Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

19 June, 1979 - Gone

Sirius wasn't sure he had ever been as afraid as he was when he came home that Tuesday morning. He and Remus had come home from the Order meeting expecting nothing unusual. It had been a tense meeting to say the least. The Death Eaters were gaining ground and the Order was small and the Ministry wasn't doing nearly enough. Minister Minchum didn't seem to realize that this was only going to get worse, that certain rules were going to have to be bent. That this wasn't some passing radical movement. This was war.

So Sirius had walked in tired and hoping to spend a simple and quiet day with Lavinia, ignoring the war and the chaos and all of the rest of the world. She'd been sitting on the couch when they'd come in and though she hadn't responded to their greetings, she'd stood at the sound of their entrance. Sirius had supposed she was probably tired from the night shift and couldn't be bothered with words. But she'd walked to the mantle, not towards them.

In retrospect, that should have been his first clue. But at the time, he'd thought nothing of it.

He was halfway through taking off his shoes when she screamed and he heard the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass. He'd nearly fallen over in shock. He had never heard anyone make a sound like that, much less Lavinia, and it tore through him, slicing through his skin and breaking his bones. It was full of rage and fear and a pain the likes of which he couldn't fathom.

He and Remus had started hurrying towards her before Sirius's brain had managed to catch up to him. And when he'd reached Lavinia, frantic and with only one shoe on, she had been walking. Her face had been blank, her eyes skimming over the world without seeming to take any of it in. There was no trace of any of the emotions she had released just a moment ago. There was no trace of any emotion at all.

He thought later that it would have been easier to bear if she'd been crying. If she'd been screaming or sobbing or... or anything. But she hadn't been. She'd been silent and blank and it had terrified him.

Too many questions had begun piling up all at once and he'd barely known where to start. What was going on? What was wrong? Was she hurt? What had happened? And she had answered none of them. The blank stare she'd given him had rattled him to his core and then, with no warning at all, she'd shoved him away so hard he'd nearly fallen over, stumbling backwards only to catch himself on the coffee table. By the time he recovered from his shock she was running out the door.

He should have followed her. He should have sprinted after her without a second of hesitation. But he hadn't. He had stood there, utterly shocked with no idea at all what was going on.

That is, until Remus, who had been inspecting the wreckage of the frame that had smashed into the coffee table, showed him the picture she had broken. It was the one of her and Regulus. The one he had never entirely decided whether he hated or loved.

Understanding had begun trickling into his head. There was a letter on the table, coffee spilled on the floor and the picture.... Something had happened with Regulus. Or to Regulus. And Sirius could think of only one thing that would make Lavinia - soft, quiet Lavinia who had always kept her pain as silent as she could - scream like that.

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to read the letter. But he didn't. He folded it up and left it there on the edge of the coffee table. He wasn't going to violate her privacy like that. Not when she was already this on edge. She could tell him herself. It might be better too, might help her process it if she said it out loud.

That and... and if he was honest, he wanted to be wrong. He so desperately wanted to be wrong. Not for himself. Whatever Regulus had been to Sirius since he'd left home in his sixth year was nothing compared to what Regulus had been to Lavinia. He could have moved on easily, maybe too easily, if it was just him. But it wasn't. And that scream...