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Chapter Text

Regulus wondered, not for the first time, why it was so taxing to use his powers. What was the point of being the son of one of the Big Three if every time he used his powers he ended up in tatters?

He was lying on the floor in a forest near his house, after trying—and succeeding, thank the gods—to shadow-travel. Barty and Evan caught up with him and helped him up. That’s something they can do now, apparently.

He still remembered the first time he saw them. How could he not? It was the moment he was claimed by Hades—his father. That day, five-year-old Regulus had been sitting in the living room, quietly messing around with a black stone he had found in the garden. He remembered dropping the stone, the annoyance on his father’s face, the fear in his brother’s, and the fury in his mother’s as she got up, ready to strike, no doubt.

Before she could, the stone shattered into a thousand pieces, and Walburga froze mid-step. Suddenly, the fire in the fireplace extinguished, and something began burning itself into the rug in front of little Regulus. It was a helm.

His mother had been delighted—after all, this was everything she had ever wanted. They had thought Sirius was it, but he had never been claimed. And Regulus… he didn’t even know where Sirius was now, if he was still alive.

Anyway, just as the helm appeared, so did two other people, talking about how Hades had sent them to keep an eye on him—or something like that. He was five. Turns out those people were Evan and Barty, spirits who hadn't reached the Elysium Fields but who Hades was apparently fond of. Instead of sending them to the Asphodel Meadows, he sent them to him.

At the beginning, Regulus could only see them sometimes and never touch them. But with time, he had learned to see them whenever he liked—and now he could touch them too. No one else could see them, but Regulus was so very grateful for them. They were his only friends, especially after his brother left.

“I think that’s enough training for today,” Evan said. “You’re getting better, Reg.”

He had been training long hours lately, at the insistence of his friends. He didn’t know what the rush was, but every time he asked, they said it was just precaution. Maybe it was just that. After all, Regulus was about to participate in a weird ritual held by his family.

The Black family had always been obsessed with procreating with gods and raising the strongest children. Obviously, they had a preference for Hades—not straying too far from the family vibe.

His father—or rather, his adoptive father—Orion, was a demigod who married a human, Walburga, to have demigod children.

The firstborn was Sirius. They were convinced he was the child of a powerful god, but no one ever claimed him, and he never showed any powers. Then came Regulus, and he was claimed by Hades—their parents' dream. Sirius was then completely forgotten, unless he showed some kind of disrespect, which was often.

Regulus had always thought his brother was the bravest person ever. He was lighthearted and witty, and although he was constantly punished for it, he kept going, never changing who he was. Oh, how he missed him. He would never allow this stupid ritual to happen.

When Regulus turned eighteen, he would have to partake in a ritual of heritage, to "strengthen the family line," as he was constantly reminded. He didn’t like it, but whatever. It wouldn’t kill him, and he didn’t want to antagonize his parents.

It had always seemed so far away, but now… Regulus was turning eighteen tomorrow.

An uneasy feeling followed him into sleep that night, tossing and turning until he woke up from a nightmare with a sudden gasp. He had been dreaming about his brother—again—but it wasn’t a good dream—again.

Sirius and he were playing with an old leather ball his brother had found lying around, but Regulus got too excited and kicked it right into an ancient vase. Heavy footsteps echoed through the halls, and Walburga entered the room, her eyes flicking around in search of a culprit. Sirius didn’t miss a beat before affirming it was him, and before Regulus even knew what was happening, she was dragging his brother away by the hair.

Regulus followed, and he saw Walburga toss Sirius into an enchanted wardrobe, locking him inside before walking away. He could hear whispers from beyond the door.

Weak. You’re alone. Failure. Unlovable.

Regulus sobbed as he tried desperately to open the door. “No, no. I love you. You’re not alone. I love you. I love you…”

The vision melted away as his bedroom door opened—and his mother was there.

"Get ready. We're waiting for you."

He got up and started dressing. As soon as he was decent, he called for Evan and Barty.

"Looking good, Reggie," Barty winked. Evan shot him an unimpressed look. "But not as good as the light of my life, the owner of my heart, Mr. Evan Rosier here."

"Shut it, Barty." Evan rolled his eyes before turning to Regulus with a gentler expression. "Reg, how are you feeling about today? Remember, we’ll be right by your side if you need help—or anything else we can do."

Evan was looking at him with worried eyes.

"Thank you, guys, but I’ll be fine." Regulus opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. "Let’s get this over with."

They went down several flights of stairs into a dark, cold cave, with a coffin standing in the middle and all the Blacks surrounding it. Creepy, even for him.

"Regulus, step into the coffin and lie down."

Okay. Straight to business, then. What happened to the ‘hi, hello’? ‘Happy birthday’, maybe?

He approached the side of the coffin. It was weird. He could feel an energy radiating from it, and it was dark. Not Hades dark , if you asked him, darker.

He wondered if it was too late to back down. Probably. He didn’t dare say anything. As he lowered himself into the coffin, he caught sight of Evan and Barty’s somber faces. Not helpful, guys, he thought grimly.

Everyone around him started reciting some kind of incantation, and the runes engraved into the coffin began to glow. Suddenly, Regulus heard a voice inside his head.
Finally, it said. I have been waiting for you, little hero.

This didn’t feel right. In fact, it felt really, really wrong. He felt his energy slipping away, his thoughts beginning to muffle—it was getting hard to remember what was happening. He wanted out.

"Stop. Stop this, I don’t want to do it!"

No one listened, of course, and panic began to overtake him.

Fuck. What had he gotten himself into?

"Regulus, can you hear us?" It was barely a murmur.

"Barty? Evan? Help me, please." Regulus was panicking more and more, but his family continued chanting.

Pain shot through his forearm as a mark began burning itself into his skin—a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth. His heart pounded against his ribs, faster and faster, like it was trying to claw its way out. Cold sweat dripped down his temple. His hands shook uncontrollably. His vision blurred at the edges.

"Regulus, you have to focus. Use your powers. You are strong enough."

He could hear Evan now, his voice cracking—not the calm reassurance he usually offered, but desperation . He thought he caught a glimpse of Evan, translucent and flickering, slamming his fists against an invisible barrier, his mouth forming words Regulus couldn't hear.

Barty was shouting too, his voice hoarse and frantic, hammering against whatever kept them apart.

Okay. Focus.
He could do that, couldn’t he?
Shadow-travel. It could work. It had to work.

