PART I JAMES
James is pacing. It's the night before Christmas break and he's peeled himself away from the revelries in the Gryffindor common room. They decided to throw a full-on party this year and James tried to enjoy himself but...he couldn't shake the feeling that something was crawling under his skin, making him itch, making his fingers drum and his feet tap. An impatient energy that wouldn't be still.
He can't stop thinking about last Christmas. Can't stop thinking about the way Regulus fell apart when he came back. And he knows it's stupid, because the summer was longer and while Regulus was a little more distant when he came back he was still in one piece. Nothing like the winter. But he'd been in Scotland then and somehow that was different. Different than being trapped in that fucking house. James swears Grimmauld Place is cursed and the idea that tomorrow Regulus will be going back there—it makes him sick.
The door opens and James stops his pacing, Regulus pausing as soon as their eyes meet.
"Oh," he says, a little startled. "I didn't think you'd be here yet."
James tries to get his nerves under control, tries to make sure his voice comes out casual. "I can leave and come back if you want."
"No—"
"You seem disappointed."
He rolls his eyes. "James."
"I'm just saying, I'm perfectly fine to do a lap around the castle if you need to prepare yourself to be in my presence."
"Oh Jesus Christ—I just thought I would have time to wrap this you absolute terror."
James feels his brows draw together. "Time to—" he realizes that Regulus is holding something behind his back. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from getting too big. "Did you get me a present?"
Regulus gives him a flat look. "Don't make this into a big thing."
Oh, James is definitely going to make this into a big thing.
"That's adorable."
"Fuck you."
"Oh my god you were going to wrap it and everything!" James is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Did you get me a bow?"
"I honestly hate you so much."
"Nah, I don't think so. You don't get Christmas gifts for people you hate," James's joy in teasing Regulus is momentarily derailed by a new distressing thought. "Oh shit, I didn't get you anything."
"It's fine, I didn't really expect you to."
Which James knows he says to make him feel better but it actually makes him feel worse, because shouldn't he have? I mean, shouldn't Regulus have expected his boyfriend of more than a year to get him a gift? Hold on—boyfriend? Was James his boyfriend? That seemed right. That was probably right wasn't it?
"James," Regulus says, pulling him out of his thoughts. "It's just a Christmas gift, please stop freaking out about this."
"I'm not freaking out," James says automatically, and then; "I'll give you yours after the break."
Regulus rolls his eyes. "You really don't—"
But James holds up his hand. "It's going to be incredible, a hundred percent worth the wait."
"You're ridiculous," Regulus shakes his head.
"True, now," James rubs his hands together. "What'd you get me?"
There's just the smallest moment of hesitation, Regulus biting down on his lower lip like maybe he's going to try and take it back. But then he holds out his hand. There's a wooden box in his palm, a little bit wider and taller than a ring box.
James arches his brow as he steps forward. "You proposing Reg?"
"You wish," the younger boy says, though James doesn't miss the way his cheeks go pink.
He takes the box, it's a dark red wood with a brass clasp holding it closed. James runs his fingers over it for a minute like it's something precious, eventually popping open the clasp. At first he thinks that maybe it's some kind of jewel, but when he looks closer—
"Is this—"
"Take it out," James looks up and Reg nods towards the box, nervous. "Take it out," he says again, softly.
James turns his attention back to the miniature Quaffle, doing as Regulus asked and pulling it out of the box. The minute it's in his palm it starts levitating, at first James thinks that's all it's going to do but then it starts moving around his head like a little wingless hummingbird. He catches it in his hand, laughing before looking back at Regulus who still has his lower lip caught between his teeth. He shrugs like James just asked him a question.
"You're always playing with those bloody Snitches, but you're Chaser so I thought..." he shrugs again. "Makes more sense doesn't it?"
James looks at him and then back at the tiny vibrating ball in his hand. "How—Reg—how did you do this?"
Regulus tilts his head from side to side. "A bunch of boring Charm work really. The permanent shrinking charm was pretty easy but then I had to look into exactly what magic they use to make Snitches behave...well...Snitch-y, and modify it to work without wings," Regulus lets out a breath. "That, admittedly, took some time. But I think—"
"Reg?"
"—it worked out okay, it doesn't quite have the same abilities a Snitch has but—"
"Reg."
"—it should still work for, you know, messing around with. I'm almost positive the Charms will hold, they're all permanent, but if they start to fade just tell me and I'll—"
"Reg," James is standing right in front of him now, their toes touching, Regulus still not meeting his eye though he's stopped his rambling, letting out a shaky exhale.
James lets the silence continue until eventually Regulus speaks, voice very quiet. "I don't—I don't know if that's a good gift. I don't really have anyone to...give gifts to. Especially not—" he shakes his head, clearly irritated with his inability to explain himself.
