling jealousy and somehow his jealousy was harder to keep a lid on where it concerned Regulus.

‘Oh, hi, Evan.’ James tried not to glower at him. ‘Are you spending the evening with us?’

‘Nah.’ Evan shouldered his book bag and shot Regulus a weighted look. ‘Let me know if you need me, yeah?’

‘Will do.’

Evan departed with a wave.

The moment the door was shut behind him, Sirius rounded on his brother. ‘Why would you need him?’

Regulus exhaled slowly. ‘There’s … something I should tell you all.’

James had a feeling he wasn’t remotely going to like whatever confession was about to come out, but before Regulus could elaborate, he went stiff and whirled around.

Sirius glanced at James in confusion before he said, ‘What?’

‘It’s back,’ Regulus said to Leta.

She made a face.

‘What?’ asked Sirius belatedly.

‘I don’t hear anything,’ added Peter.

‘What is it?’ asked James, taking Regulus’ hand. ‘What do you hear?’

‘It’s moving …’ Regulus was still looking at Leta, who seemed to have context the Marauders didn’t. ‘Evan’s right.’

‘I think so, too.’

When neither elaborated, James and Sirius let out matching sounds of annoyance.

‘Love, what’s going on?’ James searched Regulus’ face, desperately wanting to help and feeling furiously useless not having any idea what was going on. Knowing that Evan was aware didn’t help, either.

Before anyone could get an answer out of him, Regulus darted out of the room at a run. Leta floated after him.

‘Oh, what now,’ groaned Peter as the rest hurried out after him.

They found Regulus further down the hallway.

‘What’s going on?’ asked James when they reached him.

Regulus was staring at the walls. ‘It’s in the walls.’

‘What?’

‘Slytherin’s beast.’

And then Regulus was moving again, following the purported beast down a side corridor.

Filled with disquiet and over a hundred new questions, James ran after him, Sirius, Remus and Peter hot on their heels.

The Marauders followed Regulus and Leta through several corridors before Regulus stilled outside … the girls’ bathroom.

‘I think you’re just hearing Moaning Myrtle,’ said Sirius with a forced smirk. ‘Maybe she’s got a crush and she’s haunting you. I’ve heard ghosts can do that – direct their voices at just one person.’

‘Oh?’ Peter sounded surprised.

‘It’s not Myrtle,’ said Regulus furiously.

‘You sure about that?’ Sirius was still grinning like it was some sort of joke.

‘Myrtle wouldn’t be telling me to free her and kill people.’

‘Oh. No.’ Sirius gaped at his brother. ‘Is that what you’re hearing?’

‘I think we should take him to Madam Pomfrey,’ Peter murmured to Remus.

Regulus raked his hands through his hair, clearly struggling with some secret he’d withheld from them. ‘I’ve been hearing this … voice … for months. That’s why Evan and I went looking for the scriptorium. We thought, well – surely of all people Slytherin would know, right? And he did. Evan found mentions in his journals about how he left a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.’

‘Oh, Christ,’ breathed Remus.

‘Merlin,’ croaked Peter.

Fury darkening his features, Sirius shoved the bathroom door open; everyone slipped in after him. There was no one inside.

‘Are you still hearing it?’ asked James.

Regulus nodded.

‘Look around,’ he told the others. ‘And be careful – basilisks can petrify on sight.’

‘Wonderful,’ said Peter.

Leta floated over to Myrtle. ‘Did anyone or anything come by ahead of us, sweetheart?’

‘No,’ said Myrtle. ‘Nobody ever visits me.’

And then she burst into tears.

As Leta soothed her fellow ghost, Regulus and the others searched the bathroom high and low for any signs of a secret doorway.

‘There was a snake mark in the scriptorium,’ he relayed. ‘Marking the passageway out.’

‘Snakes.’ Peter shuddered. ‘Why is it always snakes?’

‘I do have a lot of questions about that, actually,’ agreed Remus. ‘Why didn’t he go for, say, a dragon? Snakes are just an odd choice. Symbolically speaking.’

‘Maybe he thought nothing was more cunning than a snake.’

‘I’ve a few creatures to introduce him to, then,’ said Sirius dryly.

‘I’ll add that to the list of grievances to provide him with when we resurrect him,’ said Regulus.

‘See, I know you’re joking, but I kind of think I’ve earned the right to give him a piece of my mind.’

‘Sirius?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Shut up and check your toilet.’

Sirius pushed the next toilet stall door open and peered inside. ‘I love checking loos. Favourite pastime this one. It’s downright audacious.’

‘Oi,’ said Remus from over by the sinks. ‘I’ve found it.’

Whatever traces of colour had remained in Regulus’ face vanished. He was as ghostly as Leta and Myrtle. He absently moved Slytherin’s ring around his finger and James’ eyes narrowed as the realisation hit him belatedly.

‘It’s the ring, isn’t it?’ He’d known Evan giving that ring to Regulus was a horrible idea from the start. ‘You can hear Slytherin’s basilisk because of that ring?’

‘Yes.’ Regulus sounded tense and James did not miss the way his fist – which bore Slytherin’s ring – clenched so tightly his bones stuck out.

‘So take it off.’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’ James gestured around. ‘Voldemort’s not here. There’s no reason to have that on. It’s been driving you insane.’

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘If me wearing the ring is the reason we found out there’s a basilisk hiding in Hogwarts, I think me wearing the ring is actually helpful.’

‘He’s got a point,’ said Peter. James shot him a mutinous glare.

Remus pointed again to the tap he was standing beside. ‘The snakes.’

‘That tap doesn’t work,’ said Myrtle, floating around Leta with a dreamy look on her face. She didn’t seem to have been paying much attention to their argument. ‘Never has.’

‘Yeah,’ said Remus. ‘And does anyone remember the story from History class about the Chamber of Secrets? It’s a hidden room, right? No one ever uses this bathroom and this sink is apparently broken. Add to that Regulus getting confirmation that the chamber is real and snakes are Slytherin’s symbol for hidden passageways – I think this is it.’

Heart sinking, James strode over to Remus and bent down to inspect the snakes carved into the sink. Regulus, Peter and Sirius joined him.

‘But only Slytherin’s heir can open it.’ Sirius sounded incongruously hysterical as he straightened up and looked from Remus to Regulus. ‘Regulus isn’t Slytherin’s heir. He’s a Black.’

‘The ring might supersede that,’ said Remus thoughtfully. ‘If Slytherin did make it, I reckon it was a way for Godric Gryffindor to enter into the chamber to meet him. If they parted ways before he told him about it, it makes sense that only the heirs ever did get inside. But that doesn’t mean that there’s not a loophole.’

‘I have so many questions about those two,’ said Peter. ‘It sounds like they were fucking.’

‘They were definitely fucking,’ said Sirius. ‘No one gets that mad at their friend.’

James was inclined to agree with him.

Peter rubbed his jaw anxiously. ‘We need Dumbledore. If this really is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and there really is a basilisk inside that wants to attack students in the school and is stalking Regulus, then Dumbledore needs to know.’

‘Agreed,’ said James.

‘Can you open it?’ Sirius was watching Regulus, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the porcelain snakes.

‘Let’s wait,’ said Remus. ‘I don’t want to roll the dice on the Chamber of Secrets. So many things could go wrong.’

‘What if someone’s down there?’ Regulus looked genuinely worried. ‘Evan and I found bones in the scriptorium. For all we know, the basilisk has a victim already.’

James thrust out a hand. ‘Like who? No one’s missing.’

Remus looked back at Peter. ‘Go get Dumbledore. Now.’

Nodding his head several times, Peter took off at a run.

Ignoring the rest of them, Regulus reached out, tracing the snakes with the finger that bore the ring. He opened his mouth – and a strange hissing sound slipped from his lips.

Parseltongue.

‘Bro,’ grunted Sirius. ‘What the fuck?’

But they didn’t have time to process Regulus’ easy, almost natural use of Parseltongue as the Chamber of Secrets opened before them.

‘Merlin’s beard!’ cried Sirius, leaping back.

‘My God,’ said Leta in shock.

‘Jesus!’ shouted Remus.

‘Fuck!’ yelled James.

And then, before anyone could hold him back or talk him out of it, Regulus ran into the Chamber of Secrets.

Chapter Text

The secret entrance led down a steep slope to a door adorned with two interlocked snakes. The paint had faded long ago and there were scuff marks around the circular door, as if someone had tried to pry it open at one point. But Regulus barely made note of any of this. Well used to speaking Parseltongue after nights hissing at walls trying to find the scriptorium, he didn’t even have to pause in between calling, ‘Open,’ reaching the obediently opening door, and slipping through.

‘Lumos.’

Light flared from the end of Regulus’ wand as he made his way down through the next stone passageway. The cold air sank into his bones a little bit more with every step and the steep downwards slope that was so radical he was almost inclined to run, made him think that, like the scriptorium, he was going to be heading in the direction of the lake.

He hadn’t exactly given much thought to what he was going to do once he was inside the Chamber of Secrets and facing Slytherin’s basilisk, but discovering the source of the voice had been such a relief that he’d run headlong at it. He was not losing his mind or cursed - it was only a snake. A snake that clearly did not belong in Hogwarts. That Slytherin had deliberately locked the creature inside the walls and offered it no escape other than to help the future heir infuriated Regulus. There was such a cruelty to that kind of captivity that he could understand why the snake was begging to be let out to kill. The poor thing had probably lost its mind over the centuries.

Further behind him, the furious voices of James, Sirius and Remus echoed and bounced from the previous passageway as they fought about what he’d just done and whether or not to follow him. It sounded like Remus was trying to hold James back.

Regulus grimaced and glanced at Leta. ‘At least I brought them this time.’

‘You didn’t wait for them.’

‘Technicality.’

‘Yes, I’m sure James will see it that way.’

Regulus tried to ignore the clenching in his chest as they went lower and lower.

‘This is foolish,’ said Leta. ‘Any kind of dark creature or spell could be down here. And we could get locked in. Again.’

‘There’s no such thing as a dark creature. They’re just creatures. Wizards have to make everything dark or light. Merlin. But I’ll give you there might be spells and locks. But if we get stuck, at least Peter’s gone for Dumbledore.’

‘I think Dumbledore’s out of town, actually. And you still can’t defeat a basilisk one on one.’

‘Says who?’ Regulus shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m not going to defeat it. I just want it out of the castle and out of my head.’

It was Leta’s turn to scoff. ‘And you’re going to ask the big murder snake politely, is that it?’

‘Something like that.’

The passage seemed to just keep going, twisting and turning and always, always sloping downwards.

‘I think we’re nearing or under the lake by now,’ he mused aloud.

‘I think you’re right. And if it’s anything like the scriptorium, we ought to have waited for the others.’

‘It’s not like they don’t know where I am.’

‘Yes, that’s a perfect shield against dark curses – telling one’s boyfriend ahead of time.’

Regulus rolled his eyes and pointed ahead with his wand. ‘See anything?’

‘No.’

They came to a large circular door. A secondary entrance opened before them at Regulus’ coaxing in Parseltongue and they entered a great chamber. An enormous stone head was erected on the far side, so similar to the head in the scriptorium that Regulus knew instantly it was another effigy to Slytherin.

Welcome, little heir. I have been waiting.

‘This is definitely it,’ he affirmed. ‘This is the Chamber of Secrets.’

Leta looked around, lip curled in distaste. ‘I want it on record that I detest that name.’

Regulus raised his wand even higher. He couldn’t see the basilisk anywhere. If it was watching him, it was well hidden. ‘Yeah, me too. Rather conspicuous, huh?’

A loud clatter, followed by pounding footfalls and curses, preceded the arrival of James, Remus and Sirius, all breathless, all furious, all sweating. Judging by the stretched out collars and their general state of disarray, it seemed like they’d had a scuffle about whether or not to follow Regulus.

‘You. Utter. Shit,’ wheezed Sirius, clutching his side.

‘What took you so long?’ Regulus asked mildly.

‘Remus didn’t want us all to die, you git.’ Sirius glowered at him. ‘We were waiting for Dumbledore but Peter never came back.’

‘I’m surprised you’d wait for Dumbledore. A werewolf doesn’t scare you but a little snake does?’

‘A werewolf isn’t a dark creature!’

Regulus rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not having this conversation again.’

One hand also pressing against a stitch in his side, James walked over to Regulus and looked him up and down. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine.’

This did not appear to be a response James deemed acceptable, but he didn’t have time to protest when Regulus heard the voice again. It seemed … closer.

You brought gifts?

‘Oh, fuck,’ he breathed, whirling around. Still there was no sign of the basilisk.

‘What?’ demanded Sirius.

‘Well, I don’t think being called a gift by a basilisk is a compliment, Sirius.’

‘Oh, Christ,’ groaned Remus.

Everyone clustered together as Regulus tried to figure out where the voice had come from.

‘Newt told me that if you sing to them, they lower their gaze,’ said Leta quietly. ‘It’ll mesmerise them enough to get out.’

Regulus raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t too different from bowing to a werewolf or when – according to a story Leta told him a while back – Newt Scamander had apparently mimicked a mating dance when faced with an Erumpent – and Regulus made a mental note to see if there was any correlation between the incidents when he had a spare moment to research.

‘Think you have to sing in Parseltongue?’ he whispered.

‘I honestly don’t know.’

You have brought me food. Thank you.

It was then that he realised where the basilisk was. Something inside the great sculpted mouth of Salazar Slytherin was moving.

‘Everyone shut your eyes now.’

James, Sirius and Remus reluctantly closed their eyes.

‘Can it see you if you don’t move?’ asked Sirius. ‘Like a T-Rex?’

‘No idea,’ muttered James.

‘I don’t believe so,’ added Leta.

Ignoring them, Regulus moved cautiously towards the statue of Slytherin. He could see the outline of the basilisk now. It had been resting in the shadows, waiting for him.

‘I’m here,’ he called softly in Parseltongue. ‘I’ve come to set you free.’

‘What’s he saying?’ He heard Sirius whisper behind him.

‘Shut up!’ This, from Remus.

Inching slowly forward, wand raised, heart galloping in his chest, Regulus began singing the only thing that came to mind – the Sorting Hat’s song from his first year. Somehow he’d always remembered the words. He couldn’t remember the words from any other year he’d attended the Sorting Ceremony, but that first song he remembered. In Parseltongue it must have sounded terribly strange – like some demented, haunted kind of Muggle beatboxing – but when he reached the statue, the basilisk was indeed bowing its head, its eyes nearly fully closed, as if it was in a trance.

The change in its demeanour was striking and Regulus almost found the great creature cute. Had it not been capable of petrifying at best, and killing him and the three Marauders at worst, Regulus might have been inclined to pet it.

Not daring to pause his singing, Regulus beckoned to Leta and mimed shouldering his bag. She floated off. He kept singing, but he could hear her whispering behind him. Seconds later, James appeared at his side.

Still singing the same four lines from the Sorting Song over and over, Regulus gestured to his bag and raised both his eyebrows pointedly. Catching on, James spelled the bag the same way Lily had on the first day of class for Regulus, and handed it back to him.

Regulus held the bag open, singing the final stanzas of the song again and again, and slid it over the basilisk’s head. Seconds later, the great snake began slithering slowly inside of its own volition until, at last, the end of his tail vanished into the bag.

He waved with one hand to James, who picked up the singing so that Regulus could stop.

Unsure whether English would change the impact upon the basilisk’s trance, Regulus closed the bag hastily, sealed it with a locking charm, and then a shielding charm, and then another spell to make the material impenetrable, and then a spell to make it soundproof, and then he slumped over, drenched in sweat and mouth completely dry.

‘Fuck me,’ said Sirius from the other side of the room. ‘That was tense.’

‘Well done,’ Remus called hoarsely.

‘Babe.’ James gestured for him to step back from the statue.

Regulus moved carefully, the bag angled away from his body, and made his way towards James, who helped him down. The adrenaline was still coursing through his body and Regulus almost buckled against him.

James cupped his cheek. ‘You all right?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You scared the fuck out of me.’

‘Sorry.’ Regulus summoned a weary smile.

Sirius and Remus were both pale and perspiring when they reached Regulus and James.

‘Keep that bag away from me,’ said Sirius, eyeing it suspiciously.

Remus nodded to Regulus. ‘That was impressive. Well done.’

‘Cheers.’

‘It was stupid,’ said Sirius, his relief fading as anger set in. ‘What were you thinking running into the Chamber of Secrets alone?’

Regulus gestured to the bag full of basilisk. ‘There was a time limit.’

‘Didn’t mean you needed to risk your life.’

‘As if you wouldn’t.’

‘No, I wanted to wait for Dumbledore.’ Sirius didn’t look like he was just being brotherly, either. He looked like he meant it.

Slightly surprised, Regulus glanced at James. He, too, looked angry. Only Remus actually appeared understanding. He frowned. ‘At best, the professors or Ministry officials they’d send would kill it – and maybe die or get petrified in the process. I’m the only one other than the Dark Lord that we know of who can speak Parseltongue and I’ve now got the great big basilisk in my bag. I’m the only one that could do this safely and guess what? I was right. Again.’

James crossed his arms over his chest, unmoved by Regulus’ arguments. ‘You keep doing things without thinking, babe. Playing spy for Voldemort, running after my parents without telling anyone, going into the forest after a werewolf alone, going to a funeral of the man you killed, going into the Lestrange tomb, seeking out Slytherin’s Scriptorium. Merlin, you make Sirius look cautious.’

Regulus recoiled.

‘Oi,’ said Sirius.

‘That’s not fair.’

James shook his head. ‘No, it’s exactly fair. We’re not Order of the Phoenix members yet and you’re seventeen years old. You can’t do this all alone.’

‘I’m not alone. I brought you lot and Leta.’

‘That’s not good enough back up for a basilisk!’

Regulus worked his jaw as he tried to maintain his composure. It took a moment, but his next words came out calm. ‘You want me to apologise for being right and solving the problem?’ He raised his bag. The basilisk moved inside, and seemed to be nudging the material of the bag, but couldn’t get through. ‘I’m literally holding Slytherin’s weapon in my school bag right now. You should be saying, “Good job”.’

‘I’m not going to tell you good job if you dive off a cliff and survive.’

‘I mean, that would be impressive,’ Sirius muttered to Remus.

Regulus didn’t have the energy or the desire to fight with James, but the need to defend himself and justify his actions to James was stronger than he anticipated. Not having James’ approval stung badly and the part of him that wasn’t defensive was more hurt than he could put into words. James’ faith in him meant everything and it felt like it was crumbling away into dust.

‘I was right,’ he said weakly. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘I want you to use your fucking head!’

James’ voice echoed horribly around the Chamber of Secrets and Regulus flinched and stepped back.

‘Hey,’ said Sirius softly. ‘Jamie—’

‘No, I’m tired of acting like this is fine!’ James took off his glasses and rubbed his face roughly. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he ground out, ‘You are going to get yourself killed, Regulus. You are going to get someone else killed. You need to fucking think.’

Carefully shouldering the bag, Regulus fixed his boyfriend with a glare that he doubted masked his hurt. He wanted to fucking cry. ‘I did,’ he ground out, voice clipped. ‘In fact, I used my head enough to speak in a magical fucking language, James.’

‘You didn’t use your head. You never do. You just jump like a loose cannon from danger to danger like a bloody junkie.’ He was seething with an anger Regulus hadn’t ever seen from him.

Behind them, Sirius whispered, ‘Cannons can’t jump,’ and Remus elbowed him.

Regulus willed his eyes not to well with tears even as they burned with emotion. ‘My “loose cannon” shit is what saved your mother. It’s what got me into a position with the Dark Lord no one else can boast. It’s what’s given us more clues in fighting this war than anyone else has recently. It’s what saved Remus and his parents from Azkaban!’ He roared the final words without meaning to and instantly regretted them. He had forgotten, in that moment, that Remus was listening in.

‘Fuck,’ he sibilated, taking a step back.

‘What are you talking about?’ Remus moved towards him, eyes widening. ‘What about my parents?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Tell me.’

‘Remus—’

‘Regulus.’ Gone was the jovial gleam that normally shone in Remus’ pale eyes and he reached out, taking Regulus’ hand and preventing him from walking away. ‘Tell me. Please. What about me and my parents?’

Blowing out a long breath and trying to source some measure of composure, Regulus shrugged helplessly. ‘Come on, Lupin.’ He went for quippy, but his voice cracked and he sounded exactly as shredded as he felt. ‘Wasn’t it obvious?’ He looked from Remus to Sirius to James, shaking his head. ‘Did you all honestly think I changed my mind on being a spy because I wanted to? Because I thought I was somehow better at this than the Order of the Phoenix? Do you honestly not know me after this long? No, I didn’t volunteer myself to be a spy. No, I don’t think it’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea. I joined because Sirius is a fucking blabbermouth and told Snape about Moony, and Snape said that if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted, he was going to tell everyone that the Lupins had been hiding Remus for years. So not only does that implicate and ruin their lives, I’m pretty sure it would mean the end of Dumbledore’s tenure as headmaster. That was why I met with Voldemort. I wouldn’t have if I’d have had any other choice. I would have stayed inside the walls of the castle and let Dumbledore keep me safe. I’m not a fucking moron. But Snape’s ready to tell everyone if he finds out I’m lying and he’s not fucking joking.’ Regulus held James’ gaze, chest heaving and eyes burning. James, too, looked like he was trying not to break down. ‘But fuck me for trying to keep Remus safe, right? Fuck me for saving the man you and Sirius both love.’

With a shake of his head, he walked around the trio and strode off down the chamber tunnel.

‘Kreacher!’ he bellowed.

‘Regulus, come on—’

Kreacher appeared in the chamber in front of him even as he heard Remus racing to catch up with him.

Without pausing, Regulus held out his hand and Kreacher grasped his fingers. In a second, they had left the Chamber of Secrets behind.

They reappeared in the Room of Requirement. Regulus set the bag down carefully before he quickly caught Kreacher up on the basilisk situation. As he was wrapping up, Leta floated through the wall.

‘Your boyfriend is beside himself,’ she informed him.

Regulus kicked off his shoes, which were damp from the chamber and smelled like mildew. ‘Yeah, well, he’s not the only one.’

Leta nodded to the bag. ‘It needs a cave or a jungle,’ she advised. ‘Somewhere dark, dank and deserted.’

Regulus all but collapsed onto the nearby chair. His skin felt sticky and damp and somehow both too hot and too cold. He raked his fingers through his hair, grimacing. He badly needed a shower. ‘How the fuck do I rehome a basilisk?’

Kreacher rocked his head, equally as stumped.

Leta made a thoughtful face and tilted her head to the side. ‘Do the Rosiers not have land in Asia?’

He sat up and pointed at her. ‘That’s helpful.’

She grinned.

‘Kreach.’ Clapping his hands together, a plan forming, Regulus turned to the house elf beseechingly. ‘I know I’m asking a lot, but can you possibly go and get Evan for me?’

‘Kreacher will be right back.’

And then he vanished.

‘You know James was only yelling out of fear, don’t you?’ Leta drifted closer, hovering in mid-air over the bag.

‘I know.’

‘He was even more upset when you left. In case you wanted to know.’

Kreacher’s return with Evan spared Regulus from answering.

‘Does Master Regulus need anything else?’ Kreacher asked, releasing Evan’s robes.

Regulus smiled. ‘No. Thanks for everything, Kreach. You’re a star.’

With a bob of his head, Kreacher Disapparated.

‘What’s going on?’ Evan glanced from Regulus to Leta. ‘He said you needed me to take you to Asia?’

‘Your parents have property there, don’t they?’

‘Is this for the Dark Lord?’

‘Yes.’

Regulus was certain he didn’t miss the displeasure in Evan’s bright eyes, but he didn’t voice whatever was on the tip of his tongue. Instead he said, ‘It’s in the countryside. Western China. Haven’t been there in years, though.’

‘It’s usually empty?’

‘Yep.’

‘Perfect. Address?’

The moment the address left his lips, a door appeared on the other side of the room, willed there by Regulus’ internal monologue, begging the room to listen and help.

‘Blimey,’ said Evan, not quite as used to the room.

Regulus carefully pulled the bag’s strap over his shoulder and angled it slightly away from his body. ‘Stay here. Cover for me. We can’t have everyone losing their minds if I’m gone from Hogwarts twice in one month.’

‘Sure.’ Evan still looked worried. ‘You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?’

‘I’m just dropping off something for safe keeping. I promise.’

Evan nodded. ‘All right. I’ll be here. Good luck.’

Regulus squeezed Evan’s shoulder as he walked by on his way to the door. Drawing out his wand, Regulus turned the knob and stepped through. Leta floated out after him.

He stepped out into a forest he had never seen before. The sudden face full of humidity was a lot to take and he inhaled air that was somehow more damp than the chambers below the castle. Which was saying something.

‘Is this China?’ he asked, glancing back at Evan, who was standing in the doorway.

‘Looks like it. Tuck your jeans into your socks. Trust me.’

‘Let’s just hope there are no giant spiders,’ said Leta.

‘Leta?’ said Regulus.

‘Yes?’

‘That’s not helping.’

She giggled.

Regulus illuminated the tip of his wand and held it aloft before glancing back at Evan. ‘Don’t let the door shut. You’re my way home.’

‘I’ll be here,’ said Evan, keeping a foot in the doorway. ‘Hurry.’

Regulus set off with Leta, moving quickly through the forest. Somehow he was both more and less scared than when he’d been running around the Forbidden Forest at nightfall with Moony hunting him. This forest was thankfully werewolf free, but he was so far from home and magic was unpredictable and something definitely could go wrong.

His self-doubt, which he’d managed to bury after James had saved his life in the Room of Requirement, had returned tenfold. James’ belief in him had been an armour he didn’t know he relied upon and he felt unmoored.

It was all he could do to focus on the task at hand and not think about just how very single he might be once he returned to the castle and James finished breaking up with him.

His hand clenched around the bag’s strap.

By dawn, Regulus and Leta were making their way back through the awakening jungle to the doorway. They had found a lovely, dank cave deep in the jungle and hid behind a cluster of trees while the basilisk slithered out of Regulus’ bag and made its way into the cave.

‘Newt would be so proud,’ Leta assured him as the basilisk disappeared.

Regulus, too, felt proud.

‘Best put a charm on it,’ she advised. ‘We don’t want someone wandering down there on accident.’

‘Good idea.’

It took the very last dregs of his energy to cast a diversion charm, but Regulus somehow managed it and the air around the cave entrance shimmered in affirmation.

On the walk back through the jungle, retracing their route via the hovering arrows Regulus had left in the air, the pair took note of the animals they glimpsed with increasing delight - Regulus even saw a solitary panda, which thoroughly cheered him up.

‘Newt would have loved this,’ she said as they paused to observe a gibbon.

Regulus smiled. ‘I wish I could have met him.’

‘He’d be so happy to know that another wizard cared so much about not killing a creature that he’d be willing to trek through a jungle in the middle of the night just to find it a safe place to live.’ Leta moved in front of him. ‘And I’m very impressed.’

‘If only I inspired such feelings in everyone.’

‘James will understand.’

The mention of James made Regulus’ heart ache and he set off again. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if James broke up with him, he just knew thinking about it made him want to both punch himself in the face and be violently ill.

Evan was waiting for them in the open doorway – which, now that sunlight was glinting through the trees above – looked rather strange: a doorway in the middle of the forest.

‘Finally!’ he called, the relief audible. ‘No damage?’

‘No damage.’ Regulus squeezed his shoulder as he walked through the door, Leta floating in above him.

Evan closed the door and it vanished instantly. He whistled. ‘That’s bloody brilliant.’

‘I think so too.’

‘Any trouble?’

‘Nope.’

‘Good.’ Evan gestured to the bedroom door. ‘Better change – we’re late for class.’

Regulus groaned.

‘I know. But you’ve missed a lot and we’ve got a quiz.’

‘Kill me.’

‘Don’t say that.’ Evan held out a clean shirt. ‘You’re too young and too pretty to die.’

Regulus chuckled. Yanking off his sweat-stained, Chamber-scented shirt, he took the clean one from Evan and shrugged it on.

Evan nodded to his chest. ‘How are the scars?’

‘Better.’

‘Do they still hurt?’

‘Sometimes,’ Regulus admitted. ‘But less so than feeling the lingering effects of the Cruciatus curse.’ He frowned at Evan. ‘And you? Do you feel pain after?’

Evan shook his head. ‘No. I think as long as I don’t get hit with it again, I might escape the aftereffects.’

It was the best thing he could have said and Regulus wrapped his arms around Evan, the relief making his head feel light. ‘I’m so sorry I did that to you.’

‘I told you to.’

‘I don’t care.’ Regulus leaned back and cupped Evan’s cheek briefly. ‘And we’re good. If you had any doubts about that – don’t. I trust you.’

And this, it seemed, was exactly what Evan needed to hear.

Minutes later they were bidding Leta goodbye and darting down the stairs as fast as they could safely go. They all but skidded around three corridors, but managed to make it to class just as their professor opened the door and the students began filing inside.

Barty raised his eyebrows at the sight of them. ‘Did you both run here?’

‘We got sidetracked,’ said Evan, gasping for breath. ‘Fuck, I need to go running more. My lungs are on fire.’

Regulus sank into his seat, utterly drained.

They spent Ancient Runes nodding off, both prodding each other every few minutes as their heads tilted forwards and their eyes closed. Neither absorbed any information, but on the way out of the classroom Barty offered them his notes, so they weren’t entirely behind.

‘Oh, balls,’ said Evan as they wandered downstairs.

‘What?’

‘Our next class is a double.’

Regulus let out a soft moan of despair.

Evan slung an arm around his shoulders. ‘Today is going to be atrocious.’

‘Why can’t one of our classes be naptime?’

‘Hear hear,’ said Milicent, falling in beside them.

After two long hours of Care of Magical Creatures – which felt more than a little on the nose after the night’s events – Regulus headed to lunch with Evan, all the while wondering if he was going to see James. He dreaded it. James had been so furious, Regulus couldn’t imagine him walking it back and forgiving the incident. Or – Regulus winced - incidents.

None of the Marauders were in the Great Hall when they arrived, so Regulus let Evan and Barty steer him over to the Slytherin table. While he was relieved not to have a confrontation, he couldn’t help but be disappointed not to see James.

‘You okay, mate?’ Tadhg had taken the seat across from him. ‘You look like you’re going to vomit.’

Evan cut a look of concern Regulus’ way.

‘I’m exhausted,’ he muttered, rubbing his temples. ‘Spent all night outside and haven’t slept much recently in general.’

At least ten sets of prying eyes darted his way.

‘For …’ Barty trailed off and made a gesture, excitement shining in his eyes.

Regulus inclined his head. It wasn’t even really a lie. The basilisk was directly related to Voldemort, after all – the heir of Slytherin himself.

A ripple of nervous admiration passed through the eavesdroppers. Several students sat forwards and leaned in, eager to hear more. Gone was the disgust that had come so easily from them all, replaced now with awe and respect – and in Barty’s case visible jealousy. It left Regulus sad. None of them knew what it was they were clamouring for. Not really. All they knew were undoubtedly embellished stories; to them, the war was a manifestation of childhood stories of a world where they did not have to hide, fostered by bitter, hateful, fearful parents.

Aurora, who looked so perfectly put together and done up that she could have easily just walked off a Muggle movie set, tossed her long hair over her shoulder and passed him a bowl of chopped fruit. ‘Do you want my notes later? You can skip class and go nap?’

This from the girl who had kicked his chair at the start of the year.

‘Sure, Rory, cheers,’ he said, forcing a smile that felt painted on.

Barty refilled his coffee. When their eyes locked, his old friend smiled broadly.

‘Thank you,’ he said, taking the coffee.

Barty squeezed his arm. ‘If you’ve got a minute before you pass out, I got you something.’

Surprised, Regulus nodded. ‘Sure.’

Evan fell in beside them as they left the Great Hall. Barty led the way down to the Slytherin common room. It felt strange, and Regulus could not suppress the shudder in his chest that flared at the thought that Barty might have something else in mind.

In their dormitory in the Slytherin House dungeons, Barty went to his trunk and took out a package. He held it out with an incongruously shy smile.

‘Happy belated birthday.’

Utterly taken aback, Regulus accepted the gift and sat on his old bed to open it. He couldn’t help his laugh. He looked up at Barty, floored. ‘You adopted a dragon in my name?’

‘No, I saved a dragon in your name.’ Barty looked thoroughly pleased with himself. ‘The sponsorship pays for the wards on his territory – keeps him from being hunted. So you don’t, like, own a dragon. But I figured you’d like this more. I know how obsessed you are with wildlife and preservation and all that.’

Regulus felt genuinely touched.

‘And I’m sorry I was such an arsehole.’ Barty looked hopeful that Regulus could forgive him and it was hard to reconcile the brotherly love in his eyes with all he knew of Barty’s beliefs and all Barty had done to him before. ‘Really, I am. I hope the dragon makes up for it a little.’

Regulus turned the agency’s booklet over in his hands. He and Barty hadn’t really talked much since Barty had apparently decided they were friends again. ‘Do you honestly think I’m a pervert?’

To his surprise, Barty looked … pained. As if he felt genuinely bad. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I thought you were falling for a Mudblood and then I thought you had betrayed us. I was wrong not to give you a chance to explain yourself. I really am sorry. Really. I only said it because I was mad and I shouldn’t have. Next time I’ll listen. I swear.’

Regulus felt like asking him if he understood what cognitive dissonance meant, but held his tongue. If he wanted to sell the story that he was, in fact, on the Dark Lord’s side, he couldn’t start a fight over Barty’s use of ‘Mudblood’, much as it infuriated him.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, wishing it were true. ‘I get it.’

And maybe on some level that much at least was true.

Then, totally surprising him for a second time in less than two minutes, Barty pulled him into a hug. ‘Next time I’m a dick, just punch me, yeah? I love you, Reg. I won’t presume shit again, I swear.’

Regulus embraced him back. Pretending, if only for a moment, that all truly was mended between them. ‘I’ll definitely punch you next time.’

‘Fair’s fair.’

Barty headed off then for class after that, leaving Regulus alone with Evan.

‘I like to hope that one day Barty won’t hate quite so much,’ said Evan softly. ‘And sometimes hoping for that makes me feel like the biggest twat alive.’

‘I hope it, too.’

Regulus dropped down on his old bed and stretched out, too tired to head up to the seventh floor and in no mood to deal with James if he happened to encounter him.

‘Wake me up for dinner,’ he said, pulling the blanket up over his head.

‘Will do.’

Regulus fell asleep seconds later, his thumb absently brushing against Slytherin’s ring on his forefinger.

He dreamed of the Dark Lord using basilisks to kill him.

The Marauders arrived late to lunch. Almost everyone had gone off to class by the time they walked in and most of the food was gone.

Remus made a beeline to the table and quickly scooped up two sandwiches.

‘Oi, share!’ Peter had snatched up several cheese rolls and held out one to Remus, who traded him a sandwich for it.

James, who had yet to make any move towards the food, was standing in the aisle and staring at the Slytherin table. ‘He’s not here.’

Remus’ eyes flicked to the other table. Several Slytherins remained, but there was no sign of Regulus. There was no sign of Evan or Barty either, for that matter.

To Peter’s right, Arthur confirmed as much. ‘He went off with his mates. I think the little git went with them.’

‘Which git?’ asked Sirius.

‘Crouch.’

James stiffened. ‘Alone?’

‘No, Evan Rosier went with them. Odd seeing him forgive them after everything.’ Arthur made a face, munching all the while on toast and sausages. ‘I don’t think I’d be so forgiving.’

‘Nor I,’ said Marlene, appearing at Peter’s side and pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking the space on the bench Arthur made for her. ‘Cheers, Art.’

‘Sure,’ said Arthur. ‘Why are you lot so late anyhow?’

‘We had a long night,’ said James breezily. ‘Slept in.’

The Marauders had stayed up well past dawn talking about the Chamber of Secrets and worrying about Regulus and where he’d gone off to with the basilisk. Remus wouldn’t be surprised if Regulus was avoiding them and decided to seek him out later alone. He had a feeling James’ presence wasn’t going to help matters.

‘Where’s Dumbledore?’ asked Peter, glancing at Marlene, who was holding out a strawberry to him. He ate it with a wink and a grin.

Remus smiled. The pair were truly adorable together.

‘It was in The Daily Prophet,’ said Marlene, nodding towards a discarded copy of the day’s newspaper further up the table. ‘There was another Death Eater attack in Germany. He’s gone to help. I think someone spotted Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange.’ She grimaced in Sirius’ direction.

‘She’s not my friend,’ he said flatly. ‘I hope Dumbledore does catch her red-handed. The problem’s no one can pin anything on her.’

‘Yet,’ said James. ‘Give her time.’

He and Sirius traded dark looks.

‘I’m gonna try and catch up with Regulus,’ said James, already moving away from the table. ‘Catch you all later.’

He left without waiting for a reply.

‘Something tells me those two are headed for a breakup,’ said Marlene, stabbing at a grape in her bowl of fruit.

Sirius shot her a reproachful look. ‘Why would you say that? Neither of them could do better. They’re perfect for each other.’

Remus grinned into his mug of tea.

‘Wasn’t trying to upset you,’ she added apologetically. ‘I just think James wants someone at his side. Not someone he’s constantly running after. I mean, no offence to Regulus, mate, you know I’m fond of him. But James hasn’t look well rested all year since they’ve got involved.’

‘They’ve been dealing with a lot,’ said Sirius defensively.

‘Precisely. James is close to failing three classes.’

This was news to Remus. He frowned at Peter, who shrugged.

‘His mum was almost killed.’ Sirius sounded close to losing his temper. ‘That’s not my brother’s fault. He saved her life.’

‘My point was – James is probably going to want things to calm down for a while. That was my only point. And, honestly, what do I know?’

‘Nothing,’ muttered Sirius.

‘Hey,’ said Peter reproachfully. ‘She’s not trying to start anything.’

‘I’m really not.’ Marlene smiled. ‘Sorry, Black.’

Sirius waved his hand before scowling at his bagel like it had personally offended him.

Remus passed him a coffee and put a hand on his back. ‘They’re going to be fine,’ he said quietly. ‘Let them both cool down.’

Sirius huffed, but he drank his coffee a moment later and seemed inclined to be optimistic.

Remus picked up the discarded copy of The Daily Prophet and began catching up on the chaos being reported on in London and Berlin.

Evan had not been able to relax for the better part of a year. Having Regulus back was like being able to inhale properly once more. But having him around also meant being the sounding board for Regulus and James’ relationship issues, and Evan was starting to wonder if he simply enjoyed torturing himself.

He let Regulus sleep away the afternoon. Tired as he was, he felt too wired from the night and too stressed about what exactly it was Regulus had got himself involved in this time. Instead, he finished his essays and homework – several of which were already late. The sound of Regulus’ breathing calmed him and he felt more at ease that day studying while Regulus slept than he had in a long, long time. Knowing that Regulus was no longer haunted helped, too. (He still could not believe it had been a basilisk of all things.)

A tapping on the window mid-afternoon signalled the arrival of an unfamiliar owl. Tossing his quill down, he walked over and opened the window, and took the owl’s proffered letter.

‘Thank you,’ he said to the owl, who bobbed its head before taking flight.

Sitting back down, Evan opened the envelope with the tip of his finger and tugged it out. To his disappointment, it was from his father.

Evan,

Your mother and I have given it a great deal of thought and we both agree we have judged Regulus too harshly. The time we grew up in was very different and much less accepting. But of course the Dark Lord is right – the Blacks are a good, ancient, powerful family and we should be more accepting of the new age inclinations that you young people embrace. As the Dark Lord says, the youth are our future and though we might not always see eye to eye, I do wish to understand you.

We have spoken to Mr and Mrs Black about the matter and they, too, regret the schisms between parent and child that have occurred in our families. While Regulus is focusing on recruitment for the Dark Lord, things are in stasis, of course, but we all know you are a better match for a Black than James Potter. Once he graduates, it might be prudent to show Regulus how much better of a match you are.

Your father

It was very, very hard for Evan not send his father an immediate Howler in response. He balled the letter in his fist, jaw clenching in fury. He didn’t know why he was surprised – his father had always been an obsequious upstart. But it infuriated him how his father was now telling him not to beat Regulus up but rather court him instead.

‘Fucker,’ he muttered, tossing the balled-up letter into the fire.

A soft cry made him spin around. Regulus was still asleep, but his face was scrunched up and his hands were fisting the dark green blankets.

Going to his side, Evan bent down and put a hand gently on his chest. ‘You’re safe,’ he murmured. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you.’

Another horrible shudder passed through Regulus and Evan kept whispering soothing words. He recalled Regulus’ remark about still feeling the effects of being tortured and his chest clenched with the desire to help and being unable to. It felt like an hour but was likely only seconds before Regulus’ heart began to slow to a less panicked pace.

Evan sank into a crouch beside the bed, his hand moving from Regulus’ chest to his arm. He brushed his thumb back and forth absently.

‘You’re safe,’ he said again. ‘I’ve got you.’

Finally Regulus seemed to relax and the rush of emotion that response prompted made his heart ache.

He didn’t remember falling in love with Regulus, but he remembered the day he learned such a love would ignite his father’s wrath. For more than seven years he had loved Regulus in silence, in secret. He’d daydreamed of telling him; of Regulus telling him he returned the feeling; of a future that always felt so impossible. Now Regulus knew how he felt but everything was wrong. Regulus was in love with James and Evan could not have him.

He sat beside Regulus for so long his legs fell asleep and filled with pins and needles. He didn’t even realise dinner had come and gone until he heard footsteps in the corridor and forced himself to stand and put distance between himself and the bed.