Thinking of the first place that came to mind, he gathered every ounce of energy left inside him. Darkness pooled at his feet, rising, swirling—and he drifted away into the shadows, leaving behind the ritual, the coffin, the burning mark—and the only life he had ever known.

Chapter Text

Remus had just stepped out from his shift at the library when he heard it.
A shout.

"Hey, you. Boy."

He kept walking. Glanced back. Two men were approaching.

Please, not again.

And they looked human. Great.

They caught up with him quickly. Remus turned around, trying to keep his heartbeat steady. He couldn’t afford to get nervous.

"Give us everything you have."

"I don’t have anything," he said, and it was true. Maybe a few dollars in his pocket, but that was it. He didn’t carry a phone anymore—learned the hard way it was just asking for trouble. Not that he had much to protect.

One of the men stepped closer.

"I wouldn’t if I were you," Remus warned.

"Oh, the cat has claws. How endearing," the man sneered.

If only he knew, Remus thought bitterly.

"Come on, boy. We don’t have all day."

Now both were stepping toward him. One of them pulled a knife.

Remus snapped. He transformed.

Now they were the ones afraid.

The wolf could smell it—sharp and sour.

He lunged at the first one, teeth sinking into the man’s shoulder, skin tearing under the pressure, blood spilling into his mouth.

The second man shrieked and ran, his footsteps echoing into the night.

The wolf let the limp body fall. Blood dripped from his muzzle as he disappeared into the shadows.

He didn’t stop until he found a quiet place, empty and dark. He collapsed onto the cold ground, chest heaving. Moments later, the wolf was gone, and in its place lay a boy, curled in on himself, breathing hard, shaking from more than exhaustion.

It was always like this.

Someone—usually monsters, sometimes humans—would attack. He’d lose control. And then someone ended up torn to pieces.

It was fine when it was monsters.

But humans? Those were the worst.

The transformations had always been there. Ever since he was a kid. Anytime he lost control, and every full moon.

He’d gotten a quiet job: restocking books in a library. Boring. Isolated. The late hours meant fewer people if something went wrong. He could still get home before the full moon.

He’d lived alone for years. Since that night. The night he hurt his mother.

She’d done her best, really. Kept him at home. Isolated. Safe. When he was little, it wasn’t so bad—he turned into a tiny cub, not too dangerous. But it got worse as he grew.

She locked him in his room. Homeschooled him. Taught him how to read.

That’s how he fell in love with books.

One day, he got angry.

Why did all those characters have friends? Adventures? Lives? Why couldn’t he?

He lashed out. Transformed.

His mother was prepared. She got away.

Still, Remus knew. He had to go.

He waited until he was sixteen—old enough to work. And one day, while she was out getting groceries, he packed a bag and left.

At first, it was rough. He didn’t know how to live. The world was loud. Fast. Overwhelming. He transformed often.

But with time, he adapted. Moved to a new city. Found a job. Got a shitty flat.

Still, it was a lonely life. Too dangerous to be around people.

He spent his free time researching. Trying to understand what he was. Everything pointed to lycanthropy—but there was so much nonsense out there that he didn’t know what to believe.

The only thing that made sense was that it came from his father.

Hope never talked about him. Total taboo.

Remus used to think his father had left because of him. Because of what he was.

But where had this come from, if not from him?

The most logical explanation was that his father was like him.

And if that was true… how could he abandon Remus?

He knew how hard this was. So why?

Remus didn’t have an answer. Thinking about it just made him angry.

He was walking home when he smelled it—cyclops.

He turned around instantly. Avoid. Survive. That was the rule.

But then—another smell.

Something familiar. Something warm. Something that didn’t feel like danger.

It came from the same direction.

Remus hesitated. He could go home. Stay safe. Pretend nothing had happened.

Or he could go see.

What the hell. He was tired of being alone.

Maybe—maybe it was someone like him. Another wolf. Or whatever he was.

He followed the scent.

Up ahead, two cyclops surrounded a boy, a little younger than him. The boy looked exhausted but still pulled out two daggers, determination burning in his eyes.

The fight started. The boy was good—but losing energy fast.

He lost his weapons. One of the cyclops raised a hand, ready to crush him.

Remus’s heart kicked up.

He didn’t know why. But something deep inside screamed to keep the boy alive.

He transformed.

Attacked.

Cyclops were tough. But Remus wasn’t normal. On all fours, he stood nearly as tall as in human form—and he was tall.

He tore through them. They dissolved into dust.

Normally, the wolf would turn on the next moving thing.

But this boy…

There was that smell again. Familiar. Safe.

He looked like he was holding on by will alone.

Remus shifted back. Walked forward.

The boy tensed, ready to fight.

Fair enough. If Remus had just watched a wolf become a human, he’d be tense too.

He stopped at a safe distance.

"Who are you?" the boy asked.

Now that Remus was closer, he noticed his eyes—grey. Pretty.

"I’m Remus Lupin. Who are you?"

The boy squinted. "You’re named Remus Lupin and you turn into a wolf? Is this a joke?"

"I wish," Remus said, smiling, a little sad.

"Okay. Let’s say I believe you. Next question: what are you? And why did you help me? Did someone send you? From, like, Camp Half-Blood maybe? I thought they used satyrs but… well, maybe they upgraded."

Remus blinked. "What?"

"First, I don’t know what I am. Your guess is as good as mine.
Second, I don’t know why I helped you. I just… had to.
As for the rest—Half-Blood? Satyrs? You mean the goat people? There’s a camp of those?"

He stared.

"Wait—did I offend you? Are you one of them? Sorry!"

"What? No. I’m not a satyr." The boy frowned. 

"Oh. Okay then. And what are you? What’s your name?"

"My name is Regulus, if you must know. As for what I am… I’m not sure I should tell you."

"What? Why? I just saved your life, if you didn’t notice."

Remus could tell. Regulus wasn’t human. Not completely. There was something else in him. Something familiar.

And Regulus hadn’t flinched at the transformation.

Humans usually ran.

This one… had seen things.

Remus made a choice.

"Don’t tell me if you don’t want to," he said with a grin. "But just know I’m going to follow you around until you do."

He smiled, all innocence.

Regulus sighed. "Suit yourself."

Chapter Text

Remus

They had been walking for hours now.
Remus had never seen so many monsters attack in such a short amount of time.

At least Regulus wasn’t so tired anymore, and he could hold his own in a fight, so they hadn’t had any real trouble—for now.

After the last creature dissolved into dust, Remus asked, "What are you, like a monster magnet?"

"Something like that."