"If you don't want it I won't be offended," is what he settles on.
"Regulus," James says again, softly. "Look at me, please?"
After a second the younger boy looks up, lips nearly brushing James's chin. "I love it," James says, voice still quiet.
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"Okay," Regulus exhales, shoulders inching away from his ears. "Okay, that's...good. I'm...that's good."
James keeps smiling. "Can I kiss you now?"
Regulus nods his head so fast he almost head butts James. "Yeah."
James brings his free hand to the back of Regulus's head, smiling as he moves the few inches to bring their mouthes together. It's sweet and warm, Regulus opening up for him, his body fitting against James's in a way that feels comfortable. Familiar. After a few minutes James pulls away.
"This is the best gift I have ever gotten."
Regulus rolls his eyes. "Okay, laying it on a little thick now."
But James just shakes his head, brushing their noses together. "No I mean it, it's—I never could have thought of this, it's—it's perfect." He kisses Regulus again and this time it's Reg who breaks away.
"I don't know if you saw..." he says, looking nervous again.
James quirks his brow. "Saw?"
"On the ball there's..." But Reg appears to be back to not finishing his sentences so James pulls away enough that he an inspect the ball still clutched in his hand. After a moment of turning it over something gold catches his eye. It's engraved. With a pair of linking letters:
J R
"Oh," James exhales, seeing their names together like that makes so many things bubble up in his chest.
"Sorry I—it might be a bit gauche. I don't...for some reason I just liked it, but it's easy enough to vanish."
James just shakes his head again and then starts laughing when he realizes that there are tears in his eyes. "Fuck Reg," he says, almost reverently. He looks at their initials for a moment longer before he places the Quaffle carefully back in its box and puts it on the coffee table next to him.
"I—" Regulus starts, but James already has his hand wrapped in Regulus's shirt, pulling him close again, their mouthes crashing together. It's messy and artless and wonderful. All teeth and tongues and Regulus's soft little gasps that make James want to howl. He pulls their bodies together, his hands in Regulus's hair, sliding down his back. He gets them under Reg's thighs, lifting him up, his legs wrapping around James's waist. He's taller than him like this and for a minute they pause, James looking up into Regulus's grey eyes.
"Thank you," he whispers.
Regulus laughs, the sound sending a thrill through James's body. They've felt so far away from one another recently that this is like being able to breathe for the first time in weeks.
"I want to give you everything James," Reg is holding his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. "Everything."
And then they're kissing again. James trails his lips across Regulus's jaw, Reg tilting his head back, giving James more access to his neck. James can feel him swallow against his lips. They stumble towards the bed, James spilling Regulus onto the mattress. Almost as soon as James crawls over top of him Regulus flips them, sitting up so that he straddles James's hips. His hands slide under James's shirt pulling it over his head with James's help.
"Reg," James says when Regulus starts trailing kisses across his chest, hands working on the buttons of his jeans. "Reg—"
"Yes," Regulus looks up, mouth hovering just above James's skin, stare intent. "It's a yes James, don't touch me but just let me—can I?" All broken sentences and flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.
James nods. "Yeah—yes. Fuck. Yes."
The pair of them scramble to get his jeans off—a team effort—inelegant and clumsy. James catches fire under Regulus's hands, teeth dragging against his hip, kisses pressed to the inside of his thigh. It's not enough. It's too much. James's hand finds its way into Regulus's hair, careful not to pull.
"Okay?" is all he can get out, several other noises escaping before he's able to shut his mouth again.
"Okay," Regulus murmurs against his stomach, causing James's muscles to jump. Regulus makes a meal of his whole body. Kisses and bites and licks, until James is a quivering mess. All keening noises and declarations of love cut off when Reg bites too deep, though he always apologizes with a kiss.
"Reg—Reg I can't—I'm gonna—"
And then, being the absolute monster that he is, Regulus takes him in his mouth and the world goes silent. James is nothing but boundless warmth and a magic that sings. He wants to be here always. He wants to be wrapped up in this boy. This love. He wants to never be able to wash it off his skin. Or out of his mouth. He hopes Regulus has left marks. Hopes he can see them in the morning. He'll wear them proudly—showing the day how they love in the dark.
James gives Regulus's hair a small tug—a warning. Regulus's grey eyes flashing up, holding his gaze through his long lashes. Like this is a challenge. Like they're playing chicken on the Quidditch pitch.
"Fuck—" James barely manages before it's all over. His whole body turning to jelly as he breathes hard, vaguely aware of Regulus pulling away from him. He makes a whining noise. "No, c'mere," he slurs, reaching out.