Barty and the other boys wandered in seconds later, chatting to each other about Quidditch.

‘Shh,’ he hissed, motioning to Regulus.

And, as if the last year of bullying Regulus had never happened, the boys all made gestures of understanding and apology, and made sure not to disturb him in his sleep.

Evan watched, marvelling. He was pretty sure the whole year was going to give him whiplash.

The following night, after leaving Sirius and James at the Quidditch pitch, Remus returned to the castle determined to find Regulus. He hadn’t seen him since Regulus all but ran away from him in the Chamber of Secrets and the confessions had been running around his mind ever since. Sirius had been equally as horror struck by the revelations.

It took Remus half an hour, but he eventually tracked Regulus down to the kitchens. He was with several house elves, deep in conversation and at ease in a way Remus wasn’t used to witnessing.

He stilled in the doorway. Regulus was at the kitchen table, the book James had given him for his birthday was in front of him, open to the freedom spell; several house elves sat around them. They all had cups of tea or milk in front of them and seemed to be having a heated debate.

Regulus stopped talking when he caught sight of Remus and suddenly every house elf there was staring at him curiously.

‘Hi.’ Remus waved awkwardly before jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers. ‘Didn’t mean to interrupt.’

‘You didn’t,’ said Regulus, sitting back in his chair and sighing. He still had deep circles under his eyes; it did not appear that getting rid of the basilisk had lessened the mental load on the younger man. ‘We’re just discussing how best to pass the spell around.’

‘Ah.’

Regulus waved him over. ‘You can join us.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Cheers.’

Remus walked over and took a seat perpendicular to Regulus. He smiled at the curious house elves, who were all staring openly at him.

Regulus, thankfully, intervened. He rattled off everyone’s names in quick succession, pointing from one to the next. ‘Remus, this is Leif, Twinkle, Marvel, Torri, Dot, Magenta, Florence, Jodi, Petal, Topper, Tria and Mal.’

‘Hi,’ said Remus. ‘Nice to meet you all.’

‘Any friend of Regulus is a friend of ours,’ said Mal with a smile. ‘Tea?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Here,’ said Regulus, passing him the kettle before one of the elves could levitate it.

Remus smiled and poured himself a cup of tea. The cloud of steam wafted up his nose and he could detect peppermint, chamomile, lavender, ginger, valerian root and a dash of honey.

‘A fan of mixed teas?’ he teased.

‘Leif was trying to help,’ said Regulus fondly. ‘He was covering all his bases.’

Winking at the elf beside him, Regulus then passed the spellbook to Leif, who brought it over to another table with the rest of the house elves. They began to talk in hushed tones, tuning out Remus and Regulus entirely.

‘I didn’t mean to steal you away,’ said Remus softly.

‘It’s fine,’ said Regulus. ‘I’m only the messenger. Really it’s their spell to use or not. And they have to talk about it amongst themselves.’

Remus sipped at his tea – he was pretty sure it cured the next six head colds in advance it was so strong – before sitting back, regarding Regulus keenly. ‘You’re avoiding us. James. Why? It was just one little fight.’

‘If James is going to break up with me, I see no reason to make it easy for him.’ There was an odd vulnerability in Regulus’ eyes that made Remus want to pull the younger man into his arms. It was decidedly too wolfish a feeling and he stamped it down, but the inclination remained.

‘Regulus,’ he said gently, ‘Jamie isn’t going to break up with you.’

‘That’s not why you’re here?’

‘No, I want to talk to you about what you did for me. What you’re still doing.’ Remus reached out and put a hand on his arm. ‘Did you really agree to join the Death Eaters to keep me safe?’

Regulus let out a long, measured breath. He sounded like he was tapering out a sob. ‘Does that surprise you?’

Remus stood and pulled him up and into a hug, taking Regulus completely by surprise. Remus wasn’t sure when it was that Regulus had become one of his dearest friends and someone that he loved and trusted as much as the Marauders and he didn’t know how to return the favour. All of them. From offering him a place to stay to forgiving him for Moony’s attack – and now this.

Remus leaned back only to cradle Regulus’ angular face. ‘Thank you.’

His words prompted instant tears and Regulus pulled back and away from him. ‘You don’t – you shouldn’t thank me.’

‘Why?’

Regulus stared at him, eyes glistening with barely dammed tears. ‘Why what?’

Trying to get a gauge on the other man’s emotions was remarkably difficult – which was saying something, since Remus had been dealing with Sirius’ mood swings since he was eleven, and those were legendary. At length he said, ‘Most people wouldn’t do what you’re doing for me.’

‘Well.’ Regulus shrugged, as if dealing with Lord Voldemort to protect Remus was no big deal. ‘This world’s given me a thousand reasons to believe the worst in everyone. You’re one of the few people who I think is good. Kind. One of the few that I love. And I think it might earn me more points to say that I did it because I love you – and that’s not untrue. But honestly, Remus, I would have done it for any werewolf. I would have done it for anyone who faced Azkaban simply for being something our world is too ignorant to care about. So, it wasn’t personal.’ He offered a shattered smile and the tears trailed down his cheeks.

‘I think that makes me respect you more, Regulus. Not less.’

They sat in their chairs, neither making a move to leave, and drank tea in companionable quiet for a while before Remus had calmed himself down enough to turn the conversation in a new direction.

‘So,’ he said, and coughed to clear his throat. ‘Where did you take it?’

‘The basilisk?’

‘Yeah.’

‘China.’

Remus’ eyebrows shot up. ‘How?’

‘Room of Requirement.’

It seemed so obvious and yet somehow it had never even occurred to Remus that Regulus might use the room. He whistled. ‘Do you think he’ll notice?’

‘Dumbledore or …’ Regulus waved a hand pointedly.

‘Or.’

‘Suppose he’d have to get into the castle to notice, which Dumbledore won’t allow to happen. And it’s not like there’s a line of students speaking Parseltongue and sneaking around in the pits down there. The only ones who know about my ring’s history and purpose are you lot, Evan and Dumbledore. Not even Barty knows what it can do.’ Regulus made a face. ‘Come to think of it, it might not hurt to seal the entrance off properly. Or disable it somehow. I’ll have to look into that.’

‘That’s not a bad idea, actually.’ Remus took a sip of his tea, mulling it over. ‘You should do something like that one day – not, ah, fixing chambers. The other thing. The helping animals thing. Like Newt Scamander. Help creatures the Wizarding World won’t help and that Muggles are ill equipped to. The great magical animal whisperer.’

Regulus chuckled. ‘Leta’s been saying something similar.’

‘Perhaps you should listen to us.’ Remus winked as he picked up a biscuit and nibbled on one corner.

‘Sounds like the perfect job.’ He eyed Remus. ‘What about you?’

‘I’d love to teach. Or perhaps own a bookshop.’

‘Sounds perfectly you.’ Regulus also picked up a biscuit, though he didn’t eat it. He simply picked at the corners and got crumbs all over his fingers, and then said, ‘So are you and Sirius all sorted? He’s not driving you mental yet?’

Remus laughed. ‘He’s been driving me mental since the day we met, but yes. Things are … I’m leery to say good for fear of jinxing myself, but things are good. He’s determined to prove that I have no reason to doubt how committed he is.’

‘Admirably endearing.’

‘I think so.’ Remus sipped at his tea. ‘And you? Do you want to work on things with James or are you just going to avoid him forever?’

Regulus was silent for a long time, black eyebrows drawn together. Then, ‘I love him. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone. He’s always been the most important person in my universe after Sirius, even before I knew what love was. He’s the only one I’ve ever dreamed about.’ Regulus laughed bitterly and sat back, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. ‘But I don’t think his love for me is as unconditional as my love for him. I think …’ He rubbed his cheek roughly, clearly swallowing a sob. ‘I think I will always love him more than he loves me. And he loves you and Sirius far more than he will ever love me.’

‘Regulus—’

‘He would support you and Sirius and Peter no matter what it entailed. It’s only me he doubts. Every time.’

Remus wanted to argue, but he didn’t want to downplay Regulus’ feelings, either. And perhaps he did have a point. On some level, James treated Regulus with a protective concern that did not extend to the others. But Remus was inclined to think James held Regulus’ stupid behaviour to a different standard not because he cared less but because he cared more. Remus was certainly more overprotective of Sirius than anyone else. That was what happened when you fell in love.

‘Well,’ he said softly, putting his hand over Regulus’. ‘I love you. And you not only have my trust and loyalty, you have my profound respect. For all that you’ve endured – to come out the other side and still be as kind as you are, is a remarkable feat, Regulus.’

‘Thank you,’ said Regulus thickly.

It was at breakfast on Saturday morning that Regulus finally saw James. They had not spoken since their fight in the Chamber of Secrets. Days of avoiding each other had passed since then and Regulus had hated every single one. He was truly starting to think he and James were done for good when he walked into the Great Hall a little after nine o’clock and James all but materialised in front of him.

James said nothing as he reached out, hooked a finger in Regulus’ belt loop, and tugged him into a kiss. His hands held Regulus close, pointedly lingering, before at last he leaned back, glasses slightly askew and smudged.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said vehemently, pressing their foreheads together and interlacing their hands. ‘I was out of line. I know you were only trying to help.’

‘I’m sorry also,’ Regulus offered. ‘I’ll try to slow down and think things through. Give you less stress-credits.’

‘I – I thought you’d go in and get stuck. Like with the scriptorium except worse. I thought you’d die.’ James sounded shredded with emotion and Regulus felt a flood of guilt.

‘It’ll take more than Salazar Slytherin’s boobytraps to get me,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m fine. Truly. And I promise to take more care. Really.’

This seemed to pacify James and he tugged Regulus towards the Gryffindor table. He kept him close the whole while and Regulus leaned into him, wanting as little space between them as possible.

‘I have Quidditch,’ said James when they reached the table. He picked up a coffee with one hand, the other still around Regulus. ‘Do you want to walk me to the pitch?’

The magical ceiling above showed pale light and the promise of rain, but Regulus agreed. He felt irrationally worried that if James left now, the whole conversation would become just a figment of his imagination and being able to physically anchor himself to James assured him that it wasn’t. That everything between them was solid and unbroken.

‘You two all good?’ Sirius was watching them shrewdly from behind his own cup of coffee. ‘Or do I need to lock you both in a room to sort it out?’

‘We’re fine, Padfoot.’ James sent him a look Regulus didn’t bother to decipher before they took their leave of the table and headed out into the soft, grey morning.

A flock of brightly coloured birds circled overhead and Regulus felt the sudden urge to take flight and join them. In the chaos recently, he’d barely had a chance to test out his Animagus form properly.

‘No more voice?’ James asked as they wandered away from the castle.

‘No. It was definitely the basilisk.’

James gave an exaggerated shiver. ‘I still can’t believe singing worked. Leta’s dead handy.’

‘She’s brilliant,’ Regulus agreed. ‘I hope she sticks around.’

‘Our gang now has five Animagi, a werewolf, a ghost and a house elf. We sound very formidable, don’t we?’

‘It does sound cool when you put it that way.’

James stopped short. ‘And us? Are we all right?’

Not wanting to give him more reasons to be angry, Regulus hesitated before replying. ‘You know it’s only going to get more dangerous, don’t you? A basilisk trapped in the walls is nothing compared to dozens of Death Eaters. Or Voldemort himself. If we’re going to do the spy thing, you can’t lose it with me every time you’re worried I’ll get hurt. If you can’t handle the fact that I’m already knee deep in the shit storm that is this war – then we’re not going to work.’ The words made his throat squeeze and his chest clenched painfully, but they were true. He had never really known who he was or what he wanted out of life, but he knew now. He wanted to kill Lord Voldemort and return home to James. All else was secondary.

James blew out a long breath, nodding several times. ‘Yeah. I know. And I know you’re not going to stop. But will you at least bring me along? Merlin, Regulus. We’re supposed to be boyfriends but there’s so much shit about you that I’m only learning belatedly. You have to tell me things if you want me to have a calm discussion about them. Of course I’m going to lose my head if I’m worried because I’m in the dark.’

‘That’s fair.’ Regulus gestured for James to walk on.

James finished what remained of his cinnamon bun before moving closer to Regulus once more. ‘I’ve missed you, boyfriend.’

‘I’ve missed you, too.’

They paused only to kiss and then carried on down to the Quidditch pitch where the other players began crowing and making smooching noises at them. But it was goodhearted and Regulus was still laughing as he made his way to the stands to watch them practise.

The next letter from Bellatrix arrived the following Monday at lunch. Regulus was eating in the courtyard with the Marauders and a few of the purported Death Eater hopefuls: Evan, Barty, Geoffrey, Milicent and Aurora.

Regulus took the letter from the large barn owl, who flew off immediately, and unfolded it.

My dearest cousin,

Our mutual friend and I have been having a most productive time on the continent. How fares your assignment? We eagerly await your results! And you must tell me of the more romantic side as well! You know I am a romantic at heart! And while we are on the topic, cousin, I think that my own broken heart is at last mending. I will not speak too soon, but I hope to have better news come summer to share with you.

Give Jamie a kiss from me! I’m dying to meet him.

Bella x

Regulus had a feeling the ‘better news’ was that Bellatrix was in love with Voldemort. He suspected she had grown up in love with the Dark Lord and only married Rodolphus out of obligation to their family lineage. He had trouble imagining Bella in any sort of romantic relationship as she’d never been remotely affectionate with her husband, but the Dark Lord seemed to be the exception to her general disgust with most people. Whether Voldemort would ever return her feelings was another matter entirely. Regulus very much doubted he ever would.

‘Who’s it from?’ asked Sirius.

‘Bellatrix,’ he said, tucking it into his pocket.

Barty immediately perked up. ‘How is she?’

‘She’s good,’ he said mildly, not wanting to break Barty’s heart. ‘She’s looking forward to seeing us all this summer.’

A murmur of excitement rippled through the group.

‘Do you think we’ll work with her?’ Aurora looked a little frightened.

Regulus shook his head. ‘You’ll probably barely see her. She’s the Dark Lord’s right hand and has better things to do than bother with us.’

‘Well, she adores you,’ Milicent pointed out. ‘She wrote to my sister to say how thrilled she was that you’re the Dark Lord’s new favourite. Apparently she’s got big plans for you and Sirius once you’re both Death Eaters.’

‘It’s going to be an eventful summer,’ said Sirius with a smile so wolfish Regulus almost smacked him.

Chapter Text

As the last grip of winter gave way to spring and exam prep took up the bulk of everyone’s attention, Regulus tried not to fret about what the end of the school year would mean. Not only would the Marauders be graduating and moving, but Voldemort wanted to meet with all of them.

The prospect of bringing the ones he loved most directly to the Dark Lord was stressing Regulus out so much he could hardly eat or sleep. And so he proposed to the Marauders weekly Occlumency lessons which they all – even Peter – agreed to. Having something productive to do helped him modulate his fears, too. Nor was he the only one. Remus privately fretted to him about Mr Avery’s idea of recruiting werewolves. He, too, seemed to be planning well ahead for the coming war.

Stresses about the future and the war weren’t the only things taking up his time, of course. James and Remus were both turning eighteen in March, which meant James and Sirius had ideas for an epic birthday bash near the end of the month. (Both Remus and Regulus felt tired just listening to their plans, but neither had the heart to talk them out of the soirée.)

The Quidditch season also ramped up, and to no one’s surprise it looked like Gryffindor and Slytherin were heading towards a face-off for the House Cup. And then, midway through the month, Kreacher returned with alarming news. Though Nori was now free from the Lestranges and was staying in Regulus’ house in Hogsmeade, Kreacher had yet to use the spell himself and seemed determined not to do so until they had defeated the Dark Lord.

‘The Dark Lord returned to the house, sir,’ said Kreacher, appearing in the Room of Requirement just as Regulus was getting ready for bed.

Regulus’ heart sank. ‘For what purpose?’

‘He had Kreacher try and open several boxes that were all cursed in some way.’ Kreacher held out his hands, which were bandaged. ‘And he had Kreacher drink potions that tasted like death.’

‘Motherfucker.’ Regulus went to his trunk and retrieved a bottle of healing potion that he’d taken from the hospital wing the last time Severus beat him up. He handed it to Kreacher, who gratefully drank the entire bottle. It would take a few hours to fully work, but hopefully it would erase the wretched burns on his hands.

‘Thank you, Master Regulus.’

‘Did he say if he was coming back?’

‘It seemed likely, yes.’ Kreacher grimaced. ‘He also wanted to know if house elf magic was as strong below ground as above, and if ownership made any difference to our ability to break a lock.’

‘Does it?’

‘Not that Kreacher has encountered.’

Regulus rubbed his jaw roughly, mulling this over.

That evening, Regulus began writing it all down. There had to be some clue about what the Dark Lord was planning. Yes, he wanted to overthrow the ministry and subjugate Muggles, but how? And what was his plan after that? No one waged a war over decades without an endgame, but as far as Regulus knew, Voldemort didn’t have a foreign or domestic policy. He simply gathered followers by telling them that wizards deserved to be free and live openly and were better than Muggles by the sheer existence of their magic. It wasn’t a solid argument, but it was enough to gather zealots to him. People who felt like they were owed something. But he had to have an endgame beyond that. Was it just to be in power? Forever? It seemed so pedestrian for someone as powerful and as well read as Tom Riddle, once the top student at Hogwarts. He certainly had never been mindless.

‘Kreach,’ Regulus called, an idea forming.

Kreacher, who had been chatting to Leta by the fire, walked over. ‘Yes, Master Regulus?’

Regulus picked up the news article that had caught his eye. It was in black and white and from many decades ago. It hadn’t come from his papers, but from one of the piles of notes that Evan and Leta had compiled together. Recounting an incident in New York City, the front page showed a blinking photograph of Gellert Grindelwald in one of his many disguises. (The article noted that he had at least four known forms on record.)

Regulus held the clipping up between two fingers. ‘Do you think you can get into a prison for me?’

Leta and Kreacher traded sidelong glances.

‘Just to deliver a letter,’ he said hastily.

‘To Nurmengard?’ Leta floated closer. ‘Regulus, he’s the second most powerful Dark Lord in history.’

‘Hardly. He’s just the second most powerful in recent memory. And maybe he’s even more powerful than anyone realised. Maybe he held himself back.’

‘And what makes you think he’d help us?’

‘Perhaps he feels bad.’

From the look on her face, had Leta been corporeal, she would have throttled him.

Ignoring her judgement, Regulus summoned a piece of parchment and a quill and sat down at his desk. Dipping the tip of the quill into the jar of ink, he thought a minute. Whatever he said, he was about to do something that could put both him and Kreacher in prison for life.

He glanced at the elf. ‘You don’t need to do this. I’m an Animagus now. I can go myself.’

Kreacher shook his head. ‘Kreacher won’t set off the prison wards. They do not guard against elves. It’s safer for Kreacher to go.’

‘Are you sure?’

The elf nodded valiantly.

With a deep breath, Regulus began writing.

Dear Mr Grindelwald,

My name is Regulus Black and I write to you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am seventeen years old and nearing the end of my sixth year here. (Just for context.) In three months, I am to join Lord Voldemort and help his quest to rid the world of all he deems unworthy. Muggles, Muggleborns and sympathisers alike. (I know from experience that he has no qualms killing witches and wizards so we are hardly exempt from such a fate.) And just so you know that I am genuine in my appeal to you – this is not a future I want and writing this letter is a death sentence if found by the Death Eaters, and a jail sentence if found by those I’d consider allies. Still, I write to you because I fear few else can or will endeavour to help in such calamitous times. The man I love will die if I fail. My brother. My friends. Even the family who has disowned me yet who I still love for reasons that are beyond my understanding will die if I am found out.

Certainly none of them would condone the writing of this letter, but I think perhaps this is where I diverge in perspective from those I hold dear. I think perhaps you might understand what so few cannot – that we stand on a knife’s edge and the old alliances are dead, broken or fraying. I know now that there are no rules to warfare, despite what others claim. There is only death or life.

My friend Leta Lestrange – a ghost now, but I believe you knew her once, many years ago – tells me that you craved a safe world for witches and wizards. That you do not want us to hide in the shadows. Yet all I do is live in the shadows, lying to so many that I fear one day my lies will mix themselves up and someone I love will pay the price.

If you help me stop Voldemort, Tom Riddle, whatever you wish to call him, I swear that I will honour your legacy in return. I will fight for witches and wizards to live freely. I will not rest until there is a future where we do not have to hide. Where we can steer the course of the world as much as the Muggles. I can think of no better way to honour your legacy than that. And I will ensure that the world remembers you as a man who atoned for his crimes, rather than went to the grave reminiscing them.

So I ask you, Mr Grindelwald, to consider my letter in the spirit in which it is meant – genuine need and admiration for the core foundation of your cause, if not for the methods with which it was undertaken. But we have common ground, you and I. And to my estimation we are more alike than different. Help me. Please. If you have any insight into Voldemort that will help us kill him, I ask now that you give it to me.

I will not forget it.

And I will make certain that you are not forgotten, either.

Kind regards,
Regulus Black

He looked up at Leta, who had been reading over his shoulder as he wrote. ‘Well?’

She shrugged, but her brow remained furrowed. ‘I’d ask what harm could it do, but it could land you directly in Azkaban.’

‘Which is why he may actually believe it.’

Regulus folded the letter, tucked it into an envelope, and sealed it with wax. On a whim, he stamped the wax with Slytherin’s ring. The snake imprint looked more impressive and powerful than he felt. He then held it out to Kreacher.

‘Be careful,’ he implored.

‘Always, Master Regulus.’ Kreacher bowed his head and then vanished with a pop.

For a whole day and night there was no sign of Kreacher, and Regulus began to fret that something had gone terribly wrong. But then, on Thursday evening, Kreacher reappeared just after Regulus returned from the Quidditch pitch and was in the process of changing out of his sweaty robes.

Regulus hurried over, not even bothering to don a shirt. ‘Did he reply?’

Kreacher nodded and held out an envelope. ‘Getting in took time. The prison elves taught me the trick after I gave them the freedom spell.’

Regulus grinned. ‘Brilliant work, Kreach. Thank you.’

Kreacher beamed proudly at him. ‘They have promised not to leave until we are done so as not to raise suspicion.’

‘They won’t tell?’

‘They are not treated well, Master Regulus. They are happy to get their revenge.’

Regulus wondered if it was wrong to feel a tiny bit smug about the whole thing. Pushing that thought aside, he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. Grindelwald had written on the back of the parchment Regulus had used.

Dear Mr Black,

I would be happy to help you in your endeavours in return for one small favour—

Get me out.

Yours,
Gellert Grindelwald

PS – As a token of good faith, might I suggest reading Our Dark Histories? There is a copy of it in the forbidden section of the library in Durmstrang. I think you will find it most illuminating where it concerns the fate of our mutual enemy.

‘Well, fuck,’ he grunted.

‘What?’ Leta floated over and read the letter. A few seconds later she said, ‘No. Absolutely not. A prison break is out of the question. Not even Dumbledore could get you pardoned for that.’

Regulus reread the title of the book, heart slamming in his chest.

‘Do you know this book?’

Leta shook her head.

Regulus’ eyes flicked to Kreacher, who also shook his head.

Biting his lip, Regulus thought hard. Then, nodding to himself, he folded the letter, tucked it into his pocket and finished getting dressed.

‘Regulus—’

‘I’m not going to plan a jail break. I’m only going to see if it’s in the library. We might have it here.’

‘Good thinking.’

Kreacher bowed his head. ‘Kreacher must return home, Master Regulus.’

‘Of course. Thank you again, Kreacher.’

Minutes later Regulus and Leta were making their way down from the seventh floor. Most of the school was in bed, though a few students were trailing in from outdoors, and he ran into James and Sirius on the second floor. The Gryffindors had had practise straight after the Slytherins.

‘Hiya, boyfriend,’ was how James greeted him.

Regulus grabbed his hand and tugged him into a classroom. Sirius and Leta followed.

‘Everything all right?’ asked James once Sirius had shut the door.

‘Well, I did promise to tell you before I did something reckless.’

James and Sirius exchanged looks.

‘I need your cloak,’ he continued.

James raised an eyebrow. ‘What for?’

‘I’m checking the restricted section for something.’

He could actually see James sag in relief. ‘Oh, that kind of reckless.’ A wicked smile curved his lips. ‘We can definitely do that kind of reckless.’

Regulus was glad he hadn’t started with the part about Gellert Grindelwald.

‘What are you looking for?’ asked Sirius.

‘A book,’ Regulus deadpanned.

‘Sure.’ James put an arm around him and kissed him before steering him back towards the door. ‘Come on. It’s upstairs.’

Regulus still didn’t feel entirely comfortable in the Gryffindor common room, but Lily, Marlene, Arthur and Mary were all by the fire and he sat with them until James and Sirius returned from their dorm. They had changed out of their Quidditch gear and the bulge in James’ bag indicated that he had the invisibility cloak.

Bidding the others goodnight, Regulus left with James, Sirius and Leta.

‘So,’ said James as they made their way down the corridor. ‘What kind of book are we looking for?’

‘It’s called Our Dark Histories. Author unknown.’

‘Sounds gothic,’ said Sirius eagerly. ‘I love it already.’

‘Why do we need it?’ asked James.

Regulus shrugged. ‘Not sure yet,’ he said honestly. ‘I think finding it will help clue us into that part.’

‘Spooky,’ said Sirius.

The library was close to closing, so the trio lingered outside under the invisibility cloak, Leta floating high above, until the last students had trailed out and the librarian had locked up. It was terribly hot under the cloak, sharing each other’s air – and smelling his brother’s breath – and Regulus was relieved when the coast was finally clear and they could make their move.

With a murmured spell, Sirius unlocked the library door and they slipped inside. Taking off the cloak, James stowed it in his bag. They made their way to the Restricted Section in silence. Only when Sirius had opened this second door and they’d locked the door behind them did anyone even clear their throat.

James looked at Regulus. ‘No clue at all who the author is?’

‘Nope.’

‘“History” is in the title. So let’s start there.’

‘Wonderful.’ Sirius raised his wand, lighting its tip, and set off into the stacks.

James winked at Regulus before going down a different row. Leta went another way.

For the next two hours, they scoured the shelves. By three o’clock in the morning, Remus and Peter had joined them – having used the map to track them down – but there was still no sign of Our Dark Histories.

‘Why do we need the book?’ asked James when they’d regrouped at the entrance to the Restricted Section. ‘If we know, it might help narrow down the search. There’s thousands of books in here.’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ Regulus admitted.

‘Who told you about it? Evan?’

‘Does Voldemort want it?’ asked Sirius.

Part of Regulus wanted to keep it to himself, but if they were going to fool the Dark Lord in three months, then they were already as ankle deep in shit as Regulus was. He sighed.

‘Come on.’

He didn’t explain further until he, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Leta were safely in the Room of Requirement. Even that felt too exposed, but he reckoned it was the safest place in Hogwarts. It had kept him safe all year, after all. Then, with a deep breath, he held out the letter.

Sirius spoke first. ‘Bro, what the fuck?’

Regulus held his gaze unapologetically. ‘You can’t help if you’re going to whinge.’

His brother scowled. ‘Working with a dark wizard isn’t just a bad idea, Reg! It’s illegal! And suicidal!’

James flinched and Regulus fought down the urge to take his hand. He didn’t want to draw attention to Sirius’ word choice.

‘I knew this was a bad idea,’ he muttered, tucking the letter into his pocket.

James caught his hand. ‘I told you I was going to back your play,’ he said earnestly. ‘I meant it. We’re not going to break him out of prison, but checking out the book can’t hurt. Right? You’re not actually planning on helping him?’

‘No,’ said Regulus belatedly, although part of him truly empathised with Grindelwald and felt oddly bad about it. ‘No, of course not. I was going to go to Durmstrang, though.’

Without missing a beat, James said, ‘Then we’re coming with you.’

Behind him, Remus rubbed the middle of his forehead, eyes wide. He looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow them all whole.

Friday evening after dinner, Evan knocked on the Room of Requirement and Regulus let him in.

‘Here,’ said Evan, holding out a folded sheet of paper. ‘My cousin sent it. A map of the school. He also said the library’s password is just “library” in German.’

Regulus snorted. ‘Are you joking?’

‘Nope.’ Evan rolled his eyes. ‘But the Forbidden Section has a password only the professors know.’

‘That complicates things.’

‘Not entirely.’

Regulus arched an eyebrow.

‘Ava got a job there last year.’

‘How? She’s only nineteen?’

‘Her father.’

‘Ah.’

Evan had dated Ava at his parents’ coaxing but it had been a long distance relationship and didn’t last. At the time, Regulus had wondered if Evan was secretly broken up about it. Knowing now that Evan was in love with him, he doubted it had been that heartbreaking.

‘I can convince her,’ Evan added.

‘You want to come?’

‘Of course.’ Evan grinned cheerfully. ‘I’ve helped you this far, haven’t I?’

Perhaps if he hadn’t needed Evan’s help convincing Ava, Regulus might have turned him down. But that aside, a large, ever-growing part of him wanted to include Evan in his plans. Evan seemed genuinely disdainful of Voldemort and Regulus was tempted to tell him the truth. That he wasn’t working for Voldemort but working to outwit him instead. Evan would undoubtedly be delighted.

‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘But change. You can’t wear Hogwarts robes. The first portrait who sees us will tell.’

‘Can I borrow something?’

Regulus waved to his trunk. He himself was dressed in Sirius’ Muggle hand-me-downs and his favourite leather jacket. It felt more manoeuvrable than the cumbersome robes. More like armour.

Evan changed into a pair of Muggle Chinos and, to Regulus’ great amusement, Sirius’ AC/DC shirt. He looked ready to take the stage at a rock concert.

‘I have to get a photo,’ he said with a laugh, grabbing his camera.

Evan scowled at him as he took the picture, but his expression broke when Regulus’ laugh proved infectious.

‘It suits you,’ teased Regulus.

‘Does it?’

‘Definitely.’

‘I feel very rebellious.’ Evan tousled his blonde hair, sending it every which way. ‘My father would have a cow.’

‘Let him have a herd.’

A knock at the door made them both glance over; James, Sirius, Remus and Peter had arrived. The Marauders all stilled at the sight of Evan.

‘What’s up?’ Sirius sounded friendly, but malice glittered in his dark eyes.

‘Evan has a way in,’ said Regulus, ignoring his brother’s attitude. ‘And a map.’

‘Right.’ James, too, looked unenthusiastic about Evan’s presence, but he was mature enough not to let his scorn creep into his voice.

Regulus walked over and kissed him. James melted against him, the anxiety leaving his body, and when Regulus drew back, James was smiling at him.

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Hi.’ James looked like he wanted to shove Regulus against the wall and have his way with him.

Retrieving his bag, Regulus thought, I need to get to Durmstrang.

A door materialised to his right.

Sirius whooped. ‘I fucking love Hogwarts.’

‘Okay,’ said Remus, looking around. ‘We should all have partners for searching the library, I reckon. We might split up, but no one should go off alone. Sirius, you go with Peter. I’ll go with James. Regulus goes with Evan and Leta.’

James and Sirius looked immediately put out.

‘Why—’

‘It’s about being smart,’ said Remus, cutting Sirius off. ‘Evan has the passwords and speaks German. You and James are the best at hexing, so you shouldn’t be together to spread out your skills more. Peter and I speak passable German, as does Regulus, so there’s no point in any of us teaming up.’

‘I’m also fluent in German,’ said Leta helpfully.

James huffed. ‘That’s actually very well thought out.’ But he sounded loath to admit it.

Sirius grumbled under his breath, but it was inaudible.

The door opened into a draughty, dimly lit corridor that smelled like wood polish. They filed through quietly.

‘Wait!’ Peter caught the door with his foot. ‘Shouldn’t someone hold the door open?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ said Regulus, too focused on the book.

‘I can stay?’ offered Peter.

‘He’d be the most out of sight, too,’ murmured Sirius, giving Regulus a weighted look. Peter wasn’t confident under pressure, nor quick.

‘Fine,’ said Regulus. ‘Peter, stay with the door. Sirius, you go with Remus and James when we get there.’

‘Remus and I can team up,’ said Sirius. ‘He’s got the German, I’ve got his back. Jamie can go with you lot.’

Regulus kissed James’ cheek. ‘Works for me.’

Opening the map, Evan studied it while Regulus held his illuminated wand in the air so he could see.

‘This way,’ said Evan.

No one spoke as they crept through the unfamiliar hallways of the foreign school. The inhabitants of a few paintings and portraits eyed them suspiciously, but Leta called something to them in German and everyone seemed to relax.

Durmstrang was enormous and finding their way in the dark was dizzying and difficult. It took them nearly an hour to find Ava’s quarters. Leta slipped inside and a few minutes later a tired-looking blonde answered the door.

‘Evan? Regulus?’ She stifled a yawn.

‘May we come in?’ Evan asked in German. ‘It’s on behalf of the Dark Lord.’

Lips pursed, Ava let them inside with a half-hearted wave. Regulus and the Marauders mostly stayed quiet as Evan and Leta explained that they needed a book from the Forbidden Section to get information for the Dark Lord. Ava didn’t seem keen, but less than two minutes later, they were back in the corridor with the password.

‘Why did she say she owed you?’ asked Remus as they darted around the corner.

‘She cheated on me,’ said Evan, not looking remotely bothered. ‘She feels bad about it.’

They reached the library after another ten minutes of wandering about. Regulus opened the front door and they all filed in. The smell of books and dust and ink hit them full in the face.

‘Look at the ceiling.’

Regulus followed Sirius’ direction and looked up. The stained glass was ornate and ancient and beautiful.

James whistled.

At the far back of the library, tucked behind a spiral metal staircase, was a glass door beneath an archway with dark red lettering stamped across it.

‘“Forbidden books,”’ Evan translated for the group. He stepped up and spoke the password.

The white door creaked open slowly; a faint scream trailed out.

‘Ominous,’ said Sirius, raising his illuminated wand. ‘I love it when books scream at me like a banshee.’

‘Don’t say “banshee” in front of the books, Sirius,’ Remus scolded.

‘Why?’

‘You might accidentally summon one.’

Sirius grimaced. ‘That wouldn’t be helpful.’

‘No,’ said Regulus. ‘All right – let’s all split up in our groups. We should try to get back before six, so that gives us roughly five hours.’

‘Excellent,’ said Sirius sardonically.

Most of the books were in German, but many were in English; others were in Latin, Old English, Gallic and Hebrew. There were even ones in Arabic and others in Hindi. It was a much, much bigger collection than Hogwarts’ own.

‘This is going to take an age,’ Regulus muttered hours later. He waved Evan and James on to the next row and they disappeared around the corner.

‘We might need another translator,’ agreed Leta. ‘There are too many of us going over the same row. It’s not efficient.’

‘I’m thinking you’re right.’

Regulus was about to move to the next row when the last book on the bottom shelf caught his eye. Its title roughly translated to Abernathy’s Accounts of Atrocious Ailments. The name was one he’d come across when he was searching for potions to tend to the werewolf scratches on his chest. Amos Abernathy had been a werewolf hunter from the Middle Ages.

The book was dense and heavy and he had to balance it on the edge of the shelf to flick through it.

‘What is it?’ Leta floated closer.

Regulus was too busy skimming the pages. His German wasn’t good enough to get every word, but he understood the titles of the chapters. One in particular had his heart racing.

He stopped on page five hundred and thirty six. ‘Leta …’

She peered down. ‘What?’

‘It’s a cure.’ He looked at her in utter amazement.

‘For what?’

‘Lycanthropy.’

They were still staring at each other when hurried footsteps drew their attention to Evan.

He held up an enormous tome triumphantly. ‘I’ve got it.’

Regulus stowed both books in his bag and the group darted out of the Forbidden Section, out of the library, back up the stairs, and all but pelted through the corridors until they found Peter.

No one spoke until the doorway to Durmstrang vanished from the Room of Requirement. Everyone exhaled audibly.

‘Right,’ said Remus, checking his watch. ‘It’s four o’clock in the morning and I know three of us have a test tomorrow. We can talk about the book and what it contains later.’

‘Agreed,’ said Sirius, yawning widely.

Evan bowed his head to Regulus and bade the others goodnight before taking his leave. Sirius and Remus followed him out. James lingered.

‘Tonight was fun,’ he said, wrapping his arms around Regulus and drawing him in close.

‘Yeah, it was.’

‘I’m tempted to stay.’

Regulus smirked. ‘You have a test tomorrow, remember?’

‘Don’t remind me.’

They exchanged sleepy, mischievous grins, kissed, and then James trudged off to the Gryffindor common room.

Alone with Leta, Regulus pulled both books from his bag and set them on his bed. One that might help fight against Voldemort; one that might cure Remus and offer him a future the Wizarding World continued to deny him.

Enchanting the pages to turn on command so that Leta could read without being corporeal, Regulus curled up in a chair and began trying to translate the book Grindelwald had recommended while Leta read Abernathy’s. Abernathy’s was old, but in German, and Leta was able to read it quickly enough. Our Dark Histories turned out to be by a wizard named Theodoric Boethius who lived hundreds of years ago. The book began in Old High German, which was hard enough to translate, but some passages were in Gothic, others in Latin. There was even a chapter that had poems in Vandalic.

‘Oh, fuck me,’ he grunted when he found the first long Gothic passage.

A book suddenly appeared on the table and he picked it up. It was a library book from downstairs; a Gothic to English dictionary. Unlike Muggles, the Wizarding World had a fair number of texts, dictionaries and even recordings – songs trapped in bottles, enchanted puppets, portraits from ancient days whose inhabitants still spoke their native tongues – of languages that Muggles considered ‘dead’.

Regulus grinned. ‘Thank you,’ he said to the room.

‘That’s going to take you a while,’ noted Leta.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘We can trade off?’

‘If we don’t, I might go mental.’

They settled into companionable silence, the only noise the scratching of Regulus’ quill or the turning of pages.

‘Curing a werewolf is going to be a nightmare,’ she announced after Regulus poured his fifth cup of coffee and yawned so widely his eyes watered.

‘How much of a nightmare?’

‘I’m not sure some of these ingredients even exist anymore. But sourcing those isn’t even the worst part. One thing you need is blood taken from a fully transformed werewolf during the full moon. From their left arm vein. And that’s still not the worst one.’

Regulus drained his coffee and set the cup down, wincing as his throat burned. ‘What’s the worst one?’

‘Blood or bone from the werewolf who turned them. It notes that bone is stronger and will make for a more effective potion. There’s another section about dismembering, so I think it’s straight up suggesting murder.’

‘No shit?’

‘Yeah. There’s a few names listed here and I have a feeling if I dig into them further, we might find out why no one knows about the werewolf cure.’

Regulus scratched the back of his head, thinking. ‘I don’t even know who bit Remus. He might not even know.’

‘There’s also another section that I’m too much of a lady to read aloud.’

‘Dare I ask?’

‘Don’t. Just know that dismemberment isn’t the only reason this book was forbidden.’

Curious, Regulus peered over. He got as far as translating ‘mating’ and sat back quickly, blushing when he caught her eye.

‘What about you?’ she asked, trying to smother her giggle. ‘Find what Grindelwald was talking about?’

Covering a yawn with his hand, Regulus shook his head. ‘Not yet. It’s ancient spells, ancient songs, ancient poems, ancient wars, ancient legends, ancient fables, ancient potions …’

‘But nothing ancient that’s helpful in stopping the Dark Lord.’

‘Nope.’

They were quiet for a moment until Leta nodded to the clock over the fireplace. ‘Are you going to make your class or did you want to get some sleep?’

‘Sleep,’ he grunted.

Less than five minutes later, he had passed out, exhausted; Leta remained awake, reading her book studiously.

‘Rosier, you seen Black?’

Evan glanced over at Tadhg. ‘Not since this morning. Think he was up late finishing assignments.’

He had almost skived, too, but his looming quiz in History forced him to drag himself to class.

‘Can you find him and tell him to get his pale arse to the pitch?’

Evan was already standing, shoving his bread roll into his mouth. Promising Tadhg they’d meet him outside, Evan headed for the seventh floor.

The door appeared as he neared it and opened before him, the room confirming Regulus’ words about trusting him once again. Grinning, Evan opened the door and slipped in.

Regulus sat up in bed as he walked over, bleary eyed and hair matted. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ Evan dropped onto the empty sofa and put his arm behind his head. ‘Tadhg says to get your pale arse to the pitch.’

‘Shit.’ Regulus scrubbed his gaunt face with his hands before stumbling out of bed.

‘Find anything in the book?’

‘Not yet. It’s like a thousand pages long, in tiny, tiny font, in Old High German. And some of it is in Gothic.’

‘Gothic? Isn’t that the really, really super long gone one?’

‘Amongst many.’

‘Merlin.’

‘It’s going to be fun.’

‘Yikes.’ Evan eyed him worriedly. ‘Can I …’ He bit his lip and looked away, his blonde hair curtaining his expression.

‘What?’

‘I don’t trust the Dark Lord,’ said Evan bluntly. And if those words sealed his fate, in that moment he didn’t care. ‘Whatever you’re working on for him – I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Whatever you need. But he’s unhinged and cruel, mate. He will never care about us. Just don’t – just don’t risk your life or your freedom for his vendetta. Bella, our parents, the Death Eaters – they can rot in prison for all I care. But I don’t want that for you. Don’t – don’t follow him down a path you can’t walk back from.’

His heart was pounding painfully when he finished, but Regulus did not recoil or tell him off.

‘You really don’t care.’ Regulus sounded strange. ‘About any of it?’

Evan shrugged. ‘I want wizards to be free to live out in the open. I want Muggles to leave us alone to do so. Do I give a shit about Tom Riddle’s petty little crusade to become the greatest dark wizard in history? No. The fuck do I care about his vendetta? He doesn’t care about me. And he doesn’t care about you. But I do. I care.’