Regulus still didn’t say much about himself—but at least he was allowing Remus to follow him.
So there was that. A win is a win.

They kept walking, and as they approached Boston, Regulus suddenly turned around and asked,
"Do you have any money?"

"My, my, now you want my money. I may have some, but you’ll have to tell me what for."

Regulus assessed him for a moment, then said, "I have to get to Long Island. And I’d really prefer to do it with less walking, honestly."

"Long Island? Whatever for?"

"That’s where camp is."

"Camp Half-Blood, is it? That’s what you said. Care to elaborate?"

Honestly, Remus was getting a bit tired of this, but after the last few hours, he was more convinced than ever that Regulus was something . So he was going to keep following him around.
That didn’t mean he appreciated the silent treatment.

"If you get us tickets, I’ll tell you what I know."

"Deal."

Regulus

They made their way to a mostly empty train car, choosing seats as far away as possible from the other passengers.

As soon as the train started moving, Remus said, “So. Camp Half-Blood. Spill. Don’t skimp on details—we’ve got a few hours.”

Regulus didn’t really know that much about camp, only that Evan and Barty had told him it was a safe place for demigods like him, and that he should go there.

“I don’t have any details,” he admitted. “I just know it’s supposed to be safe for people like me.”

“People like you?”

“Half-bloods.”

Remus looked confused.

“Demigods,” Regulus clarified.

“Demigods? What—are you saying you’re God’s son?”

Remus looked skeptical.
Regulus didn’t know why he was telling him anything. He knew it probably wasn’t safe, but for some reason, he trusted Remus enough. His presence had been comforting so far—and he had saved his life, after all.

“No. Not God. A god. A Greek god, to be exact.”

“Mmm... okay. And how did you come to this conclusion? Did your father—the god—tell you?”

Regulus couldn’t tell if Remus was starting to believe him or if he just thought he was crazy.

“Well, not exactly. I come from a family of demigods, kinda. But to make it short: Greek gods have moved with the heart of civilization. They never stopped existing. And, like in the ancient myths, they sometimes have children with humans. We’re usually in danger from a young age, but my house had protections against monsters. Haven’t you noticed how often we’ve been attacked? That’s where camp comes in. It’s a safe space for demigods, guarded against monsters. Only demigods can enter.”

Remus’s face fell a little at that last sentence.
Regulus realized he wouldn’t be able to follow him into camp. And what would Remus do then?
Maybe he could talk to someone about it once he was there, but he had no idea what Remus was . Maybe a monster—but he didn’t think so.

“Do you know who your dad is, then?” Remus asked.

“Yes. I was claimed when I was little. My father is Hades—god of the Underworld.”

Remus made a quiet sound of recognition, but didn’t say anything else. He seemed deep in thought.

“What about you?” Regulus asked. “What are you?”

“I don’t know. I turn into a wolf, as you’ve seen. But I can’t really control it. It just happens—when I’m scared, or excited, and every full moon.”

“And you don’t have any idea why? Maybe it has something to do with your family. Who are your parents?”

“My parents are human, as far as I know.”

Regulus tried to think of a god who might give powers like that to their children, but he couldn’t think of any.

“I think we should take the opportunity to sleep for a while,” Remus said.

Regulus agreed. He closed his eyes.

He didn’t know much about Camp Half-Blood, no. But he knew one thing: if his brother was alive, he would be there.
And that was all he needed to know, really.

James 

James Potter crouched beside the chariot’s wheels, tightening the axle for what must have been the fifth time. Beside him, Sirius Black sat cross-legged with an open toolbox, handing James the right bolts and tools.

“This is gonna be epic,” Sirius said, smiling from ear to ear.

James didn’t reply. He just smiled to himself and kept working.

They’d signed up as a team. One chariot, two drivers, one pair of barely tame pegasi, and absolutely no chance of playing it safe. Everyone else had fought over the best matchups for balance and coordination. James hadn’t even hesitated.

Sirius was his team. Always had been.

He remembered the first time Sirius came to camp. Peter—James’ guardian satyr—had been sent to get him years ago. When they got back, James was waiting for Peter, and when he saw Sirius, eyes tired and sad, he felt an instant connection.

They became friends pretty fast, and had only grown closer since then.

Sirius’s life before camp was complicated. Even James didn’t know the whole story. From what he’d gathered, Sirius’s parents were horrible to him, and eventually kicked him out. Sirius had a brother, but he never talked about him—only in his dreams.

Since Sirius often slept in James’s bed, James had gathered a fair amount of information. His name was Regulus. He was younger than Sirius. Sirius had always protected him. He’d tried to get him out when he was kicked out, but almost died trying. Sirius had a lot of nightmares about his brother’s fate.

It was a taboo topic when Sirius was awake. James had stopped trying to talk about it years ago.

“Do you think we’ll die if we hit the lava turn too fast?” Sirius asked, breaking his train of thought.

“Probably,” James replied without looking up. “But if we’re going to die, I’d rather die with you.”

Sirius snorted. “How romantic.”

The horn blew, and they were off.

Two pegasi surged forward, wings flaring, hooves pounding against the enchanted track. Dust exploded behind them as James gripped the reins and Sirius braced beside him, one hand gripping the edge of the chariot, the other already crackling with sparks from the celestial bronze-tipped whip at his belt.

“Go, Cupid!” James shouted over the roar of the crowd. The left pegasus whinnied and leapt ahead, nearly dragging the chariot into a curve too early.

“Left!” Sirius yelled, shifting his weight to balance them. James adjusted. The chariot swerved cleanly around the first flaming pillar.

They were a blur of movement—wheels shrieking, wind in their faces, the gleam of armor under the sunlight.

A second team tried to box them in from the right, but James shot an arrow at their chariot’s wheels, and they spun off the track.

“Nice shot!” Sirius called, exhilarated.

They rounded the lava curve. One wrong move, and they’d be roasted.

Sirius shifted beside him. “Hold tight. I’ve got this one.”
He tightened his grip on the reins, and before James knew it, they were past the lava, untouched.

A flying obstacle zipped toward them—an automaton hawk with razor-sharp feathers. Sirius ducked low and yanked James with him. They slammed down onto the chariot floor as the hawk shrieked past overhead.

“Focus, Prongs.”

“Right,” James muttered, loosing another arrow. Being a son of Apollo came in very handy.

The pair of them surged forward with one final burst of speed—wings flapping wide, hooves barely touching the ground—and soared past the finish line.

The conch shell blared.