Evan waited for the chastisement, for Regulus to tell him to go. Regulus did neither. He finished dressing and then closed the space between them and embraced Evan. His next words came low, ghosting across Evan’s cheek and neck in a way that made Evan shiver.

‘When this war ends, I plan to be on the winning side. I want you to be there with me. I want us to outlive this war. I mean to ensure it. And I will protect you if you let me.’

Evan held him with something akin to desperation, wanting to kiss him. Inhale him. He only stepped back when he knew he was pushing impertinent boundaries. Unaware of Evan’s inner turmoil, Regulus grabbed his broom and headed for the door, calling goodbye to Leta as he went.

Rain began to fall during training, but Tadhg didn’t call an end to the training session until night had set in and the rain was properly pelting down upon them. The team had more or less buried their arguments and everyone was in top form. Tadhg ended the session cheerful of their chances of beating Ravenclaw in the upcoming match.

It was fully dark out when Evan and Regulus parted ways from the other players and began the walk back to the castle. They were halfway up the hill when Regulus stilled. The rain continued lashing down, but he didn’t seem to even register it as he held Evan’s gaze.

‘Did you mean it?’

Evan frowned. ‘What?’

‘That you wanted to help me.’

‘Of course.’

‘Are there limits to that?’

Evan had to fight down the urge to crash his lips against Regulus’. With his black hair wet and curling, his skin glistening from the rain, his eyes dark and meaningful – Evan had never seen anyone look so striking and intoxicating. In that moment, Regulus could have asked him to try breathing underwater and he would have done it without argument.

‘No,’ he somehow managed to reply. ‘There’s no limit.’

‘Would you break the law with me?’

With.

Evan leaned in, clenching his fist tightly to maintain some level of self-control and not fully close the distance between them. ‘I would kill for you,’ he promised in a low, urgent voice. ‘Not for the Dark Lord. Not for Dumbledore. You.’

This declaration made Regulus smile and he turned, slinging an arm around Evan’s shoulders and steering him on towards the castle.

‘Do you think you could talk to Mr Borgin for me?’

The Rosiers had been close to the Borgins for years due to business dealings and Evan vividly recalled one Christmas party three years ago when Mr Borgin had talked for over two hours about a cursed vase.

Surprised, Evan nodded. ‘What do you need?’

Regulus smirked. ‘Something illegal.’

‘I can tell him to contact you directly?’

‘Thank you.’

Dinner was long over by the time they returned to the castle. After drying their clothes with traded spells, Regulus brought Evan down to the kitchens so they could find something to eat.

Nearly a dozen house elves called their greetings to Regulus when they entered.

Evan chuckled. ‘Is there a single non-wizard you aren’t good friends with?’

‘Pretty sure Morgana hates me.’

The memory of Walburga’s bitchy bird sent Evan into a fit of laughter. ‘She hates everyone except your mother,’ he said when he could catch his breath.

‘They’re perfect for each other.’

‘Didn’t she try and peck out your father’s eye once?’

‘Yep. He almost took an axe to her when my mother intervened. Said she’d not hesitate to hex him into a bird to carry her post if he did.’

‘Loving marriage, that one.’

Regulus snorted.

They sat at the table and picked through the food that still remained in the large dishes sent back down from dinner.

‘Do they normally throw all this out?’ Evan wondered, stabbing at a roast potato.

‘There’s a compost pile about five minutes’ walk from Hagrid’s,’ said Regulus. ‘And you’d be surprised how many of the plants in the greenhouse eat leftovers.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yep.’ Regulus grinned. ‘There’s not too much that goes to waste around here thanks to Ingrid.’ He nodded to a very old looking house elf in the far corner. Grey hair curled around her large ears and she seemed to have fallen asleep on her knitting. ‘She’s been making sure there’s no waste for years.’

This compliment woke Ingrid, who sent Regulus a sleepy smile. Not wanting to be left out, the other house elves quickly began chiming in with the various inventions and creations they’d used to keep Hogwarts running smoothly over the years. Things the students never even realised. Evan listened to Regulus banter easily with the house elves and felt utterly at peace.

A peace that was shattered when James Potter walked in.

James would admit he fretted about Regulus too much. But, given the fact that he’d started the year by finding him unconscious and having to revive him – not to mention the number of times Severus Snape had accosted him – James felt like he was a little justified in checking his enchanted map every time Regulus had a late training session. He always put the map away when Regulus reached the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, or if Leta joined him and James could be sure Regulus wasn’t alone. Yet that evening, when James glanced at his map every now and then between finishing essays, he saw Regulus and Evan divert to the kitchens, and something dark and unpleasant gnawed at him. A jealousy he didn’t like at all. He hadn’t even felt so bothered by Severus Snape when he was in love with Lily. It bothered him how much it bothered him.

‘Just go,’ said Remus from the other bed.

James looked over. Remus had his knees drawn into his chest, the tip of his wand illuminated and aimed at the book he was reading. ‘What?’ He kept his voice low, not wanting to rouse the others. On the beds around them, Sirius and Peter were asleep, as were Arthur and Frank.

Remus nodded to the map. ‘It’s going to bother you all night. So go.’

‘I don’t want him to think I’m being possessive.’

Remus smirked. ‘You’re burning a hole in that map with your eyes. Go down, give him a kiss and walk him to bed. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.’

‘See, this is why you’re my favourite,’ James teased, sliding out of bed. Grabbing his invisibility cloak, he bade Remus goodnight and crept out of the dormitory.

He was downstairs in mere minutes and removed the cloak. Stuffing it into his schoolbag, he trotted down the steps that led into the kitchens. He found Regulus and Evan in the second room with almost a dozen house elves.

‘Hi,’ he said, wishing he wasn’t suddenly imagining smashing Evan’s face in. But then Regulus smiled at him, utterly delighted by his unannounced arrival, and James’ jealousy faded.

‘Hi,’ called Regulus. ‘You sending the younglings to detention for staying out late?’

‘Nah.’ James jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and sidled over. Now that he was here, he felt silly for the rush of jealousy. Regulus had never given him a reason to doubt his loyalty and had never shown the slightest interest in Evan. Even before they ever got together. ‘Figured I’d join you since we didn’t see each other at dinner.’

Regulus waved him over.

‘I’ll leave you both to it,’ said Evan, rising to his feet. ‘’Night, Regulus. Goodnight, James.’

‘Goodnight.’ James watched him go, feeling a mixture of distasteful emotions. When he’d disappeared through the door, James joined Regulus at the table and plucked a chip off his plate. ‘How was Quidditch?’

‘Good.’ Regulus yawned widely and rubbed his eyes. ‘But I stayed up late translating with Leta. I’m wrecked.’

‘You’re juggling too much.’

‘Tell me about it. Oh – did you and Sirius get everything sorted for the birthday extravaganza?’

James bobbed his head. ‘Think most of the fifth, sixth and seventh years are coming. Should be a shindig.’

‘You can’t know that many people.’

‘It’s not about knowing, baby. It’s about atmosphere.’

Regulus laughed fondly. ‘You still haven’t told me what you want.’

‘I only want you.’

‘Want to sleep with me tonight?’

James choked on the chip he’d just picked up and slammed his fist several times into his chest, spraying crumbs everywhere.

Regulus smirked. ‘I meant sleeping, gutter-brain.’

‘A man can dream.’

His words made Regulus look downright wolfish and James wanted to unravel him. They had not yet gone all the way and though James thought it about near daily at that point, he didn’t want to rush. Regulus had had too many things rushed or ruined in his life. If James could give him this, he fully intended to. But that didn’t mean they weren’t having fun learning each other’s bodies in the meantime.

Wiping the crumbs from his mouth, James winked at him and rose to his feet. Holding out his hand, he interlaced his fingers with Regulus’ and then tugged him out of the room, calling farewell to the house elves on his way.

James cuddled him close under the invisibility cloak as they made their way up to the seventh floor.

‘You smell good,’ he murmured into Regulus’ hair, deeply inhaling the scent of him, just before they slipped inside.

‘Do I?’

‘Mm hm.’

The second the door clicked shut, James tore off the invisibility cloak and hauled Regulus into a feverish kiss, so desperate to touch him that his hands went everywhere. James threaded his fingers through Regulus’ hair, holding his face close, only to move down, slipping beneath Regulus’ shirt and gripping at his hips. The moment James’ fingers touched his stomach, Regulus moaned raggedly against his mouth.

‘Patrolling, my arse.’

James chuckled. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Uh huh. Sure.’ But Regulus was grinning triumphantly and didn’t seem remotely bothered by James’ poorly disguised stalking. ‘Are you jealous of Evan, boyfriend?’

Mention of Evan made his irritation flare and James pushed Regulus gently back against the wall and began slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Though the scars on Regulus’ chest were always a little hotter than the surrounding flesh, they had healed well and James had grown to love them. Not the hurt they had caused Regulus, of course, but seeing them now, James thought they suited him. A man so fond of animals was going to have scars from them, after all.

‘What do I have to be jealous of?’ he murmured, trailing his fingers down Regulus’ chest, brushing over the scars, and eliciting a moan from the other man that went through his entire being. ‘You’re mine.’

‘I am.’

James opened the buckle on his belt deftly and slid it through the loops, his eyes never straying from Regulus’ gaze. ‘Forever?’

Regulus’ breath hitched and James wondered if he’d gone too far. And then Regulus said, ‘Forever. I’m yours. Only yours.’

The words made James want to devour him.

‘I love you so fucking much,’ he sibilated, and then captured Regulus in a searing kiss. He was once again tempted to propel Regulus back towards the bed and remove the rest of his clothes. Forcing himself to break away after kissing Regulus so thoroughly that his lips were swollen and his eyes had darkened with desire, James tugged him over to the bed. They stretched out side by side, Regulus curling up against him, his head on James’ chest.

‘James?’ he murmured.

James kissed the top of his head. ‘Yeah?’

‘You’re cute when you’re jealous. Might have to make you jealous more often.’

‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ said James wryly.

He actually felt Regulus smile against his chest. ‘Why’s that? I rather like this side of you.’

‘Because,’ said James conspiratorially, leaning in even closer until they were sharing breath, ‘I’d rather not end up in Azkaban.’

This was clearly the funniest thing he could have said to Regulus, but James didn’t laugh. He glared at the wall, absently combing his fingers through Regulus’ hair long after the younger man fell asleep in his arms. His words to Regulus might have been a little hyperbolic, but some part of him wanted to break free and scream that he did mean it. That he would do far worse than break Evan’s nose if he made a move on Regulus.

‘You make me crazy,’ he whispered.

He had nearly lost or thought he’d lost Regulus so many times that year that James was almost starting to think a particularly sadistic bogart was hexing him with his own personal nightmare. Every time he thought Regulus was hurt or in trouble, it felt like someone had at once ripped the ground out from beneath him and simultaneously punched him in the chest. He’d never felt like that when Lily rejected him. Regulus had always prompted strong reactions in him and every day James was certain he couldn’t love Regulus more. But then he did.

Mind spinning with too many thoughts, James closed his eyes and drifted off, his arms in a vice grip around Regulus, unable to let him go even in sleep.

Chapter Text

Dear Mr Black,

I received a letter from Mr Evan Rosier and he mentioned that you had some business you wished to acquire my services for?

Allow me to assure you, Mr Black, that I am the soul of discretion and would be most delighted to help an accomplished young man such as yourself.

Kind regards,
Fitzwilliam Borgin

Dear Mr Borgin,

Thank you for replying so promptly. I am enclosing a list of several rare items. I understand it may take time to acquire them; if you could hold them at your shop for safekeeping, I will collect everything over the summer. As to the price, I will pay whatever. I have enclosed a deposit in the meantime.

All the best,
Regulus Black

It took Regulus days of reading and painstaking translation of Our Dark Histories before he finally came across it – the boon Grindelwald was offering him. The key to winning the war. They’d collected a fair amount of dark curses that would undoubtedly be helpful in a future warzone, but nothing Earth-shattering or truly insightful until now. He had been staring at his translation for almost five minutes before he was certain that he had translated everything correctly. There was no mistaking what he had found.

‘Leta,’ he murmured, a sense of impending doom building inside him.

Leta floated over. ‘What have you found?’

Regulus turned his parchment towards her so that she could read his translations of the passages in the chapter.

One of the greatest and most astounding feats in wizarding history is not simply that immortality can be achieved – but that this truth has been kept from wizards deliberately. This method, once known as Sundering, more commonly came to be known as ‘horcruxiation’.

First discovered in ancient times, the method of creating a sundered soul, or a horcrux, has long been a known guarantee to stave off death. Its price is great, however, for a horcrux costs the wizard who casts it irremediable change. This change is argued by many critics and theologists to be irreparably harmful, both to the mortal life, and to the soul within. Proponents believe the sacrifice a worthy trade for eternal life.

A horcrux is created when a wizard uses the death of another to sever a piece of their soul. A death for a death. The soul fragment must then be placed into an object for safe keeping for it has no corporeal form of its own. It can possess or inhabit nearly any object upon direction.

The wizard and soul fragment will both last indefinitely, but it is important to note that they are not wholly invulnerable. The destruction of the horcrux would greatly weaken the wizard, for his soul would be severed forever and unable to reattach. According to records, the suffering is horrible.

To prevent such an outcome, some wizards – such as the formidable King Miklós, discussed in the next section – placed their soul fragments in trusted safekeepers. In return for protecting themselves – and thus by extension the king’s soul fragment – the safekeepers were able to outwit much of the destruction that befell inanimate horcruxes of past generations.

‘The diary,’ he breathed, looking up at Leta as realisation hit him like a wave. ‘It’s not an item he wanted to safeguard – it’s a piece of his soul.’

Leta’s eyes widened considerably. ‘If it was ancient when this was written, wizards have known about horcruxes for centuries.’

‘And someone - or some ones - erased nearly all knowledge of them.’ Regulus looked across his bed at the piles of notes they had, mind whirling. ‘Kreacher’s being pressed by Voldemort to test locks and curses. We didn’t know why.’

‘You think it was to protect the diary? He hasn’t been by in years.’

‘What if it’s not the only one?’ Regulus pointed to the next paragraph, which detailed a century’s long hunt for King Miklós. Apparently he’d conquered half of the Wizarding World by that time and had had four horcruxes. ‘What if he’s trying to make more and keep them secure? It seems like he knows about the house elf magic loophole, too.’ He looked at her in astonishment. ‘This is what Grindelwald wanted us to find. This is what Voldemort means when he says he’s going to be our one and only leader. If he can’t die …’

She stared back at him in mounting horror. ‘He wants to rule forever. That’s his endgame. Not just wizard supremacy, but his own eternal empire.’

‘Oh, that’s so fucked up.’

Leta peered down at the book. ‘How do you destroy a horcrux specifically? It must require a spell?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Regulus pointed to the next page. ‘Two of the horcrux safekeepers were killed by weapons – beheading and …’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Typical.’

‘What?’

‘Basilisk. Apparently.’

Leta bit her lip and then burst into rueful laughter. ‘Of course. Well it’s good we gave away our horcrux destroyer just in time.’

Regulus rubbed his jaw and laughed helplessly, too.

‘Are you going to tell Dumbledore?’

He nodded. But in truth he was hesitant. Dumbledore would want to know where he got the book and that would lead to difficult conversations. And Regulus felt like he’d been correct in writing to Grindelwald. Here was the proof, right on his bed.

‘Grindelwald might know more,’ he murmured. ‘He knew enough to point us to this book.’

‘Grindelwald also said that he wouldn’t help you unless you helped to free him from Nurmengard Castle. And we are not freeing him from Nurmengard Castle, Regulus.’

‘Perhaps he’d tell me in person?’

Leta rocked her head vehemently. ‘No, Regulus, listen to me. He’s convincing. He’s smart. He’s charming. He will use you and dispose of you.’

‘Because that’s terribly different from both our enemies and many of our allies?’

‘Regulus—’

‘I’m only saying.’ He set the book down and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m not planning on a jailbreak, Leta. James would lose his bloody mind, all right? But perhaps Kreacher can bring me to talk to him. I don’t know. I’m thinking aloud.’

‘Promise me you won’t do anything rash.’

He smiled fondly at her. She was like an overbearing sister and it was nice having someone fret over him even when he disagreed. ‘I promise.’

The afternoon in Hogsmeade with Sirius proved to be a rather lovely diversion from their stresses, despite twice having to hide from professors who might give them detention for being in town on a non-approved day. Remus had suggested getting out of the castle after that morning’s Occlumency lesson with Regulus, James, Peter and Evan. When Sirius had taken Regulus aside and asked him why Evan was being included, Regulus told them that Evan was increasingly outspoken against the Dark Lord in private and Regulus feared what would happen at a Death Eater meeting if Voldemort read Evan’s mind more thoroughly. It wasn’t a bad reasoning, but none of them had been delighted to spend two hours in a stuffy classroom with him, fighting off Regulus’ rather impressive Occlumency skills.

Remus and Sirius had left Hogwarts with splitting headaches and sour moods but by mid-afternoon both were in better spirits. Following a filling lunch at one of the cafés, they took a leisurely stroll through the town park where Remus watched in exasperated amusement as Sirius chased almost every bird they encountered. (It took every ounce of Remus’ inner strength not to make a joke about dogs chasing birds.) They left the park just as a light rain began to fall and wandered down the road towards the Hog’s Head. It was crowded inside, but not packed.

After paying for a pitcher and two glasses, Remus and Sirius tucked themselves into a booth in a dimly lit back corner.

‘I was thinking,’ said Sirius halfway through his pint. ‘I think we should give lessons to some of the others. Lily, maybe. Marlene. Anyone really who knows Regulus and might give the Death Eaters reason to doubt. And it can’t, like, hurt to have everyone trained to withstand Voldemort.’

Remus nodded. ‘That’s a good idea.’

‘Did Avery write back?’

‘He wants to meet after graduation.’ Remus circled his middle finger around the rim of his pint, a dark expression on his face. ‘He said the Death Eaters know of at least sixty werewolves loyal to the cause in Britain alone. They have another seventy odd they want to recruit.’

Sirius was shocked. ‘I had no idea the numbers were that large.’

‘Nor did I.’

It weighed heavy on him how many others were living in hiding.

‘What are we going to do about initiation?’ Sirius had lowered his voice and leaned in. ‘Do we have to …’

Remus inclined his head stiffly. Death Eaters had to kill to qualify – to ‘help cleanse the world of the Mudblood stain’ as Avery had put it in the letter. ‘He said that if I bit someone, it would also count.’

Sirius looked appropriately appalled by this.

‘I’ll see what Regulus suggests. He might know a way around it.’

‘I hate that he’s in as deep as he is.’

‘As do I.’ Remus felt sick every time he thought about it. He refilled his pint glass from the pitcher and gulped down several mouthfuls. If Remus was being honest, he was worried about how deep into the war they were all getting. It wasn’t that he wanted to suggest they stop, but he increasingly feared what would happen when they didn’t have the walls of Hogwarts and Dumbledore’s protection to keep them safe.

He hadn’t told anyone yet that he’d been having nightmares about death and dismemberment for weeks now. He’d always feared biting someone, but these dreams were different. More visceral. More painful. And he was helpless in every scenario.

‘I want to talk to him about it,’ Sirius muttered abruptly.

It took Remus a moment to realise he was no longer talking about the Death Eaters.

‘About last year?’ he asked softly.

Sirius downed the rest of his pint and set it on the table before answering. ‘He tried to kill himself because I abandoned him. I fed him to those snakes. If I had just brought him with me, none of it would ever have happened. And I want to tell him that I’m sorry. That I’m so fucking sorry. But I can’t. Jamie said he’d kill me if I told Regulus I knew.’ Sirius shook his head, disgusted with himself. ‘The Grey Lady should have come to me. I should have saved him.’

Rational or not, Remus knew Sirius’ heartache was real. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up since learning the truth at the Potters’. He knew that Sirius had tried not to worry about Regulus during his disappearances into the scriptorium and in the chamber, but he’d panicked far more than he’d let on.

Sirius dropped his head onto Remus’ shoulder. ‘I keep thinking that I’ve got him back only to lose him again.’

‘You can’t think like that.’

‘I can’t not think like that.’

Remus put his arm around Sirius and kissed the top of his head. He wished he could offer better words of comfort, but he had none to give.

Too distracted by their fears and plans, neither noticed the figure in the shadows listening to every word.

One evening in mid-March, Regulus had just returned from the library - for once that year his homework was completed on time - when Evan and Lily knocked on his door and announced that they were dragging him down to the dungeons for drinks and fun.

The Slug Club meetings had become an odd way to relax, which Regulus would not have imagined remotely possible the year before. But where his mornings were full of class, his evenings full of Quidditch, his nights full of research, his weekends spent training the others in Occlumency, his sleep listless and nightmarish – the parties Slughorn hosted practically every other week as the end of year approached and more and more students sought recommendations and job interviews after graduating, turned out to be a good way to blow off steam.

‘You can’t leave us alone,’ said Lily firmly after he’d reluctantly pulled on his black dress robes. ‘If I’m shmoozing, you’re shmoozing.’

‘I’m too tired to schmooze,’ he moaned, but when they arrived downstairs and Evan pushed a goblet into his hand, the good mood grabbed hold of him regardless.

The room had been enchanted to look like a poet’s idea of a fairyland forest. The room had actual trees growing up from the ground and scraping the low dungeon ceiling; waterfall-type fountains spilled water across rocks without splashing onto the surrounding partygoers; and small candles floated in the air, pink and green smoke curling up from the flames.

‘Any news on your internship, Lily?’ Evan passed her a second goblet.

Lily had applied to the ministry for an internship in the newly formed Department of Inalienable Rights. Its creation had been conceived of under the previous administration, and the current Minister for Magic had been reluctant to provide funding for an outreach department when hatred towards other races in the Wizarding World was on the rise, but Dumbledore had been instrumental in pushing the funding through the year before, and now at last they were taking on new hires.

‘I got in!’ Lily glanced around then squealed very discreetly.

Regulus tapped his goblet against hers. ‘That’s brilliant! You’ll be amazing!’

The music changed suddenly and Lily set her drink down and seized their wrists.

‘Dance!’

‘I don’t dance,’ he protested, but it was half-hearted. Lily was so boisterous that it was infectious.

She pulled them both onto the floor, dancing between them. Regulus and Evan laughed the entire time, taking turns spinning her in circles or attempting to dip her. Several other students, already a few goblets in, joined them.

‘Admit it,’ said Lily, drawing Regulus close with her right hand, Evan close with her left. ‘Parties are so much better when you’re dancing.’

Evan chuckled and kissed her cheek. ‘I think parties are just better with you, Lily darling.’

‘And don’t you forget it!’

She was as good a dancer as she was a student and twirled between them gracefully, creating a perfect dance for the three of them Regulus knew he’d never be able to replicate elsewhere. He could see why James and Severus had loved her. She, like James, was utterly sweet and caring and kind and fun. Lily had an incredible talent for making everyone enjoy themselves.

They only left the dance floor when everyone was thirsty, their feet throbbing in their too-nice-to-be-danced-in shoes.

‘James will never believe you got me to dance,’ said Regulus as they flopped onto an empty sofa.

Lily put her legs on Evan’s knees. ‘Heels are mean.’

‘Do you want me to transfigure your shoes?’ offered Evan.

Regulus choked on the beer he’d just picked up and laughed into his hand.

It was well after midnight when the trio bade Slughorn goodnight, promised him that they would come to the next one, and set off down the dungeon corridor arm-in-arm.

Lily looked at Evan. ‘Did you—’

‘So,’ interrupted a cold voice, drawing them all to a stop. Severus stepped out from behind a pillar, a goblet in one hand, a scowl on his face. Regulus vaguely recalled seeing him at the party – he was, after all, the best Potions student in the entire school – but had ignored his presence. He’d thought the feeling was mutual but apparently not. ‘It’s not all right to make one mistake that I’ve apologised for again and again, but these two are worth your time? The Death Eater hopefuls?’

‘Not tonight, Sev,’ said Lily quietly.

‘Just talk to me!’ he cried, utterly uncaring that Regulus and Evan were there. ‘Five minutes, Lily, please!’

‘She said no,’ said Regulus loudly.

‘Rosier spent months calling Regulus a little fag and I’m the problem?’

Evan moved in front of Regulus and Lily. ‘I apologised for that,’ he said furiously. ‘Something you’ve yet to do.’

‘You aren’t entitled to my apology,’ Severus seethed. ‘I want to talk to Lily.’

Tears filled Lily’s eyes and Regulus felt a surge of protectiveness. He took Lily’s hand. A move Severus did not miss. ‘Go to bed, Severus. You’re drunk and this isn’t the time.’

‘I want to talk,’ Severus insisted.

‘Not now, Sev,’ said Lily.

‘Lil—’

‘You were told to back off, Severus,’ said Regulus. By the Dark Lord, he almost snarled.

Severus had never looked at him with such loathing, not even when it concerned James. ‘Why don’t you go back upstairs and kill yourself properly this time, Black?’

Regulus was still processing what he had said when Evan slammed his fist into Severus’ face so hard that he hit the floor.

In the terrible silence that followed, even Severus had the grace to look ashamed of himself.

Regulus felt someone take his hand, but he didn’t even register the walk to the Slytherin common room until Lily reached out and turned his head towards her. It was then that he realised they’d walked several corridors.

‘Are you all right?’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry he said that. He’s – he’s lashing out because of a fight we had. I’m so sorry, Regulus.’

‘Can you get upstairs all right?’ Evan cut in, not unkindly.

She nodded. ‘Of course, yeah. Goodnight.’

The look she sent Regulus was filled with anguish.

Evan steered him inside, bidding goodnight to Lily. The common room was blessedly empty, the only noise coming from the fire crackling in the hearth. He brought Regulus to a chair and kneeled before him like some kind of knight. ‘Reg?’

Several minutes passed before Regulus could speak.

‘James promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.’ Regulus’ eyes widened as the impending pool of tears flooded his vision. ‘He was the only one who knew.’

Because it could only have been James. Regulus knew in his soul that the Grey Lady would never gossip. Never share any secret. She was made of secrets. It had to have been James.

His certainty made it suddenly very hard to breathe.

Evan opened his mouth, hesitated, closed his mouth, visibly clenching his jaw. ‘It was me, wasn’t it? What I did?’ Tears trailed down his cheeks, too.

‘It was everything.’

Evan looked like he was drowning in self-disgust. ‘What can I do?’ he whispered. ‘Tell me what to do to make it better. I’ll do anything. All you have to do is ask. Please tell me how I can make it better.’

Regulus held his gaze for a long time. The desire to do something stupid, something reckless, something that James wouldn’t approve of, rose inside of him in a way he’d thought would no longer manifest. But there was a brewing, poisonous, toxically immature part of his soul that wanted James to know exactly what it felt like to have a promise broken.

‘Come with me,’ he said, rising to his feet and heading for the door.

Evan did not hesitate.

When James arrived in the Great Hall with the other Marauders the following morning - late for breakfast as usual - the only one at the Gryffindor table was a very green around the gills Lily. Her copper hair was unkempt and tied in a loose, messy knot at the top of her head and she was wearing her Muggle pyjamas, too hungover to care about the dress code.

‘’Morning, Evans,’ said Sirius with an evil grin. He sat down next to her and drummed on the table obnoxiously.

‘Fuck off,’ she groaned loudly.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. Then, taking pity on her, he rummaged in his school bag for a hangover potion. He had two left and passed her one.

‘Thank Merlin,’ she said, and downed the bottle in three gulps.

‘You and Regulus have fun at the Slug Club?’

She wiped her mouth and made a face. ‘It was fun until the end.’

James, who had been buttering his toast, paused. ‘Why? What happened?’

Lily’s sigh sounded pained and the Marauders all traded curious glances. ‘Severus …’ She rubbed the side of her freckled face roughly and grimaced. ‘Look, Severus and I have been fighting all year. I’m not happy about his politics and I think I was getting through to him when we had a fight about James.’

Sirius opened his mouth and she held up a finger.

‘Don’t.’

He closed his mouth and drowned his insults in coffee.

‘We had a fight,’ she continued, ‘and it’s lasted all year. I called him bigoted, he called me disloyal. I called him a loser.’ She winced. ‘And he called me a Mudblood.’

Everyone inhaled sharply.

She held out a hand. ‘I know he regrets it. But I’m mad. I don’t feel like I should have to insist that my oldest friend doesn’t join a group who views my very existence as less than his.’

‘Right you are,’ said Peter, nudging her supportively.

Lily offered him a weak smile before continuing. ‘He apologised immediately but when I told him I wasn’t sure I wanted to be his friend anymore, he got angry. That’s when things got even worse between you lot. He blames you for coming between us.’

‘Well, so what if we did?’ Sirius extended a hand. ‘We don’t call you that, for starters. And I am the first to sing your praises from the rafters because you are by far the most brilliant of us all, dearest Lily dove. So that’s many a plus in our column, I reckon. But what’s this have to do with last night? Did he and Regulus get into another hexing match?’

James stiffened. ‘Did they?’

‘Well, no.’ She sipped at her coffee, clearly disinclined to continue having this conversation.

‘Lily.’ James leaned in. ‘You’re officially beyond worrying me here. Do I need to go find Severus and kill him?’

‘No. But you might want to check on Regulus.’

‘Why?’

‘He …’ Her green eyes flicked to the other boys and she made a face. ‘Severus revealed a secret and it wasn’t one Regulus wanted known. Evan’s looking after him, but it really wasn’t nice.’

‘The fuck …’ James was already on his feet.

But when he reached the Room of Requirement five minutes later, the door never appeared.

After breakfast, and feeling far less ill thanks to Sirius’ hangover potion, Lily tracked Severus down to the Undercroft. It had been their favourite hiding place once upon a time. They’d found it while sneaking around the castle in their first year. Severus had brewed numerous potions in the chamber while Lily practised her spells. Nights in the Undercroft had turned both of them into excellent students. Their own little haven away from everyone but each other.

The familiar smell of bubbling potion, smoke, book dust and Severus’ cologne tickled her nose before she reached the large open room. She stopped several paces away and watched him for a moment.

‘That was really awful what you said,’ she called belatedly in a low, cold voice.

Severus started so badly that he smacked his cauldron and sent its contents everywhere. He leapt back, covered in hot liquid and cursing.

Lily’s wand was in her hand in an instant. She righted the cauldron, sent the liquid back in, and dried Severus’ robes.

‘Are you hurt?’ she asked quietly.

‘I’ve had worse,’ he muttered. ‘I – I didn’t expect to see you down here.’

She put her wand away. ‘You can hate Regulus all you want, that’s your business. But what you said was awful. Especially coming from you.’

Severus flinched. Like her, he was no doubt thinking of his stepsister Grace, who tried to kill herself when they were in their fourth year. She was a few years older, graduated, and had been dating a Muggle boy who, upon finding out she was a witch, proved horrifically unkind and assaulted her. Her time in hospital had coincided with Severus’ growing dislike of the secrecy of the Wizarding World and his view that Muggles were jealous – and lesser. From there, it hadn’t been a far fall to spending time with Death Eater hopefuls. For a time Lily had understood, and hoped that his anger would fade as his stepsister healed. Her sympathy faded when he began to spout off their same horrific rhetoric.

‘You think I don’t feel like a dick?’ To his credit, he did look like he felt bad. It was a start.

‘Then why say it?’

‘I was mad.’ Severus shrugged and jammed his hands into his pockets. ‘I don’t know why I get so mad. I say things knowing they’re cruel and I don’t care until after. I don’t know why.’

‘Because you think that if you bite first, you’ll win and you won’t get hurt.’ Lily shook her head sadly. ‘But you really should work on that, Sev. You hurt my feelings.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

‘And you had no right to be so cruel to Regulus. What did he ever do to you?’

Severus bit his bottom lip.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know,’ he reiterated. ‘I was angry and drunk and it was easy.’

‘That’s awful.’

‘I know.’

Lily shook her head sadly. ‘You’re better than what you’re becoming, Severus. And you’re not so far gone that you can’t come back. But cruel words and school yard fights are things we can apologise for and leave behind. Keep this up, though, and you’ll end up in prison or dead. And I’ll mourn you. I will. But I won’t be by your side.’

‘How do I make myself less angry?’ he called after her.

She stilled and looked back. The sight of him standing there sad and alone made her want to run to him and throw her arms around him. A year ago, that was exactly what she would have done. But a year ago Severus hadn’t been so unfeeling.

A year ago he hadn’t broken her heart.

‘We’re all angry, Sev,’ she answered. ‘All of us. The only difference is that I’m using my anger, not letting it use me. Evan’s my friend now and he certainly couldn’t claim that a year ago. He’s done a lot of work and he’s making amends. Regulus is making me wonder why I wasn’t his best friend years ago. Sven Nott’s not so bad, either. And Tadhg’s quite the gentleman. There are plenty of Slytherins that I like and even respect, and I’m willing to forgive a great deal. I’ve always loved you, Sev. Since we were kids. But if you want us to be in each other’s lives, you can’t be friends with those who think I’m scum. And you can’t repeat their vile words to hurt me when we have a fight.’

‘I know. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘Then prove it. Be better. Please.’ With a shake of her head, she walked out of the Undercroft. She managed to make it through two corridors before her tears began to fall.

She put a hand over her mouth so no one would hear her crying.

A day of frantic searching produced no sign of Regulus – not even the map could locate him – and so, after dinner, James tracked Lily down to the gardens behind the castle. She looked better than she had that morning, but she seemed as preoccupied and morose as he was.

‘Lils,’ he called, jogging over. ‘Have you seen Regulus?’

Lily stilled in front of a rose bush and frowned. ‘You haven’t seen him all day?’

‘No. He’s not anywhere.’ James felt truly close to panic. He and Sirius had checked Hogsmeade, but according to Nori, he’d never been by the house. ‘What did Snape say to him?’

She bit her lip.

‘Lily, please.’ James took her hand. ‘What did he say?’

‘Something that I don’t think Regulus wanted known.’

‘Which is?’ He searched her face, his fear mounting. All he could think about was Regulus doing something stupid, hurting himself, and being unable to find him. ‘Please, Lily. He’s my boyfriend, I deserve to know.’

She let out a slow, stilted breath. ‘Severus found out Regulus did something at the start of the year. I don’t know how.’

James felt very unsteady. He knew from the look on her face that she knew. That somehow, Severus had found out Regulus tried to take his own life.

‘Oh my God,’ he breathed.

‘Evan’s with him,’ she added. ‘He’s not alone. He’ll be okay.’

James stumbled back, leaving her alone in the garden. His mind whirled with dark thoughts as he returned to the castle.

Sirius, Remus, Peter and Marlene were in the common room when he entered.

‘Find him?’ Sirius rose to his feet, expression anxious.

‘No,’ said James. ‘But I think I might go murder Snape if someone doesn’t distract me.’

‘What did he do?’ Sirus too looked ready for violence.

Not wanting to talk about it in front of Peter and Marlene, James shook his head and made a beeline for the staircase. He’d barely closed the door to the dormitory when Sirius and Remus trailed in after him.

‘What?’ prompted Sirius. ‘What did Snape do?’

James glanced around the room to ensure none of the other seventh years were there, and then said, ‘Snape knows. About Regulus trying to kill himself.’

Remus’ hand went to his mouth.

‘H-how?’ Sirius gaped at James.

‘You tell me.’ James put his hands on his hips, fury bubbling up inside of him in a toxic, overwhelming way that made him want to puke. ‘Other than at my house, I’ve never spoken about it. Have you?’

Sirius’ hands went to his head. ‘Fuck.’

James slammed his fist into the bed post so hard he felt his knuckle snap.

Standing beneath the large tree, his hood drawn, a black face mask covering the bottom half of his face, Evan felt dressed for law breaking. Beside him, Regulus wore a similar disguise. The only part of his face that was visible were his eyes, which were red-rimmed and swollen from crying. He’d been quiet most of the weekend and Evan didn’t know what to do other than whatever Regulus wanted. A sick part of him wanted to ask for details, if only to torture himself with later. But he refused to ask Regulus such a thing. He also could not bring himself to mention James after watching Regulus sob silently on and off for several hours.

A crack that was swallowed by the rain announced Kreacher’s return. He hurried over, casting a look over his shoulder at the building behind him as he did so.

‘The elves have given the guards sleeping potion, Master Regulus,’ Kreacher relayed. ‘We have ten minutes before the new guards arrive for their shift.’

Regulus nodded and drew his wand from inside his leather jacket. His eyes cut to Evan. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

‘I’m doing this,’ said Evan firmly, also drawing his wand. ‘I owe you this much.’

‘You owe me life imprisonment?’

Evan reached out and cupped his cheek over the mask Regulus likewise wore. ‘If you told me to kill the Dark Lord tonight to make it up to you, I would.’

‘Don’t you want to know why I’m doing this?’

‘Would you tell me?’ Evan swallowed the lump of fear that rose unbidden in his throat and kept his gaze locked on Regulus. ‘If I ask you to tell me the truth now, would you?’

After a moment, Regulus said, ‘If you asked, I would tell you. But I’m hoping you won’t. Not yet.’

‘Then I don’t need to know,’ said Evan simply. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I want it on record that this is a terrible idea,’ said Leta from above them. ‘And I don’t approve whatsoever.’

‘Noted,’ said Regulus. ‘Are you going to tell on us?’

She glowered down at him. ‘No.’

‘Excellent.’

Regulus set off after Kreacher, a cut of black against the night, straight towards Nurmengard Castle.

With a deep breath, Evan followed.

Chapter Text

Nurmengard Castle was cold and bleak and damp. It was both too much of everything, and yet seemed to have little in the way of anything. As if the guards who patrolled the castle deliberately kept it uncomfortable, even for themselves. The candles had long ago melted into drippy mounds at the base of their holders, and the gas lamps were so dusty the light in the corridor was meagre at best. And even with his mask on, Regulus could smell the reek of mould and droppings from rats and owls.

‘This is not fucking sanitary,’ said Evan in disgust, raising his wand high and further revealing the state of decay of the entrance hall.

‘Honestly,’ agreed Leta, flying out of the way of cobwebs. Which, given that she was incorporeal, was deeply funny to Regulus.

‘This must violate some kind of law.’

Evan’s words struck the long nursed chord of bitterness inside Regulus. ‘You presume that a government which supports the normalisation of the enslavement of other magical creatures cares about its prisoners,’ he said darkly.

‘Christ, that’s depressing.’

‘Consider Azkaban.’

Evan didn’t seem to follow his line of thought. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I can’t think of a single crime that warrants your soul being sucked out.’

‘Not even murderers?’

‘No. Not anyone.’ Regulus turned to Leta. ‘Can you float through the walls and find out where he is?’

Though disapproval still furrowed her brow, Leta nodded and disappeared through the wall beside him.

‘So handy being friends with a ghost,’ said Evan in a low voice.

Regulus didn’t disagree.

‘Time?’

He checked his wristwatch. ‘Eight minutes.’

Leta reappeared further down the hall and beckoned to them. Regulus, Evan and Kreacher hurried to her. The layers of dust muffled their footsteps, which somehow made Regulus’ heart beat even faster.

‘He’s in the topmost tower,’ she relayed. ‘It’s not pleasant up there, either.’

That Kreacher easily got them through every subsequent ward and magical barrier on their journey through the castle and up the tall tower left Regulus absolutely astounded. Even knowing the house elves were helping them and the guards were drugged with sleeping potion didn’t seem explanation enough. There was derelict neglect and then there was this.

‘Here,’ said Leta when they had at last ascended the turret.

‘Time?’ Evan asked again, out of breath.

Regulus glanced once more at his watch. ‘Five minutes.’

‘Best hurry, then.’

Kreacher raised both hands. A flash of gold light burst across the air in front of the door and then vanished with a puff of smoke. He nodded to Regulus.

With a wave of his wand and a whispered spell, Regulus opened the cell door. A soft laugh escaped his lips.

‘Fuck me,’ said Evan, voicing Regulus’ shared astonishment. ‘Wizards are such useless gits.’

‘We can discuss the arrogance and narcissism of the Wizarding World when we have more than four minutes,’ urged Leta. ‘Go!’

Regulus reached out and pushed the door inwards, and stepped inside. The room was small, dank and bare. It stank badly. There was a bed in the far corner that looked uncomfortable at best. Upon it sat a man who did not appear very old at all. He was handsome, and looked about forty, not almost a century. Stranger still, he looked exactly like the newspaper clipping Regulus had from the 1920s.

‘That’s not your face,’ was how he greeted Gellert Grindelwald.

‘No,’ said Grindelwald, getting to his feet. He wore a set of robes so ancient the fabrics were fraying, the colour had gone, and Regulus could see teeth marks from rats. ‘But I like this one. It feels more comfortable. My true face is gaunt from this place. I don’t care for it of late.’ He looked Regulus up and down, a smile curving his lips. ‘You must be Mr Black.’

Regulus held out a gloved hand. ‘I’ve come to make you an offer, Mr Grindelwald.’

Grindelwald looked deeply amused. ‘Oh?’

‘Do you want to get out of here?’

‘More than you could possibly imagine.’ Grindelwald grasped his hand. ‘But then, I did say as much in my letter.’

‘Good,’ said Regulus. ‘We can discuss your letter later, but first I’m going to need you to make a little vow.’

‘Mr Black, you are starting to impress me.’

‘No objections?’

Grindelwald pointed around his tiny, appalling cell. ‘Do you honestly think I have any objections?’

‘Excellent.’

With a nod to Regulus, Evan drew his wand and placed the tip to their still clasped hands.

‘Three minutes,’ said Leta from the doorway. ‘Hurry. They’ll arrive by Floo.’