They’d won.

They jumped down from the chariot together, feet hitting the earth in perfect sync. Peter and Lily were already there.

“You two are not good for my heart, I tell you,” Peter said. “You’re going to kill me one day.”

Peter was always scared for them—it was his job, but also, Peter had always been James’ best friend. Well, until Sirius came along. But still—a good friend.

“Don’t worry, Wormtail,” Sirius said. “We’ll be fine, as long as we’re together. Isn’t that right?”

“Sirius, I told you to stop calling me that,” Peter said flatly.

James could understand why. For reasons unknown, Peter’s satyr tail didn’t look quite right. It was a little longer and thinner—and completely hairless. Sirius had taken to calling him Wormtail , and Peter was not fond of the nickname.

But Sirius was big on nicknames. He called James Prongs because of a birthmark on his ass that vaguely resembled antlers. The first time Sirius saw it, he burst out laughing—and he’d called him Prongs ever since.

James was the inventor of Sirius’s nickname. When he fought—and it started getting rough—Sirius had a habit of barking at his opponents to startle them and gain the upper hand. James thought it was hilarious, so he started calling him Padfoot .

“Congrats, boys,” Lily said, smiling.

Lily Evans. His girlfriend. They’d been dating for two years, and it had been great.

James had been obsessed with Lily since he was eleven, and eventually, he got his wish.
But lately... it felt different.
They were growing apart. And, more than that—James found he didn’t care that much.

The light over the lake had gone soft—dusky purples and fading gold brushing the water’s surface.
James Potter sat on the edge of the dock, sandals off, legs swinging slowly above the water. The day’s adrenaline had worn off, leaving only quiet.

He heard her steps behind him, but didn’t look back.

“Hey,” Lily said softly, lowering herself beside him.

“Hey,” James answered.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, watching the water ripple in the breeze.

“I think we need to talk,” Lily said gently.

“We’re breaking up, aren’t we?” James asked.

“We are. I think…” Lily hesitated. “No—I know . I’m not in love with you. Not like that. And I don’t think I ever really was.”

James blinked, a little stunned. “Oh.”

She gave him a tight smile, full of apology. “I like girls. I’ve known for a while, but I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

James sat with that for a moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me before? You know you could’ve talked to me.”
James was openly bisexual—he’d been out for years.

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He let out a slow breath. “You didn’t. I think I knew something had changed—I just didn’t know what. Maybe I was trying to hold on to the idea of us more than the reality.”

Lily nodded. “You were my first safe space, James. You’ve been nothing but good to me. I just… want to be honest with you now.”

“I appreciate that.” He gave her a small, genuine smile. “And I’m proud of you.”

She smiled back, eyes soft. “Friends?”

“Forever.”

They sat in silence together.

“I still love you, you know? Even if it’s not in the same way,” Lily said.

“I know. I love you too,” James responded. Then he got a funny look on his face.
“Did I turn you into a lesbian, Evans? Am I that bad in bed?”

“Oh, gods. Shut up, James.” Lily laughed.

And that was that.

Chapter Text

Remus

They were walking again—fun!
According to Regulus, they were just about to reach camp.

The plan was simple: Remus would wait outside the barrier while Regulus went in and talked to someone to see if he could come in.

Both boys were talking more now. They were both lonely, and they were becoming friends—or at least, Remus thought so. He even said as much to Regulus, who looked pleased, even if he didn’t say it out loud.

Suddenly, Remus smelled something.
Monsters. But not a scent he’d ever smelled before.

“Regulus, run.”

Regulus looked at him for a second, then took off running, with Remus close behind.

The smell was getting stronger, and pretty soon he could see three female figures chasing them.
They were fast.

“Empusai,” Regulus said, a little out of breath.

They reached the camp barrier. Remus stopped abruptly—he didn’t fancy turning into dust just yet.

“Go on! I’ll be fine!” he shouted to Regulus.
He didn’t look convinced. Remus saw the way his hand twitched—like he wanted to grab him. And maybe Remus wanted him to. But then—

Then, just as Regulus was about to turn back, an arrow flew past them and embedded itself in the nearest monster.
She disappeared into the air with a scream.

Before Remus could even process what had happened, he felt Regulus’s arms around him, shoving him through the barrier.

They went through.

From the ground, Remus could see a dark-haired boy with glasses nocking another arrow.

A red-haired girl ran toward them, offering a hand and helping them off the floor.

“Are you guys okay?” she asked.

Remus glanced at Regulus, who was busy eyeing the archer boy.
Okay then.

“Yes, we’re good. Thank you,” Remus said.

The girl smiled warmly at them. She seemed nice. She also didn’t smell human.
Like Regulus—but different.

Remus looked at Regulus again. It had been dangerous, pushing him through the barrier. He could have died.
Regulus looked back, smiling apologetically.

The other boy finished off the remaining empusai and walked toward them, his eyes flicking over Remus before locking onto Regulus.
He looked… distraught.

“You’re Regulus Black,” he said.

Regulus froze. Remus did too.
Regulus didn’t seem to know him—so how did he know Regulus ?

“Yeah… how do you know my name? Who are you?”

“I’m James Potter,” the boy said. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.
Follow me.”

Regulus

Regulus was sitting in an office, Remus beside him. James and Lily stood behind them.

The door to the office opened, and a centaur walked through.

“Chiron,” Regulus said, mouth slightly open.

“Indeed,” Chiron replied, settling into a wheelchair on the other side of the desk, his horse half disappearing beneath the illusion. “And who would you boys be?”

“I’m Regulus Black. And this is Remus.”

Chiron hummed thoughtfully. “James, Lily, why don’t you leave us alone for a moment?”

Lily turned to leave immediately, but James hesitated—glancing back at Regulus.
He was so pretty. Ugh. Leave it to Regulus to develop a crush in five seconds.

Regulus turned to Chiron just in time to hear James sigh and finally walk out.

“Okay, boys,” Chiron said. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

Regulus explained why he had left his house—the strange ritual they’d been preparing him for. Chiron listened intently, nodding occasionally. When Regulus reached the part about meeting Remus, he hesitated, unsure how much to reveal.

But Remus spoke up.

“I could smell Regulus was in trouble,” he said. “Since I can remember, I turn into a wolf in distressing situations. I just wanted to put that out there. I don’t want to be a danger to the people here. And honestly, I don’t even know how I got through the barrier…”

“Only demigods can enter camp,” Chiron said calmly. “So the answer is evident. You are a demigod. And we don’t turn our backs on demigods here. You’ll be safe in this camp.”