‘Do you swear to help Regulus achieve the goal you discussed in your letter?’ Evan’s voice had an unusual note of firm authority. It still amazed Regulus that Evan had agreed to being the Bonder of the spell when he didn’t even know why Regulus wanted Grindelwald free or what Regulus’ aims were.

‘I swear,’ said Grindelwald.

A thread of flame came out of the end of Evan’s wand and wrapped around their wrists; it looked red-hot, but Regulus did not feel a burn. Only a strange pulling sensation, as if the red wire was creating a physical connection between them.

‘Do you swear to never betray Regulus or his plans to anyone?’

‘I swear.’

Another rope of fire joined the first, intertwining with it.

‘Do you swear to kill yourself rather than let anything happen to him?’

Regulus glanced sharply at Evan – that hadn’t been part of the conversation – but Evan was glaring at Grindelwald and did not meet his gaze.

In contrast, Grindelwald grinned. ‘I swear.’

The magical rope vanished seconds later after a third tendril of flame joined the first two, sealing Grindelwald’s oaths. Suddenly it was all very real and Regulus felt a bit sick.

‘One minute,’ said Leta anxiously.

‘Let’s go,’ said Regulus.

Leta sped off through the window as Kreacher, Evan, Regulus and Grindelwald took each other’s hands.

‘Don’t let go,’ said Kreacher.

Side-along Apparition was bad enough when there was but one extra. With three, it felt like being dragged through a blender even though Kreacher was only bringing them outside the castle (taking them further risked diabolical Splinching).

The group of fugitives reappeared in the forest around the prison and all but Kreacher stumbled. Kreacher looked exhausted, however. The rain was still hammering down, though the temperature had dropped considerably. They were gathering their wits about them when a roar like a thousand banshees screaming at the night went up from the castle behind them.

‘That would be the alert that I’m gone,’ said Grindelwald mildly. ‘I suggest we run.’

‘We don’t need to,’ said Regulus.

Evan swung his bag off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out three miniature broomsticks. With a murmured spell and a wave of his wand, he returned them to their original size.

‘Not bad,’ said Grindelwald approvingly.

Black shadows suddenly spilled out onto the grounds, no doubt having come into the castle by Floo, direct from the German Ministry. Whoever was supposedly in charge of minding Grindelwald. Given the state of the castle, Regulus was somewhat surprised they even cared that he’d escaped.

‘Aurors,’ said Evan.

Regulus mounted his broom, Kreacher jumped onto his back, and he flew off. Evan and Grindelwald followed close behind.

They did not look back.

‘Oh, no.’

James looked at Remus, who had just unrolled that morning’s copy of The Daily Prophet. He had been fretting about Regulus all morning and hadn’t been paying attention to the others’ conversation or bothered to pick up his own copy of the Prophet.

‘What?’ he prompted when Remus didn’t elaborate.

Remus, who had gone paler than the milk in his cereal bowl, turned the newspaper around so that they could read the frontpage headline: DARK WIZARD GELLERT GRINDELWALD ESCAPES FROM PRISON.

Sirius snatched it out of his hands; James read the article over his shoulder.

‘Fuck,’ he whispered when he finished.

‘Fuck,’ echoed Sirius.

‘He wouldn’t,’ said Peter softly, leaning in. ‘It’s a coincidence, that’s all. Regulus isn’t that stupid.’

But none of them had seen Regulus in over a day and he was – they all knew – exactly that kind of stupid if he thought it could help.

‘Should we tell someone?’ asked Remus.

James shook his head. ‘He hasn’t kept anything from Dumbledore thus far. He’ll tell us when we see him.’

‘Then where is he?’

No one could answer Sirius’ question.

‘I have never needed a smoke so badly in my life,’ he announced, standing and pulling his smoking pouch out. He left the Great Hall without another word.

James looked back down at the blinking photograph of Gellert Grindelwald. He wanted to believe that it was the most insane coincidence in the world, but somehow he very much doubted it.

Evan bought Grindelwald new clothes in a Muggle hamlet they passed through in the early hours of the morning from a rather surprised shopkeeper who asked them if they’d gone camping – a lie all latched on to. They reached Düsseldorf by the time the crowds were starting to fill the streets.

Transfiguring their broomsticks into miniatures, Regulus shoved them into his backpack and removed his face mask at last. Evan followed suit. They hadn’t needed to wear the masks on the final flight, but the sky was cold and Regulus saw no reason to let his face freeze unnecessarily. And if anyone had seen them with Grindelwald, all they would be able to remember seeing was two figures, dressed all in black.

They had left a portkey to Hogwarts in a small alleyway in the city the day before and though Regulus didn’t know Düsseldorf well, he remembered how to get back there easily enough.

Gesturing to the others, Regulus led the way down the road.

Kreacher was able to keep the Muggles from noticing him with a diversion charm and no one bothered them. The walk was peaceful despite the stresses everyone harboured. It felt, oddly, like they had a shared goal. Which, given the state of things, was rather bemusing to Regulus.

‘So much has changed,’ Grindelwald observed, craning his neck in every direction and turning in circles to take it all in.

‘How long’s it been since you were outside?’ asked Evan.

Grindelwald drew in a deep, weighted breath. ‘1945.’

The words made empathy boil inside Regulus’ blood. He thought of the derelict state of the castle and his outrage only grew. ‘Killing you would have been kinder,’ he said angrily.

‘Yes. But I think that was the point.’

‘That’s barbaric.’

‘He has a thing about captivity,’ Evan cut in, nudging Regulus with his elbow and winking. ‘Doesn’t like it.’

Grindelwald regarded Regulus thoughtfully. ‘So you don’t intend to keep me locked in a safe place until you’re done with me?’

The implication horrified Regulus so much that he stopped on the foot path. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘Did you think we would?’

‘It crossed my mind.’

‘We made a deal,’ said Regulus. ‘If you kill someone randomly, I’ll kill you. I’ve done it before.’

Evan’s eyes snapped to his in horror, but he passed no remark.

‘That aside,’ said Regulus, forcing down the guilt he still felt about killing Rodolphus, ‘we have no quarrel. And I’ll never put anyone in a cage.’

Grindelwald inclined his head. ‘I have no intention of killing anyone randomly, Mr Black. I will honour our agreement.’

‘Good.’

They carried on down another four streets before finding the portkey – a child’s doll – that they had left the day before. Kreacher had hidden it behind a rubbish bin.

‘There’s a café.’ Evan nodded to a brightly coloured building with a sign in chalk advertising coffee and breakfast. ‘If I don’t get a coffee, I won’t make it back to Britain. Anyone else?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Regulus. Grindelwald and Kreacher both nodded.

They sat down on the front step of a building and waited for Evan to return. Grindelwald mostly seemed content to just sit outside. He was leaning back, eyes closed, basking in the sunshine. Regulus found it hard not to imagine what his true face looked like. He wasn’t sure why, but Grindelwald not feeling comfortable in his own face saddened him.

‘You know,’ said Grindelwald, opening his eyes and tilting his head. ‘Tom Riddle isn’t the only one who can crawl inside one’s mind.’ This did not seem particularly worrisome to Grindelwald. If anything, he seemed almost cheerful.

‘I know how to keep nosy wizards out of my thoughts.’

‘And you don’t fear Albus Dumbledore’s reaction?’

‘You’d imagine I would, given that he’s technically my guardian.’

Grindelwald clearly had not expected that. ‘He is?’

Regulus gave a brief summary of the events at the start of the year. ‘I trust him,’ he finished. ‘Dumbledore. I do. But I also think he wouldn’t listen to reason where it concerns your help. He’ll need proof that you’ve changed first. So if we tell him after the fact, he’ll have more reasons to believe us than less.’

Grindelwald smiled crookedly. ‘Never in my wildest dreams did I think help would come for me in that tower in the form of a house elf, a ghost, and two Death Eaters who do not want to be Death Eaters at all.’

Regulus chuckled. ‘Evan doesn’t know the truth of my allegiance.’

‘I think he suspects more than you think. Or hopes.’

‘You do?’

‘That boy is no Death Eater,’ said Grindelwald flatly. ‘But he watches you like you’re the only star in his universe.’

Regulus sighed. ‘He’s my best friend. No one else would have come with me and had my back like he did.’

‘That sort of trust is rare.’

‘It was hard-won.’

‘Well … whatever the outcome of this war, I thank you, Regulus Black,’ Grindelwald continued softly, looking back up at the sky. ‘If only for letting me see the sunrise once more.’

No matter his crimes, those words broke Regulus’ heart. ‘Are you sorry?’ he asked quietly. ‘About all the people you hurt?’

‘Yes,’ said Grindelwald. ‘More, I think, than anyone would ever believe.’

‘I believe you.’

‘Why?’

Regulus rotated Slytherin’s ring absently around his forefinger. ‘Because,’ he whispered at length, ‘I know what it feels like to scream and scream and scream – and have no one listen until the screams die down and become a rage that’s too strong to stop. A rage that you’re judged for despite no one caring enough to intervene until it’s much too late.’

They were still regarding each other when Evan returned with a tray of four coffees and a paper bag of pastries. For the first time since the encounter in the dungeon with Severus, Regulus felt hungry, and he took the flaky pastry and cup of coffee from Evan gratefully.

‘Thank you.’

Evan smiled.

‘I miss coffee,’ Leta lamented from Regulus’ other side. She was watching him eat mournfully.

‘We can add that to Reg’s list,’ said Evan, swallowing a mouthful of pastry and drowning it in coffee.

‘List?’ asked Grindelwald.

‘He’s freeing the house elves and growing forests with bottles – why not help a ghost have coffee?’

Regulus and Leta laughed.

Grindelwald shot Kreacher a curious look. ‘You’re free?’

‘Kreacher is helping Master Regulus. Kreacher does not wish to leave the Black home until Master Regulus no longer needs him to be there. When Master Regulus is safe, Kreacher will be free of his mistress.’

Regulus squeezed his shoulder gently. ‘Love you, too, Kreach.’

Kreacher beamed at him before sipping at his coffee.

‘Oh, that reminds me,’ said Evan. ‘Can I have that spell? I want to send it to Alba.’

Alba was his family’s house elf.

‘Of course,’ said Regulus, and he felt a rush of pride towards Evan.

They finished their coffees with two minutes to spare before the portkey and were back in Scotland by ten o’clock. The weather was mild and a light breeze gently tossed the leaves of the nearby trees, the rustling sound immensely soothing after the night and morning they’d had.

‘You go back first,’ Regulus said to Evan. ‘Say nothing.’

‘Not to anyone?’

‘No one. Not Slytherins, not Gryffindors. This is our secret.’

‘Our secret.’

With a wave and a nod, Evan darted off to take one of the secret passageways back to Hogwarts. Regulus, Kreacher, Grindelwald and Leta then set off towards the house down the lane. It was a nice, sunny morning with only a few clouds in the brilliant, azure sky. A few people were out on the roads, but no one spared them more than a second glance.

‘We need a name for you,’ said Regulus. ‘I don’t think anyone’s going to recognise your face unless they’ve done research recently – or, wait, do the guards know it?’

‘Historically, I’m sure someone must recall this face,’ he allowed. ‘But it’s not one I wore around the guards. I heard Kreacher break the ward and knew you had come. I wanted you to see me as I feel, not what imprisonment has reduced me to.’

Regulus nodded. ‘What about Gerry?’

Grindelwald looked downright affronted. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘Gary?’

‘No.’

Leta smirked.

‘Troy?’ Regulus grinned at his own joke.

‘Agamemnon was no one to be inspired by. And I don’t care for Paris or Achilles, either.’

‘I was thinking more like, a war with secret weapons and gifts.’

Grindelwald pressed his lips together. ‘Fine. I’ll be Troy around others.’ He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. ‘Now, did you find the book?’

‘I did,’ said Regulus, and Leta moved closer. ‘And I found the passage on horcruxes.’

‘Ah,’ said Grindelwald. ‘So you had the same thought as I. You’re smart, Mr Black. I like smart.’

‘Do you think Voldemort has more than one?’

‘That would be my guess.’

‘I think I’ve found one.’

As they reached the end of the road and Regulus led the way up the stone path to his front door, he told Grindelwald about the diary in the Lestrange tomb.

The house smelled like coffee and breakfast, much to Regulus’ bafflement, until they walked into the kitchen and saw Nori cooking.

‘You’re back!’ she cried, and then threw her arms around Kreacher.

Regulus left them to their reunion and dropped down into his usual chair at the table.

‘I think you’re correct,’ said Grindelwald, taking a seat across from him. ‘Albus has it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then we must locate the others, however many there are.’ Grindelwald leaned in. ‘That ring is intriguing. You say Slytherin made it?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m curious how Salazar made such an item.’

Regulus turned it around his finger. ‘Given how much I’ve found in restricted, forbidden and banned books, I wouldn’t be surprised if Parseltongue was once much more widespread. You never really know the truth when it comes to the ancient past.’

‘One does not always know the truth today.’

‘That’s very true.’

‘Do you have parchment and quill?’

Upon fetching these for him, Regulus made them coffee and tried not to think about how it was Monday and he would see James as soon as he returned to the castle. He had made it through the weekend by not allowing himself to even think about James and Sirius. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to face his brother again. But his feelings about Sirius knowing were not as strong and overwhelming as his sense of loss. Could he ever trust James again? Would Sirius always come first to him?

Regulus shoved these thoughts down and turned back around to see Grindelwald making a bullet point list on the parchment. Sitting across from him, Regulus sipped at his coffee and finally let it sink in.

He had broken Gellert Grindelwald out of prison.

Remus had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. In fact, it felt like said pit was in fact a canyon. It had taken both him and Sirius to calm James down enough to maintain a level head when they arrived at the Room of Requirement Monday afternoon. Regulus had reappeared on the map that morning, much to everyone’s relief, but none of them had seen him in the Great Hall or between classes.

‘It could be a coincidence,’ said Peter when they stopped outside the door. ‘Don’t yell at him straight away.’

James was clenching his jaw so tightly he looked close to shattering his teeth. Nodding to Peter, he rapped on the door, his whole body tense.

A few moments passed before the door opened.

Regulus did not look happy to see them.

‘Tell me you didn’t,’ seethed James, striding past him into the room.

‘Didn’t what?’ Regulus pushed the door shut behind them and crossed his arms. He wore only trousers, slung low on his hips, and Remus could see the scars he’d given Regulus. Pain gripped his heart.

‘Don’t play stupid,’ snapped Sirius.

Regulus remained the picture of baffled innocence. ‘I don’t know what either of you are on about but I have class in twenty minutes.’

‘Regulus!’ James was almost vibrating with fury. ‘Did you know—’

‘I know you can’t be trusted.’

James recoiled like he’d been hit. ‘Babe—’

‘No.’ The look Regulus then fixed on him would have floored Remus to be on the receiving end of. For his part, James looked like his world was crumbling out from underneath him. ‘I told you there was one thing I wouldn’t forgive you for. One bloody thing. Did you think I was joking?’

‘I didn’t—’

‘I don’t know what you’re mad at me for and I don’t care. Please go.’ He gestured to the door. ‘Now.’

James reached out towards him and Regulus stepped back. Remus’ heart broke for them, but he could think of nothing that would help.

Regulus nodded furiously at James. ‘You all want to know where I was? I spent the weekend at Evan’s after learning how porous your promises are, Potter. Now get out.’

‘I only—’

‘I don’t care.’

‘You’re right,’ said Sirius, moving between them. ‘Prongs shouldn’t have been the one to tell me. You should have.’

The look on Regulus’ face was one of utter disbelieving disdain. ‘Advice from the man who abandoned me to Hell and the man who can’t keep his mouth shut?’ Regulus snorted. ‘Get out, all of you.’

‘Reg—’

‘Get out!’ He almost roared it and Leta appeared in the air behind him.

Tears pooled in James’ eyes and he nodded, unsettling them and sending rivers down his face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he offered.

And then he left. Peter raced after him.

Sirius lingered. ‘Reg—’

‘Please just go.’

Nodding brokenly, Sirius turned and walked out, his fist going to his mouth.

But Remus couldn’t move. His feet wouldn’t budge. All questions regarding Grindelwald had fled from his mind at the sight of his friends - his family - in so much pain. ‘James didn’t mean to tell us,’ he whispered. ‘It came out in a fight at Christmas. He was defending you.’

Regulus scoffed wretchedly. ‘Then he’d be less than useless as a spy, so good riddance.’ He jerked his head at the door. ‘You should join your friends, Remus.’

‘You’re my friend.’

‘Am I?’

Remus had to work very hard to keep from reaching out to him for fear of overwhelming him. ‘I’m not here because of Sirius. You’re my friend.’

‘I’m just the spare, lesser Black.’

‘Stop it.’ Remus almost growled at him. ‘Don’t insult me by suggesting my love for you is pity. You’re my family, too. One of my favourite people. I’m not here for Sirius. I’m here because you’re in pain and you’re scaring the fuck out of me and I want to help.’

This, it seemed, broke Regulus at last. He choked on a sob and covered his mouth with his hand, turning away as his body shook.

In two strides Remus had Regulus in his arms as the younger man broke down in a vicious, almost violent unravelling.

‘I’ve got you,’ said Remus. ‘I’m here.’

The words did little to help.

Evan tossed the latest copy of The Daily Prophet into the fire on his way out of the common room. The Wizarding World had been watching the hunt for Gellert Grindelwald with obsessive scrutiny for the last two days. Now Dumbledore had joined the search. No one, it seemed, could figure out how Grindelwald had slipped through dozens of enchantments on a prison that prevented magical use. (As ever, ‘magical use’ applied only to wizards.) Evan was starting to form a very low opinion of the general consensus on wizarding supremacy where it concerned other magical beings.

He arrived on the seventh floor still lost in thought, but he only had a minute to wait before Regulus appeared from within. He looked terrible.

Evan’s chest clenched. ‘You all right, mate?’ He tried to keep his voice light and concerned, but his throat sealed almost entirely over. Since learning Regulus had tried to kill himself, Evan hadn’t been able to breathe properly. It was as if the guilt had taken physical form and seated itself upon his heart and lungs, threatening to suffocate him for his crimes every time he looked at his best friend. He knew he would never, ever forgive himself. Seeing Regulus like this made all the fear and guilt increase tenfold, eager to destroy him irreparably, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. Hold him. Try, in whatever way he could, to fix the damage he had wrought.

‘No.’ Regulus sounded like he’d swallowed glass. ‘Far from it. James and I broke up.’

Evan hesitated - the lump in his throat made it nearly impossible to breathe - and then he wrapped his arms around Regulus. He did not expect Regulus to return the gesture, nor had he anticipated how tightly Regulus would hold onto him. As if he was some kind of lifeline. And if he could have been that to Regulus, Evan would have.

‘Do you want to have breakfast with the house elves and avoid the Great Hall?’

‘I can’t avoid the Great Hall forever.’

It was on the tip of Evan’s tongue to say that he’d avoided the dormitory and common room all year, but decided it didn’t matter either way. Regulus seemed very near to disintegrating and Evan wasn’t going to let that happen. Not again.

Not because of James bloody Potter.

Thankfully, Barty, Milicent and several other Slytherins were all milling around outside of the entrance to the Great Hall when they arrived downstairs ten minutes later. The moment they caught sight of Regulus, they surrounded him worriedly. The change in their behaviour was, if one were to ask Evan, the only good thing the Dark Lord had ever done.

‘Oh, Reg, what happened?’ asked Milicent, running her fingers through his hair and doing her best to tidy the absolute mess of it.

‘I broke up with James,’ he muttered.

Shock flashed across everyone’s faces.

‘What? Why?’ asked Aurora, taking his hand.

Regulus blinked at her several times, as if he didn’t quite see her, before replying. ‘He told my brother something he promised me he’d never share. Once again, fucking Sirius comes first.’

Though no one in the group had a good opinion of Sirius Black, no one chose that moment to bring it up.

Aurora nodded sympathetically. ‘That’s why I broke up with Henry. Couple stuff shouldn’t be shared with friends. It’s not cool.’

‘Thank you,’ Regulus grunted.

Barty moved to Regulus’ side and extricated him from Evan, Aurora and Milicent. Evan shot him a glare that Barty ignored. He straightened Regulus’ robes, fixed his tie, and then clapped his cheek gently. ‘You are Regulus Black,’ he said with kind firmness. ‘You are better than James Potter by a thousand miles. You are the Dark Lord’s new favourite. You are going to walk into that hall and show him exactly how stupid he was to throw away your heart. Make him regret it. And don’t show anyone but us your tears. We’ve got you.’ He nodded firmly and cocked his head towards the door.

Anguish might have been his shadow that day, but something in Barty’s speech made it through. Regulus took a deep breath, nodded and allowed Barty to steer him into the Great Hall.

The other Slytherins followed two by two.

Regulus could feel the eyes of the Marauders on him as he sat down between Evan and Barty, but did not look up until Barty stood and someone else took his place.

‘Hi.’

Regulus looked sharply at Remus. He hadn’t spoken to Remus since the day before in the Room of Requirement. ‘Hi?’

‘I thought you broke up with James?’ asked Aurora, confused.

‘I did,’ said Regulus.

Remus shrugged. ‘Does that change what we all talked about? Our summer plans?’

Barty’s eyebrows shot up, but he looked pleased. He seemed to genuinely like Remus in a way he’d never extend to either Sirius or James.

‘Right?’ Remus nudged Regulus with his elbow. ‘We have too much to do still.’

It was a loaded comment and one the Death Eater hopefuls wouldn’t pick up on. Regulus felt heartened despite everything.

‘Right,’ he echoed, forcing a smile.

Remus poured them both coffee before glancing at the others. ‘Did you all see the news from Wales this morning?’

‘Wait, is Grindelwald in Wales?’ asked Tadhg from Aurora’s other side. He was wearing his Quidditch robes and Regulus had a feeling he’d been up before dawn obsessively training for the upcoming match.

Milicent, whose owl had just delivered that day’s Daily Prophet, picked it up. ‘No. Two hundred people are missing, apparently.’

‘You know,’ said Barty. ‘Rabastan wrote to me recently. Apparently Fenrir Greyback’s going to have a rally this weekend in Wales. It’s probably him. The article says the people disappeared from a town that’s known to have a high Mudblood population, yeah? That’s definitely Greyback.’

‘What?’

Regulus glanced at Remus, who had gone sick-white.

Barty bobbed his head, oblivious. ‘He’s been wanting to turn Mudbloods into werewolves. Specifically those tied to governmental positions. I’m not sure if there’s an actual aim for it or if he just likes the chaos and fear.’

‘Ew,’ said Milicent, picking at her Danish. ‘That’s so unnecessary. Just take their wands, wipe their minds and send them back to the Muggles. We don’t have to murder everyone. Gosh.’

Regulus had to let go of his coffee cup for fear of breaking it. Remus, too, seemed to be struggling to maintain the charade of agreement.

‘Greyback can’t turn two hundred people, be serious,’ cut in Evan. ‘He’s a braggart. And not a convincing one.’

Barty shook his head. ‘No, I think he can. Rabastan’s mentioned he’s gone a bit batty. Apparently the Dark Lord has started calling him our “attack dog” and setting him on people. I think he bit like thirty in one go last summer.’

‘That didn’t make the news,’ said Remus softly.

‘Nope.’ Barty shrugged. ‘They are Mudbloods. Who cares?’

‘How could he bite thirty at once?’ asked Geoffrey. ‘That’s a bit hard to believe.’

‘Apparently he doesn’t have to transform to turn people anymore. He did some sort of experimental transfiguration upon himself. So if he’s got them all stunned or Stupified or something, it’s not really that hard.’

Regulus felt deeply unwell, but he was also trying very hard to plan. He didn’t have time to get upset. To tell Barty and Milicent off.

‘We should go,’ he found himself saying. ‘You, me, Remus, Evan – anyone who wants.’ He added this last part betting that they wouldn’t. Few at the table, if any, were as radicalised to the cause as Barty himself.

‘And do what?’ asked Milicent. ‘I don’t fancy walking around mongrels all night. And he’s absolutely filthy.’

‘He’s respected by the Dark Lord,’ countered Regulus. It was taking everything he had to maintain control. ‘We should go and ensure no one escapes. Help them keep a lid on things. Prove ourselves before we take the Mark this summer.’

‘Ew,’ said Aurora. ‘When it’s a task for the Dark Lord, get back to me.’

‘Likewise,’ said Milicent.

This seemed the general opinion.

‘I’m in,’ said Barty, who looked thirsty for violence.

‘Me too,’ said Evan, though he had a look in his eyes that assured Regulus that he was still just as appalled by Voldemort as he had always been.

When Regulus met Remus’ gaze, the older boy nodded tightly.

‘Excellent,’ said Milicent, returning to her breakfast. ‘Give dog-boy our best.’

Regulus forced himself to remain at the table another two minutes before he stood and left, citing an unfinished assignment.

‘I’ll walk you,’ said Remus, nodding farewell to the Slytherins and falling into step beside him.

They turned into the first empty classroom they passed and Remus closed the door behind them and locked it.

‘Tell me you have a plan,’ he whispered, unable to mask his hysteria.

Regulus sat on the corner of a desk and crossed his arms. ‘We’ll have to work around Barty. I knew he’d volunteer, but I think it’d be more suspicious not to include him since the information came from him.’

Remus’ lip curled. ‘Christ, I wanted to punch the lot of them.’

‘I think there’s dents in my palm from trying not to.’ Regulus scoffed. ‘I have an idea, but I need to think it through first.’

‘Right.’ Remus forced a stilted breath. ‘You, me versus Barty, Evan and a load of Death Eaters. Merlin.’

‘Evan’s on our side. He just doesn’t know he is.’

Remus rubbed his jaw roughly. ‘I think we ought to tell Dumbledore.’

‘Dumbledore’s in Germany worrying about Grindelwald.’

‘Shite.’

Regulus sighed. ‘What do we know about Greyback’s inner circle?’

‘Not much.’ Remus leaned back against the wall. He looked like he was having trouble standing. ‘He used to have a small group. That might have changed.’

‘I want to know what spell can control mass numbers of people all at once.’

‘Surely we’d know about something like that?’

Regulus tilted his head to the side. ‘How much forbidden information have we come across this term alone?’

‘True.’ Remus eyed him worriedly. ‘Did you help Grindelwald break out of prison?’

‘You have a lot of faith in my spells and my madness, Remus.’

‘Is that a yes?’

‘What do you think?’

Remus held his gaze for a long time, certainty in his kind eyes. ‘Since I know you’re not a fool, I’m going to assume you have some kind of safeguard?’

Regulus shrugged. ‘It would be stupid to break a murderer out of prison and not have safeguards, wouldn’t it?’

Rolling his eyes, Remus walked over and stopped in front of him. ‘How are you so good at lying to everyone else and so terrible at lying to me?’

‘Maybe I don’t want to lie to everyone,’ said Regulus quietly. ‘Maybe if something had happened, you’d have been there if James hadn’t …’ He clenched his jaw and looked away, unable to finish.

Remus wrapped an arm around him and tugged him to the door. ‘Come on, little star. You have class and I have to meditate before you and your brother send me to Crazytown.’

‘You’re not going to ask more?’

‘No,’ said Remus firmly. ‘I believe in you. In this war, I’m starting to think I believe in you most of all.’

And, somehow, Regulus managed a small smile.

James had not moved from his bed all Tuesday. Monday had been wretched; somehow Tuesday was worse. But he wasn’t sleeping. Mostly he was staring at the ceiling and wishing he could set it on fire with his eyes. When he wasn’t doing that, he was beating himself up over telling Sirius anything.

He was still in bed hating everyone and everything including himself – but mostly excluding Regulus, who he couldn’t hate at all, no matter how heartbroken he was – when the other Marauders returned after lunch with food for him.

‘You can’t stay in bed forever,’ said Peter, sitting beside him.

‘Watch me.’

‘Eat something,’ said Sirius, claiming the empty space on his other side.

‘I’m not hungry.’

Sirius waved the sandwich in front of his face, prompting a few pieces of lettuce and pickles to dislodge and fall onto James’ face, who wiped the vegetables off with a scowl. Sirius had clearly made the sandwich himself too, because there was an inhuman amount of meat, cheese and vegetables that were barely contained by the napkin he’d encased it in. ‘You can’t win him back if you starve yourself to death, Jamie.’

Flicking a pickle at him, James said, ‘Win him back?’

‘Regulus thinks he can’t trust you – well, prove him wrong. He’s mad because he’s hurt. And most of that is my fault. It won’t last forever.’

Belatedly, James took the sandwich and sat up.

‘Besides,’ said Peter. ‘He’s not mad at Remus. Moony ate breakfast with them. He’s not, like, totally cutting us off.’

James’ focus snapped to Remus. ‘You did?’

‘Well I thought we might want to get ahead of the Death Eater hopefuls. We worked hard to get this far and we can’t let our in slip away because of a stupid fight.’

‘At least you can keep an eye on him.’

‘Precisely.’ Remus offered an encouraging smile. He seemed to be the only one who hadn’t spiralled into despair over the weekend following the revelations – even Peter, who hated any kind of confrontation or conflict, had been out of sorts all weekend. ‘He doesn’t hate you, James. He’s upset because he thinks Sirius matters more to you than him.’

Sirius and James both opened their mouths at this.

‘He—’

‘It doesn’t matter how you feel or how you think he should respond to your declarations, noble and genuine as I know they are,’ said Remus pointedly, cutting off James’ outcry that no one mattered more. ‘It matters what you do. The promises you keep. Right now, as far as Regulus is concerned, the only promises you won’t break are the ones you’ve made to us. Not the ones you’ve made to him.’

James felt like Remus had stabbed him with a red-hot poker, but he knew there was truth in the words. Trust was not something that came easily to Regulus, and James had betrayed that. But he could fix it. He was good at fixing things. He and Regulus were meant to be together and this was just a hiccup along the way. One James was certain he could rectify.

With this in mind, James was able to eat the enormous sandwich while Remus relayed the very disturbing conversation that morning at the Slytherin table.

Regulus had been sitting beside the lake smoking for the better part of an hour, blatantly skiving off his last class, when Sirius found him. He arrived just as storm clouds began filling the sky, which Regulus thought was rather fitting.

‘Can we talk?’ Sirius had stopped a few paces away and was watching Regulus with an uncertainty that was incongruous to everything Regulus knew about him.

‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ he muttered.

‘Well, tough.’

Regulus blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘I’m not in the mood to discuss this with you, Sirius. I never wanted you to know.’

‘I should know that my brother tried to kill himself.’

‘Why? What business is it of yours?’

‘Because it’s my fault!’

Regulus’ scoff sounded like a strangled sob and he stuck the joint back in his mouth to mask it, and returned his attention to the lake. ‘Go away, Sirius.’

‘I—’

Springing to his feet, Regulus whipped around to fully face his brother. ‘Go. Away. I don’t want your apology! I don’t want you here trying to make yourself feel better! You left me in Hell and didn’t realise or care or even ask me what my life was like until James and Remus forced you to. No one except the Grey Lady realised anything was wrong. A fucking ghost who speaks to no one cared more about me than my own family! No one gave a shit about me. Not you, not Mum, not Dad, not anyone. I am a fucking afterthought to everyone!’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Then why did you leave me?’ Regulus threw out his arms. ‘If I wasn’t an afterthought to you – why did you not take me with you?’

‘I …’

‘Exactly.’ Regulus stared at him, chest heaving. ‘All I ever wanted was to be the person who mattered most to you and you weren’t there for me. You were never there for me. And you don’t deserve to know about how I handled a darkness that you left me in!’

Regulus made to walk past him when Sirius caught his arm. The reaction was instant and Regulus hadn’t realised he’d punched Sirius until a moment after it had happened.

Sirius didn’t fall, but his cheek began to redden as tears of helpless heartbreak welled in his almost black eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he choked out. ‘I’m so fucking sorry, mon frère.’

‘Fuck you,’ said Regulus viciously. ‘And fuck James. You can tell him that from me, too. I am utterly done with you both. This little experiment of yours – letting me into your lives – it’s done. I’m done.’

This time when he tried to leave, Sirius did not stop him.

Had anyone been watching the brothers Black, they would have seen nearly identical looks of devastation on the faces of both brothers, mirroring each other even as the space grew between them, more alike in feeling and fear and love than either of them could admit in that moment.

Chapter Text

On Wednesday, Regulus slipped out of Hogwarts after class - pointedly skiving off Quidditch training - and took the secret passageway behind the statue of the one-eyed witch to Hogsmeade. The afternoon was sunny and mild and the park, streets and shop front dining areas teamed with locals. It wasn’t an open weekend, so he saw no other students about, but none of the locals paid him a second glance. He’d opted for the leather jacket Sirius had given him and looked like any other wizard on their way to Muggle London. (Despite the canyon-like wedge between them, somehow it was the only outfit Regulus ever felt safe in and most days when he wasn’t in his school robes, he was in the jacket.)

He shopped for food and necessities on his way to his house, only slightly stalling in first the clothes shop, and then the grocer’s, wherein he took far too long to decide which type of cheese and pasta and milk to purchase. Not because he was a snob where it concerned food – he’d never been picky. No, it was the unexpected rush of nervous tension that had gripped his heart and lungs the moment he set foot in Hogsmeade. He smoked agitatedly as he walked between the shops, unable to calm his mind or soothe the racing of his heart no matter how pleasant and uneventful the day had been. For the last week, he felt like he was in a constant state of flight.

In the days since he’d broken Grindelwald out of prison, his doubt in having done so had risen. He had done it fuelled by rage and though he was certain he’d done it for good reasons, too, he worried that he’d been too rash in acting. But these fears vanished when he stepped into the house roughly thirty minutes later to find all was well. Grindelwald greeted him with a broad smile and waved him inside. He still looked too-thin and too-pale, but even a few days out of cell seemed to have done him a world of good. He wore some of Regulus’ own clothes, which were too small for him, and his face lit up when Regulus handed him the bag of new clothes. Thinking of the state of the castle – if nothing else – assured Regulus that he’d done the right thing. No one should be forced to live like that. And Grindelwald seemed truly grateful to simply live like a person again.

‘Tell me you have more coffee,’ said Grindelwald, tossing the shirt he had been wearing onto the back of the chair and tugging on the new scarlet one Regulus had purchased. He had several wretched looking scars, but Regulus knew better than to pass comment. He had his own set of uncomfortable scars on his torso.

Instead he grinned and held out the shopping bags. ‘And sustenance.’

‘Then you are most welcome.’

‘I wasn’t sure what you’d like,’ he admitted, following Grindelwald into the kitchen and waving to Nori and Leta. ‘I got some of everything. I also got you some books.’

Grindelwald began removing the books from the second bag, a smile curving his freshly shaven cheek as he inspected each title in turn. ‘You have good taste, Mr Black.’

‘Cheers.’

‘Any news on the search for me?’

Regulus reached into the other bag and handed him that morning’s Daily Prophet and the latest copy of Weekly Wizard Wisdoms – a more thoroughly researched, monthly publication – that he’d picked up on the way. ‘They’re still looking in Germany. Everyone’s concocting different ideas about your intentions. None of which are accurate.’

‘Are some at least amusing?’

‘One theory is that you’re planning to kill the Minister.’

Grindelwald scoffed and picked up the rolled up copy of The Daily Prophet. ‘Albus is there,’ he noted, scanning the article.

‘Good. We don’t want him here looking, do we?’ Regulus tried not to think about lying to Dumbledore. He wasn’t sure there was anything he’d done yet that would be so difficult. Even lying to the Dark Lord was easier. Yet he thought Grindelwald seemed a little disappointed all the same, and wondered fleetingly if he still loved Dumbledore as he once had.

As Regulus made them coffee, he told Grindelwald, Nori and Leta about Greyback’s plans for the captured Muggleborns. By the time he finished, Grindelwald looked furious.

‘Turning witches and wizards into werewolves is cruel barbarism,’ he seethed.

‘Can we stop them?’

‘Without compromising your cover?’

Regulus inclined his head grimly.

‘Leave it with me a few days. I might have an idea.’

His heart leapt. ‘Really?’

Grindelwald nodded. ‘I made you an oath, Regulus. And I do nothing half-heartedly. If I am to be a villain, then I shall excel in that regard. I will be Tom Riddle’s villain. Perhaps then history will remember me more fondly than it does.’

This intrigued Regulus. ‘You care how you’re remembered?’

Grindelwald sat back, circling his middle finger absently around the rim of his mug. ‘However I meet my end, however the world remembers me – I do not wish to be a tragedy. I have collected and doled out too many for several lifetimes. Perhaps by helping you, I may atone enough to be a tale of redemption, not sorrow. I have never wanted to be a tragic tale.’

Regulus offered him a hopeful smile. ‘Then let us ensure that no matter how many tragedies we’ve endured, we do not let ourselves be consumed by them. Let tragedy choke on us.’

Grindelwald tapped his cup against Regulus’. ‘Hear hear.’

Regulus ended up staying the rest of the afternoon and early evening with Grindelwald, Leta and Nori. Kreacher came by for dinner with Nori just after twilight and assured Regulus that there was nothing new to report before heading into Nori’s room for a quiet meal.

When Regulus departed after dinner, Leta remained behind at the house instead of following him back to Hogwarts. She was more worried about the jail break than Regulus and had taken it upon herself to shadow Grindelwald.

He took the long way back to Hogwarts and the stars were out, the lanterns lit, when he drew near to the castle. He was almost inside when he heard a gaggle of familiar voices and he glanced over his shoulder despite himself. James, Sirius, Remus and the whole team of Gryffindor Quidditch players were making their way up from the pitch. Judging by the books in Remus’ arms, he’d been in the stands studying while the others practised.

The sight of James made pain grip Regulus’ heart. Their eyes locked for the briefest moment before Regulus turned and walked away, ignoring his brother’s calls to wait. To listen.

Not wanting to be alone with his anguish, Regulus tracked down Evan in the library and twenty minutes after that the pair were in the Room of Requirement, essays and books and notes spread out between.

‘How is he?’ asked Evan after Regulus filled him in on everything at the house. ‘Grindelwald?’

Regulus nodded. ‘He’s good. Holding up all right, I reckon.’

‘That’s good.’ Evan eyed him for a second. ‘You worried about Dumbledore coming back?’

‘Yes.’

Evan exhaled slowly. ‘More and more your idea about not coming back next year sounds appealing. If only to keep myself from going grey from stress.’

Regulus smirked. ‘Tell me about it.’

Night passed by around them, both attempting to be the prodigious students they’d been the year before. It seemed to work, too, for the clock over the mantlepiece struck midnight without either of them realising the hour. Regulus tossed his quill aside, exhausted. He glanced over at Evan, debating.

It was as Evan finished gathering his homework into his bag that Regulus finally plucked up the courage to ask the question he’d been struggling with all evening.

‘When we go to Wales …’ he began, and Evan looked over at him.

‘Yeah?’

‘We’re not going to help Greyback,’ he said, heart slamming so hard in his chest he felt ill. ‘We don’t do that to other wizards. We’re going to stop him. We’re going to stop him and Barty can’t know. Are you still with me?’

Evan slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and fixed Regulus with a slightly exasperated smile. ‘If I didn’t know how in love with James Potter you still were, I’d kiss you right now to prove to you how rhetorical your question is. Of course I’m with you, Regulus. The Dark Lord can think it’s because he told me to, and my dad can think it’s because I’m trying to climb the social fucking ladder, and Potter can think it’s because I’m trying to get between the pair of you – but all of them would be wrong. All of them. I’m at your side because it’s the only place I can fucking breathe.’

Regulus nodded. ‘That’s why I’m telling you.’

‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’ Regulus held up a hand in a half wave. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ Evan winked at him before turning and taking his leave.

Regulus dropped back onto his bed, utterly exhausted.

The end of term could not arrive fast enough.

The wax-sealed letter came by unfamiliar owl Thursday morning just as breakfast got underway, and Barty excused himself the second he caught sight of the handwriting on the envelope. It was handwriting he’d memorised. Handwriting he’d fallen in love with years ago.

In the thankfully deserted corridor outside the Great Hall, he sat down on an empty bench and hastily unfolded the letter.

Barty,

Your recommendation for the spell worked a treat! Thank you again! You’re the only one I can talk to about these things. Rabastan is useless and I know he only tolerates me for his late brother’s sake, and Cissy’s too distracted. I don’t know why she’s so broken up about Andromeda. We’re better off without a blood traitor, but Cissy’s not wholly convinced she can’t get Andy back on our side. But it’s all she talks about now that I can never get a word in edgewise. You’re the only one who listens. The only one who cares.

The Dark Lord’s concluded that Grindelwald has indeed entered Britain, but narrowing it down beyond that is almost impossible. I don’t believe Grindelwald is our side, nor do I think he plans to join us. He’s an old, useless wizard from bygone days who probably didn’t want to die in a tower so he took off. Not that I blame him, but I simply don’t see him helping us.

I’ve been back in the manor for a few days now. Rabastan’s staying with his girlfriend, so it’s quiet. Only myself and the Dark Lord. A few ministry officials have come by, but his spells are so powerful they never realise when he’s standing right behind them. (It’s become almost a fun game!)

Would you be able to slip away from the castle tonight? I do so need a friend to talk to and Cissy is too distracted. If you can, meet me in our usual spot at eleven. (The new password is ‘Gargoyles’.)

I can get you back to Hogsmeade by dawn!

Love,
Bella x

Barty refolded the letter carefully and tucked it into his robes’ pocket. The thought of seeing Bellatrix alone made his heart all but fly in his chest.

He hardly paid attention to the rest of his classes. After his last class of the day, Transfiguration, he slipped out of the crowd of students and made his way to one of the secret passageways to Hogsmeade.