Regulus exhaled in relief. He’d been worried they might make Remus leave. But he was a demigod—that was great.

“Since it’s late, I’ll be brief. Someone will explain more tomorrow. We have cabins for each deity’s children. Regulus, you’ll stay in the Hades cabin.

And Remus, since we don’t know who your godly parent is yet, you’ll stay in the Hermes cabin for now—until you’re claimed. I’ll have James take you both to your cabins.”

With that, Chiron rolled out of the room.

Sirius

Sirius was about to fall asleep when James came running into the Hermes cabin. He came to a halt beside Sirius’s bed and shout-whispered,

“Sirius, get up. You have to come with me.” He looked unsure for a second. “Your brother is here.”

Sirius jumped out of bed.

“What? Regulus?”
He didn’t bother whispering—half the cabin groaned, having been abruptly awakened.

“Yes. He’s in Chiron’s office right now.”

Sirius didn’t need to hear anything else. He took off running toward the Big House, barefoot and breathless. He was ecstatic—Regulus was here—but also panicked.
Why was Regulus here? Had something happened? Was he okay? Had he been kicked out too?
Surely not. Regulus was the golden child. They wouldn’t...

He ran faster, James close behind.

“Sirius, wait!” James called. “They’re talking to Chiron right now. We have to wait for them to come out.”

Sirius didn’t want to wait, but James caught him by the arm and made him stop.

“They’ll be out before you know it. Just breathe.”

Sirius tried to take his word for it.

“They?” he asked. “Who’s they ?”

“I’m not sure. Regulus came with someone. I don’t know anything else—Chiron made me leave.”

Okay. That was fine. Regulus had someone with him. That was okay. Sirius felt his heart pounding like a drum. James was right—he needed to calm down. He took a deep breath and looked at James.

James opened his arms. Sirius didn’t hesitate. He stepped into the hug, holding James tightly.

His brother. His little brother was here. Oh gods—did Regulus hate him?
He probably should. Sirius had left him behind in that house. He had to apologize.
His breathing sped up again, and James hugged him tighter.

“It’ll be okay, Pads.”

The door opened, and Chiron stepped out.

“James, would you take Regulus and Remus to their cabins?”

Regulus. He’d said Regulus . Sirius hadn’t fully believed it until now. He stepped away from James, who nodded to Chiron.

The door opened again, and James reached for Sirius’s hand.

A boy with light brown hair walked out first. He was tall, with a scar that ran from his top lip to the underside of his eye.
Wow.
He was beautiful, Sirius thought.

Then he stepped aside. And there was his brother.

“Reggie.”

Regulus’s eyes snapped to him.

Sirius dropped James’s hand and moved forward.

“Sirius,” Regulus whispered.

Sirius stopped in front of him. He wanted to pull him into his arms and never let go, but… he didn’t know if he’d be welcome.

“Regulus,” he said. “Regulus, I’m sorry . I’m so sorry I left you. I’m sorry. Please believe me.”

He was getting overwhelmed again. Regulus just looked at him, and Sirius could feel the tears falling down his cheeks, blurring his vision.

Time slowed, and then suddenly, Regulus took a step forward and wrapped his arms around him—head resting against Sirius’s chest.

Sirius held him tightly. Too tightly, probably. He couldn’t believe it. His little brother— all grown up .  He remembered Regulus at ten years old, curled on the couch with a book, too quiet for a child. And now he was taller. Harder. But still his little brother. He just cried harder.

“Sirius,” Regulus said. “Sirius, quit crying. Gods. This is so embarrassing.”

Sirius laughed through the tears.

“It’s only embarrassing for me, don’t worry,” he said.

“If you say so.” Regulus pulled back just enough to look at him. “I forgive you, by the way.”

“Really?” Sirius met his eyes. Regulus nodded.

“Oh, thank the gods.”

Sirius cupped his brother’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead, then hugged him again, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Regulus muttered, pushing him back. “We still have to talk. We’re not just going back to normal.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fair. I love you, though. I’ve missed you so much—you have no idea.”

“I think I might have an idea,” Regulus said.

Sirius’s guilt came crashing down again. He’d left him. Abandoned his little brother. Of course they couldn’t go back to normal.

Sirius glanced around. James was watching them with the biggest smile Sirius had ever seen on his best friend.
And then there was the other boy. He wasn’t smiling like James, but there was a warm look on his face.

Sirius’s older-brother instincts flared up.

“And who would you be, hmm?” he asked, arms crossing.

“Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you,” the boy said calmly.

“And why—?”

“Sirius, leave him alone,” Regulus interrupted. “He’s my friend . He helped me.”

Remus’s face lit up at that.
He had a feeling Regulus didn’t just go around calling anyone his friend.

“Okay then,” Sirius said, relaxing. “In that case—nice to meet you. And thank you. And also—we’re friends now too.”

“Alright, Sirius, stop the dramatics,” James cut in. “You guys must be tired. I’ll take you to your cabins. What cabins are you in, anyway?”

“Regulus is in Hades’s,” Sirius answered.

“And I’m in Hermes, apparently,” Remus said. “Since I just found out I’m a demigod and no one’s claimed me yet.”

“That makes two of us,” Sirius added. “Well… at least the second part.”

Chapter Text

Regulus

Regulus lay on his bed in the Hades cabin. It was a dark room, but he liked it.
He’d been awake for a while but hadn’t gotten up.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now, honestly. He’d made it to camp. Mission accomplished.
Now what?

He thought about looking for Remus, but—as he’d seen last night—the Hermes cabin was crawling with people.
Regulus didn’t like people.

He also knew Sirius would come find him once he woke up.
His brother was always a later sleeper than he was.

Sure enough, proving Regulus right, Sirius knocked on the door.

“Reggie! Wakie wakie!”

Regulus opened the door.
“I’m awake. Lower your voice, please,” he said, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. Sirius, as usual, had no sense of shame.

“Good morning,” Sirius said brightly, saluting him. “I’m here to show you around camp. Let’s go get your friend too!”

“Why didn’t you get him before coming? Aren’t you in his cabin?” Regulus asked.

“Oh yeah, but I slept at James’s last night.”

Right. James.
Regulus remembered them holding hands yesterday. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. But… no. Of course he would fall for his brother’s boyfriend. Just his luck.

Sirius had already started walking, not even reacting to what he’d said. That’s because it isn’t important, idiot, said a voice in Regulus’s head. He sighed and followed, watching as Sirius strolled right into the Hermes cabin.