In Tillerman’s, a hardware shop, he handed over a bag of galleons. The shopkeeper waved him towards the back where his chimney was connected to the Floo network. (They had done this routine enough times now that words were unnecessary.) The Floo brought him to The Leaky Cauldron in London. Waving to the barman and leaving a coin purse of galleons on the counter, Barty carried on without pausing.

Rain hammered down and he drew his hood, easily disappearing into the crowds leaving Diagon Alley for one of the many side streets. Customers, merchants, workers, bankers, tradesmen, pickpockets and students all filled the cobblestone paths, providing helpful cover for a student not meant to be away from boarding school. In contrast, Knockturn Alley was teaming with all sorts of reprobates and he kept his hand in his pocket over his wand and wallet as he moved through the throngs, but Barty ignored all the sneers, the watchful eyes, the intimidating noises and catcalls. Knockturn Alley had stopped frightening him right around the time Bella first told him about Darkburn Alley.

Two streets past Borgin and Burkes, a dark road led through the shadows to a seemingly dead end. Drawing his wand, he tapped the thirteenth brick from the ground and said, ‘Gargoyles.’

The bricks disintegrated in the middle of the wall and he walked through. Darkburn Alley, one of the most hidden, most hated, most reviled streets in London, stretched out before him. To Barty, it was like being welcomed home. The bricks that separated Knockturn from Darkburn reformed as he walked the short stretch of stone road towards The Roundtable, one of the oldest pubs in Britain (and by far hosting the worst reputation). In recent years, it was a Death Eater hangout and few messed with those known to be favourites of the Dark Lord.

Several familiar Death Eater faces looked over at him as he entered; a few called their greetings. Barty waved to Lucius, who was clustered with a group of Ministry spies, as he passed by. Lucius waved to him, but neither stopped.

‘Barty!’

He turned right as he rounded the bar, a smile breaking across his face at the sight of Bellatrix waiting for him. She was all sharp edges, violent contrasts, a smile like a blade and eyes that stabbed right through to his heart. To him she was always the most captivating sight around. No one else had ever - would ever - compare.

Striding over to her, he kissed her cheek, subtly inhaling the scent of her skin.

‘Oh, you came!’ She hugged him tightly again before seizing his hand and bringing down the steps into the piano bar below ground. ‘Do you want a drink?’

‘What are you having?’

‘I’m in the mood for a milkshake.’

Barty laughed. Bella was never predictable.

‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s have milkshakes.’

After the elf working the bar brought them milkshakes, Barty leaned back in the booth to admire her. He never could stop when he was near her.

‘What’s your news?’ he prompted. ‘That you can’t tell Narcissa about?’

To his surprise, her cheeks reddened incongruously.

‘That good?’ he guessed, grinning.

Bella cast a quick silencing spell upon the booth’s alcove, muting both the bar’s music and ensuring that no one could overhear them. He’d never known her to be anything less than utterly confident – defiantly so. Now she seemed almost vulnerable and it made his heart gallop. He knew he was young and inexperienced, but he wanted to protect her. Wanted to kill anyone who had upset her. He ached to.

‘You promise not to tell anyone?’

Barty put his hand over hers, delighting in the way she threaded their fingers together. ‘I promise. Tell me.’

She leaned in. He followed.

‘I’m pregnant!’

The words didn’t register straight away. He recoiled slightly, stunned. He felt like he’d been punched in the heart. He had thought Bella knew about his feelings – had hoped she might one day return them. But this was not something he had ever expected. Rodolphus’ death had given him such a sickening hope that he’d have a chance.

Only ever in her own world and thus thoroughly unaware of his inner turmoil, Bella continued, ‘It was Andromeda’s betrayal that gave me the courage to finally tell the Dark Lord of my true feelings.’

Barty stared at her in disbelieving bitterness.

For the first time in his life, he hated the Dark Lord.

‘He’s pleased to have an heir.’ She sat back, and suddenly seemed vulnerable again. And when she tucked a strand of wavy black hair behind a delicate ear, he noticed that her hand trembled.

His rage mounted, but his concern reignited alongside it.

‘I’m not sure he’s quite …’ She let out a small, sad laugh. ‘The most brilliant rarely are hands-on parents. I know that better than anyone. My own parents were never around. Too busy bettering the cause. And I admire them for that. I’m grateful. I am. But … I suppose I believed Tom would be more excited. He’s not. Our child is the heir of Slytherin himself, pureblood royalty, and all he cares about is Dumbledore and Grindelwald.’

Barty had never heard her refer to the Dark Lord as ‘Tom’ and it made a shiver of disgust slither across his flesh. He ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to resist the urge to lash out at the man he’d admired for so, so long. The man he’d loved more than his own father until this very moment.

His eyes flicked to Bella’s stomach and he knew, wrath rising, that he would never love the Dark Lord again.

Forcing the hurricane of emotions down and away into the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind, Barty stood and moved to her side of the booth. Taking her hand once more, he leaned in, his face close to hers. He placed his other hand on her stomach.

‘The heir of Salazar Slytherin?’ He smiled at her. ‘The heir of Bellatrix Black. I’m sure there’s a prophecy out there somewhere about your child. Something tells me even the darkness will fear them.’

Bella’s breath caught in her throat. She raised a perfectly manicured hand and caressed his face. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘If you let me, I’ll ensure it.’ He had never meant any words so much. He continued, ‘The Dark Lord speaks of an eternal empire of purity to fix the world. How better to ensure that than the purest bloodline? After all, Tom won’t live forever.’

‘Yes, he will.’

Barty frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

She hesitated.

‘Tell me.’ Barty brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. ‘You know I won’t tell anyone. I would never betray you, Bells.’

Bella seemed to be wrestling with whatever it was she knew, but after a long pause, she gestured for him to get out of the booth. She took his hand and led him out of The Roundtable and back into Darkburn Alley.

Ten minutes later they were making their way up the steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It was the middle of the night, but the bank never fully closed. Goblins worked at all hours.

‘What are we doing here?’ he asked as she requested access to her vault.

‘You’ll see.’

Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts the following morning, appearing in the Great Hall just as the morning’s Daily Prophet arrived with the headline: GRINDELWALD OUTWITS DUMBLEDORE. The Slytherins crowed about it amongst themselves, but Regulus felt terrible. Dumbledore looked like he’d bade farewell to rest some nights back.

Regulus drowned his guilty conscience in tea and focused instead on all that he had achieved in fighting the Dark Lord. Which, he hoped, would count in his favour once the truth of what he’d done was unearthed. He had gained Voldemort’s praise and relayed Death Eater intel to the Order of the Phoenix; he had saved Mrs Potter; he had opened Voldemort’s secret tomb and given the cursed diary – which might be a horcrux – to Dumbledore. Surely a little jail break in the quest for the greater good was understandable? He hoped.

Breakfast was nearly done when Dumbledore stood and a hush fell over the Great Hall.

‘Before you all take your leave, I would like to introduce you to Professor Trelawney.’ He gestured to a witch at the table Regulus had been too preoccupied to notice. ‘She will be taking over as Divination professor next year, as Professor Giles is retiring. She will be shadowing classes in the interim.’

There was a smattering of applause.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully. Regulus didn’t take Divination, so he had no interaction with the new professor, though Barty didn’t seem to appreciate her much.

That evening after Quidditch, Regulus headed back to Hogsmeade. He arrived to find Grindelwald cooking while Leta read aloud from an old book, its pages turning on command.

‘’Evening,’ he called, setting the groceries he’d purchased on the table and beginning to put everything away. He had been too busy all day to eat – avoiding the Great Hall to avoid seeing James was becoming an artform. ‘Food, then business.’

‘Food always comes first,’ said Grindelwald sagely. He held out a spoon with a serving of the stew. It was delicious. For a man who had been imprisoned in a tower for decades, he was a remarkably good cook.

‘I bought more things,’ said Regulus. ‘And Nori sent a note to Hogwarts saying to bring seeds. Not sure why?’

Grindelwald chuckled and took the sachets of seeds from him. ‘I spent all morning sorting out the garden.’

Regulus peered through the dark window, but could hardly see a thing. He was glad Grindelwald was at least finding ways to pass the time that wasn’t just research and made a mental note to check out the garden after they ate.

‘So,’ said Grindelwald ten minutes later as he, Regulus, Nori and Leta took their seats around the table. (Well, Leta floated above her chair.) ‘Of your friends, Evan knows about me but not your true allegiance; Remus, who is accompanying us to Wales, knows about your true allegiance but not me; and your ex-boyfriend, your brother and Albus know about you but not me and we are not currently speaking to any of them or plan to clue them in. Yes?’

‘Yes. And Barty, who is also coming to Wales, knows neither the truth about you nor about my allegiance, and thinks I’m the Dark Lord’s new favourite and like it that way.’

‘And Barty is a close friend?’

Leta and Nori both shook their heads vigorously and Regulus grimaced in agreement. ‘Not anymore.’

Grindelwald mulled this over while eating a mouthful of stew. ‘You’ve built yourself quite the web of lies.’

‘I’m aware.’

‘Then you cannot start the chaos, nor be seen helping.’

‘No.’

For all these caveats, Grindelwald did not seem daunted or dissuaded. He seemed to enjoy the thrill of the challenge. ‘Would you permit me to track them?’ he asked, wiping his plate clean of stew with a piece of bread.

The question took Regulus by surprise. ‘You’re asking for my permission?’

‘You freed me – and it is you to whom I swore an oath. I wish us both to be friends, comrades. So, do I have your permission? I will be able to get us a better plan. If I can do this my way.’

Regulus inclined his head, but it was slightly hesitant. He could only hope that the oaths Grindelwald had sworn to him were enough.

‘Set up a portkey to Cardiff,’ said Grindelwald. ‘I will meet you there an hour before.’

‘We’re going to save them, aren’t we?’ Regulus felt sick at the thought of so many innocents forced into lycanthropy by a madman.

‘We’re certainly going to try.’

Hours later, Regulus was nearly back to the seventh floor, his mind filled with werewolves and portkeys and Death Eaters, when someone yanked his robes back so hard he choked. Stars burst in front of his eyes as he collided with the wall forcefully.

Severus Snape’s face swam into view as Regulus struggled to breathe.

‘You’re like a demented popup book,’ rasped Regulus. ‘What do you want?’

‘I don’t know which side you’re on, Black, but I know you’re a liar.’ Severus sounded half manic, though Regulus hadn’t a clue what he’d done this time. He guessed it was to do with Lily again, though he wasn’t sure how their lack of a relationship was his fault.

‘You seem to know a lot about me.’

‘I know you’re lying to the Dark Lord and I know you’re lying to Dumbledore.’

‘And I know Lily Evans wouldn’t touch you with gloves on and a face mask.’

He really should have expected to be punched for that, but the pain caught him by surprise regardless, spiralling through his cheek, jaw and temple.

He was trying to clear his vision when a blast from his left sent Severus flying across the hall – and over the side of the railing.

Taken aback, Regulus stumbled over to the railing and looked down. His vision tilted. Severus was lying in a heap on the stone floor far below. When Regulus glanced to his left to see who his rescuer was, he saw James lowering his wand, a furious expression on his face.

‘Are you all right?’ James stilled in front of him, rage all but a companion by his side. His eyes narrowed as his gaze swept over Regulus’ face. His jaw visibly clenched as he caught sight of what Regulus guessed were fast forming bruises. ‘Come on.’

Perhaps it was the fact that his ears were still ringing and his face was throbbing, but Regulus allowed James to steer him down the stairs towards – he realised belatedly – the hospital wing.

Inside the hospital wing, James rummaged around in the cabinet and produced a bottle of Bathilda’s Bruise-Be-Gone.

‘Here,’ he said, pressing it gently into Regulus’ hand. ‘Drink it all. Trust me.’

Not taking James’ hand physically hurt, but Regulus somehow managed to take the bottle and down it in three gulps without losing his composure. Almost immediately, the pain in his face numbed and when he touched his cheek, he couldn’t feel it.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured.

James took the bottle from him and tossed it into the bin. ‘What was his problem this time?’

‘Lily.’

‘He needs a new fixation.’

‘Yeah, no shit. I don’t know what she saw in him in the first place.’

‘That makes two of us.’

A tense, weighted silence fell between them then and Regulus moved belatedly to the door, ignoring the way every fibre of his being told him to forgive James and just let it go. More than anything – any feeling or inclination or desire he’d ever had – he wanted to reach out, close the space between them and thread his fingers through James’. He wanted James to hold him and tell him everything would be all right and to forget it had ever happened.

‘I am sorry.’

Regulus stopped short, eyes closing as the longing burned him. He forced a swallow that did nothing to steady his voice when he finally managed to summon a reply. ‘I know you’re sorry,’ he murmured, glancing back and meeting James’ gaze. ‘I don’t doubt that you’re sorry.’

Anguish flooded James’ hazel eyes, visible even in the gloom and he closed the painful distance between them. ‘Is there nothing I can do?’ His hands came up to cradle Regulus’ face. ‘Nothing I can say? I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.’

Regulus leaned into his touch for the briefest of moments, his entire being aching for James, but he drew back when he felt James inching closer. ‘I love you, too, James. I love you more than anyone. But love isn’t always enough.’ He shook his head sadly, wishing more than anything that he didn’t feel like it needed to be said. Inhaling shakily, he continued, ‘I love you, but I don’t trust you not to go behind my back if you think it’s in my own best interest. I don’t trust you to do what I want because it’s what I want, not what I want until what you think is best for me contradicts my wants. Protecting me—’ He choked on the lump that had risen in his throat. ‘Protecting me is all good and well, but it isn’t what I need from you. Dumbledore protects me. Kreacher protects me. Remus and Evan and so many others are doing that now. What I need from my boyfriend is to know that you’ll have my back when you tell me that you will. That you’ll have my back even when you don’t agree with it. That when I ask you to keep something between us, my brother doesn’t hear about it because you let it slip. But I don’t trust you to do that. I don’t trust you not to run to Sirius or whomever else if you think it’ll keep me safe. And while I love you for that – I am tired of coming second to Sirius. I am tired of my wishes coming second.’

‘They don’t. He doesn’t.’ James reached out again, but stopped when Regulus took another step back. ‘Baby—’

‘I think the only thing worse than losing you now, is losing you later. At least if I walk away now, I’ll have more good memories than bad.’

Regulus watched the words break James’ heart. He wondered if James knew how much they broke his heart to admit.

He was halfway out the door when James called after him.

‘Fenrir Greyback is Remus’ maker.’

Cold disquiet spread through Regulus as he turned back once more. He had wondered, often, who it was who ruined Remus’ life. Somehow he had never expected it to be the most infamous werewolf of them all.

‘It’s not a secret,’ James added pointedly. ‘All the Marauders know. Greyback attacked him to get back at his dad for his stance in the Ministry years ago. Remus would tell you if you asked, but I know you. I know you’re too polite. You should know that for this weekend, though. Remus is not thinking straight. There’s no one, not even Voldemort, he fears more. And there’s no one, not even Voldemort, who he wants dead more.’

Heart hammering with this new information, Regulus inclined his head. ‘You know I won’t let anything happen to him.’

‘I know.’ James offered a weak smile. ‘I trust you.’

They held gazes for a long, weighted moment after that, and then Regulus finally turned and trudged out of the hospital wing, mind whirling.

The owlery was empty of all but the owls when Sirius arrived. It took a moment’s coaxing to get one of the owls to awaken and take the letter, but a few treats smoothed the request and minutes later he was watching the large barn owl fly off into the distance.

For the last few days, Regulus’ words had been replaying in his mind, increasing his guilt every time. But Sirius was nothing if not determined when it came to making things right with those he loved whom he had wronged.

‘Padfoot?’

He glanced over his shoulder and saw James making his way over. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Begging Regulus to take me back.’

Sirius didn’t miss the edge to his voice. ‘I’m sorry, mate.’

‘Not your fault.’

‘Yeah, it is.’

James sighed. ‘No, it’s not. I never should have told you. I’m so used to telling you everything. And I forget, sometimes, that Regulus hasn’t always been part of the Marauders. I think I just wish it so hard that what’s real and what’s wish blurs. But it was my mistake.’

‘He’ll forgive you.’

‘You sound confident.’

Sirius walked over and slung an arm around James’ shoulders. ‘I’m not in here because I wanted to bond with owls in the middle of the night.’

‘So why are you here?’

‘Now that, Jamie, is the best question you could have asked.’

Barty had tuned out most of Divination. He didn’t care about his final exam and he didn’t care for the new professor either. She was far too dramatic and seemed to think the tea leaves were actually talking to her.

His mind kept returning to Bellatrix. She had shown him Helga Hufflepuff’s ancient cup – now the Dark Lord’s horcrux. A piece of his soul.

‘He wants seven in total,’ she had told him after explaining what a horcrux was and how they were made. ‘The most auspicious magical number. He cannot be killed, Barty. His eternal empire will endure forever.’

She had seemed somewhat dreamy, almost hopeful at the prospect. But it had made Barty’s blood boil. An eternity of Tom Riddle meant he would never have Bellatrix. She had been bewitched by him, much as Barty had once been. But they did not need Tom Riddle to achieve their ends. To bring about the world they both wanted. Only the heir of Slytherin was necessary to inspire such a following amongst wizards. And Tom Riddle was no longer the only heir of Slytherin.

Tom Riddle was no longer the only heir of Slytherin.

Tom Riddle was no longer the only heir of Slytherin.

Tom Riddle was no longer the only heir of Slytherin.

The words went around and around in his mind, threatening him with madness and obsession. The future he wanted was suddenly so clear, so close. He could almost taste it.

Professor Giles dismissed the class but Barty was so preoccupied that he didn’t realise until most of the class had already gone. Giles waved to him on her way out, leaving him alone with Trelawney.

‘You are distracted, my boy.’ Trelawney tilted her head to the side. She reminded him of a great big bug.

‘Long day,’ he muttered, trying not to land himself in detention.

‘That’s not why.’

Rolling his eyes, Barty turned to leave.

‘He’s coming.’

‘Who’s coming?’

She didn’t answer and he glanced back, irritated. Trelawney had slumped in one of the bean bags by the window and looked slightly dazed.

‘Professor?’ He tried not to curse. The last thing he wanted to deal with was having to call Pomfrey for the new professor’s fainting spell.

‘The window is closing …’

He stared at her, realisation coming upon him slowly. Then stepped closer. She was not in a daze or faint, he realised – she was in a trance. He stilled in front of her as she gathered her breath, eyes moving rapidly – seeing that which he could not.

A vision of the future. For his ears alone.

Wales was cold.

Regulus, Remus, Evan and Barty had arrived in Cardiff by portkey. They had clustered in an alleyway to wait for Grindelwald, but even the walls of the buildings could not block out the cold entirely.

‘Regulus.’

Grindelwald stepped out of the shadows, catching them all by surprise, and made his way over. He wore a new, well-fitted suit and looked healthier than he had back in Hogsmeade. He had also acquired a wand.

‘Who’s this?’ asked Barty.

‘Troy,’ said Grindelwald, inclining his head.

‘He was married to my late cousin,’ said Evan succinctly. To Grindelwald he asked, ‘Did you find Greyback?’

‘I did indeed. He has extended an invitation to us all.’ Grindelwald smirked.

‘Excellent,’ said Barty.

Remus sent him a look that wished him nothing but ill.

Grindelwald extended a hand to Regulus. ‘Shall we?’

Regulus took his hand; Remus, Barty and Evan put their hands on his shoulders. The world around them vanished and they reappeared in a wooded area. Everyone but Regulus donned a black mask, but Regulus wanted to be seen. Wanted the Dark Lord to know he was there.

Grindelwald led them through the trees to a clearing. When they stepped out, Regulus saw a truly horrifying scene. Two hundred Muggles motionless and on their knees. They all seemed to be in a trance. At least fifty Death Eaters milled about, and, like their own small group, all but a handful wore masks to hide their identities. Doubtless there were Ministry officials amongst them who didn’t want to be identified should someone happen upon the scene. But one in particular drew his focus immediately.

‘Bella,’ he breathed.

‘Lestrange?’ whispered Remus.

‘Reggie!’ cried Bellatrix, saving him the trouble of answering. She skipped over and kissed him ecstatically on the cheek. ‘Oh, you came! The Dark Lord will be so pleased! And who are your friends?’

Regulus pointed to each in turn.

‘Which cousin?’ asked Bella when Evan repeated his lie to her.

‘I married Antionette before she passed last month,’ said Grindelwald without missing a beat.

Antionette Rosier had died under ‘mysterious circumstances’ according to The Daily Prophet, though Regulus harboured a bet it had been related to her activities as a Death Eater.

‘I didn’t know Antionette married,’ said Bella.

‘We had hoped to tell everyone before the Order of the Phoenix murdered her.’

‘Bastards,’ was Barty’s input.

Bella put her hand on Grindelwald’s arm. ‘My husband was murdered too. We will avenge her, cousin. I promise you.’

Regulus tried very hard not to get sick at the mention of Rodolphus.

‘Lestrange!’

The call came from a cluster of Death Eaters over by the treeline. Beckoning to Regulus and the others, Bella led the way over.

Remus nudged him. ‘How are we doing this?’ he hissed.

Regulus made a waiting gesture, but he too felt increasingly nervous. How on Earth were he, Remus, Evan and Grindelwald going to free two hundred Muggles under the nose of Death Eaters, many of whom were werewolves?

‘Ah, Troy,’ said a grisly, scarred figure who looked like he hadn’t bathed in months. He, too, wore no disguise.

‘Greyback.’

Remus went stiff all over.

Grindelwald gestured to the four students. ‘My cousin by marriage and three of his friends – new recruits for the Dark Lord.’

Greyback’s piercing eyes roved over them and Regulus felt a dizzying rush of relief that Remus and Evan both wore masks.

‘Welcome lads.’ Greyback leered two rows of blood-stained, yellowing teeth. ‘You may help us keep the rats from escaping. But all are to take the bite by night’s end.’

‘I’ve bet him ten Galleons he can’t,’ cut in Bella, gleeful bloodlust shining in her dark eyes.

Greyback chuckled low in his throat.

‘Do well tonight, boys,’ said Bella, ‘and you’ll all get the Dark Mark this summer.’

‘Is the Dark Lord coming tonight?’ asked Barty, brushing his hands nervously through his hair.

Bella put her arm around him and kissed his cheek. ‘Not tonight, darling.’ She leaned in close. ‘He’s gone to find Grindelwald.’

‘Oh?’ said Grindelwald cheerfully.

‘The Dark Lord thinks he’s left Germany,’ she continued conspiratorially. ‘He thinks Grindelwald’s in the UK.’

Regulus resolutely did not look at Grindelwald, who seemed to be valiantly reining in a snort.

‘To recruit him?’ asked Remus.

‘Or get rid of him if he aims to be a problem,’ said Regulus.

Grindelwald beamed at him from behind Bella’s shoulder.

‘Can I ask?’ Evan cut in, skilfully drawing everyone’s attention. ‘How are you going to bite them when it’s not the full moon?’

‘I no longer need the moon to transform,’ said Greyback vaguely.

‘Yeah, but how?’

‘Go,’ said Greyback, ignoring Evan’s question. ‘Take your places. Ensure no vermin escape.’

‘Barty.’ Bella still had her arm around him. ‘Walk with me.’

Regulus forced himself to let them go, and followed Grindelwald away from the Death Eaters. Evan and Remus fell in beside him.

‘What is your plan?’ he murmured.

Grindelwald moved closer. ‘When I attack, make sure Bellatrix sees you go to help her. I will get the captives out.’

Remus stopped short and put a hand on Grindelwald’s chest. ‘Why do you care?’

Evan glanced at Regulus, eyes widening. ‘Does he know?’ he mouthed soundlessly.

Regulus inclined his head a fraction of an inch and Evan blanched.

‘Do you not?’ Grindelwald was holding Remus’ scowl with a thoughtful, unruffled look of his own. ‘No witch or wizard should be forced into lycanthropy.’

‘I know who you are. I’m not an idiot. So, I ask again, why do you care?’

‘Perhaps half a century in prison gave me a chance to reevaluate my values. I am here to help Regulus. Are you?’

‘We can’t do this here,’ hissed Evan. ‘Leave it, Remus. He’s on our side and Barty is on his way over.’

This made all of them spread out.

Evan towed Remus away, speaking too low for Regulus to hear but hopefully reassuring him that Grindelwald was on their team.

Regulus’ eyes flicked to Grindelwald, all too aware of Barty making his way back over. ‘Promise me. I can’t have two hundred werewolves on my conscience.’

Grindelwald squeezed his shoulder. ‘I promise, little Black. This will work.’

Grindelwald left him just as Barty arrived.

Stomach churning, Regulus forced himself not to panic and smiled at Barty. ‘What did Bella want?’

‘It’s private,’ said Barty, voice clipped.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, but decided it wasn’t the moment to pry.

The hands on Regulus’ watch ticked to midnight and a quiet descended upon the clearing. The captives remained on their knees, locked in a magical trance.

Greyback stepped forward and held out his arms. ‘Welcome, my friends!’ His deep, gravelly voice thundered across the clearing. ‘Tonight we show Mudbloods where the real power resides. Tonight we make them fear to ever call themselves witches and wizards!’

A clamour went up and Regulus forced himself to join in, all too aware of Barty and Bella’s watchful gazes.

It was when the first Death Eater moved that it happened. Hedges shot out of the ground, six, seven feet high. As they thickened, nasty, vicious looking thorns burst out, in some places the thorns were over two feet long. Vines with large leaves slithered up from the ground then, strange smelling and snapping at the hands of all those who stepped near.

When one of the werewolves touched the leaves, he recoiled with a yelp of pain. ‘Enchanted wolfsbane!’

Greyback and the Death Eaters drew their wands.

And then, to Regulus’ absolute bewilderment, a familiar barking sounded from inside the trees. He turned, stunned, as Padfoot bounded out of the forest, several masked figures spilling out around him.

‘It’s the Order of the Phoenix!’ This, from Remus.

The cry was the final straw and the clearing descended into chaos.

Ignoring Sirius’ arrival – and whomever he had brought with him – Regulus ran straight for Bellatrix, who had just sent a blast at one of the new masked figures.

‘We’ve been betrayed,’ he said urgently. ‘Get word to the Dark Lord! Go! Now!’

Bella’s wild eyes flicked over the scene before she vanished.

‘Black!’

He turned to see Greyback and several others.

‘This way!’ Greyback beckoned to him.

Regulus tore after him as a Death Eater in a mask sent a spell over his head straight for one of the similarly masked arrivals. They ran into the woods. Somewhere to his left he heard Padfoot barking.

Spells shot dangerously in every direction, some hitting trees and exploding or uprooting them on impact. Splinters shot through the air, tearing at Regulus’ skin and clothes.

Greyback vanished in the trees, but he caught sight of Lucius when he’d skidded around a cluster of trees and came into a less dense area further down the hill; someone in a mask was pursuing him.

Cutting right, Regulus deflected a spell at his back and knocked the stranger unconscious.

‘Thank you!’ yelled Lucius, breathless and gripping a stitch in his side.

‘Get out of here! Tell the others! The Order of the Phoenix is here!’

Truth or lie, it got Lucius to Disapparate.

Regulus pulled up the stunned figure’s mask. ‘Mary,’ he whispered, astonished.

A figure in black skidded to the ground beside him. Before he could raise his wand, they yanked off their mask. It was Arthur.

‘What the fuck?’ hissed Regulus.

‘Go,’ said Arthur urgently. ‘I’ve got her. Make sure the others are out.’

A sudden scream wrenched through the trees, making them both freeze.

‘Go!’ Arthur pushed him away.

Regulus sprang to his feet and pelted through the trees.

The screams came again. Close. Familiar.

Regulus pivoted and ran towards the sound as fast as he could. More bodies shot past him – some he recognised as the dazed Muggleborn captives, freed now.

What he saw made his heart leap into his throat.

Greyback was pinning a witch to the ground. But it was no captive.

It was Lily Evans.

How. The. Fuck?

Regulus raised his wand. ‘Greyback,’ he called calmly. ‘She’s—’

‘She’s a Mudblood.’

‘She’s my schoolmate, Fenrir. Dumbledore will not let this lie.’

‘I’m not afraid of Dumbledore.’

Greyback lowered his blood-stained teeth to Lily’s neck.

‘Please!’ she screamed, struggling against him. ‘Regulus, help!’

It was that, he’d later realise, which propelled his next move. That, and the memory of what James had told him about Remus.

‘Avada Kedavra!’

Green light collided with Greyback and he fell sideways in a lifeless heap. Lily scrambled out from under him and Regulus shot to her side, helping her up.

‘Are you all right? Did he bite you?’

She ran a hand over her neck. ‘No – no, I think I’m fine.’

Regulus sagged in relief. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Sirius brought us to help.’

‘How—’

A snapping noise behind them made both whip around.

Barty stood five paces away.

Regulus instantly felt his throat seize and the urge to sob welled up, sudden, unbidden, uncontrollable. He could fight Greyback. He could kill Greyback. But Barty? A boy he’d known since he was eleven years old? A boy whose hand he’d held through break ups, bad grades and disappointed parents? No. Regulus could not hurt Barty.

He held up his free hand, which he realised was shaking. ‘Barty, p-please.’ He choked on the plea. ‘Please listen to me.’

Barty darted over, wand in hand. He didn’t seem bothered by the traitorous sight before him. ‘Did he bite her?’

‘No,’ said Lily tremulously.

‘Thank God.’

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. ‘Barty?’

A smile spread mischievously across Barty’s lips and he tilted his head to the side. Incongruous to Barty, but familiar. ‘I told you, little fox – I’ve always got your back.’

And then James seized him by the shirt and crashed his – Barty’s – lips against Regulus’ mouth. He tasted like coffee and cigarettes, the kind James smoked when he was stressed. And when he pulled back, he was grinning a grin as only James Potter could. No matter whose face he wore.

‘I’m going to need so much medication after this,’ moaned Lily, clutching a handful of copper hair back from her face, which was streaked with dirt, sweat and blood.

James laughed in grim agreement.

‘Where did you leave Barty?’

He thumbed back over his shoulder. ‘By the clearing. I came under the cloak. Knocked him out. Stole his hair. One of the Death Eaters will find him and take him home.’

‘Well done,’ said Lily.

‘We have to move,’ said Regulus. ‘Lily, where’s your wand?’

James held up his own wand, illuminating the ground and they searched for her wand, which she’d dropped when Greyback leapt on her.

While James and Lily searched for her wand, Regulus bent down over Greyback’s body.

Thinking quickly, he transfigured a branch into a knife and rotated it in his hand.

‘What are you doing?’ asked James, bending down beside him.

‘Saving Remus,’ he grunted, and sliced Greyback’s fingers off his left hand. Wrapping the fingers in a handkerchief, he tucked them into his pocket and then transfigured Greyback’s corpse into an identical branch.

‘Um,’ said James concernedly. ‘Ew. How does that help Remus?’

‘I found a cure.’

James was still gaping at him when Lily let out a cry of delight and held up her wand.

‘Let’s go,’ said Regulus, beckoning to them.

Running downhill at night through a forest wasn’t a great idea to begin with, but the distant shouts and spells made everything even more eerie.

‘Black!’

It was Grindelwald.

Regulus sprinted in the direction of his call and found Grindelwald, Evan and Remus. Padfoot barked at the sight of him, prompting the group to turn towards him, James and Lily.

‘Regulus!’ cried Remus, barrelling towards him and catching him in a bear hug. ‘Are you all right?’

Regulus leaned back and held his gaze. ‘I killed him.’

A hush fell over the group as everyone heard Regulus’ words, but he didn’t look at anyone but Remus. His hands came up to hold Remus’ face, wanting him to know. Wanting him to realise that the orchestrator of all his nightmares was gone.

‘I killed him,’ he said again. ‘For you.’

A ragged, strangled sound tore out of Remus and he pulled Regulus back into his arms.

‘Thank you.’ Remus pressed a kiss to the side of his head. ‘Thank you, Regulus.’

Only the knowledge that they were losing time forced Regulus to step away from him. Grindelwald led the way towards the portkey he’d created the day before. As they descended a woodsy hill, the lights of the nearby village dotting the view, he noticed that a strange green glow was changing the colour of everything below.

He turned around – and his breath caught. Someone had sent up the Dark Mark.

And where the Dark Mark blazed in the sky, the Dark Lord soon followed.

‘Run,’ he urged, seizing James by the collar and pushing him into a sprint.

Everyone else followed suit.

What had been a mad dash became a flat out run as the group followed Grindelwald towards the village. When they reached a field, he whipped his wand and summoned a bicycle tyre. Catching it, he turned towards the others, holding it out.

‘Grab hold.’

Sirius finally changed back from Padfoot, prompting a cry of surprise from Evan.

‘Tell anyone and die, Rosier,’ he said nastily.

Regulus shot him a look. ‘Hey. Play nice.’

‘I won’t tell anyone you’re a dog, Sirius,’ said Evan acidly. ‘And it’s hardly surprising given your general relationship with hygiene.’

Regulus snorted. Sirius shot him a glare, while Evan winked at him.

‘How long?’ asked Lily, apparently having been clued into Sirius’ secret somewhere along the way.

Grindelwald checked his watch. ‘Thirteen minutes.’

‘That’s twelve minutes too long,’ said Remus anxiously.

Behind them, the Dark Mark still blazed high above the forest. ‘Did everyone make it out alive?’ whispered Regulus.

‘I got the captives out,’ said Grindelwald. ‘I enchanted them to run.’

‘Well done,’ said Remus softly.

Regulus glanced at Lily. ‘Did you bring the Order?’

‘No.’ She let out an uncomfortable laugh. ‘Just … most of Gryffindor House.’

‘What?’ He looked sharply from her to Sirius.

‘Oh, calm down,’ said Sirius. ‘You were stupid going in alone. They distracted all the Death Eaters. Frank’s in charge of them. We left a portkey on the other side of the hill.’

‘You brought Frank?’ Regulus was close to strangling him.

‘Every person swore an oath of secrecy,’ said James softly. ‘No one will tell. We all wanted to stick it to the Death Eaters. Frank, Arthur, Mary, Alice, Marlene, Molly, Peter – everyone we trust, really. Sirius wrote to Pavo, who helped us track down the werewolves. That’s how we knew where to come. We just wanted to help. We wanted to save them, too.’

‘Pavo?’ Regulus stared at Sirius. ‘You know?’

Pavo Black was their cousin who’d been bitten by a werewolf some years back. Regulus had sent him money when he’d needed to escape their family. (Several of the more vile Black ancestors had boasted of hunting down werewolves.)

‘I figured it out.’ Sirius shrugged. ‘Only so many cousins who could be a werewolf. I wrote to him and he agreed to help us track down Greyback’s pack here in Wales. Apparently the werewolf underground is rather small.’

‘Go figure,’ added Remus.

Regulus exhaled heavily. ‘Everyone wore a mask?’

‘Everyone,’ said James and Sirius succinctly.

‘You’re sure they all got out?’

‘Once Troy got the captives to run, Arthur told them to take off,’ said Sirius. ‘Bella, Lucius and the werewolves had all taken off by that point and we didn’t come for a showdown. Just to help.’

It was awfully mature for him and Regulus felt a bit proud.

‘That’s when I got separated from Mary,’ added Lily.

‘You Gryffindors are insane.’ But in truth Regulus felt impossibly grateful.

The last few minutes to the portkey’s departure passed in tense silence, everyone staring up at the Dark Mark and wondering.

Barty awoke to someone gently calling his name. He squinted, the nighttime making it difficult to see who was kneeling above him. Then he realised. It was the Dark Lord.

Stunned, Barty took his outstretched hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. ‘My lord,’ he said in surprise.

‘Barty!’ Bella’s shrill cry cut off the Dark Lord’s reply and she raced over and threw her arms around him. ‘You’re all right!’

Barty held her only a moment before forcing himself to let her go. He knew the Dark Lord missed nothing, and he was not about to let his feelings be read.

‘The Order of the Phoenix attacked,’ he relayed. ‘Someone knocked me out from behind.’

‘We have a spy amongst us,’ said the Dark Lord, thoughtful. ‘Come, Barty. We must gather the others and leave before the Aurors arrive.’

Barty helped Bellatrix gather up the others while the Dark Lord assessed the scene. He went over to the wall of enchanted, demented wolfsbane.

‘It took great power to create this,’ he mused aloud. ‘Only a truly skilled wizard could have.’

‘Do you think Dumbledore was here?’ asked Bella.

The Dark Lord shook his head. ‘No. This is not his work. But I know the feeling of this magic. I have felt it before.’

‘From whom?’ Barty asked the question this time.

‘Grindelwald.’

Back in Hogsmeade, clustered in Regulus’ house, the two groups met up. Regulus was shocked to suddenly be including so many Gryffindors in his plan, but he had to admit it was nice to see so many people ready to help him.

After several cups of tea, Frank, Alice, Arthur, Molly, Mary and Lily bade them goodnight and headed back to Hogwarts to catch a few hours of sleep before breakfast. Evan, James, Remus, Sirius, Peter and Marlene all lingered, talking in low tones.

Still reeling from the night, Regulus found himself standing by the window, glaring up at the half-moon, a beer forgotten in one hand.

‘You did what you had to do,’ said Grindelwald, appearing at his side.

Regulus bobbed his head slowly. ‘Do you think that will save my soul? Seventeen years old and I’ve already killed two people. I think only Tom Riddle has that beat.’

Grindelwald put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Fenrir Greyback was a mass murderer who enjoyed turning innocents into werewolves to amuse himself. I have it on good authority he’s a rapist, too. What you did tonight was valiant. Lily will do great things. Fenrir only revelled in bloodshed.’

‘He’s right.’

Regulus and Grindelwald glanced over at Sirius, who was watching them with a shrewd expression, joint halfway to his lips.

‘He’s right,’ Sirius continued, voice fierce and brokering no room for argument. ‘You didn’t condemn your soul by killing him. You did the right thing.’

Regulus tried, and failed, to summon a smile. But he felt oddly better.

Shortly thereafter everyone called it a night and Regulus bade Grindelwald, Leta, Kreacher and Nori goodnight before following the other students out of the house.

At the end of the path, waiting by the front gate, Evan, James, Sirius and Remus lingered. Peter and Marlene walked on ahead, hand in hand. The effects of the Polyjuice potion had worn off and James looked like James again. Once again the most beautiful thing Regulus had ever laid eyes upon.

The group walked in silence back through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. Dawn was beginning to brighten the sky, hinting at a clear, cloudless day.

Halfway down the road, Regulus reached out, nudging James’ hand with his own. James opened his hand, immediately threading their fingers together. Being near him again, touching him, overwhelmed all other thought and Regulus felt unexpectedly at peace as they snuck back into Hogwarts.

Coming out in a thankfully empty corridor inside the castle fifteen minutes later – they had to wait a few minutes, staring at the enchanted map, for Peeves to go away – the Marauders bade each other goodnight – though it was technically morning – and everyone went their separate ways. James, however, lingered beside him.

‘Can I walk you to the Room of Requirement?’ he asked tentatively.

Regulus appraised him. ‘Why did you come tonight?’

‘Because I love you.’

Regulus weighed these words against his anger and his pride and his frustration. In the end, how much or how little James’ apologies were worth came down to whether or not he was willing to meet him halfway and accept his apologies as genuinely given. And it was difficult to be angry at him and Sirius after they’d shown up to help.

‘Coming second to him is never something I’m going to be all right with,’ he said bluntly. ‘It’s an issue, but it’s one I’ve got. I’ve come second to him my whole life. If you’re with me, I come first. Promises to me come first.’

James moved closer. ‘You come first.’

‘This is your only second chance.’

‘I’ll take it.’

And then James was kissing him and nothing else mattered to Regulus but never letting him go again.

Chapter Text

Barty couldn’t sleep. He kept dissecting Professor Trelawney’s prophecy in his mind. He wanted to talk it over with someone, but he wasn’t sure who to go to that was trustworthy and who wouldn’t immediately betray him. Either to the Order of the Phoenix or to the Dark Lord.

Barty had never felt so alone in his entire life.

He looked down at the letter Bellatrix had sent him that morning. She was in Wales with the Dark Lord, searching for signs of Grindelwald. Barty couldn’t help but wonder if it was Grindelwald himself who had knocked him out in the clearing, but that seemed unlikely. Grindelwald would surely have used magic. But it struck Barty as strange that he’d appeared at a Death Eater event to save Muggle-borns. Why?

Rolling over in bed, he stared at Regulus’ empty four-poster. Despite all that had happened, Regulus remained on the other side of the castle. It frustrated Barty. He regretted being so cruel knowing now that he’d got it wrong and he wished often for a Time Turner to go back and restructure everything.

Only a week before the falling out the previous year, he, Evan and Barty had been closer than ever. He’d even thought, passingly, that Evan had fancied Regulus. The idea hadn’t bothered Barty much initially. Pureblood families ought to stick together and he’d never given much thought to who did what with whom, so long as they didn’t bring Muggles into their business. Though, in truth, he’d been bitterly jealous at the idea of them spending more time with each other than with him. But then Evan had seen Regulus with the Muggle boy and his fury had assured Barty that he’d got it wrong. That Evan hadn’t been in love with Regulus, but Regulus had been lying to them for years about his feelings towards romantic entanglements with Muggles. Except that hadn’t been true, either, in the end. It was Barty and Evan who got it wrong and now the three of them were forever adrift. Barty missed the closeness more than he’d ever admit.

He raised Bellatrix’s latest letter up, catching some of the moonlight that streamed in through the window above.