He came out a minute later, with Remus in tow.

“Okay, newbies. I’ve appointed myself your tour guide for the day, so keep up and listen closely.”

Sirius began walking again as he spoke.

“As you probably know, this area is for the campers, with a cabin for each god. It used to be just the twelve Olympians, but now every deity has their own cabin—all thanks to my favorite hero ever, Percy Jackson.”

Regulus had heard about Percy Jackson. He was the most famous demigod in centuries—rivaling the originals, even.

“You already know the Big House,” Sirius continued, pointing toward the place where they’d met Chiron yesterday. “That’s where Chiron lives, along with Mr. D and the Oracle.

Over here we have the Pegasus stables, and there’s the armory and the training arena.
You can see the mess hall down this path—that’s where we eat.

And finally, just over that hill is the city. That’s pretty new. After we discovered the Roman camp, we took inspiration from them and built a Greek city where demigods can live and grow old. Being out in the world… isn’t usually safe.”

Regulus barely listened, distracted by Sirius’s effortless charm and the thought of James’s hand in his last night. Their path was interrupted by two girls—one of them the redhead from yesterday.

“Hey, Sirius,” Lily said, smiling. “Regulus. Remus.” She nodded to both of them. “You getting a tour?”

“That we are, Lily. How are you? Getting ready for later?”

“Yes, that’s what we wanted to talk about,” the other girl said. “Can we count on you for our team?”

“You know it, Dorcas.”

Sirius then seemed to remember that Regulus and Remus were standing there.

“Hmm… any room for two more?” he asked, gesturing toward them.

Dorcas looked them over. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Well, that’s taken care of,” Lily said, linking arms with Dorcas. “We’ve got to keep preparing. Bye! Oh, and tell James he’s on our team too, will you?”

“Yeah, okay,” Sirius called after them as they walked away.

Regulus couldn’t help himself. “So… where’s your boyfriend, anyway?”

“What? Who, James?” Sirius looked horrified. “What—he’s not my boyfriend, Regulus. What the hell. That’s gross.”

“Gross?” Remus cut in. “Why?” His voice had gone tight. “Because he’s a boy?”

“What? No!” Sirius looked more and more confused. “I mean… no. Because he’s like my brother .”

Ouch.
That hurt.
His relief that James wasn’t Sirius’s boyfriend and that his brother wasn’t a homophobic prick faded fast.
Like his brother. Of course.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that,” Remus said, relaxing visibly. “It’s just that…”

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to explain. Actually—James is bisexual, and he’s my best friend, and I’m as gay as it gets, so…”

Remus was turning red now. Regulus just wanted to disappear, but couldn’t think of a good excuse.

“So,” Remus said, desperate for a subject change, “what’s happening later?”

“We’re playing Capture the Flag! You’re gonna love it, Reg! You can show off your skills. Any weapon and power is allowed—as long as we don’t kill each other. But don’t worry, that hasn’t happened in years .”

“Great. Sounds safe,” Regulus said dryly.

Remus

Remus stood between the trees, clutching a borrowed sword and trying not to let anyone see how hard he was breathing.

Camp Half-Blood was nothing like he expected. Not that he’d had much time to adjust—after the whole nearly-getting-killed-by-sexy-vampires-at-the-border thing, everything had happened fast: healing poultices, cabin assignments (he didn’t have one), quick introductions, a dozen strange stares.

And now—this.
A game. A war game.

Capture the Flag , they’d called it.
But judging by the way everyone was strapping on armor and sharpening blades, it felt more like Capture the Body Count . And not the fun one.

He adjusted the straps on his chest plate awkwardly.

“You okay?” Regulus asked.

Remus nodded. Lied. “Yeah. Just—nerves.”

“You’ll do fine. You’re fast, and you’ve got instincts. That’s half the fight.”

Remus wanted to believe him. He really did.

“Team’s gathering,” Regulus added, jerking his chin toward a cluster of demigods near the flagpole. “Come on.”

They joined Lily—radiant even in a dented helmet—and Dorcas, a tall girl with an archer’s build and an unreadable stare. The four of them were placed on the same team—blue. Their mission: defend their flag, hidden deep in the woods, and try to steal the red team’s.

It sounded simple.
It didn’t feel simple.

“I’ll take the left flank,” Dorcas said, examining a map. “Lily, you’re better with barriers—you stay center with the flag.”

Beside him, Sirius Black adjusted the leather straps on his wrist guards and gave Remus a once-over.

“That sword’s way too long for you. Want one of mine?”

“No, I’m fine,” Remus muttered.

“You sure?” Sirius tilted his head. “We’ve got a reputation to uphold. Can’t have the new guy tripping over his own weapon.”

“I’m fine,” Remus snapped—sharper than intended.
Sirius wasn’t doing any favors for the speed of his heartbeat.

“Game starts in one minute!” a centaur called. Chiron.

Remus swallowed hard.

They moved to their starting positions. The woods were darker here, quiet and full of unseen movement. Shadows clung to the roots. Every scent overwhelmed him—tree sap, sweat, blood in the distance.

Something shifted inside his chest. A pulse. Familiar and wrong.
Not now, he thought. Please not now.

Regulus crouched beside him behind a tree, close enough that Remus could feel his breath.

“You’re trembling,” Regulus whispered.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Remus gritted his teeth.
“I can’t—if I lose control in front of them, if I change—they’ll know I don’t belong here.”

Regulus was quiet for a moment.

“You do belong here,” he said. “Whatever you are, it’s part of this world. Let them be scared if they have to be. That doesn’t mean you’re not one of us.”

The horn blew.

A roar of movement erupted around them—blue armor flashing as campers scattered into the woods, vanishing between trees and underbrush. Somewhere to their left, James let out a victorious whoop, followed by the unmistakable clang of metal on metal.

Remus ran.

He and Regulus moved fast through the trees, sticking to shadows, avoiding obvious paths. The goal was to flank the red team and intercept anyone going for their flag—but Remus could barely focus on strategy. Every step made his chest tighter. Every heartbeat thudded in his ears, echoing too loud, too wild.

He ducked under a branch. Felt the pull in his muscles—sharp, sudden. The shift was close. Too close.

They spotted movement ahead. Red armor.

Regulus pulled him down into a crouch. “Two of them. Maybe Hermes cabin.”

Remus nodded, trying to still his breathing.