Barty,

Thank you for the potions – the morning sickness is gone and I’m free to accompany him everywhere and I think he’s more keen now that I’m back in top form. So thank you. Truly. There’s been no sign yet of Grindelwald, but it seems like he’s lying low for everyone. No one in the Ministry of Magic has seen hide nor hair of him, either. Lucius is rising high in the ranks and from what he’s telling us, everyone’s afraid Grindelwald is joining us. I don’t think he is. Neither does Tom. No, something else is afoot.

I’ll be coming back to London this weekend if you want to meet me? If you can get away on Saturday, let me know. I can even meet you in Hogsmeade!

Love,
Bella x

Grinding his teeth together, Barty refolded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. He knew he ought to burn them, but he’d never been able to burn or throw away a single one of Bella’s letters simply for safety’s sake. Yet he collected them like love notes, despite all containing admiration for a man who was not him.

Officially giving up on sleep, Barty got out of bed, donned his robes, and slipped out of the dormitory. The corridor was draughty and he shivered as he headed towards the common room.

To his surprise, the Bloody Baron was in the common room, staring at the fire in the chimney. He looked over at Barty and bowed his head. The move made the blood-stained chains around his neck rattle.

‘It’s late,’ the ancient ghost croaked.

‘Can’t sleep,’ said Barty.

‘Why ever not?’

Barty sighed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘The woman I love is in love with someone else. She’s having his child. But he doesn’t appreciate her. Doesn’t see how powerful she is. Doesn’t return her affection at all. And yet she loves him.’ His lip curled into a bitter sneer. ‘So I keep asking myself why. Why? I’m the one who helps her. I’m the one who wants to make her more powerful than she can imagine. I’m the one who realises that her child—’ He bit off his words, furious and frustrated and so irrevocably in love with Bellatrix that he was heartsick.

The Bloody Baron drifted over to him. ‘Her child?’

‘It’s …’ Barty eyed him shrewdly. A sudden thought struck him. One that should have occurred to him long before. ‘Hang on, you were taught by Slytherin himself, weren’t you?’

This question made a rare smile grace the ghost’s lips. ‘I was.’

‘Did you like him?’

‘He was the most powerful wizard I have ever met. He shaped the world for generations to come. Do you have any idea how rare that is? How few are great enough to steer the world posthumously? Yes, I liked him. Loved him. More precisely, I respected him more than I could ever convey to someone who did not meet him.’

The reverence with which he spoke tugged at something deep inside Barty’s soul he’d long wrestled with. ‘What was his true vision? Has anyone ever asked you that?’

The Bloody Baron nodded approvingly at this question. ‘Tom Riddle asked me that once. A gifted boy, for a dirty blood.’

Barty raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s no pureblood.’ The Bloody Baron scoffed at the idea. ‘His mother was a squib and his father was Muggle scum.’

Now this was news to Barty. Bella told him everything, but he doubted even she knew this much. ‘What?’

‘Oh, yes.’ The Bloody Baron bowed his head gravely. ‘He tried hard to keep it quiet, of course, but a few students found out when he was a student here. Taunted him. Spread rumours. He was popular enough that those who heard the rumours doubted them. Eventually everyone chalked it up to malicious gossip.’

‘And what became of those who spread the rumours?’

‘Well.’ The Bloody Baron smirked. ‘I believe they vanished.’

‘Interesting.’ Barty rubbed his jaw roughly. ‘What do you think of the Blacks?’

‘Old family. Generally good breeding. Powerful wizards.’

‘Does their relationship with Gryffindors bother you?’

‘It never bothered Salazar.’

‘No?’

The Bloody Baron seemed to find this question rather amusing. ‘There was no one Salazar loved more in all the world than Godric Gryffindor. It was an open secret at the time and no one in the Wizarding World minded much in those days. They were married in the eyes of most, though they never officiated anything. They were a powerful, brilliant pair. Alone they were stunning, together they could have halted entire armies in their tracks. Back then, witches and wizards were more accepting of those things than the Muggles. We were above that before we let their ways infect us. In fact, it was some of the Muggle parents of the first Gryffindor students who openly derided Salazar and Godric’s relationship – moved by their Muggle superstitions and fears. They turned Godric against him over time.’

Barty moved to sit on the edge of the sofa, utterly intrigued by the Baron’s stories. ‘What happened after that?’

‘Godric issued Salazar an ultimatum some time later, after the resentment had taken seed and they’d openly fought in front of the students several times. When Salazar refused to back down where it concerned Muggles, Godric told him to go. And so he did. I was a lecturer by then. I was there the day he left the castle. I taught Alchemy – which was much different in those days.’

‘I’ll bet.’ Barty mulled this over. ‘But Salazar came back? To the castle?’

‘He did. Godric reached out to him some years later, once he’d come to realise that he’d made a mistake. Salazar had gone abroad. Somewhere in the jungle – I’ll have to think on where. It escapes me currently. He did come back after Godric begged to be heard out. But I don’t know if he ever wholly forgave Godric for telling him to leave in the first place. For choosing Muggles over him. It rankled Salazar to the end of his days. A proud, devoted, obsessive man, he expected everyone to be equally as standfast in their beliefs. I think Godric let him down by changing so much.’

‘That’s sad.’

‘It is. The Chamber of Secrets, I believe, was his petty parting gift from the schism and one he never bothered to get rid of. It was stupid, especially because basilisks will attack purebloods, too. And it’s not right to leave any creature locked up in a school. Certainly not for centuries. But I think his frustration at the school stemmed directly from the sting of Godric’s rejection.’

‘I read once that the first students in Slytherin House were all Parselmouths. My father said that was a myth made up by pureblood fanatics.’

‘There’s a great deal made up by fanatics, but that is not one of them.’

‘Are you?’

‘I am.’

Barty’s chest ached with jealousy. ‘Why can so few now do it? Is it because of bloodline contamination? Voldemort implied that.’

‘Partly. And partly because after Godric died, Rowena and Helga worked hard to ban it being taught. It’s always been innate to some, but like all magicks, it can be awakened in others. Salazar was born with his gift, but he invented an elixir made with the blood of basilisks, horned serpents, ashwinders – which only live for an hour – and runespoors; also, chimeras, chameleons, phoenixes, mermaids. Even human blood. His, I believe.’

Barty’s lip curled. It sounded revolting. ‘How vampiric of him.’

‘Yes. But very effective. So much magical blood brought together makes great, enduring changes to a wizard. Each added bloodline, with far more blood taken from snakes, created an elixir that transformed the wizard into one who could communicate with snakes across breeds. I’m sure if you tweaked it, you could use it to speak to other animals, though he never tried.’

This made Barty’s heart race with excitement. ‘Do you think Salazar would have approved of Tom Riddle claiming to be his heir?’

The Bloody Baron scoffed at the suggestion, much to Barty’s surprise. ‘Not likely. Though you couldn’t tell that boy the truth. He lived – and I’m sure still lives – in his own world where he’s the true heir of a great man. He’s not. He’s an aberration in a long line of otherwise pureblood descendants. There’s a reason the Gaunts kicked out his mother.’

‘She was a Gaunt?’ That made sense. Barty had wondered about the exact lineage of the Dark Lord for some time, but none of the Death Eaters had seemed to know for sure. Riddle’s history in Slytherin House had always been proof enough and questioning the Dark Lord was something none of them had ever done together.

‘A Gaunt and a Riddle,’ said the Baron.

‘So was Salazar’s initial goal to take over Hogwarts – or take over the Wizarding World?’

‘Hogwarts has always been a stronghold of the future of magic in Great Britain in some sense. It was envisioned as a safe haven for witches and wizards on the isles when so few other places were safe in those days. But when the other founders began letting in Muggles, things changed. The rules changed. The standards changed. The laws changed. It wasn’t merely allowing their children in to join ours – no, we became more like them, too. And what do you think their less than open-minded neighbours did when they learned about the younglings with strange, magical powers returning from obscure schooling in a place no Muggle had heard of and which sounded like a centre for the supernatural and demonic?’

‘Witch hunts?’

‘Witch hunts.’

Barty cursed.

‘Salazar wanted to keep Hogwarts as a safe haven for our children. He wanted to help witches and wizards rise in Muggle society to help reverse the direction it was going. He wanted to lead them, to show them a better way to be.’

‘That’s what I want,’ said Barty earnestly. ‘But Riddle doesn’t want to steer Muggles to enlightenment and grow wizarding society. It seems like he only wants to stick it to Dumbledore and take over Hogwarts. Which isn’t what the heir of Slytherin should be doing. The heir of Slytherin should be restructuring the world.’

‘I agree. As I said, Tom Riddle is not the one to execute Salazar’s vision.’

Barty couldn’t agree more. He frowned suddenly. ‘You know, you’ve never told me your name.’

‘You’ve never asked.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Waltheof Gruffydd. Waldo to some, Walt to others.’

Barty’s lips twitched. ‘Waldo? Really?’

The Baron arched a translucent eyebrow. ‘Your name is “Barty”.’

‘Fair.’ Barty chuckled. When he’d loved his father, he’d been honoured by the name. But that had been a long, long time ago. ‘Do you prefer Walt or Waldo?’

‘Walt.’

‘Walt. All right.’ Barty nodded, the plan growing in his mind as he turned over everything the Baron had just told him. ‘You might be just the perfect man to help me, Walt.’

‘Is that right?’ Walt floated closer. ‘How so?’

Barty cast a silencing charm upon the common room and finally, finally shared the words of Professor Trelawney’s prophecy with someone else.

The morning’s Daily Prophet made no mention of Greyback or the incident in the forest, though it did note that the Dark Mark had been seen north of Cardiff. No bodies of any kind had been found and authorities and Aurors seemed stumped.

Regulus had just set the paper aside when a large, unfamiliar owl dropped a letter beside his plate. He recognised Bellatrix’s handwriting immediately.

‘Wait until after coffee,’ advised James.

‘No point,’ he muttered, ripping it open. ‘I’m going to feel ill regardless of when I read it.’

Cousin,

I pass along the Dark Lord’s commendations. Though the outcome was not as we’d hoped, it was good to see you, Evan, Barty and Remus. I like Troy. You’ll have to tell me how he and Antionette met! I miss her.

What has become of James Potter? If he’s broken your heart, I’m happy to have a chat with him.

Love,
Bella x

‘That’s ominous,’ said Sirius, reading over his shoulder.

Regulus nodded grimly and tucked it back into the envelope.

‘What’s ominous?’ asked James from across the table, sausage roll halfway to his mouth.

‘Bella offered to have a chat with you about breaking my heart,’ said Regulus. ‘Fancy meeting her?’

James grimaced. ‘I’m good.’

‘Figured.’

‘Write to her and tell her that I’ve begged your forgiveness and recognise you as my Prince Charming and there will never be another time I’m not at your side.’ James winked at him before jamming the sausage roll into his mouth with spectacular gusto.

‘Word for word,’ said Sirius sagely.

Regulus chuckled. ‘Yes, I’ll get right on that.’

The Forbidden Forest was always frightening – at night or during the day – but Barty felt less worried walking beside Walt. They’d been talking nonstop since the encounter in the common room, both delighted to at last have someone who shared the same view and the same desire for the future. Centuries between them and yet Barty had never felt so heard.

They had been venturing into the heart of the forest for over an hour, but other than a few scowling centaurs and one wary fox, had encountered no trouble.

‘There,’ said Walt at last, stilling beside him and nodding ahead at a giant hill between the trees that looked somewhat out of place in the otherwise flat forest. Like someone had dumped a large amount of dirt on the ground at some point and the forest had simply grown over it.

‘The mound?’

‘Raise up the grass and dirt.’

Slightly dubious, Barty raised his wand. ‘Forderentum.’

As if the ground was a blanket made of dirt and roots and grasses and rocks, it rolled away from what turned out to be a large white – somewhat dirty – tomb. Sending the carpet of earth into the trees, Barty approached the tomb, the Bloody Baron beside him.

‘Repeat after me,’ said Walt, chains jingling as he turned his head. The hiss that left him was nonsensical to Barty and he felt his face grow red.

‘One more time?’

Walt said the phrase again in Parseltongue.

Trying not to feel furious at his lack of natural ability, Barty winced. ‘Slower, please,’ he ground out.

Walt repeated the strange series of hissing, rasping sounds. Barty repeated it as best he could.

Nothing happened.

He repeated it again. Then a fourth time. Then a fifth. A sixth. On the seventh try, the tomb finally groaned open.

Mouth dry, face glistening with perspiration, Barty pumped his fist back in elation. ‘I did it.’

‘Well done,’ said Walt approvingly. ‘Parseltongue is difficult on the first try. You did well.’

Barty smiled gratefully. It felt good to know that someone who had worked with and learned from Salazar Slytherin himself – someone who had seen years of students come and go – saw him and didn’t dismiss Barty immediately. The Bloody Baron was, if Barty was honest with himself, a better mentor in the few days they’d been talking, than Tom Riddle had been in the years Barty had followed him. Written to him. Taken his advice. Barty felt foolish about his unquestioning allegiance to Voldemort now. But he didn’t feel foolish trusting Walt.

Inside Salazar Slytherin’s ancient tomb, the air was heavy and stale, and smelled like the heart of the earth. In the centre of the tomb was a large coffin; several things in urns and vases had been placed around the room.

‘Don’t disturb those,’ advised Walt.

Barty moved carefully around the urns as he made his way towards the coffin. ‘Wasn’t planning on it.’

‘Here.’ Walt had stopped in front of a large box around the far side of the coffin. ‘It also needs Parseltongue. His daughter – he married when he left the castle initially – sealed it after he died.’

‘What was her name?’

‘That one? Edwina. He had several daughters. Some were killed. Others went abroad. Edwina came to the castle when he reunited with Godric and stayed to teach. She was close to Helena.’ A strange melancholy gripped the Bloody Baron as he said Helena’s name, though Barty did not know why. He knew she was Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter, but knew little else.

He was sorely regretting not speaking to Walt until his final year. The sheer amount of knowledge Walt had was staggering. But he, like everyone else, had been put off by the blood stains and the wails and the general demeanour of discontent.

Walt said another phrase in Parseltongue. This time it only took Barty three tries to get it right.

With a puff of dust, the lid of the box opened. Barty pushed it aside and peered inside. There was a wand, a large jar of green-black liquid, and a sword.

Barty glanced at Walt. ‘You didn’t mention a sword.’

‘Everyone back then had a sword. Godric, Rowena, Helga. Some wore them ornamentally. Others wore them to fight. Swords weren’t rare.’

Having grown up around precisely zero swords, Barty found them highly rare. And definitely cool. ‘Did Salazar fight?’

‘He and Godric used to spar beside the lake.’

Barty lifted out the heavy sword and drew it from its scabbard. Sapphires, emeralds and rubies adorned the hilt. A serpent was engraved in the metal, which glinted in the light from his wand.

‘It’s beautiful,’ he breathed, enchanted. ‘Did you never show this tomb to anyone?’

‘No one ever asked.’ Walt shrugged. ‘Riddle wanted to be more than Salazar. Wanted to be better than him. He never wanted to preserve his memory. His deeds.’

‘I do,’ said Barty fiercely.

‘I know.’ Walt offered a rare smile. ‘That’s why I’m telling you. All others were searching for the heir of Slytherin for their own glory. Not for his. Not for wizards and witches in general.’

Barty buckled the scabbard around his waist before returning his attention to the wand and the jar. He pocketed the wand, which felt powerful, and then raised up the jar. ‘This it?’

‘That’s it.’

‘You’re sure it works?’

‘Godric Gryffindor used it.’

Barty fully rotated to face him, utterly astonished by this latest bit of information. ‘What?’

‘I told you – they were as good as married.’ Walt shrugged. The move rattled his chains eerily. ‘He first made a ring for Godric to wear. When Godric threw it into the lake, it was lost. Later, after Salazar returned, he created more elixir for Godric.’

‘I’m never going to believe a single textbook ever again,’ Barty muttered furiously. ‘Hang on.’ He looked back down at the sword, a memory stirring from just the other morning in class. The style of serpent on the sword was the exact same as the serpent on the ring Regulus had started wearing after Christmas. ‘I know who has the ring.’

‘You do?’

Barty nodded. ‘Regulus Black.’

‘That is interesting.’

Barty stowed that revelation into the back of his mind for later and returned his attention to the elixir in his hand. ‘Do I drink it?’

‘Only a sip. That’s all that’s needed. And I don’t know how to make more.’

‘Now or never, I suppose.’ Barty opened the jar, decided that smelling it would probably turn him off the idea forever, and drank a single sip before quickly recapping it.

It was vile and he gagged and choked instantly.

‘Don’t spit it out!’ cried Walt. ‘Force it down!’

Barty managed to swallow it all, but barely. His vision went green just as his throat and stomach – the very blood in his veins – burned with poison. His legs buckled and the scream of pain slipped from between his clenched teeth.

‘Breathe,’ said Walt calmingly. ‘In through your nose, out through your mouth.’

A minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty.

When Barty finally managed to gather his composure, he’d been on his hands and knees in the tomb for over an hour. Wiping his mouth with a shaking hand, he looked up at Walt and nodded.

‘Did it work?’ Walt asked the question in Parseltongue.

A slow, dark smile spread across Barty’s potion-stained lips. ‘It worked,’ he rasped in Parseltongue.

The Bloody Baron returned his smile with a wicked one of his own.

The end of March brought more essays, more tests, more matches, and more bad news from abroad. Reports of Death Eater rallies, strange deaths, disappearances, new laws, new ordinances, new protocols – it was like the bad news was playing on fast-forward on a Muggle VHS tape. One bad thing after another. The lone bright spot was James and Remus’ looming birthday celebration, which they’d pushed back to April, though technically their birthdays were in March. (Regulus had a feeling James had cancelled his birthday when they’d broken up, though James refused to confirm it.)

Kreacher returned to say that the Dark Lord had come by. He hadn’t stayed long, but he’d wanted Walburga’s opinion on something. Both of them had locked themselves away and spoken in hushed tones. But Kreacher could hide in the walls of the house and had heard every word.

‘It might be another horcrux,’ said Grindelwald after Kreacher finished speaking.

‘That would make at least two horcruxes,’ said Leta, drawing their attention. ‘But if death is how you sever your soul to form them, he could have hundreds.’

Grindelwald shook his head. ‘Each one takes more from him. I do not think it is limitless.’

‘Ten?’ guessed Regulus.

‘Possibly.’

Regulus glanced from Kreacher to Nori to Leta to Grindelwald, rubbing his jaw roughly as he thought it over. ‘I wonder if he has a lucky number. He seems like he would. He’s always given me superstitious vibes.’

‘That would not surprise me in the least.’ Grindelwald took off his reading glasses to clean them – Nori had picked him up a pair in Hogsmeade the previous week when he’d started getting headaches whilst researching.

‘We need to know what he wanted Walburga’s advice on,’ said Leta.

‘A ring,’ said Kreacher.

Everyone looked at him.

Kreacher smiled mischievously. ‘Kreacher followed the Dark Lord. Kreacher saw him examining a ring before going into a house. An old house. It’s in some of our paintings at home. An ancient wizarding home, but Kreacher isn’t sure which.’

Regulus snatched up a piece of parchment and a quill. ‘Can you draw it?’

‘Yes.’

Regulus grinned at him. ‘Have I mentioned you’re the best?’

Kreacher’s cheeks reddened.

Regulus watched him sketch, toying with Slytherin’s ring on his forefinger. ‘The only family with legitimate claims to Slytherin’s lineage – at least in Britain – are the Gaunts. But they fell into poverty and disrepute some generations back. It’s been decades since a Gaunt attended Hogwarts. No one’s seen them in years. My mother loved to gossip about them. Everyone did. But an ancient wizarding home that he’s going to that Kreacher doesn’t know? I feel like that could only be the Gaunts.’

‘I think the last one is still alive in Azkaban,’ said Leta, frowning. ‘I think. Or, no, wait – he may have died. Sorry.’

‘It’s been a long time,’ said Grindelwald understandingly.

Regulus glanced at Grindelwald. ‘Do you want to go check out their house? See if anyone’s run into Riddle?’ Summoning a map, he grabbed a quill and circled the town after a moment’s searching. ‘I think they lived here.’

By this time Kreacher had finished drawing the ring and placed it beside the map.

Grindelwald’s breath caught. ‘The Deathly Hallows,’ he breathed. ‘It can’t be.’

Regulus’ eyes flicked up to Grindelwald. ‘The what?’

‘A legend. Ancient. One I chased to my own destruction.’

‘What do the Deathly Hallows do?’

Grindelwald ran a hand over his mouth, unable to look away from the ring. ‘Items that were said to have been gifted to wizards by Death himself. There was an invisibility cloak. A resurrection stone to bring back the dead. And a wand more powerful than any other. Albus has the wand. He won it from me in a duel before I was imprisoned.’

‘So, not the most powerful, then,’ said Leta dryly.

‘Death’s also not a person,’ said Kreacher.

‘Albus is the better wizard,’ said Grindelwald simply. ‘That is no fault of the wand. And it’s a story, not a literal fact. I assume they were forged by powerful wizards and the Death legend grew around them. Either way, they work. It’s said that all of them together create a Master of Death.’

‘Oh, good grief,’ said Leta. ‘Why is everyone trying to cheat death?’

‘It frightens many, I suppose.’

Regulus nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, I know who has the cloak.’

‘How?’ asked Grindelwald. ‘Who?’

Regulus cocked an eyebrow. ‘Does that matter? We’re not hunting the Deathly Hallows and their myths. We’re hunting Tom Riddle. Right?’

‘Right,’ said Leta.

‘Grindelwald?’ Regulus leaned down, forcing the older wizard to meet his gaze. ‘Are you with me on this or do I need to go myself?’

Grindelwald exhaled with forced calm. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘No, I’m fine. It’s an old obsession and one I no longer carry. Cheating death leads to a darkness that cannot be shed. Let Albus and your friend keep the Hallows. If this is a horcrux, we’ll destroy it.’

‘You’re not tempted?’

‘No,’ said Grindelwald, more firmly. ‘I’m good.’

Seeing no lie in his wise eyes, Regulus nodded. ‘All right. Be sure not to touch it, either. The diary felt unclean.’

‘Yes, it’s likely cursed,’ said Grindelwald, nodding to himself as he looked from sketch to map. ‘Yes, I’ll go look. Perhaps the Gaunts can tell us something. And if no one’s there, perhaps Tom was kind enough to leave us his soul.’

‘Let’s hope,’ said Regulus. ‘Kreacher, will you go with him?’

Kreacher bobbed his head. ‘Kreacher will not leave his side for a second!’

They went over everything for another hour before Grindelwald and Kreacher left to find the Gaunt house.

‘I’ve decided what to get you for your birthday.’ Regulus appeared at Remus’ side later that evening in the library, an unusually bright grin on his face. ‘But you can only say yes or no.’

Glad of the excuse to procrastinate his essay, Remus set his quill down. ‘I think Sirius has claimed my entire weekend.’

‘Then give me your Monday. Yes or no?’

‘It’s not expensive, is it?’

Regulus ruffled his hair. ‘Yes or no, Moony?’

Bursting into laughter at his incongruous behaviour, Remus bobbed his head. ‘Fine, yes. You can have my Monday. But only if you promise to come to the party.’

‘James would never forgive me if I didn’t.’

‘Yes, he would. But I still want you there.’

Regulus inclined his head. ‘Deal, Lupin.’

Two days later – wherein Gryffindor played Slytherin and Regulus caught the snitch two minutes into the match, much to James and Sirius’ fond dismay – news from Germany revealed that Dumbledore and dozens of aurors – and likely Order of the Phoenix members – had confronted Lord Voldemort and a group of Death Eaters at a rally. Thirty witches and wizards were dead. Voldemort, however, had vanished from the battle and survived.

Grindelwald returned with news that the Gaunts were all dead. He had found the ring, too. Careful not to touch it, he’d brought it back in a charmed glass case. This case now rested on the table in Regulus’ kitchen, the ring floating menacingly within.

All of them could hear it whispering.

‘Definitely a horcrux,’ said Regulus after staring at it for a minute.

‘Agreed,’ said Grindelwald. ‘But I don’t believe this is the one the Dark Lord wanted Kreacher’s help with. It was simply under a few dark curses. No house elf magic was required.’

Regulus sucked his teeth sharply. ‘Right. Well, we have to destroy the two we have immediately.’

‘Agreed.’

‘There’s just one problem.’

‘Albus?’

Regulus nodded. ‘We’ll have to tell Dumbledore what the diary is to get it back. Which will lead him directly to you because the book I used to learn about horcruxes is in German. It’s literally from Durmstrang with library check-out stamps. He will figure out it was me who broke you out of prison in less than thirty seconds when he sees it.’

‘You’re right.’

‘What are the chances you could get the diary out of his office without him realising it?’ asked Leta.

‘Not high,’ said Grindelwald. ‘But if we destroy both horcruxes, Albus will forgive us eventually.’

Regulus was more or less counting on that.

‘Leave the diary to me. Let’s destroy this one first. Each piece weakens Riddle. Each piece gets us closer to killing him.’

Both drew their wands. Leta floated a few paces back. Nori and Kreacher opened the cupboard door and hid behind it.

‘Avada Kedavra!’ Regulus and Grindelwald shouted in unison.

Green light burst from their wands, illuminating the entire kitchen. The ring exploded and a great force burst out, knocking into Regulus and Grindelwald and causing both to stumble back. Grindelwald caught Regulus, steadying him.

‘That,’ Grindelwald panted, ‘was definitely a horcrux.’

Regulus lowered his wand, his hand trembling slightly. ‘One down.’

From behind the cupboard door, Nori gave a little cheer.

On Monday, Regulus met Remus in the corridor outside the Room of Requirement. Slinging an arm around his shoulders, Regulus declared it ‘Remus Day’ before steering him towards the nearest secret passageway out of the castle.

After treating Remus to lunch in the village, Regulus brought him back to the house. Grindelwald was out back gardening with Nori and Leta and waved to them, but didn’t come inside.

Regulus gestured for Remus to sit before heaving Abernathy’s Accounts of Atrocious Ailments out of his bag. ‘So,’ he said, taking a seat. ‘I’ve been waiting until I was sure I could even do it. I didn’t want to get your hopes up. But I got the most difficult – most impossible – ingredient recently and I think it’s doable now.’

Remus’ lips twitched in surprise. ‘What’s doable?’

Inhaling deeply and trying to steady himself, Regulus tapped the book’s cover. ‘Before I show you this, I want you to know that I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. If you want to throw this book into the fire, I’ll help you.’

‘You’re worrying me now.’

‘Nothing to worry about,’ Regulus promised him. ‘I just want you to know that I’m giving this to you because I love you. Not because there’s anything I think needs changing.’

Remus looked bemused, but his expression softened at Regulus’ words. ‘I love you, too,’ he replied with a fond laugh. ‘Now, enough build up. Show me.’

Regulus opened the book to the page and turned it around. ‘I found a cure for lycanthropy.’

Remus stared at him for several moments before looking down at the book. ‘Are – are you sure?’

‘I’m sure.’ Regulus put a hand on his arm. ‘Is that all right? I don’t want you to think I mean anything by it, I just—’

Remus was out of his chair and wrapping his arms around Regulus before he could even finish his sentence. ‘Thank you,’ he said into Regulus’ ear. ‘Thank you.’

Neither of them moved for a long while after, and when they finally stepped apart, Regulus was not the only one with watery eyes.

Remus reached up to cup his face. ‘You’ve given me a future, Regulus,’ he said, and the tears fell from his eyes. ‘One this world would never have given me.’

‘You know that I think you’re perfect either way?’ Regulus felt sick at the thought that he might doubt it. ‘Werewolf or not.’

‘And that, little star, is why I love you.’

Remus tracked Sirius down to the Quidditch field later that night. He felt like he could fly just standing on the grass.

Sirius flew down, landing with remarkable grace and dismounted his broom without missing a step. He jogged the last few paces and kissed Remus soundly.

‘What was my brother’s surprise?’ he asked when he’d pulled back. He wiggled his eyebrows. ‘He’s not stealing you away from me, is he?’

Remus chuckled. ‘Quite the contrary. He’s just ensured that you and I have a future.’

‘What do you mean?’

Taking him by the hand, Remus led him out of earshot of the other players. In the relative safety beneath the stands, he whispered, ‘Regulus found a cure.’

Sirius searched his face. ‘A cure for what?’

Remus pointed to himself. ‘Moony.’

‘What?’

Quickly recounting everything, Remus took Abernathy’s Accounts of Atrocious Ailments out of his bag and showed the potion to Sirius. ‘He found the book in Durmstrang but didn’t think there was any point in telling me until what happened in Wales.’

‘Greyback,’ mouthed Sirius.

Remus nodded. ‘I won’t be in pain anymore, Sirius. I won’t be a danger to anyone. No one has to lie anymore.’

Sirius cupped his cheek. ‘Is this really what you want?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right.’ Sirius smiled. ‘I love you so much. You know that right? No matter what?’

Remus kissed him feverishly, so giddy that he could barely contain himself. For the first time in his entire life, his whole future lay before him. He had possibilities.

The double birthday celebration for James and Remus finally happened – belatedly – the second weekend in April. There was a month and a half left of class, exams were on the horizon, imminent Death Eater espionage was just around the corner – and so James insisted on the biggest bash he’d ever thrown.

When Remus came to the Room of Requirement to walk Regulus so he didn’t have to arrive alone, he already looked deeply amused.

‘How loud is it?’ asked Regulus, trying not to dread it for James’ sake.

‘Loud,’ said Remus. He held up a joint. ‘Come on. It won’t be so bad.’

Regulus took the joint and lit it before gesturing to his trunk. ‘Oddly, I’m having trouble picking something to wear.’

Remus’ grin turned downright wolfish. ‘James likes you in red – that nice shirt with the design on the collar.’

‘You’re a legend.’ Regulus grabbed the dark red shirt from his trunk and pulled it on. He held up his arms to Remus. ‘Well?’

‘Almost as handsome as Sirius,’ Remus teased.

‘Excellent.’

Regulus passed him the joint and they finished smoking before making their way down to the Gryffindor common room.

‘I can hear the party already,’ said Regulus as they trotted down the marble steps of the final stairwell.

Remus chuckled. ‘They went a little hard. James because he’s so happy to have you back. Sirius because he won’t shut up about how now we can properly get married.’

‘Does that mean I’ll have you as my brother in law officially?’

‘I hope so.’

Regulus looked at him thoughtfully. ‘That should be next, I reckon.’

‘What?’

‘Legalising marriage for us all. It’s not legal for us, it’s not legal for Kreacher, it’s not legal for the centaurs. It’s horrible.’

Remus put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Consider me your campaign manager.’

The party was louder, more boisterous, more chaotic than Regulus could possibly have imagined. He followed Remus into a common room filled with unending fireworks and charmed toys whizzing about in air filled already with bubbles and scented smoke. There was barely room to walk, let alone dance. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins all filled the common room. There was more alcohol, more music, more drugs and more food than Regulus had ever seen in one room. And he had been to a lot of Death Eater parties over previous summers.

‘Our men!’

This shout came from a very inebriated Sirius who all but tackled Remus when he reached them. James followed, a little more gracefully.

‘Happy birthday,’ said Regulus, pulling him into a kiss. ‘Are you having a good time?’

‘Now that you’re here.’ James beamed at him before tugging him into the crowd.

At some point James got dragged into a debate about Quidditch with several of the team players and Regulus drifted to the periphery. Remus was occupied by Sirius, who was snogging the face off him over by the windows. To his relief, Lily found him a few minutes later and looped arms with him.

‘We should have invited Evan,’ she said with tipsy giddiness. ‘We’re always together at the Slug parties. It’s weird not to have him here with us.’

‘James wouldn’t want him here. Evan understands.’

Lily sighed. ‘Surely Evan’s moved on by now? You and James have been together almost a whole year.’

‘I don’t think love works like that.’

‘You should go get him,’ she encouraged. ‘James will understand. I’m here, after all.’

‘Get who?’ James had appeared at Regulus’ side.

‘No one,’ said Regulus at the same time Lily said, ‘Evan.’

Oddly, James smiled. ‘Do. He should be here.’

Regulus stared at him, wondering if he’d drunk just enough to find the entire world amiable. ‘Seriously?’

‘Of course. He’s your best friend and we should bury the hatchet.’

‘Not on your birthday.’

James kissed his cheek. ‘Is there a better time to mend fences? Go. I’ll be here. You have to kiss me at midnight, after all.’

‘Is that so?’

‘That’s the rule.’

Laughing with uncharacteristic light-heartedness, Regulus kissed him again, not sure he could love James more than he did in that moment, before taking the offered out and slipping into the hallway.

The silence was a blessed relief.

James watched Sirius, heart hammering. Downstairs, the party roared on and he hated that he was missing even a moment of the fun, but this conversation was too important. Sirius had found the box whilst looking for rolling papers in James’ trunk and had demanded an answer. And James wanted, more than almost anything, to know Sirius approved.

‘So?’ he prompted. ‘What do you think?’

Sirius handed him back the box. ‘If you two get married before me, I’m going to kick you.’

Laughter, ecstatic and impossible to contain, bubbled up inside James. ‘I know our relationship hasn’t been without hiccups,’ he allowed, sitting on the edge of his bed, the ring box clutched in his hand. ‘And I know it’s illegal. In our world and the Muggle world. But I don’t care. I’ll wait until we’re both graduated. I’m not planning on proposing tomorrow. I just …’ He shrugged. ‘I look at it sometimes and wonder. It was my grandfather’s ring. My mum sent it to me. “Just in case.”’

Sirius’ smile was so wide his face looked like it would crack in two. ‘I get the Marauders forever? With my brother? That’s the happiest ending I could imagine, Prongs.’

James put the box carefully back into his trunk and shut it. ‘Let’s go back to the party,’ he said, slinging an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. ‘Our men await.’

Regulus found Evan in the library surrounded by books and notes, looking far more exhausted than he normally did.

‘Hi,’ he said when he saw Regulus. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘James invited you to the party.’

Evan’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I’m sure.’

‘No, he really did.’

‘To torture me?’

Regulus sighed and sat across from him. ‘You don’t have to come for him. Lily wants you there. I want you there. James and Sirius are surrounded by their legions of fans. We can huddle in the corner and drink until midnight.’

Evan rubbed his face, getting ink stains on his cheek. ‘I dunno. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but …’

‘But?’ Regulus looked at him, hopeful. ‘Don’t you want to save me from the gaggle of Gryffindors?’

After a beat, Evan cracked a smile. ‘All right, fine. For one hour.’

Relieved, Regulus stood and helped him shove everything into his book bag. They detoured first to the Slytherin common room so that Evan could put his bag away.

Most of the castle was tucked away by the time they made their way upstairs, though they passed a few of the ghosts heading to a separate party thrown by Sir Nicholas. When Regulus and Evan reached the Gryffindor common room, they navigated their way through the throngs to Remus, who was waving them over.

‘Hiya, Evan,’ said Remus cheerfully when they reached him. ‘Glad you could join us.’

‘Happy birthday.’ Evan reached into his robes’ pocket and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. ‘The finest in the country,’ he said. ‘Enjoy.’

Remus took it, surprised, and then hugged him. Evan looked equally as surprised, but returned the embrace belatedly.

‘Thank you,’ he said, far more warmly than Sirius had ever managed.

Regulus looked around. ‘Where’s James?’

‘He went to find you,’ said Marlene, appearing at his other side with Peter. ‘You were a while.’

‘Ah.’

‘Drinks?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Merlin, yes,’ muttered Evan.

Regulus stayed for half an hour with Evan, Remus, Peter and Marlene, but James never appeared. Not even when Sirius joined them. He, too, was looking for James.

Mildly concerned, Regulus left Evan with the others and went to find him. He’d only just ducked out of the portrait hole when Remus called at him to wait.

‘Here,’ he said, holding out the enchanted map.

Regulus opened it to see Remus had already activated it. James was on the seventh floor with Lily right where the Room of Requirement was. ‘Huh,’ he grunted. ‘Guess they went to find me and Evan?’

‘Probably. Come on.’

Remus fell into step beside him and they made their way upstairs, too drunk to move quickly or have any real desire to. They passed by the Bloody Baron and Peeves, who nodded to them, but didn’t stop on their way to the ghost party. The stairs redirected themselves a few times, making both Regulus and Remus stumble drunkenly.

As they at last trudged onto the seventh floor, Regulus slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders. ‘Are you having a good birthday, Moony?’

Remus grinned at his rare use of the name. ‘I am. And you, Cinder?’ He winked.

Laughing loudly, Regulus bobbed his head. ‘You’re right. It was a good idea.’

‘I’m always right, little star.’ He smiled, but it fell slightly seconds later. ‘Is “Troy” staying?’

Regulus shrugged. ‘He took an Unbreakable Vow. He literally has to help us.’

‘My conscience tells me Dumbledore needs to know.’

‘Are you going to tell him?’

‘No.’

‘How come?’

‘I promised you. And …’

‘And?’

‘Selfishness.’ Remus shrugged. ‘Faith. I want you to be right. I think you’re going about this in a way that’s produced more results and answers than wizards three times our age. And you protected me. You’re still protecting me. So, no, I won’t say anything.’

Regulus shot him a grateful look.

‘And,’ Remus added, ‘I won’t deny that he enabled us to stop Greyback. So I’m somewhat biased.’

‘Are you all right? After everything?’

‘No. Not particularly. But this war won’t be won if we stop to lick our wounds. We have to keep going.’

Regulus nodded. ‘That’s what I keep telling myself.’

They stilled in unison outside the Room of Requirement; the door was there, a sign that James and Lily were inside. Regulus pushed the door open and he and Remus walked in.

Regulus stopped dead.

There, in the bed Regulus had taken refuge in all year, were James and Lily.

Remus felt like he’d been punched. Lily and James had not even stopped kissing at the sound of the door opening. They were locked together, naked, making noises Remus hadn’t seen outside of graphic Muggle films. Beside him, Regulus looked whiter than a ghost.

The outrage on his behalf jolted Remus into action.

‘James, what the fuck?’ he roared.

Beside him, Regulus’ breath caught. Tears welled in his eyes and his jaw clenched as he fought them back down.

James finally broke away from Lily to look over his shoulder at them. ‘Do you mind?’

Regulus turned and left without a word.

‘Regulus!’ Remus grabbed at him, but he was too quick. Looking back at James, Remus was aghast to see that he was once again kissing Lily. Who, like James, seemed unbothered by Regulus’ arrival.

Baffled, Remus shook his head at them and tore after Regulus.

But he was already gone.

Evan was halfway back to the dungeons when he ran headlong – literally – into Regulus. ‘There you—’ His voice died upon catching sight of Regulus’ face. Horror – and a protectiveness that he always battled down out of respect for Regulus’ relationship – flooded through him. ‘Regulus?’

‘I’m done.’ Regulus sounded so strange. Eerie. He was deathly pale. ‘I’m leaving.’

Evan had to physically resist the urge to take his face in hand and comfort him. ‘Leaving?’

‘Hogwarts.’ Regulus looked completely manic. His eyes were too wide. But he didn’t look drunk or high or charmed.

‘Why? What happened?’ Evan looked him up and down. ‘Did something happen with James? Did you have a fight?’

Regulus blinked at him, tears welling in his dark, dark eyes, and he swayed on his feet.

‘Let’s go to Hogsmeade,’ said Evan quickly, putting an arm around him. Whatever it was, getting out of the castle seemed like the best idea.

Not a word left Regulus as they crept through the castle and Hogsmeade. The village was largely quiet, most of the residents abed, and the few about paid them no mind.

‘What happened?’ Evan asked again as they neared the house. ‘Talk to me, Reg.’

Regulus said nothing. He only breathed hard through his nose, his jaw locked furiously.

Grindelwald opened the door as they walked up the path. ‘Bit late, isn’t it?’

‘Something happened.’

‘What?’

‘I’m not sure.’

Evan led Regulus inside into the kitchen. Regulus sat down mutely. Evan looked worriedly at Grindelwald, whose brow furrowed. He moved across the room and kneeled in front of Regulus.

‘Did someone hurt you?’ he asked with such kindness and promise of retribution that Evan loved him in that moment.

‘Gellert?’ Regulus’ use of Grindelwald’s first name was shocking to all, but the tenor of his voice was more distractingly worrying.

‘Yes?’

‘How fast can you pack?’

Evan’s heart jumped and he moved closer. ‘Mate, you have to give us some context. I’ll pack our bags tonight and bring everything back down here if you just tell me what happened between you leaving me with Gryffindor and company in the common room – and me finding you downstairs looking like you’d just seen a murder.’

Regulus finally met his gaze. The pain in his eyes shattered Evan’s heart instantly and he almost choked. No one had ever made Regulus look so destroyed, not even his own parents, and Evan wanted to kill whomever had done it.

The urge was hot and violent and honestly slightly worrying, but it burned inside of him like a fire roaring to get free and destroy.

‘James is fucking Lily,’ Regulus finally ground out. ‘Are you with me or not?’

The words made absolutely no sense and Evan stared at him, trying to figure out how drunk he was. ‘Regulus, James—’

‘Are you with me or not?’

‘Regulus.’ Evan took his hand and leaned in. That he was about to defend James Potter of all people made him physically unwell. ‘I am always with you. But James loves you. More than anything. I know that much. This makes no sense. Are you sure you weren’t cursed?’

‘Remus saw them, too.’

‘Polyjuice potion?’

Raking his fingers through his black hair, Regulus rocked his head. ‘Firstly, that’s ridiculous. Who would do that? Secondly, the Room of Requirement can’t be fooled by Polyjuice potion. It only allows in those the inhabitant trusts. The room has protected me for a year now. It only lets in those I trust. It didn’t even let in you until recently.’

The truth in his words made Evan swallow hard. He looked at Grindelwald, who shook his head in disbelief.

‘All right,’ said Evan, straightening up and pausing only to kiss the top of Regulus’ head. ‘I’ll go pack our bags.’

‘You don’t—’

‘I’m coming.’ Evan looked to Grindelwald. Leta and Nori had come in mid-conversation and both looked horror struck at what they had heard. ‘Keep an eye on him?’

All three nodded.

With a final, worried look at Regulus, Evan took off back for the castle.

Remus had not slept. He’d looked for Regulus, but after wandering through the castle for an hour, figured Regulus had taken off for Hogsmeade and returned to the Gryffindor common room. The party was still in full swing.

He made a beeline for Sirius, but he was beyond drunk and having a serious conversation at that time would be utterly pointless. Instead Remus brought him up to bed and then waited in the common room for James and Lily to return.

His anger grew every hour that James and Lily did not appear.

Sirius, Peter, Arthur and Frank stumbled back down a little after dawn, loudly talking about needing hangover potions. They stopped short at the sight of Remus on the sofa, hands together, scowling.

‘Remus?’ Sirius, who was still a bit drunk, frowned. ‘Babe? What’s wrong?’

As he stepped forward, the portrait hole opened and James stumbled in.

Remus was off the sofa in a flash and seized James by the shirt collar, slamming him into the wall with inhuman fury. ‘After everything? Are you fucking serious?’

‘Remus, oi! What gives?’ Frank’s shout barely registered.

‘Not even Severus would stoop so low.’ Remus released him with great difficulty.

James was looking at him in absolute bafflement. ‘Someone pee in your weed, Moony? What the fuck?’

‘Fucking Lily Evans in Regulus’ bed? Really, James?’

The void of sound that encased the common room after he said this felt like a spell in and of itself.

‘What?’ Sirius sounded downright dangerous.

James was looking at Remus like he’d lost his mind. ‘What are—’ He frowned, did a double take and slumped against the wall. ‘No.’

‘Yeah,’ spat Remus.

‘No.’ James shook his head, expression slack with horror. ‘I—’

The portrait hole opened a second time and Lily walked in. She took in the sight before her and her hands went to her mouth.

‘You bitch,’ seethed Sirius.

Lily’s visibly bloodshot eyes snapped to his.

‘What is going on?’ Arthur was the only one who didn’t sound like anguish had made a home in his throat. ‘Someone please, talk. Now.’

‘I think someone drugged us with a love potion,’ Lily whispered, tears trailing down her freckled cheeks. ‘What I felt last night doesn’t make sense otherwise. Those feelings aren’t mine. I’m not in love with James.’

‘You slept together?’

‘Not by choice,’ croaked James. He shoved Remus away and then sprinted out of the portrait hole without a backwards glance.

‘Who would do such a thing?’ Frank crossed his arms over his chest, a deeply troubled look on his face. ‘That kind of love potion can’t just be bought in Hogsmeade. And few students would be talented enough to brew it.’

‘Snape.’ Sirius said his name like a curse.

Lily stared at him for a moment before she turned on her heel and all but sprinted out of the common room.

Remus looked at Sirius. ‘Hogsmeade?’

‘Hogsmeade.’

They tore after James, Peter hot on their heels.

Dawn was slow to crawl into the sky that day, as if it wanted to hide away as much as Regulus did. He rolled another joint and stuck it in his mouth. He’d been sitting on the front step for a while, waiting for Evan to return.

Every time his mind drifted, he thought back to James in bed with Lily and the urge to cry, scream, vomit and/or break something all rose up in his chest. He hadn’t been able to take a full breath since seeing them.

Gellert sat down beside him. He held out a hand for the joint and Regulus passed it to him automatically.

‘There’s no day of my life I’ve regretted more than the day I lost Albus,’ said Gellert softly. ‘The day his sister died. It may not be as dramatic a fallout, but one day James will regret losing you. Just as I regret betraying Albus.’

‘You didn’t fuck your first love in his bed, Gellert.’

‘I may or may not have killed his sister.’

Regulus didn’t know what to say to that.

Gellert handed the joint back and blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘Potter might not be the sharpest tool in the magical toolbox, but he loves you. That’s not been a lie.’

Regulus choked on a sob. ‘I doubt it. Lily was always the better choice. I was just a distraction he chased after out of some twisted sense of obligation.’

‘You don’t actually believe that.’

‘Why not?’

Gellert sighed. ‘Perhaps there’s more to it than you know.’

‘I’m not sure I care.’

‘You care. And you are smarter than this.’ Gellert patted his knee. ‘Take it from a man who has spent his entire life missing the same man. Be very, very sure you know what it is you’re walking away from. Assumptions and miscommunications have done far too much damage to the world. Hear his side tomorrow. If you still hate him, at least you’ll hate him with clarity.’

Regulus had to rub his hand over his mouth several times to stop himself from crying. ‘It’s too much, Gellert. Love shouldn’t hurt this much this often.’

‘The bulk of your hurts have come from the war.’

‘If I go to him tomorrow—’ Regulus cut himself off and breathed forcefully for several moments. ‘If he tells me he’s in love with Lily, I don’t think I’ll recover from that. In fact I know I won’t. The only thing keeping me from drinking another death potion is knowing that I’m the only one close enough to the Dark Lord to finish him. Without that – without that—’

‘Without that you are still the kind-hearted boy who freed every house elf he knew. Without that you are the boy who saved an innocent witch from death. Without that you are the boy who defended a werewolf without even knowing him, saved hundreds of innocent lives unasked and hardly aided, and freed a man from prison who had given up on life.’ Gellert affixed him with a look of pointed admiration. ‘You are more than your accomplishments against the Dark Lord, Regulus. And you’re more than your relationship with James Potter. Don’t stay alive for him. Stay alive because your brother loves you. Stay alive because you are Kreacher’s family. Stay alive because Evan, Nori, Leta and I all desperately want you here. You’re wanted, Regulus. And you are not alone.’

Regulus felt so stupidly grateful to him in that second he almost broke down completely. He’d never had a good father. Never had anyone really play a fatherly role. Dumbledore was kind, but they were not very close. In that moment, alone on the step with Gellert, Regulus at last felt like there was someone who cared enough to be that for him.

He dragged in a tremulous breath. ‘I can’t – I can’t face him right now.’

‘That’s fine,’ said Gellert. ‘Just bear what I said in mind.’

‘I will.’

Evan returned shortly thereafter, a rucksack on his shoulder. ‘Kreacher’s got the trunks.’

‘You called Kreacher? How?’

‘You’d be surprised what screaming into a fireplace will get you.’

Regulus almost cracked a grin.

‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’

Lily tracked Severus down to the Undercroft. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a cauldron in front of him, a stack of books beside him. His sleeves were rolled up and she noticed that though he had two new tattoos, neither was the Dark Mark.

He looked up, startled. ‘Lily,’ he breathed, rising to his feet. ‘What are you – are you all right? Are you crying?’

She wiped angrily at her eyes. ‘I’m going to ask this once and I need a straight answer, Sev. No fucking around.’

‘Sure.’ He nodded. ‘Of course, Lily. You know I’d never lie to you.’

‘Did you curse James last night?’

He snorted, instantly irritated. ‘Is that what this is about? Not you wanting to talk but precious fucking Potter—’

‘Someone drugged us.’

That shut Severus up.

‘A love potion,’ she continued, barely getting the words out from around the lump of mounting hysteria in her throat. ‘Neither of us wanted to. Regulus found us.’

Severus stared at her in absolute dismay. ‘Lily—’

‘Was it you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘No one hates him more than you.’

‘And no one loves you more than me!’

His outrage echoed around the stone chamber.

‘You think I want you to touch him? You think I could stand that?’ He shook his head in utter disbelief. ‘You think I could hurt you?’

She burst into tears.

‘Lily …’

In two strides Severus had her in his arms and she wanted to hate him for how cruel he’d been all year but in that moment his arms were the most comforting place she could imagine being.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, as if reading her mind. Or perhaps he too missed their closeness and hated the distance of the last year. ‘I should never have said what I did. I should never have let this rift build. You know I think you’re the most brilliant witch in history.’ He leaned back to look into her eyes, his own gaze so filled with meaning she swayed in his grip. ‘You know I love you more than anyone else.’

‘You called me a Mudblood.’

His hands came up to cradle her face; his eyes shone with remorse. ‘And I have regretted that every moment of every day since. I didn’t even believe it. I said it because I was angry and there’s no excuse. But it was wrong and I’m sorry, Lily. I am.’

She nodded belatedly and he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

‘Tell me everything that happened,’ he said, leading her over to the pile of cushions and helping her sit down.

She looked at the cauldron. ‘What are you working on?’

‘Practise before the next exams. Lily – tell me what happened.’

‘We were at James and Remus’ birthday,’ she croaked, trying to dig through the hazy forest of distorted memories. ‘I remember picking up a drink and then everything gets …’ She shook her head. ‘I woke up like an hour ago in the Room of Requirement. James was asleep beside me. I couldn’t remember the night until I got to the lavatory. Even now, it’s hard to fully remember it. I remember feeling in love with him. Feeling so in love with him I was sick with it. But I’ve never felt like that for James.’

‘Never?’

She held his gaze. ‘Never.’

Severus nodded and gestured for her to continue.

‘When I got back to the common room, Remus was two seconds from killing James. I don’t think James remembered straight away either.’ She tucked her hair behind her ears, hands shaking. ‘Who would do this? Who benefits?’

‘I’ll find out.’ Severus looked murderous.

‘How?’

‘I’m good at figuring things out. And when I do, I’ll make them pay. I swear.’

Lily held out her hand and he immediately interlaced their fingers. ‘Do you know what kind of potion could do this?’

‘I have an idea.’

‘Okay,’ she rasped. ‘Thank you, Sev.’

‘I meant what I said,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry. I was jealous and I took it out on you. It’s unacceptable. I hope you can forgive me.’

She smiled crookedly. ‘This is a good start.’

They spent the rest of the day in the Undercroft together. Lily felt too fragile and too upset to want to leave, and so she curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder, and listened to him explain the potion he was making.

James got sick three times on his way through the secret passage into Hogsmeade – and he was certain none of it was down to how much he’d drunk. He couldn’t calm down, much as he tried. He had a vague, vague memory of seeing Regulus last night. His expression when he’d walked into the Room of Requirement. Worse, James remembered what he’d said. Even now it didn’t feel like he’d spoken. It was like someone else, someone he didn’t know, had taken control of him.

Every time Regulus’ face flashed through James’ mind, he wanted to destroy everything in sight. What was worse was the fact that he could still feel Lily on his skin and where once that would have been everything he wanted, now he felt icky. He wanted to shower and kiss Regulus and remove the feeling of anyone else from his body.

James knew Regulus would see reason the second he told him about the love potion. Regulus wasn’t irrational and dismissive. All James had to do was get him to listen and everything would be fine.

He repeated this to himself over a dozen times on his walk. But when he reached the house his parents had purchased for Regulus, it was silent. Still. Empty.

He hammered on the door with his fist. ‘Regulus! Regulus, open up!’

Nothing.

He knocked harder. ‘Leta! Get out here! Nori! Troy!’

No one appeared.

His eyes went to the wooden letterbox and his heart sank. An envelope with Remus’ name was sticking up from inside the slot. Reaching out, dread mounting, he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Remus,

The house is yours. I can’t keep it.

I’ll see you over the summer.

Regulus

When James checked, he found the house keys inside the box. He was still staring at the letter and the keys when his legs gave out beneath him. He didn’t even process that he was sobbing until he couldn’t draw breath and realised he was hyperventilating.

‘Jamie, hey! Hey!’ Sirius suddenly appeared at his side and wrapped his arms around James. His dark eyes scanned the letter and he cursed violently in French. When his eyes drifted back to James, he forced a smile to his lips. ‘It’s all right,’ he said forcefully. ‘We’ll find him. You know how reactionary he is. We’ll sort it out.’

‘Who would do this? Why? What did I do to deserve this? Lily? Who gets anything out of this?’

James asked question after question as he sobbed into Sirius’ shoulder, but Sirius had no answers to offer him.

Barty watched the upsetting scene unfold from the other side of the street, hidden from view by a large tree. Walt floated beside him, also watching, an inscrutable look on his face.

‘It worked,’ said Walt quietly.

‘Yep.’

‘You don’t sound happy.’

‘I feel like a dick,’ muttered Barty. ‘I don’t have to like James to know this isn’t right.’

‘It’s for the greater good.’

Barty glanced at the Bloody Baron, stomach in knots. ‘If you say so.’

‘Do you still want to defeat Riddle and ensure that the true heir of Slytherin rises to unite the Wizarding World at last?’

‘Yes.’

‘If the prophecy is correct, Riddle cannot live while their child lives. Thus, we need the child. And once Riddle is out of the way, the way will be clear for the true heir. We must have patience, Barty. This is only the beginning of a very long game.’

Barty nodded, but he didn’t feel much better.

‘You did what you had to do. The path to greatness is never easy. It will be all right in the end. You’ll see.’

Pushing away from the tree, Barty took the long route back to Hogwarts, turning over his plans in his mind. Hard as the last few days had been, this was only the beginning. And if things went according to plan, he’d more than make it up to Regulus.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.

Chapter Text

‘I’m sorry. There is nothing more I can do.’

The finality in Dumbledore’s tone made James want to break everything in his cosy office, which at the moment felt less welcoming than the castle’s dungeons. Over Dumbledore’s shoulder, Fawkes peered down at James and just the sight of him hurt. He couldn’t look at Fawkes without thinking of Regulus.

‘But you’re his guardian! Surely you can make him come back.’ James looked at him beseechingly. He’d grown up believing that there wasn’t a single obstacle that Dumbledore couldn’t come up with a solution for. Even with the war, he was always so calm and practical and confident that good would win out in the end. Yet now Dumbledore was smiling at him and telling him that his hands were tied.

Dumbledore offered only the same kind, empathetic smile of sympathy and support. ‘At seventeen, he is an adult. Not even the Ministry can compel him back to school. Nor would I ever force someone to attend school who did not wish to be there.’

James scowled at him. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘I know.’ Dumbledore gestured to the mug of hot chocolate in front of James, which he picked up obediently. ‘Regulus might still be in sixth year, but he’s legally an adult. My guardianship only comes in now in cases of emergency.’

‘This is an emergency.’ But it came out weak and James knew that despite how violated he felt and upset he was, it was not, in actuality, a real emergency.

Dumbledore peered over the rim of his spectacles at James and Sirius. ‘I spoke very briefly to Regulus this morning. He contacted me from the Floo in The Leaky Cauldron.’

James felt like he couldn’t breathe.

‘Is he all right?’ asked Sirius. ‘Where is he?’

‘He’s staying in London and has assured me that he’ll be in regular contact. He intends to carry out the same plans he’s had all year. I see no reason to fret about him.’ Dumbledore nodded to James. ‘Are you all right, James?’

‘No,’ said James shortly. ‘But it’s not Lily’s fault and it’s not Regulus’ fault so I can’t really be mad at anyone other than some nameless, faceless shithead who drugged me.’

‘I am looking into that, I assure you,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Once we discern who did it, the appropriate measures will be taken.’

‘If it wasn’t Snape, it was Rosier,’ Sirius cut in. ‘They’re the only ones who benefit.’

‘Severus denies it and Lily has said she believes him.’ Dumbledore sighed. ‘As to Evan, that will be more difficult to verify.’

James stiffened. ‘Why?’

‘Because Mr Rosier has also withdrawn from school.’

To James, this was proof enough. Sirius seemed to agree.

‘Do you know where they are? Regulus left the keys to his house in his letterbox.’

Dumbledore sighed sadly. ‘No. I do not. But we’ve arranged to meet later this week to discuss his plans for meeting Tom Riddle, so I’m sure that he’s found a safe place to land.’

‘That’s something,’ grumbled Sirius. ‘And I imagine Kreacher and Leta are with them.’

‘I’ve no doubt.’

When James and Sirius left Dumbledore’s office shortly thereafter, neither felt better. Dumbledore had been their best hope and now they were back to square one.

Remus, Peter and Marlene were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairwell. All three looked anxious and glum.

‘No joy?’ asked Peter.

‘No joy,’ said Sirius. ‘Regulus and Evan both dropped out.’

‘Fuck,’ grunted Marlene.

‘Merlin,’ marvelled Peter. ‘All over a fight?’

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and kissed his temple. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he whispered. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

‘It was Evan,’ said James. ‘It had to have been.’

‘Agreed,’ said Sirius. ‘And now he’s got his claws into Regulus and is undoubtedly filling his head with all sorts of nonsense.’

Remus sighed. His next words came out gentle, but firm. ‘I don’t think Evan would do this. Firstly, I don’t think he’d stoop that low. Secondly, Evan’s not skilled enough with love potions to make the kind that could do this. Few can.’

‘Snape can.’

‘Snape says he didn’t do it,’ said James. ‘And for as much as I hate him – we all know Snape would rather sleep with me than have me sleep with Lily.’

No one could argue that.

The Marauders set off back to the tower in a state of dejection.

James looked at Remus. ‘Will you write to him and tell him that someone drugged us? I’ve already sent a letter but I don’t think he’ll believe me.’

It broke him to admit this, but he knew how it looked. Knew what he had said.

Do you mind?

Every time James remembered himself saying it, he wanted to smash his head into a wall.

Despite Remus’ words, Evan was the only one other than Snape who had anything to gain from such a horrendous trick. And while he might not have been skilled enough to brew such a potion, he was certainly wealthy enough to procure one from a disreputable, undoubtedly Death Eater adjacent source.

When Barty stepped out of his dormitory a little after dawn, unable to sleep and wanting to talk to the Bloody Baron, Severus was leaning against the opposite wall. He looked more furious than Barty had ever seen him.

‘Is Rosier in there?’ he sibilated.

Barty opened the door behind him and gestured inside. ‘Nope. Haven’t seen him. Why?’

Severus shouldered past him and searched the room before conceding that Barty wasn’t lying. ‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know. All his stuff is gone.’

‘Is Regulus gone as well?’

Barty shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Come with me.’

Severus’ tone allowed for no argument, though Barty would have gone with him regardless. He’d felt horribly guilty since seeing James lose his composure in Hogsmeade.

Barty followed Severus reluctantly to Slughorn’s office. Severus rapped his knuckles on the door, body almost vibrating with rage.

‘You good there, Sev?’ Barty looked him up and down. ‘You don’t seem good.’

Before Severus could respond, a sleepy-looking, bleary-eyed Slughorn opened his door, still in his dressing gown and clearly on his first cup of coffee. ‘Gentlemen, it’s quite early. Is everything all right?’

‘All of Evan Rosier’s stuff is gone,’ said Severus.

‘Ah.’ Slughorn nodded grimly. ‘Yes, the headmaster informed me just an hour ago that both he and Mr Black have dropped out. It’s quite a shame. I’ve half a mind to write to them and see if I can’t persuade them to change their minds. I wonder what prompted it.’

When Slughorn had closed the door moments later after reminding both not to miss breakfast, Severus looked at Barty with a furious glint in his eye. ‘Someone drugged Lily Evans and I’ll bet you gold it was Rosier.’

Barty’s heart sank. ‘Evan has nothing to gain from that.’

‘No? You’re telling me Rosier isn’t completely in love with Black? And now he’s got him.’

‘Severus—’

‘You tell your friend to watch his back,’ seethed Severus. ‘If I run into him this summer, he might just be my initiation into the Death Eaters.’

This promise hanging in the air between them, Severus stormed off.

‘Fuck,’ grunted Barty, his hands going to his head.

Being back in his childhood home was Regulus’ idea of a commencing nightmare, but Kreacher had assured him that his parents were in France and wouldn’t be home for the remainder of the summer. And so he, Evan, Leta, Nori and Gellert snuck into 12 Grimmauld Place with no one the wiser.

Nothing had changed in the months since Regulus had last been inside the cold, ancient walls. As ever, there was more cheer to be found in a haunted house than the Black ancestral home. (It was, of course, one of many, but his aunts and uncles lived in the countryside estates. For some reason he had never understood, his mother preferred the creepy, cramped London house.)

After Regulus gave everyone a quick rundown of where everything was, the group split up. Gellert, Nori, Kreacher and Leta combed the house for anything useful or possibly important that they might have overlooked or not realised belonged to Riddle, Slytherin or one of the Founders, while Regulus and Evan set about making breakfast.

Kreacher kept the house well stocked at all times on the off chance that anyone came by, so they didn’t have to go shopping. Regulus gathered the ingredients and did the dishes while Evan chopped and sliced and mixed, and soon the kitchen smelled like cooking sausages and bacon; warm, chocolate chip crêpes; and sizzling vegetables and eggs in an omelette Regulus watched Evan make with mild awe.

‘When did you learn to cook?’ he enquired, whistling.

‘I like cooking,’ said Evan with a shrug. ‘I cook for me and Mum when Dad’s away.’

‘He still call cooking “the realm of women and workers”?’

‘Yes. Apparently he thinks that’s a compliment. But my dad’s never even dusted a bookshelf so, you know, what-the-fuck-ever.’

‘Our parents are remarkably skilled at lowering the bar of good parenting.’ Regulus rotated the sausages in the skillet. ‘Thank you,’ he added quietly. ‘For coming with me.’

A hand appeared in front of his face, proffering a mug of tea. He glanced over at Evan, who was smiling at him.

‘Any time, mate,’ Evan promised. ‘Maybe I’ll be able to cook you enough that you stop looking so gaunt.’

‘I do not look like a Gaunt,’ said Regulus, putting his hand to his chest in mock offence.

Evan chuckled. ‘You’re right. Not even Salazar Slytherin could pull off that outfit.’

Regulus looked down at his shirt. He’d donned one of Sirius’ old band ones from the hidden floorboard in his room full of Muggle contraband that not even Kreacher had told their mother about. ‘Sirius got this at a rock concert.’

‘They have concerts for rocks?’ Evan looked genuinely bemused.

The surge of fondness was sudden and Regulus darted up to Sirius’ room, fetched one of his favourite vinyl records and the gramophone, and brought them back down to the kitchen.

It took thirty-four seconds for Evan to concede that rock music was pretty good.

As they finished cooking, AC/DC blasted through the kitchen in a way that would have sent his parents into orbit – which amused him to no end. But as Regulus’ mind wandered, he became more and more subdued. Evan kept throwing worried glances his way, but Regulus had no assurances to give him. If he kept himself stoic and detached, he could carry on much as he ever had in the face of pain and disappointment. But he knew if he spoke about it – if he even allowed James’ name to cross his lips – he’d shatter.

Leta floated through the wall as they began setting the table for breakfast. They left a place for her as usual, and she floated to the spot Regulus gestured to.

‘Find anything?’ he asked, lowering the volume on the gramophone before summoning the silverware from the box above the sink and lowering them gently onto the table with his wand. The silver was his great, great, great, great aunt Morticia’s and Regulus was weirdly fond of the old set.

‘Your family have a lot of cursed artefacts,’ Leta remarked. ‘And some of them shrieked at Nori when she lifted them.’

‘There’s a Boggart somewhere around here too,’ he muttered, recalling a harrowing summer’s day when he’d “found” Sirius’ dead body and was screaming and crying over him when Sirius and Kreacher found him. Kreacher, the only one with magic at the time, had ousted the Boggart, but Regulus had a feeling the spirit was somewhere hanging about.

‘It would be helpful if I could, you know, help.’ Leta scowled at her hands. ‘I’m useless.’

‘Hey.’ Regulus caught her gaze pointedly. ‘You’re the linchpin of this whole fucking plan. I couldn’t have done this – we couldn’t have done any of this – without you.’

‘Which means,’ said Gellert, wandering in with Kreacher and Nori, ‘that when we kill Tom Riddle, Leta Lestrange will go down in history as the key to winning the war.’

Leta looked pleased at their words and some of the frustration ebbed from her translucent face. Not for the first time, Regulus wished he could give her form. Give her some of the life that she’d lost so young. Every time he gazed into her face, his heart ached for the life she should have lived. For the love she’d had for Newt Scamander that was lost to history.

‘I had a thought on that, actually,’ said Gellert.

‘What?’

‘Leta.’ He nodded to her. ‘After all, it’s my fault that you’re dead. I wanted to make it right somehow.’

‘It is?’ Regulus looked from Gellert to Leta, astounded that she’d not mentioned such an important fact. ‘He is?’

‘It was a long time ago,’ said Leta evenly, but her hard, drawn gaze was fixed on Gellert. ‘We were both different in those days. Worse. Selfish. You’d be surprised what fifty years does to your perspective. So what is your idea?’

Gellert crossed his arms over his chest, looking far more like a wizened scholar than a murderer on the path to atonement. ‘Well, you’re technically a spirit. And a spirit is a soul in want of a body. So all you need is a body.’

‘Isn’t that necromancy?’ asked Evan. ‘I don’t do necromancy.’

‘Yeah, count me out of reanimating the dead,’ said Regulus sardonically.

‘Kreacher is also disinclined to dig up graves and old bodies,’ Kreacher cut in. Beside him, Nori bobbed her head vehemently.

‘Not reanimating the dead,’ Gellert explained. ‘Taking her spirit and putting it back. The issue you run into with necromancy is that you’re only animating the dead form, which never goes well.’

Evan looked like he’d just been asked to swallow a ball of snot. ‘Speaking from experience?’

‘Yes, to my enduring shame,’ said Gellert. ‘But what I’m thinking is different. It’s not fixing the body and giving it flesh that’s the problem. It’s bringing the spirit back to the body. I don’t have it all worked out yet, but if you’re feeling frustrated, know that it’s on my mind. Along with, you know, everything else.’

Leta nodded hesitantly. ‘As long as I’m not a zombie. I draw the line at zombies.’

‘You’re too pretty to be a flesh-eating corpse,’ said Evan firmly.

‘I appreciate that,’ she replied with a smirk.

‘What about a vampire?’ asked Regulus.

‘You can’t create a vampire from a flesh and bone spell,’ said Gellert patiently.

‘Has it ever been done before?’

Gellert’s grin widened. ‘You stopped reading the book I wrote to you about when you found that passage, didn’t you?’

Regulus’ face went hot. ‘Maybe.’

‘Keep reading.’

Kreacher seized upon the break in conversation to hand Regulus a stack of letters. ‘These just arrived, Master Regulus.’

The sight of James’ handwriting made the air fly out of his lungs and he had to put a hand on the back of the nearest chair to keep from swaying on his feet.

‘Burn them,’ he grunted, handing them back.

‘One is from Master Sirius—’

‘Please, Kreach. Not today. I can’t.’

Though he seemed to disagree, Kreacher bowed his head and took the letters only to cast them into the fire burning inside the ancient iron oven.

His heart now galloping in his chest and barely battling down the urge to cry, Regulus went to the cabinet where he knew his father kept liquor and poured himself a full glass of bourbon. He knocked it back in three gulps.

Leta floated over to him, concerned etched onto her beautiful face. ‘Regulus?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘No, you’re not.’

‘No, I’m not.’ He refilled the glass and turned around. The others were eyeing him worriedly. ‘I’m heartbroken, not suicidal, all right? Just give me this one. I’m not going off the deep end. I’m wallowing. Productively. I’m wallowing and making breakfast and fighting Death Eaters.’

‘Sure,’ said Evan softly. ‘You know we’ve got your back.’

‘Always,’ intoned Gellert. ‘Wallow as productively as you wish.’

Regulus looked from face to face. The boy, now a young man with a heart full of burdens, who had bullied him a year ago and yet loved him irrevocably; the man who been locked in prison for murder and mayhem for decades, who had killed innocents and now regretted it with his every breath; the ghost of a woman hiding for decades in Bellatrix Lestrange’s cemetery with hopes of a future none of them could guarantee her; and two house elves, one of whom was more of a family to him than his own parents, the other who had jumped into the fray without a second’s thought, ready to help because she wanted to. All but two had been in his life less than a year, and one of those he’d not even considered a friend a year ago. And yet in that moment, in a house that was the setting of so many of his nightmares, Regulus felt loved and accepted and safe. He might not have James, but he wasn’t alone.

His heartbreak could not drown out their faith in him.

‘I love you all,’ he croaked thickly. ‘In case I never get this chance again or if Voldemort kills us next week – I love you. All of you.’

Leta reached out and, though unable to embrace him, let her arm hover near his back. ‘We love you too.’

Evan, Kreacher and Nori nodded. Gellert grinned fondly and winked.

Soon the six assorted friends were gathered around the large, handmade table eating breakfast and discussing their plans for the summer. And, for the briefest moment, Regulus could pretend his heart wasn’t in pieces.

Lily had been staring at the clock beside her bed for an hour, all too aware that she was missing a very important Transfiguration class. One that she needed to be in before her final. But her head hurt and her heart was heavy and her eyes ached and she didn’t want to do anything but glare a hole into the wall and hate the nameless person who had punished not just her, but James and Regulus, too.

A soft knock sounded on her door a little after eleven and she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the door.

Severus was standing in the corridor, dressed in only his shirtsleeves and worn trousers. He held out a smoothie. ‘I skipped Defence Against the Dark Arts to get you this in Hogsmeade, so you have to drink all of it. Best friend’s orders.’

Despite how gloomy and depressed she’d been feeling, her lips twitched and she took the drink from him. ‘Thank you, Sev.’

His grin only broadened at her clear acceptance of him reaffirming his old place in her life and he thumbed over his shoulder. ‘Want to go for a walk?’

She sipped at the smoothie, pleasantly surprised that even over a year later, Severus remembered her favourite comfort foods. Smoothies were at the top of the list, right next to chocolate cake. ‘We have Herbology,’ she said, but it was half-hearted. She really, really did not feel up to Herbology.

‘Well, we’ll be looking at plants. Surely that counts.’

Lily laughed and it prompted the same from him. She waved him inside and changed quickly into something a little more practical than the long t-shirt she’d been sleeping in.

Five minutes later they were making their way out of the castle and into the cool, blustery April afternoon.

‘I’m surprised Tabitha didn’t give you grief about being out of school,’ she said, trying not to gulp down the entire smoothie in one go. Tabitha’s Treats had opened in their third year and was one of the best cafés in Hogsmeade if anyone were to ask Lily.

‘She knew right well I was supposed to be in school. But I told her that I was buying it for you and she promised not to tell.’

Lily smiled around the straw. ‘Thank you for checking on me. I’ve been in a … funk.’

‘Understandable.’

They walked until they came to a small glade of wildflowers. Severus pulled a blanket out of his backpack and, with a wave of his wand, spread it across the ground. They sat down and Lily leaned back on her arms, enjoying the sunlight.

‘Any plans for the summer?’ he asked tentatively. ‘Did you hear back about the job?’

‘Internship.’ She finished the smoothie and set the cup down between them. ‘Yeah. It’s a go. Of course Mum’s offered to let me move home until I’m making good money, but honestly if it comes to it I’ll stay with Marlene and Mary.’

‘Petunia still being charming?’

‘As charming as a cactus hidden in your pillow.’ She made a face. ‘You’d think seven years would be enough for her to stop hating me. But I suppose that’s just wishful thinking.’

Severus, who had always hated Petunia and once poured lemonade on her head when she made Lily cry, shrugged. ‘Perhaps she’ll come around now that you’re graduating.’

‘I think she’ll always be bitter she didn’t get a letter.’ Lily sighed sadly. ‘Honestly, I get it. I’d be jealous, too.’

‘Jealousy doesn’t make it all right,’ he added. ‘I know that better than anyone.’

The rare display of self-reflection made her smile and she redirected the conversation. ‘You? Did you get the interview at Albright’s Apothecary?’

Severus nodded. ‘Wants me to start in July. So I’ll have a month off to relax and then straight into work.’

‘At least it’s work you love. You’re going to invent some amazing potions.’

‘I hope so.’

The normalness of the conversation made Lily feel better than almost anything else could have. She’d tried not to dwell on how lonely she’d felt without him all year and having their friendship restored was the only silver lining of late.

‘Do you …’ Severus swallowed his words and waved them off. ‘Never mind.’

‘What?’

‘No, nothing. Stupid.’

Lily leaned in to catch his gaze. ‘Sev.’

He looked down when he spoke, as if he was afraid to see her reaction. ‘We always talked about going somewhere when we finished school.’

‘I remember.’ She smiled at the thought. ‘What about Italy?’

His head snapped up. ‘You serious?’

‘We’d have to be back before work starts but yeah—’

Severus caught her in a bear hug that stole the breath from her lungs. ‘Yes,’ he said fervently in her ear. ‘Italy sounds perfect.’

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the places they wanted to go over the summer and it wasn’t until he walked her to the Great Hall for dinner that Lily realised she’d not thought about the love potion incident or James Potter once the entire time.

The Roundtable pub was full of Death Eaters when Barty arrived a little after eleven o’clock. The letter from Evan had come before breakfast, but Barty had had to wait until after dinner to slip out of the castle and into Hogsmeade. If not for the money Bella had sent him, he’d have run out of bribery funds a long time ago. (His father hadn’t given him pocket money in years.)

Evan was seated in the back of The Roundtable, a coffee in front of him and chain smoking the way he always did when he was upset. His blonde hair was unkempt and had clearly been the sight of an excessive amount of stress-pulling.

‘How’s Regulus?’ Barty asked as he sat down, draping his coat over the back of the chair.

‘Awful,’ said Evan bluntly. Deep circles shadowed his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t slept all weekend. ‘But he’ll be all right. I’ll make sure of it.’

‘Are you both gone from Hogwarts for good?’ Barty hadn’t intended that to happen at all. They were supposed to have another year left together. He had wanted their help on his plans with Walt and what they envisioned the future of the movement to be. He’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that he and Walt could fulfil the prophecy and Regulus and James would sort it out just as they had everything else and everything could continue on as normal. That, he realised much too late, had been his mistake.

Evan sighed heavily. ‘I can’t see him going back right now. He’s pretty much determined to join the war. I’m sure we’ll be meeting the Dark Lord soon as well.’

‘Bella said.’ Barty slumped back in the booth. ‘Perhaps I’ll drop out, too.’

‘Don’t,’ said Evan pointedly. ‘There’s no reason to charge headlong into this shitstorm of nonsense. Enjoy the out while you can.’

‘You can’t expect me to sit inside Hogwarts twiddling my thumbs while you and Regulus and Bella are changing the world. Are risking your lives. I should be there.’

Evan’s mouth twisted furiously. ‘Has there been any news?’

‘What, about Potter and Evans?’

Evan inclined his head.

‘They aren’t together,’ he said honestly. ‘Evans has been hanging out with Severus all week and Potter’s asked me five times if I’ve heard from you two. Neither are happy, but they’re not together.’

Evan’s eyes narrowed into slits. ‘What’s his excuse for cheating?’

‘Perhaps he drank the wrong drink,’ said Barty. It wasn’t untrue, either.

‘No amount of alcohol would get me to cheat on Regulus,’ muttered Evan.

Barty eyed him, wondering. He’d had a few ideas of how to break Regulus and James up over the year – and had been running them past Bella, who didn’t much like James, either – but this had never been one of them. Ironically, his previous contemplations on splitting them up didn’t come into his mind until after Regulus and Evan left the castle together.

‘You two would be good together.’

Evan eyed him. ‘You really changed your tune.’

‘So did you.’ Barty ran his finger around the rim of his pint and shrugged. ‘Look, the past is in the past. I want us to spend this summer together – you, me and Regulus. Bella’s helping me look for a place so I don’t have to move back home and I was thinking Hogsmeade. We could all hang out and we wouldn’t be too far from anything.’

‘Things with you and Bella improving?’

Barty’s chest clenched. ‘Can I tell you a secret?’

‘Of course.’

‘I wish her baby was mine.’

Sympathy flared in Evan’s blue eyes and he put a hand on Barty’s forearm. ‘For what it’s worth, mate – you’d be a much better father than he’ll ever be.’

Barty wished the words didn’t feel like spears to his heart. ‘We’re kind of sad, huh?’

‘The saddest.’ Evan laughed humourlessly. ‘So, Hogsmeade?’

‘Yeah. I want to live in an all magic village. I hate having to hide.’

‘As do I.’

They exchanged commiserating looks.

‘Will you stay for a bit?’ asked Barty, unable to mask the hope in his voice. He knew he’d fucked up, but he also didn’t want to lose the only true friends he’d ever had.

‘Yeah, sure,’ said Evan with a small smile.

Barty flagged down one of the house elf waitresses and ordered them both dinner and another round of drinks. A girl in the far corner smiled demurely when Barty caught her gaze, but he felt nothing. He never had for anyone but Bellatrix.

‘We could always start one,’ said Evan off-handedly, drawing his thoughts from spiralling back towards Bella the way they always did.

‘Start one what?’

‘An all magic village. A place where we don’t have to hide. Hogsmeade is great, but it’s crowded. And we should have more than one option.’

Barty bobbed his head. ‘How would you even go about something like that?’

The waitress returned to their table with their food and drinks, and they tucked in instantly. The Roundtable might have been one of the most disreputable places in Britain, but the food was good. Thanking the house elf, Evan stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper.

‘From the Hogwarts house elves,’ he said with a wink.

The house elf took it curiously and walked off.

‘What’s that about?’

‘Freedom spell.’

Barty gaped at him. ‘Wait, really?’

Evan nodded. ‘I promised Regulus I’d give it to any elf I came across.’

‘That’s really cool,’ said Barty, thinking of Winky, his family’s house elf. Winky had always been kinder to him than his own father. He rubbed his jaw. ‘Got another?’

Surprised, Evan reached into his pocket for another slip of paper and held it out. ‘Winky?’ he guessed.

‘No one deserves to be tied to my father forever,’ he muttered.

Evan offered him a look of empathy. ‘Have you heard from him lately?’

‘No,’ said Barty shortly.

‘Back to Hogsmeade,’ said Evan, knowing him well enough to pivot the conversation. ‘Suppose you’d have to buy all the land and then put spells up. You’d have to make Muggles forget it’s a village at all.’

‘We shouldn’t have to do that,’ said Barty in frustration. The conversation had inadvertently reaffirmed for him that his deception had been for the greater good. If they could unseat the Dark Lord and restructure the movement, they could fix the world. For all wizards. Barty didn’t want the destruction Riddle did. He wanted them to be free and for Muggles to realise that they were no longer the dominant species on the planet.

‘No, we shouldn’t,’ Evan agreed. ‘Hiding … it’s tiring. It’s restrictive. It’s—’

‘A chokehold.’

‘Yeah.’

As he and Evan ate their burgers and chips and talked about where to move to, Barty thought far down the line, years into the future, and imagined a Wizarding Britain where they did not have to create an all magic village because there were hundreds of them to choose from.

The summons from Lord Voldemort arrived at Grimmauld Place by week’s end.

Regulus, Evan, Gellert, Leta, Kreacher and Nori had spent the week researching and discussing their plans. Gellert and Leta had latched onto the definitely-not-necromancy notion and had been going over the passage in Our Dark Histories regarding the restoration of a corpse – a conversation that turned Nori slightly green. Regulus and Evan meanwhile practised Occlumency until Regulus was assured that Evan would be able to keep Voldemort out of his mind, at least for a night.

‘He wants me to join officially,’ said Regulus, passing the summons across the table to Gellert. ‘He says to bring Kreacher. Guess Barty told Bella.’

‘He did,’ said Evan. ‘But he wants us to work together this summer, so I don’t think it was malicious.’

Regulus nodded. He still didn’t know how to feel about Barty, but Evan seemed inclined to think he was more on their side than off it. Apparently Bella’s pregnancy had sent him spiralling into a depression that worried Evan, who didn’t often worry about Barty.

‘Kreacher will go with you,’ said Kreacher immediately.

‘It may help us learn more,’ Gellert allowed.

Evan rubbed his face, brow furrowed in thought. He was growing in a beard and Regulus thought it rather suited him. He looked older, more mature. ‘I think we ought to lie low. At least for a few more days.’ His eyes flicked to Regulus. ‘He’ll be looking for reasons to doubt you and you’re tired. You won’t be at your full strength.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘You’re not, though,’ he said gently.

‘We have to go.’

‘Why? What’s the rush? Surely we can push him off for a few more days or a week?’

Regulus glanced from Evan to the others, hesitating. Evan knew everything except what Regulus’ plans were with Tom Riddle. Nor did he know anything about the horcruxes. ‘There’s something you should know,’ he said. ‘The reason I broke Gellert out to begin with.’

Gellert held up a hand to halt his confession. ‘I want a vow first.’

Evan cocked an eyebrow, clearly somewhat taken aback. ‘What for? I’ve given you no reason to doubt me.’

There was no mistrust in Gellert’s eyes, though he brokered no room for disagreement. ‘This is war, Evan. We do not have the luxury of relying on good faith. If we have no reason to doubt you, you should have no problem officially swearing your allegiance to Regulus. Just as I have.’

‘Oh.’ Whatever doubt had flooded Evan’s face vanished instantly. ‘To Regulus? Sure.’

Regulus grinned.

This time, Gellert performed the spell, binding Evan’s loyalty to Regulus magically. When the binding dissipated, Regulus finally told him everything.

‘So, theoretically,’ said Evan when Regulus had finished, ‘he’s killable now.’

Regulus shook his head. ‘We still haven’t destroyed the diary. But at least Dumbledore has it and it’s safe from Riddle’s clutches. So that’s something.’

‘Imagine misplacing parts of your soul,’ muttered Evan.

Regulus shuddered. ‘I’d rather not.’

‘So we’ve got two and there’s maybe, what, three? Seven? Ten?’

‘That remains to be seen,’ said Gellert.

Evan blew out a breath. ‘Shit. Well. I’m glad we broke you out.’