Regulus whispered, “On my signal, we split. I go left, draw them. You hit fast, from behind. No heroics.”

“Fine,” Remus said, though his skin was already starting to itch. His fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword. Stay human. Stay human.

Regulus darted left, tossing a rock to draw attention. It worked—one red turned toward the noise.

Remus lunged.

He struck the side of the camper’s shield. They clashed briefly, but Remus had the speed advantage—just barely. He didn’t win cleanly, but the camper backed off.

“I got mine!” Regulus called.

Remus nodded, panting, vision blurred. The scent of sweat and blood was overwhelming.

More red-armored figures appeared between the trees. Too many.

“We have to fall back,” Regulus said.

Remus tried to speak, but something in his throat cracked.
It was like fire behind his ribs. His legs trembled.

“Remus?”

He couldn’t answer.

They ran again, deeper into the woods—and then, the trees parted.

The lake.

It glittered under the early evening light, still and silver-blue. But there was no peace in it now.

A red camper had followed them—older, fast, and skilled. Regulus barely blocked the strike in time.

“Run!” he shouted.

Remus didn’t.
He couldn’t.

He saw Regulus stumble. A second opponent was coming from behind. No time.

“Regulus!” he heard Sirius shout.

And then everything snapped .

A growl ripped from his throat. His back arched. His bones shifted .
The world exploded in pain and clarity all at once.

The wolf was here.

Remus launched himself forward with a roar, body expanding, limbs stretching, fur tearing through the straps of his armor. His sword fell to the ground—useless now.

He collided with the attacker mid-air. Heard a scream.
The camper tried to fight back, but it was over in seconds.

The wolf didn’t kill.
But it made sure they wouldn’t be standing again anytime soon.

Then he stood in front of Regulus, daring anyone to come closer.

The second red retreated fast.

Chaos. Voices everywhere. Campers shouting, but the wolf didn’t understand the words.

Suddenly, Sirius stepped between the wolf and the others, sword ready.
James knelt beside the fallen camper.

The wolf turned to Regulus and pressed his snout to his outstretched hand.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sirius growled at the other campers, sword raised.

Remus understood then.
The campers wanted to kill him. Kill the wolf.
And he couldn’t blame them.

For all they knew, he’d just killed their friend.

They attacked.
Sirius tried to hold them off, but there were too many.

The wolf turned to defend, preparing to launch—

But before he could, the lake rose.

A wall of water surged upward, forming a barrier between Remus and Regulus and the rest of the campers.

And then—
It crashed down , sweeping away the attackers in a wave of roaring, cold fury.

It didn’t touch James or Sirius.

The wolf raised his head. Above Sirius, something was glowing.

A trident.

Gasps echoed. But Sirius didn’t seem to notice.

He stepped forward.

Unusually, the wolf didn’t feel the need to attack.
He just looked at Sirius.

He looked devastatingly beautiful. Powerful. Regal.

Sirius held out his hand, palm open, and bowed his head.

Remus felt it then. Felt himself coming back.

He shifted—bones shrinking, fur receding, muscles twisting back into human form.

He knelt, naked and trembling.

“What is that?” Sirius asked.

For a moment, Remus thought he meant the trident glowing above his head.

But Sirius was looking at him .

Remus turned his eyes upward.

There was something glowing above his head too.

The moon. And stars. In a pitch-black sky.

That’s when Chiron arrived, trotting onto the scene.

“You have been claimed by the gods,” he announced.

“Sirius, son of Poseidon.” Sirius looked up, stunned. “And Remus… son of Nyx.”

Chapter Text

Regulus

Regulus was banging on the door of the Big House, to no avail.
They had taken Remus away after the incident at the lake, and no one had seen him since.
Sirius and James had tried to talk to Chiron about it, but got nowhere.
So Regulus was here now.

What had happened at the lake was… remarkable.
At first, Regulus had been afraid.
But then—Sirius.
Oh, what a sight.

The water bending to his will, his absolute determination to protect them, the trident glowing above his head…
He had looked like a god.

Turns out their parents weren’t so far off after all—one of the Big Three had fathered Sirius.
Just not the one they’d hoped.

And Remus.
Poor Remus.

He was a slave to the wolf, yes—but Regulus had found it formidable.
And he had more control than he thought. He hadn’t attacked Sirius—any other wolf would have. Sirius had been the biggest threat there.

Regulus knocked again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
Finally, the door creaked open.

A girl he hadn’t seen before stood in the doorway. She was blonde, with an ethereal look about her—like she wasn’t quite made of the same world as everyone else.

"Who are you?" Regulus asked, frowning.

The girl’s voice was soft and dreamlike when she replied. “Names are chains, child of shadow. You may call me what others do—Pandora.”

“I need to speak with Chiron,” Regulus said quickly. “It’s important. It’s about Remus. They took him. No one will tell me anything.”

Pandora tilted her head. “The wolf walks the path between teeth and truth. He is not lost. Merely waiting.”

Regulus’s hands curled into fists. “What does that mean? Is he okay?”

Instead of answering directly, Pandora stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. “Nothing is ever truly ‘okay’ when the Fates begin to hum.”

Regulus hesitated, but stepped inside. Pandora walked slowly ahead of him, her bare feet silent against the wooden floor.

“I don’t have time for riddles,” he muttered. “Please—if you know something, just say it.”

Pandora stopped and turned to face him fully. Her expression sharpened ever so slightly. “Then listen well, son of the pit. The smoke is rising.”

She lifted a hand and touched her temple. Her eyes glazed over, her voice dropped into something older and heavier, and the very air around them seemed to hold its breath as she spoke—not in her own cadence, but in a rhythm that echoed like prophecy.

When night returns to where it broke,
the son of death shall wake the smoke.
The tide-born stays beyond the gate,
his oath-bound blood will seal his fate.
One brings the dark, one brings the flame,
and both must pass the house of shame.
The silent box shall crack and cry
when sunlight walks where shadows lie.

Silence followed. Pandora blinked and exhaled slowly. Her voice, now back to its usual softness, held a faint tremor.

“It has begun,” she said. “You have already taken the first step.”

Regulus’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “Is that… about me?”

Pandora nodded. “It is about all of you. But you… are the spark.”

Weird.

Regulus walked through the halls of the Big House quietly, almost afraid that if he stepped too loudly, someone would stop him. But no one did. Pandora had vanished after delivering the prophecy, and Chiron was nowhere in sight.

Maybe the gods themselves were giving him permission.

The room was silent, and sitting on the bed, was Remus.

He was sitting upright, a blanket draped over his shoulders, eyes fixed on the window. He turned at the sound of footsteps, and for a second, his face looked relieved. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“You came,” he said.

“I did.” Regulus walked closer, uncertain if he could sit. “Can I?”

Remus nodded slightly.

Silence settled between them. Regulus broke it.

“Are you okay?”

Remus gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t know. Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“No. I’m not okay.”

Regulus swallowed. “Are you hurt?”

“Not physically,” Remus said, then looked directly at him. “You’re wasting your time with me, Regulus. I shouldn’t be here. I’m dangerous.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? You saw it. You saw what I did. That wasn’t the first time.”

“You didn’t kill anyone.”

“But I could have!” His voice cracked. “And if Sirius hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t—if something had gone wrong...”

“But it didn’t.”

“Not this time.”

Regulus looked at him. He wanted to shake him, to yell at him for being an idiot, for thinking he didn’t deserve help or a place here. But that wasn’t how things worked with Remus. He knew better. So he took a breath and chose his words carefully.

“Remus... the power you have, yes, it’s a lot. And yeah, it’s scary. But it’s also yours. What you did out there was protect me. Protect Sirius. Even protect the ones trying to hurt you.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“You don’t need to make it okay. You need to learn how to live with it. And you’re not going to do that alone.”

Remus looked down, his lips pressed together. Regulus leaned a little closer.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m asking you to stay. Because…”

He hesitated. Then said it anyway.

“Because I want you to stay.”

Remus blinked, caught off guard. He opened his mouth to argue—but found no words.

“Why?” he finally asked, voice barely audible.

“For you,” Regulus said. “And for me.”

The tension didn’t disappear, but something in Remus softened. He sank a little deeper into the pillow, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll stay.”

For now, Regulus thought, that was enough.

Just as the quiet settled between them, the door creaked open.

Regulus tensed, half-expecting someone to drag him out. But it was only Chiron, in his wheelchair form, looking calm but curious.

“Am I interrupting?” the centaur asked gently, eyes flicking between the two boys.

“Yes,” Remus muttered under his breath.

“No,” Regulus said at the same time.

Chiron gave them a small smile. “Regulus, may I have a word?”

Regulus glanced at Remus, who nodded subtly. He stood and followed Chiron into the hallway, where they were alone.

“What did Pandora tell you?” Chiron asked without preamble.

Regulus frowned. “She said a bunch of cryptic stuff. Rhymed. I don’t know. Something about smoke and sunlight and shame. Honestly, I thought it was just another weird poetic moment.”

Chiron’s gaze sharpened. “Can you repeat it?”

Regulus closed his eyes, trying to recall the exact phrasing. “It was something like:

When night returns to where it broke,
The son of death shall wake the smoke.
The tide-born stays beyond the gate,
His oath-bound blood will seal his fate.
One brings the dark, one brings the flame,
And both must pass the house of shame.
The silent box shall crack and cry
When sunlight walks where shadows lie.

He opened his eyes. “What does that even mean?”

Chiron was silent for a long moment.

“It means,” he said finally, “that the Fates have spoken. That was a prophecy, Regulus.”

Regulus’s stomach dropped.

“A real one?”

“A real one,” Chiron confirmed. “Pandora is a vessel. She doesn’t speak those words by choice.”

Regulus swallowed. “And it’s about me?”

Chiron nodded. “And Remus. And Sirius. And possibly others. But you—you're the spark. The prophecy begins with you.”

Regulus exhaled slowly. “So… what now?”

“Now,” Chiron said, voice grave but steady, “we prepare. A quest is coming.”

Sirius

The Apollo cabin was quiet, the kind of silence that only crept in after a day full of battle games, emotional reunions, and divine revelations. Most of the campers were fast asleep, their golden cabin glowing faintly with soft light from the ceiling skylights.

Sirius lay curled up under a thin sheet, one arm tossed over James’s waist. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep there—again—but after everything, James hadn’t said a word. Just shifted to make room.

It was peaceful. For about an hour.

Then James jerked upright with a gasp.

Sirius blinked awake instantly, already reaching for his dagger. “What? What is it?”

James clutched his chest, sweat dripping from his temples, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. He looked... shaken .

Sirius sat up beside him. “James?”

James turned to look at him. “A dream,” he said. “It was—gods, it was one of those dreams.”

Sirius froze. “You mean... the Apollo kind?”

James nodded tightly. “Yeah. It was a prophecy. I didn’t hear all of it clearly, but... there was a coffin. Fire. Smoke. Regulus standing in shadows. And Remus... the moon over his head, but he was alone, and bleeding. And you—”

He cut off.

“What about me?” Sirius pressed.

“You were drowning,” James whispered. “And you weren’t fighting it.”

Sirius felt his mouth go dry. “Shit.”

James ran a hand through his curls, still shaking. “This is bad, Pads. I don’t get dreams like this unless the gods are involved.”

“They already are,” Sirius muttered. “You saw it. The trident. The lake.”

James lay back beside him, staring up at the ceiling. “The dream... I think Regulus is in real danger. And Remus too. And maybe all of us.”

Sirius turned his head to face him. “Do you think the prophecy’s already started?”

“I don’t think we’re going to get a warning bell before it kicks in,” James said quietly. “It already has.”

Sirius exhaled, thinking of the lake, of the way Remus had shifted mid-battle, trembling and wild. Of Regulus—terrified, exhausted, but defiant.

“Remus saved him,” Sirius said softly.

James hummed. “I know.”

“I didn’t know he could do that. I mean, I knew he was strong, but... the way he fought, James. It wasn’t human.”

“Neither are we.”

“I know. It’s just... He didn’t flinch. Not when I yelled. Not when people tried to attack him. He stood his ground. For Regulus.”

James turned his head to look at him. “You’re scared.”

Sirius didn’t answer for a second. “He reminds me of me. But also... he doesn’t. He’s quieter. Smarter. But he’s also full of rage he doesn’t let out. I think—if someone doesn’t help him control it, it’s going to consume him.”

“Then help him,” James said simply. “You're good at protecting people. You always have been.”

Sirius let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

James leaned over and bumped their shoulders. “And now you’ve got sea powers. I mean, that’s objectively badass.”

Sirius snorted. “If I accidentally flood the mess hall, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.”

They lay in silence for a while.

Eventually, James murmured, “We need to be ready. Something’s coming.”

And Sirius, staring up at the stars painted on the ceiling, whispered back, “I know.”