Gellert and Regulus both chuckled at this. Leta simply looked more stressed.

‘Hold on.’ Evan frowned at Gellert. ‘You can look like anyone.’

‘I can.’

‘And you don’t need Polyjuice potion to do it.’

‘I do not.’

‘So you could come with us.’ Evan leaned in, putting his hands together. ‘Shit, we could all go. He trusts Kreacher already. It sounds like he’s got a horcrux somewhere out there that can be opened with house elf magic. We only need to find out where. Going off the ring and the diary, it’s probably something sentimental.’

‘You think Tom Riddle is sentimental?’ cut in Leta.

‘More than any of us,’ said Regulus. ‘Even Barty and Bellatrix will tell you that. There’s nothing he talks about more than the Founders, Hogwarts – how he could have been one of them. How he should have been one of them. I think he’s terribly unhappy.’

‘I think he’s soulless,’ said Kreacher.

‘Well, we knew that,’ said Regulus, lips twitching. ‘Or, at least, soul-incomplete.’

Everyone laughed darkly.

‘Back to your suggestion, Evan,’ said Gellert. ‘You want me to come along?’

‘Yeah. As Remus.’ Evan’s brow furrowed as he thought ahead. ‘How much faith do you have that Remus can keep his mind closed without Voldemort cracking his way in? More than that, do you actually want to put Remus through Death Eater initiation? We can probably keep your brother and anyone else out of it for now, but Remus has been told by Avery to come by in June. He can’t get out of that. Unless he’s not there at all.’

Anyone else was quite the euphemism for James, but Regulus appreciated Evan avoiding his name for the time being.

Gellert rocked his head, expression approving. ‘That’s not a bad idea. But we need to approach it logically. Consider the horcruxes we’ve destroyed – the diary and the ring. One belongs to Tom personally, the other was an heirloom. His others will be likewise sentimental, as Regulus deduced. So what does he carry? What is he often around? Are there other families he’s close to like the Blacks and Lestranges and Gaunts who he’ll trust with a part of his soul?’

Everyone fell quiet as they thought over all their interactions with the Dark Lord.

Evan suddenly straightened and snapped his fingers several times as a realisation struck him. ‘Can I see that book?’ he asked Regulus. ‘The one on the horcruxes?’

‘How about the translations?’

‘Even better.’

Regulus fetched the translations from where Gellert and Leta had been poring over them in his father’s study, and handed them to Evan. A few minutes later, Evan turned one of the pages around and tapped a passage. ‘It says living things can hold soul fragments.’

‘You think Voldemort has a safekeeper?’ asked Regulus, recalling the story of King Miklós and his four safekeepers.

‘I think he’s got a great big fucking snake he brings around everywhere like a corgi,’ said Evan. ‘Nagini.’

‘Nagini?’ said Gellert, audibly surprised. ‘Are you certain?’

‘Yeah.’

Regulus frowned. ‘What?’

‘Nagini’s no snake. She’s a Maledictus. She’s just a girl. Cursed.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Regulus, absolutely stricken with horror. ‘Since when?’

‘I met her in the 1920s or 30s – I can’t remember. I lost track of her quickly. I didn’t find the cure until a few years before my imprisonment.’

His heart leapt. ‘There’s a cure?’

‘Shockingly easy, but buried by those who liked exploiting Maledictuses.’

‘And I thought our generation was bad,’ said Evan.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. ‘We’re not much better. Look how wizards treat house elves. Look how they treat werewolves.’

‘True.’

‘What would you need for the cure?’ asked Regulus, returning his attention to Gellert. ‘Even if she’s not a horcrux, we can’t just leave her there now that we know.’

‘It’s not a difficult cure. The trickiest part will be the virgin blood.’

Regulus and Evan both choked.

‘Why?’ asked Leta, appalled.

‘It’s an ancient blood curse mostly placed upon women,’ said Gellert darkly. ‘Why do you think?’

‘Does the blood have to be female?’ asked Evan.

‘I don’t believe so.’

‘Only halfway sexist then.’

Regulus snorted. ‘It’s fine. I can give the blood.’

Everyone looked at him.

‘You and James—’

‘No,’ said Regulus shortly, cutting Evan off. ‘Everything but that. Does that violate the virginity rule?’

Gellert had the grace to keep his expression neutral. ‘That should be fine.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Do you think she’ll help us?’ Evan directed this question at the table, returning the conversation to Nagini.

‘I don’t know,’ said Gellert honestly. ‘She may not trust me – but few would.’

‘We’ll have to try,’ said Regulus. ‘No one deserves to be trapped in the wrong body. That’s horrible.’

‘I agree,’ said Evan. ‘But if she’s also a horcrux, what then?’

Regulus rubbed his jaw in thought. He hadn’t been able to kill the basilisk who wanted him to become a Muggle-born serial killer. Killing an innocent girl with potentially two curses upon her was absolutely out of the question.

And then Gellert said, ‘We could stop her heart.’

Regulus dropped his hand. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘If we don’t use a killing curse but, say, suffocated her and then restarted her heart with a spell, then it would sever Tom’s hold on her but not kill her permanently.’

‘Well why didn’t you just say so?’ drawled Evan. ‘Just a wee strangulation.’

Gellert raised his mug to his lips. ‘Do you have a better idea?’

‘Any idea is a better idea,’ said Leta.

‘I am all ears.’

No one spoke.

When Lily stepped out of the girls’ lavatory, Severus was leaning against the opposite wall. He held out a tissue and a bottle of pale pink potion.

‘I heard you getting sick,’ he said quietly. ‘I made you this.’

She smiled crookedly. The stress, upset, violation and guilt constantly brewing inside her had left her physically ill all week. She had never handled stress well and this was worse than ever. ‘Just now?’

‘I brewed it after the other day.’

Touched, Lily took the potion and drank it. She instantly felt better and fell into step beside him. ‘Your potions are always better than Pomfrey’s,’ she complimented.

‘I know.’ He eyed her uncertainly. ‘How are you?’

She weighed her answer as she held his gaze. ‘Sad,’ she admitted. ‘And I feel irrationally guilty.’

‘Why?’

‘Regulus dropped out. I’m sure he’s heartbroken. I’ve thought about writing him a thousand times but I don’t even know what to say.’

‘Regulus will find out the truth,’ said Severus. ‘I aim for us all to find out the truth. Currently Rosier looks like the most likely candidate.’

Lily’s face fell. ‘Evan wouldn’t do that.’

‘Rosier’s done worse.’

‘Like what?’

When Severus couldn’t produce an answer, she had a feeling he was exaggerating out of hatred and ultimately being a bit unfair.

‘Evan’s my friend,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s not him.’

‘Who else has anything to gain by you and James getting together?’

‘Someone else. Trust me, Sev. Evan didn’t do it.’

They stilled at the end of the corridor, the stairwell before them. Severus bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly not wanting to part ways quite yet.

‘Do you feel better?’

‘Much.’

‘Can I walk you back to your room?’

Lily suddenly felt caged in. It was a strange feeling in a huge castle, but everything felt too close. Too much. ‘Fancy sneaking out to Hogsmeade?’ she queried, failing to keep the strain out of her voice. ‘Suddenly I want to be anywhere else.’

Severus smiled in a way she’d not seen in months and he gestured for her to lead the way. She looped her arm through his, needing support more than she cared to admit.

‘I can’t just sit here.’

Remus glanced over at James, who had been arguing with Sirius for the better part of the evening. Arthur and Frank had departed, citing dates with Molly and Alice, but undoubtedly wanting to get away from the dark cloud that hung over the Marauders.

‘We’re graduating soon,’ Sirius reiterated. His fists were clenched and the veins stuck out all over his arms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves. Remus knew Sirius was far less calm about the whole thing than he was pretending for James’ sake, and he was proud of Sirius for trying to think carefully about how to navigate the chaos breaking out all around them.

Remus couldn’t fault James for being hysterical, but he also knew that James would be furious at himself in a year if he dropped out with a month left until graduation.

Sirius continued: ‘You’re not going without me and I’m not going to let you blow up your future when you’re so close. You won’t get your internship if you drop out.’

‘Regulus—’

‘Is alive. Is safe. Is being Regulus.’ Sirius threw up his hands. ‘If he’s being too pig-headed to read your letters, he’ll feel really fucking bad about that later. For now, focus on your exams.’

James knocked his fist against his bed post. ‘You don’t have to come.’

‘He might already be with Voldemort,’ said Sirius sharply. ‘That was the plan we all agreed to. He’ll have come up with some excuse for us and we can’t go barging in there without knowing what it is. He told Remus he’ll be back over the summer. He told Dumbledore he’ll meet him in London. Just take a deep breath. Focus on yourself, Jamie. You’ve just been through an ordeal and you haven’t even given yourself ten seconds to be upset on your own behalf.’

‘He’s right,’ said Peter gently. ‘You need to make sure you’re all right, Prongs. Regulus has Evan—’

‘Evan did this!’

‘We don’t know that.’

‘Yes, we do.’

Peter sighed. ‘Jamie.’ His voice was gentle but firm. ‘You’re upset and you’re not thinking clearly. Same with Regulus. So, listen to us. He’s alive. He’s safe. Let us watch your back and just get to graduation. Then we’ll all go to London and Remus and I can hold him down if he won’t listen to the truth.’

‘I’m fine,’ said James through gritted teeth, clearly anything but fine.

A rapping at the window offered Remus a distraction and he crossed the room and took the letter from the unfamiliar owl. It was addressed to him. Frowning, Remus opened it quickly.

Moony,

Lie low tonight. If anyone asks, you were with me and E. Meeting TR.

Cinder

‘TR,’ he mouthed, racking his brain. And then it struck him.

Crossing the room in three strides, he threw the letter in the fire and watched until he was certain it had burned to ash, all evidence gone.

‘What was that about?’ asked James, distracted from his anguish.

Remus turned slowly back to face the other Marauders. ‘Well,’ he said with a deep sigh. ‘I know where Regulus is.’

James and Sirius leapt to their feet.

‘Where?’ demanded James.

‘With Riddle.’

Remus watched the blood drain from both their faces. He had never felt so useless in his life.

The sight of the gate to the Lestrange Manor brought none of them comfort. Regulus, Evan, Gellert and Kreacher all stood in the shadows across the street, hidden from view by the branches of the great trees that lined the road.

‘Shall we then?’ asked Evan.

‘Ugh,’ said Regulus.

‘It’ll be fine.’ Gellert sounded almost cheerful. He played a remarkably good Remus, right down to the frayed robes. ‘Kreacher,’ he asked, peering down at the elf, ‘is Nori in place?’

Kreacher nodded. ‘She’ll be ready, Mr Gellert, sir.’

‘Good.’

Gellert’s eyes slanted to Regulus. ‘Are you all right?’

With a forceful exhalation, Regulus nodded. ‘Let’s just get through tonight.’

‘That’s the spirit.’

Bellatrix was on the front step, gazing up at the stars when they wandered up. She draped an arm around Regulus’ shoulders and steered him into the house, promising to catch up with him after dinner.

The Dark Lord stood in the library with several Death Eaters. Nagini slept in a corner by the window, coiled in around herself. Regulus had to resist the urge to glance at the others to see if they noticed her also.

‘Ah, Regulus.’ Voldemort walked over and kissed him on the cheek. His flesh felt cold and unnaturally papery and Regulus swallowed his shudder. ‘My dear boy, how are you? Left Hogwarts to join us early?’

‘I had no desire to remain,’ said Regulus. ‘And James and I broke up. Again.’

Voldemort laughed. ‘Young love. I will never understand it. Does he still mean to join us after his exams?’

‘He does.’ This from Gellert, wearing Remus’ face. ‘In a few weeks.’

‘Did you likewise drop out?’

‘No. I’ll be going back tonight.’

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. ‘You must be the werewolf.’

Evan’s eyes cut to Regulus, but he kept his face expressionless.

‘Remus,’ said Gellert, sounding exactly like Remus. He held out his hand and shook Voldemort’s. ‘Wolf I may be, but my blood is as pure as anyone’s here.’

Regulus knew it was a dig, but he wasn’t sure Voldemort realised Gellert knew the truth and was openly mocking him. He barely battled down the urge to kick Gellert for baiting him.

‘I hope you will find our cause to your liking.’ The way Voldemort said that sent a chill down Regulus’ spine.

Gellert’s smile was downright wicked. ‘I’m certain I made the right decision, I assure you.’

‘And Evan.’ Voldemort had finally acknowledged his presence. ‘It’s good to see you have taken my advice and mended things with Regulus. Perhaps now that James Potter is no longer occupying his attention, you’ll have a chance.’

Regulus wondered why it was none of them ever talked about how much of a catty bitch Tom Riddle was.

Before Evan could reply, the window exploded with such force that it sent them all flying to the other side of the room. Regulus almost ate a table leg and only just managed to turn his face away. One by one every window in the manor exploded.

Regulus stood with ringing ears and cuts all over his body from glass shrapnel.

‘Nagini!’ Voldemort strode over to where she had been resting but the great snake had vanished. ‘Nagini!’

He vaulted out of the window and strode into the night.

Bellatrix hurried after him and, seeing no other option, Regulus and the others followed. The next several hours passed combing the estate for signs of Nagini before Voldemort conceded that she was indeed gone and likely had been taken.

His cold, quiet fury and promise of retribution terrified Regulus to witness.

When Regulus, Evan, Gellert and Kreacher finally returned return to 12 Grimmauld Place, it was past dawn the following day and all of them were exhausted.

They found Nagini in the kitchen, suspended in midair by Nori. She kept hissing and snapping, trying to bite her way through the spell.

‘Let’s get this done,’ said Gellert, already rolling up his sleeves.

Regulus went to the cauldron in the corner. The potion inside was an unsettling pale green. Drawing a kitchen knife, he cut a line down the centre of his palm and let his blood drip into the cauldron. The potion turned a horrible yellow.

‘Oh, lovely,’ said Evan.

Gellert bottled a serving, pushed the stopper in, and handed the phial to Regulus. ‘Care to do the honours?’

Regulus had never liked the idea of throwing a potion at someone – it just seemed a bit rude – but when drinking wasn’t an option, throwing was necessary.

Nori let Nagini onto the ground and, as the great snake raised her head and lunged at him, Regulus threw the potion at her.

The smell hit Regulus full in the face – like rotted flowers and blood – but as the cloud of yellow smoke cleared, a young woman stood where the snake had been. Naked. Shivering.

He was still staring at Nagini, slightly amazed that it had actually worked, when Gellert came up behind her and covered her mouth and nose with his hand.

‘Wh—’ Regulus swallowed his outcry. This was the plan. But seeing it was much, much harder than talking about it.

It took far too many agonising minutes for Nagini to slump in Gellert’s arms.

Regulus sprinted to her side.

The next seconds were the longest of his life: Gellert performed a spell that restarted her heart; Nagini then jerked violently, curled in on herself, and vomited.

Regulus summoned a blanket from the sitting room and draped it around her thin, shivering shoulders. ‘Are you all right?’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry we had to do that. We wanted to free you.’

Still turned away from him, Nagini reached back and grasped his hand. ‘Thank you,’ she croaked, voice weak and raspy from disuse. She tightened her grip. ‘Thank you.’

Regulus stayed at her side, but his attention drifted back up to Gellert. ‘Remus needs to know what happened before someone asks him about it and he puts his foot in his mouth.’

‘I’ll handle it,’ said Gellert, bowing his head and disappearing down the hall.

Evan clapped his hands together. ‘I’m making tea.’

‘Good idea,’ said Regulus.

He remained on his knees, holding Nagini’s hair back from the mess of vomit on the ground with the hand she wasn’t clutching onto like a lifeline.

It took Sirius, Remus and Peter’s combined efforts to haul James out of bed and get him ready for Quidditch practise, but somehow they managed it. Sirius then all but frog-marched him down to the pitch while Remus and Peter dressed, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

When Remus reached the Great Hall with Peter a little after eight o’clock in the morning, Barty and Marlene were waiting for them outside the double doors.

Barty grinned at Remus and walked over. ‘I’m impressed you’re even walking after the night you lot had.’

Remus raised an eyebrow. ‘You know?’

‘She wrote this morning.’

Not entirely up to date himself, Remus maintained a neutral expression. ‘It was certainly eventful,’ he said vaguely, figuring that covered a variety of outcomes.

‘Did he find her?’

Before Remus could even attempt to guess who he was talking about, Sirius appeared as if from nowhere at his side. He was wearing a coat Remus had never seen and his smile was just a little off.

‘Honestly, I reckon she’s dead,’ said Sirius in a low voice. ‘Who’s going to keep a great big snake?’

‘Perhaps someone with Parseltongue needs to find her.’

‘Lucky for Voldemort, he’s the only one.’ Sirius tilted his head to the side, his expression drawn to anyone who wasn’t Remus, who could see the mockery in his every blink.

‘For now,’ said Barty.

Rather than elaborate, Barty nodded to them and wandered off.

‘That was weird,’ said Peter. He glanced at Sirius. ‘Weren’t you at Quidditch?’

‘Heading back.’ Sirius winked at him before clapping Remus on the back and sauntering down the corridor.

Remus stared after him as Peter and Marlene shuffled into the Great Hall. He was the only one in the corridor when Sirius turned around, flashed a peace sign, and transformed without missing a step.

It was Gellert Grindelwald.

He was gone before Remus could demand answers.

Chapter Text

The first full day Nagini was in their company, Regulus and Evan woke up early and put together a breakfast of all their favourite comfort foods – which, they quickly realised, was quite a lot of mismatched pastries, crisps, cakes, pastas, salads and breads. The kitchen soon smelled like a hundred chefs with different culinary talents had all started cooking at once. But the normalcy of the silliness felt snatched from the jaws of battle and even Regulus found himself laughing when Evan turned up the rock music he was now decidedly fond of and enchanted all the cutlery to dance around the kitchen to Led Zeppelin.

While they cooked, Kreacher and Nori turned the dining room into a lounge of sorts, with pillows and blankets covering the ground. They transfigured the table into an enormous springy mattress that took up the length of the room and by the time everyone was downstairs and breakfast was ready, the dining room looked more like a den of rainbows made out of pillows and blankets.

Everyone crawled in their socks across the piles of cushions and made themselves comfortable in the haphazard mountain of squishiness.

‘I love this,’ said Evan, shoving an entire mini muffin into his mouth as he leaned back on a stack of pillows like some sort of ancient sultan. He wore pyjama trousers and a Slytherin t-shirt and looked wholly at ease for the first time in a while.

Gellert, too, looked cheerful. He had claimed a beanbag to himself and was all but shovelling Regulus’ homemade macaroni and cheese into his mouth. Beside him, Kreacher and Nori fed each other teacakes with such loved-up, enraptured expressions that Regulus couldn’t look at them without wanting to ‘aww’.

‘Do you like it?’ Regulus asked Nagini, who had arrived last with Leta floating along beside her. She wore long socks up to her knees, Sirius’ old boxer shorts and one of Regulus’ torn shirts. The baggy, aged clothes made her look even smaller than she already was and Regulus felt a strange urge to protect her, despite knowing her less than forty hours. That she still looked young was something he was curious about, too, though he hadn’t yet asked if she knew the reason her aging had stalled. After all, it wasn’t like werewolves stayed young, nor Animagi. Yet Nagini, who had been born decades ago, was even less changed than Gellert.

‘I love it,’ she said, sitting down on a large cushion and all but inhaling one of the chocolate éclairs that Evan had made.

‘Good.’ Seeing her adjust so easily to human life, not to mention fitting in so well with the group, made Regulus feel almost light with relief. He knew what it was to feel alone, abandoned and forgotten about, and he never wanted Nagini to feel like that again.

‘I missed eating proper human food,’ she added, licking the cream from her fingers. ‘I never want to eat rat again.’

Behind Nagini, Leta and Evan exchanged looks of appalled sympathy.

‘Can I ask …’ Regulus set his plate of French toast aside and crossed his legs under him as he mulled over his question.

‘What?’ She waved at him to continue.

‘Do you know why you were cursed?’

Tucking her long black hair behind her ears, Nagini shook her head slowly. ‘No. It was done to the women in my family. I don’t know why. An incurable blood curse that’s passed from mother to daughter. It’s why I never wanted children.’

‘Until now.’

Nagini looked over at Gellert. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Your cure isn’t just a fix for the blood curse. It cured your bloodline. Any children you have now will be free of it.’

She stared at him. ‘Do you mean it?’

Gellert nodded. ‘There was an old wizard who cast the curse on several women in the 1800s. I believe one of them was your great, great grandmother. She rejected his offer of marriage and he cursed her. And all her daughters. He did it to about fifteen women, if I recall.’

Nagini was watching him with wide, enraptured eyes. ‘Where did you learn this?’

‘He came to me.’ Gellert smirked at the man’s foolhardiness. ‘Told me he could show me how to curse any woman who rejected me. He wanted to trade the spell for one that I had – one that could keep him safe from the wrath of the women he cursed.’

‘Did you?’ asked Evan.

‘I had fewer morals then, I won’t deny it, but cursing someone for not loving you was heinous to me even then. Cursing someone for not bedding you is disgusting. I killed him after he showed me the curse and how to break it.’ He glanced back at Nagini. ‘I’m sorry that you won’t get more answers from him. If it’s of any consolation, I still had his body when a woman came searching for him after he had cursed her daughter. I gave his corpse to her. To do with as she saw fit.’

Dark, vengeful sounds of approval slipped from Leta, Evan and Regulus in tandem.

‘Good,’ said Leta fiercely. ‘I hope she fed it to her pigs.’

Gellert chuckled before returning his attention to Nagini. ‘He’s gone and you’re cured. It’s not much after decades of imprisonment with a mad fucker’s soul, but I hope it helps.’

‘It helps,’ she whispered. ‘So much.’

‘I’m glad.’

Tears pooled in Nagini’s dark eyes and she broke Gellert’s gaze to look down at her plate of breakfast pastries. Her head bowed, Regulus could still see a smile dimpling her cheeks.

‘Thank you,’ he mouthed silently to Gellert.

Gellert winked.

My love,

This is my fifth letter. Please respond.

I know how it looked. I know what I said is unforgivable. But you have to know that it wasn’t my choice. Someone gave us a love potion. I don’t know who, but Dumbledore is looking into it. Please just give me a chance to explain everything.

I am so, so sorry you saw that.

I swear it was not my choice.

Yours always,
James

Regulus,

I’m guessing you didn’t read the last letter.

It’s not what you think. It was a love potion.

Please talk to me.

I love you.

James

Regulus,

It’d be really great if you’d reply to me and give me the chance to explain myself. You’re being incredibly unfair.

James

Regulus,

I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!

James

Regulus,

Fuck you.

James

James shoved this last, unsent letter aside and onto the floor furiously, unintentionally sending everything on his desk clattering to the ground on top of it. The first dozen letters had all gone unanswered and he had a feeling Regulus was not reading them. Begrudgingly, he would admit that he’d likely do the same. But it wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything wrong and being stuck in Hogwarts, unable to confront Regulus and explain his side, frustrated James to no end.

At least forty times a day he considered walking out of Hogwarts for good. Only Sirius, Remus and Peter’s constant reminders that he was so close to graduating, that throwing away his future – even for Regulus – was foolish, kept him inside the castle grounds.

Grinding his teeth together, James’ eyes flicked involuntarily to the photograph he’d put up on his bedside table after Christmas. His parents had taken it during the holidays, after they’d gifted Regulus the Hogsmeade house. He, Regulus, Sirius and Remus were standing in the snow, their arms around each other, faces bright and open with laughter. Just the sight of it made his heart ache.

In seconds he was walking out of the dormitory, donning his invisibility cloak. Peter and Marlene were by the fire with Frank, Alice, Arthur and Molly. Mary was curled up beside Lily, French braiding her hair. (Remus and Sirius had snuck out hours ago for a date in Hogsmeade.) The sight looked so peaceful and James wished he felt the urge to join in. But he didn’t want to do anything without Regulus. Everything felt pointless and uninteresting without him.

James slipped through the portrait hole and all but ran down the stairs to the entrance hall. He passed Peeves and the Bloody Baron on his way out of the castle but encountered no issues. Leaving the cloak in the Shrieking Shack, he transformed into Prongs and took off into the trees behind the derelict building.

He ran towards the heart of the forest and did not stop until his legs burned and it was difficult to breathe.

Voldemort summoned Regulus to assist in the search for Nagini several times in the weeks that followed her disappearance from the manor, and each time Regulus arrived at Bella’s house with his heart in his throat. Gellert came along as backup wearing Remus’ face – even fielding a meeting with Mr Avery on the second visit about recruiting werewolves to the cause – for which Regulus was deeply grateful.

To everyone’s relief, Voldemort didn’t seem any the wiser as to what had transpired, though Regulus had a feeling they were all being scrutinised. It was clear, however, that the Dark Lord was irate. A fear that seemed to have seized his closest as well. Lucius, Rabastan, Mikhail Rosier and even Bellatrix all hovered around him each time Regulus arrived at the manor, tense and snappish and eyeing each other suspiciously. Narcissa, who was around more often than not, watched both her husband and her sister with a fear she dared share only with Regulus, who couldn’t help but agree. And despite his general feelings towards Bella, Regulus also found his worry increasing for his cousin with every visit. Where she had seemed to glow in the first weeks of her pregnancy, now she seemed much too gaunt.

Near the end of April, after Voldemort dismissed them following another fruitless search through a wizarding estate in Northern Ireland – thankfully empty – Regulus waved Gellert off home and brought Bellatrix into the kitchen of the large manor.

‘Sit,’ he said, pushing her gently towards a chair. ‘You need to eat and I know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.’

‘Tuesday, actually.’

He stared at her. ‘Bella, it’s Thursday.’

‘I forgot.’

Summoning the supplies he needed, Regulus turned on the stove and then set about making her something healthy to eat.

‘We have house elves for that,’ she muttered. ‘Though they keep disappearing in droves. I think they’ve worked out how to free themselves.’

‘Oh?’ said Regulus innocently. ‘Interesting.’

‘Maddening.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Your cooking’s better anyways.’

Pointedly ignoring her bigotry – though it took a concerted effort – Regulus cut up an apple and passed her the slices in a bowl. ‘Why aren’t you eating?’

She shrugged. ‘I forget. You and Barty are sometimes the only ones to remind me most days.’

He appraised her with a dark concern. Since he’d learned of her pregnancy, she had actually lost weight. ‘You have to remember to eat,’ he admonished gently. ‘You’re eating for two now.’

Her left hand moved to her stomach, though her brow furrowed with an oddly conflicted cast. ‘The cause is important.’

‘Not more important than your child.’

He squeezed her arm before setting to the task of making her an enormous vegetable omelette. Trying to cover all his bases, he added three colours of bell peppers, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, onion, slices of chicken and grated cheese. He set it in front of her minutes later, along with several squares of buttered toast, and watched her eat with near brotherly concern.

It wasn’t lost on him that he hadn’t eaten in over a day either, but he rationalised the hypocrisy by reassuring himself that even though his coping mechanisms – not sleeping, stress smoking and skipping meals – were all habits he could do with breaking and hardly healthy, he at least wasn’t responsible for anyone else.

Bella ate a few bites and complimented his talents in the kitchen profusely, but mostly she stabbed at her plate. Then, abruptly, she set her fork down and went still. Her lower lip began to tremble and she bit it hard, trying to stop herself from crying.

Regulus stared at her. His crazy, blood-thirsty, semi-psychotic cousin suddenly looked so small and vulnerable that he wanted to wrap his arms around her and offer to keep her safe. An offer which, if he made it in earshot of anyone else, she’d probably stab him for even suggesting.

‘Bells?’ he murmured, leaning across the counter. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I messed up,’ she whispered, far closer to breaking down than he could have ever imagined from her. She hadn’t even cried when she’d snapped her arm in half falling out of a tree one summer when Regulus was little.

‘How?’

‘The Dark Lord entrusted me with something and I let it get stolen. He’s furious with me.’

‘I very much doubt you let anything be stolen.’

‘He doesn’t see it that way. Nor should he. I failed him.’

Regulus took her hand. ‘No one is more dedicated to him than you, Bells. He knows that.’

‘He says he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to trust me again.’ Tears fell from her dark eyes and she wiped hurriedly at her cheeks. Her normally perfectly manicured fingernails were chipped and two of her fake nails were missing entirely. It was so unlike her that his concern only mounted.

‘We will learn who the spy is,’ he whispered, squeezing her hand. ‘And the Dark Lord will forgive you. You’re his second, Bella. No one else could compare. Not even me. It’s you and him. You know that. You’re carrying his heir. No one else.’

She looked heartened by his words and managed to eat the rest of the omelette and drank the glass of orange juice he put in front of her.

Regulus stayed with her, worried for her and her baby’s health, and feeling terribly strange the entire time.

The uncomfortable, confusing, awful part of betraying his own family was both hating and loving them at the same time – and despite everything. It was something Sirius had never understood, but when Regulus told Evan about Bella later that night, his best friend nodded with sad understanding.

‘I’ll check on her,’ said Evan. ‘She’s a crazy bitch, but her kid should be born healthy.’

Regulus, who had been smoking by the window, raked his hand through his hair and clenched at the roots. ‘Do you think he abuses her?’

Evan hesitated before replying. ‘It … wouldn’t surprise me. He even abused Nagini, and she held his soul.’

‘I might write to Barty.’

‘And say what?’

‘That Bella’s working herself too hard and could do with a bit of company.’

Evan bowed his head, sending his blonde hair cascading into his eyes. ‘Yeah, sounds good. He already loves that child, too.’

‘Sometimes I think the only one of the three of them who actually does is him.’ Regulus scoffed sadly. ‘Merlin, we cannot bring a child into the Death Eaters.’

‘She’s not the first Death Eater to have a baby.’

‘She’s the first Death Eater to have Tom Riddle’s baby.’

Evan tilted his head to the side. ‘There’s a thought. We know he hates his name. Do you think the kid is going to use Voldemort as a surname? Or is Voldemort a first name?’

Regulus stared at him for several seconds before bursting into low laughter. ‘I – I have no idea.’

‘Little Tom Voldemort.’

‘Oh, Merlin.’

Evan snickered. ‘Lord Voldemort, Jr.’

‘Perhaps Bella will be progressive about it. Use her own last name.’

‘Black is the better name,’ agreed Evan, winking at him. ‘Tom Black.’

‘That’s kind of cute, actually.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ Evan lit a new cigarette and leaned back against the wall, exhaling a cloud of smoke. ‘I hope we kill him before he ever meets the kid.’

The words felt strange. No matter how much Regulus agreed, it felt wretched to conspire to kill a man whose child was not yet born.

He looked out the window. London was brightly lit, even so late at night. Couples with their arms around each other stumbled home, giddy with drink and eager to get out of the drizzling rain. Regulus’ mind flitted to James and pain spread through his chest like poison. Was James with Lily now? Was he writing to Regulus to apologise and break up with him? Was Sirius trying to explain it all away?

Rationally Regulus knew he should open the letters, but his fear of what they said stilled his hand every single time.

‘Do you ever think about it?’

He glanced back at Evan. ‘What?’

‘Children.’

Regulus shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think I’m father material.’

‘Nor I.’

They laughed ruefully.

Evan wandered over and joined him by the window. ‘It’s going to be a long summer.’

‘It’s already been a long summer and it’s not even May.’

‘True.’

They smoked in silence, both wondering where the summer would lead them and both praying it went better than they feared.

The conversation with Bellatrix should have been a warning that Voldemort was going to be reinforcing the protections on all his horcruxes. Still, Regulus was somewhat taken aback when, a week later, Voldemort summoned Kreacher to him. Alone.

Regulus paced anxiously around the kitchen the entire afternoon. No one else could relax, either.

‘Tom is panicking,’ said Gellert. ‘He knows someone’s on to him.’

‘If he’s checking horcrux after horcrux,’ said Regulus, lighting a joint and trying to source some measure of calm, ‘then we’ll have to follow him. He could lead us right to them.’

Gellert nodded.

‘This could be over before we know it,’ said Evan from where he sat at the table, stress-polishing already polished silver for the tenth time.

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ said Leta. ‘For all we know, he might start making more now that he knows we’re on to him.’

‘Oh, please, no,’ Evan groaned. ‘This fucker is exhausting.’

The thought of having to track down even more horcruxes before the war could end made Regulus almost have a panic attack and he shoved the suggestion to the back of his mind to fret over later. He then forced a nonchalant snort that he hoped would at least hearten the others.

‘I mean,’ he said with forced optimism, ‘at some point he’ll just be a dark phantom. He already looks inhuman. His skin doesn’t feel real.’

‘I’m almost impressed he can reproduce,’ said Evan.

‘Please let’s not go there,’ said Leta in disgust. ‘I might be dead, but it turns my stomach.’

‘Sorry. But I do feel a bit bad for Barty. The woman he’s mad after would rather be with a bloke who feels like stone cold paper and smells like ice.’

‘Ice?’

Evan nodded. ‘You know when the snow’s about to hit and every breath feels like it’s sharp and painful and is going to knife your lungs a little bit? That’s what he smells like. He’s so far from human even now that he’s more like ice and stone. Kind of sad, really.’

Regulus took another drag from the joint and checked his watch. ‘Kreacher’s been gone two hours already.’

‘He would return if something was wrong,’ said Nori bracingly. But she, too, looked anxious for Kreacher’s return.

Everyone exchanged grim looks.

The last time James had failed an essay so completely was in his fifth year when he and Sirius fell out over his betrayal of Remus’ secret to Severus. This time, he had no one to blame but a faceless person Dumbledore still had not identified. The drinks had all been brought by the students and there was no real way to trace who had supplied what. They were at a dead end – after all, students couldn’t be interrogated and everyone at the party denied wrongdoing.

He glared at the uncomfortably long note Professor Clatterhorn had written at the top of his essay offering him a chance to redo it, as it was ‘so out of character’ the professor was ‘genuinely concerned’. If he hadn’t been currently torturing himself with the thought of Evan seducing Regulus after a Death Eater meeting, he might have laughed. As it was, he would have preferred sticking a fork in his eye.

‘Here,’ said Peter kindly, pulling James from his waking nightmare by handing him a stack of notes. ‘Redo the paper and turn it in Friday.’

James took the notes with a tight smile. ‘Cheers, Pete.’

Remus and Sirius were waiting in the corridor for them and the four set off towards the Great Hall for lunch.

‘You all right?’ asked Remus in a low voice, falling in beside him.

‘No,’ he grunted.

‘I wrote again.’

‘And I’m sure he’ll ignore it like all the rest.’

Remus sighed. ‘Regulus’ biggest insecurity is that he’s not enough. Not for you, not for Sirius. I attacked him and he still worries how I view him. I’m certain he even doubts he deserves Evan.’

Sirius snorted derisively.

Remus shot his boyfriend a pointed scowl. ‘He has no sense of self-worth. He won’t consider that there’s some nefarious magical reasoning that forced James to cheat on him. To Regulus, I’m sure it makes complete sense. He doesn’t believe he’s a better option than Lily. He knows James was in love with her for years.’ Remus scratched the back of his head before he gestured to James. ‘I reckon he’s worked it out in his head that Lily realised you were the one that got away and you were delighted to have her back.’

James gaped at him. ‘I was over Lily before Regulus and I started our whole pretend dating charade.’

‘Reason doesn’t hold any weight in the face of insecurity, Prongs.’ Remus shrugged and held out his hand in open question. ‘To him, he has the proof he was fearing – that you’d find someone better. I don’t think you’ll convince him until you see him in person. So, just take a deep breath. We’re almost to the end of term.’

‘Not near enough,’ James muttered.

Kreacher finally returned five hours after the Dark Lord summoned him. He appeared in the middle of the kitchen and collapsed in Regulus’ arms. His whole body shook horribly and he was pale with shock. A sheen of sweat coated his skin and he was clawing at his throat.

‘Water! Kreacher needs water!’

Regulus, Evan and Gellert all summoned glasses of water in tandem. Yet no amount of water soothed his wretched thirst. Kreacher kept begging for more, flinching at shadows, shying away from their presence no matter how much Regulus tried to soothe him.

It took nearly two hours for Kreacher to let Nori close, and another hour after that for him to calm down enough to stop begging for water and tell them through gasping breaths what had happened with Voldemort.

‘The – the Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave,’ he croaked, still blinking rapidly. ‘There’s – there’s a horcrux there. The Dark – Dark Lord made Kreacher drink – drink a dark potion. He left Kreacher for – for dead.’

‘That’s what made you thirsty?’ Gellert deduced.

‘Yes.’

Regulus swallowed his fury and forced himself to smile reassuringly at his friend. ‘Can I see?’

Kreacher nodded.

Regulus had only just extracted the memory when Kreacher slumped in a dead faint.

‘Kreacher! Kreacher!’

Kreacher did not respond.

Despite Regulus’ initial panic, Kreacher was only unconscious and the effects of whatever he’d been forced to take were not permanent. Gellert’s healing potion revived Kreacher and after a few hours of sleep and a well prepared meal by Nori, he was able to join them in the kitchen by which time Regulus and Gellert had both viewed the memory. It wasn’t wholly clear what had happened, but they at least had a way in. Kreacher’s memories distorted after he drank the potion but everything up to that point was clear enough and they had more than enough to make a plan of action.

‘If he’s placed it under a poisonous potion, I’ll bet it can’t be summoned,’ said Gellert, lighting a cigarette and sticking it between his lips. Smoke trailed out of his mouth as he spoke. ‘It might trigger a counter curse.’

Evan grimaced. ‘Like the cave collapsing?’

‘Possibly.’

Regulus raked his fingers through his hair as he thought. The possibilities of what could go wrong were not enticing, but they had few options and the clock was ticking. ‘We have to get rid of the two we know of,’ he said at last. ‘Right now. He’s locking them down. We’d be fucked if we didn’t have Kreacher and know about the elf loophole in wizard curses and wards.’

‘The diary is still in Albus’ office,’ said Gellert. ‘For now it’s safe.’

‘But if we’re this close, leaving it is stupid. We could find the last one next week. We can’t wait.’

‘You’re right.’

Regulus worried his lower lip, rotating Slytherin’s ring around his forefinger as his anxiety mounted. ‘The Gaunt ring was one,’ he muttered, thinking aloud. ‘Nagini was two. The locket in the cave is three. The diary is four.’

‘This is the worst drinking game ever,’ Evan moaned. He’d developed deep circles under his pale blue eyes and looked more tired than ever. ‘Do we even know how many there are?’

‘My guess is he has seven,’ said Gellert.

‘It’s definitely seven.’ Nagini, who had been standing silently in the corner of the kitchen until that point, now drew everyone’s focus. ‘He’s obsessed with superstitions, luck, auspicious portents and traditions. I think his lack of a foundation growing up created an unfillable void within him.’

Evan held out his hands. ‘Everyone in this room has parental issues and trauma. He can join the fucking queue.’

‘I know there is at least one in Hogwarts,’ said Nagini, twisting her long hair into a knot that instantly came undone and sent her long black tresses cascading over her thin shoulders like a cloak. ‘I believe he entrusted another to Bellatrix Black.’

‘I wonder how much she knows,’ Gellert mused.

‘I’d wager a lot more than we do,’ said Regulus. He rubbed his jaw, heart hammering. ‘So is that six? Diary, ring, locket, Nagini, one in Hogwarts, one with Bella?’ He counted off on his fingers as he went. He kept losing track.

‘Could the seventh piece be himself?’ Leta wondered aloud. ‘I mean, that means he’s dividing his soul seven times.’

Gellert pointed his cigarette at her, brow furrowed. ‘Good point.’

‘Then he’s likely going to Bellatrix next to reinforce the wards on the final piece, if he hasn’t already,’ said Regulus. He drummed his fingers on the table, his heart thrumming with anxiety in his chest. ‘Or, wait, hang on. Would hers not be the diary we found on the Lestrange estate? Or do you think he entrusted her with two? He trusted my mother, so perhaps he put one on the Lestrange Estate and maybe there’s one in one of the Black family ones. We’ve got estates up and down the country and in France. Bella’s parents live in one, my mum’s brother lives in another, my great uncle has the Oxford house, and I know one of our cousins has the chateau in France.’

‘The chateau?’ Gellert’s lips twitched and it was clear he was trying very hard not to tease Regulus about his family’s ridiculous wealth.

Nagini frowned. ‘Oh. I’m – I’m not sure. Sorry.’

‘It’s all right. We have so much more than we had yesterday.’ Regulus nodded to himself, the plan forming in his mind. ‘Evan, go with Gellert back to Hogwarts. Tonight. Take Nagini. While Gellert handles the diary, you two try and find the one he hid inside the castle. Some of the ghosts might be willing to help.’

‘You can’t go into that cave alone,’ said Evan.

‘I’m not going alone,’ said Regulus. ‘But we have to act now. We don’t have the luxury of time now that he’s on to us. If something goes wrong—’

‘Kreacher and Nori can help,’ cut in Kreacher. He still looked tired and he’d been nursing a glass of water throughout the whole conversation but courage had not dimmed within him. ‘Kreacher will take Master Regulus back to the cave and Nori will go to Hogwarts. If something goes wrong, Kreacher and Nori can alert the other groups.’

‘You can communicate like that?’ Even Gellert looked surprised.

‘The same way Kreacher can hear the calls of his Master, Kreacher can also hear Nori’s calls,’ said Kreacher, as if that explained anything.

Evan moved to Regulus’ side and leaned in. ‘I want to go with you.’

‘Nagini needs backup,’ said Regulus firmly. ‘We have to do this, Evan. This might be our only chance.’

‘I don’t want you going into that cave alone.’

‘Kreacher is going with me.’

‘Regulus—’