Regulus snorts, allowing himself to be pulled forward against James's naked chest. James hums happily, kissing his hair and his temple, before eventually making his way down to his mouth. After a few seconds Regulus rolls off again and this time James doesn't whine, knowing Regulus well enough to understand that he needs space. Needs to ground himself.
James sits up only long enough to pull his boxers over his hips before collapsing back down. Regulus is beside him, both of them staring up at the painting above their heads that has become so familiar to James that it almost feels like seeing an old friend. He knows all the faces so well he wonders if he could paint them himself—not that he's ever even held a Muggle paintbrush mind you. After a while Patroclus starts to look too much like Regulus—with his long black hair and pale skin—so James has to look away, chest aching. He turns to the actual boy next to him, fully dressed with his hair is a mess, lips swollen and red. He has his eyes closed.
"You okay?" James asks.
The corner of Regulus's mouth twitches up. "Yes. Very."
"Good," James tries to smile but doesn't quite manage it, not that it matters, Regulus's eyes are still closed. "You falling asleep?"
"No, just..."
James nods and then; "Yeah, okay." Because he does understand. At least in the way that he understands everything about Reg—knowing what he needs even if he doesn't always know why he needs it.
James watches his chest rise and fall, listening to the sound of his breathing. Trying to stay in that happy boneless post-orgasm feeling. But it doesn't work. The longer the silence stretches on, the longer he looks at Regulus, so peaceful and happy, the more his thoughts from earlier grow louder. Causing something that feels like a swarm of bees to fill up his stomach.
Eventually he inches his hand a little closer to Reg's on the mattress, brushing their pinkies together. Regulus turns his hand up and James takes it as the invitation it is, slotting his hand inside, fitting their fingers together like puzzle pieces. He squeezes and Regulus squeezes back.
James knows he should let it go, knows they've had this conversation so many times, knows it always ends in a fight. But he can't. Because he loves him. He loves him so much.
"Reg?" he says softly, still holding tightly to his hand. Regulus turns his head, eyes blinking open, he smiles a little, sleepy and soft.
"Mm?"
It hurts. Why don't the stories ever tell you how much it hurts? Even when your heart isn't broken.
"Don't go."
Regulus's expression instantly hardens, the shift so violent it makes James flinch. "Stop it."
"Reg—"
But Regulus is already pulling away, sitting up with his feet over the side of the bed and his back to James. "I'm tired of having this conversation," and he sounds it.
James sits up too. "Don't go back there."
"I have to."
"You don't. You know you don't."
"Christ James, I told you—I told you what would happen if I tried to leave. If they found out about you. You think that won't happen if I follow you home for Christmas?"
James wants desperately to reach out to him, to turn him around, but he doesn't. "I don't care."
Regulus laughs coldly. "No, of course you don't."
But James doesn't relent. "You think I didn't know that this—that us—was dangerous? That it went beyond Sirius finding out? I still chose this. I still want this. I've accepted the risk."
Regulus is gripping the mattress like he's about to fall off of it. "Fuck you."
"Fuck you right back."
"You could get hurt—killed," Regulus goes on through clenched teeth.
"I don't care."
"I care." The sincerity in his voice makes something in James's chest squirm. It's sweet, it is, and yet—
"Stop making me your excuse Reg," he sighs. "If you stay it's because you want to, not because you're protecting me."
Silence.
He can see the tension in Regulus's back. Misses the lazy way he'd held himself before. The soft smile he'd given James when he'd opened his eyes. But this is important.
"Don't go back there," he says again, when it's clear Regulus isn't going to speak.
"I. Have. To."
James feels something like anger flicker through him but he tries to push it down.
"I'm not asking anymore Regulus."
It's startling how quickly Regulus's head snaps around at that, finally looking at James. His normally cold eyes burning.
"Are you ordering me?" Regulus asks, voice sharp.
James could laugh. "No, I'm begging," and oh God does he ever sound like it. "Please, Reg, please, I'm so fucking scared for you I can't stand it. I'd take the Cruciatus over having to sit at home for two weeks knowing you're trapped in that house with those people."
A series of emotions flicker across Regulus's face so quickly that James can't make any sense of them. "Those people are my family."
But James shakes his head. "Family doesn't hurt you."
Regulus sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose before he gets off the bed, pacing. "You don't have to be scared," he says finally, sounding significantly less angry and more like someone trying to placate a small child. "I'll be fine."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
"I've always been fine."
James nearly chokes, barely able to get the words out of his mouth. "Surviving and being fine are not the same."
But Regulus only waves a dismissive hand at him. "I'll be fine."
It's getting harder and harder for James to keep the anger out of his voice. "Will Lucius Malfoy be there?"
Regulus jolts to a stop so suddenly James is worried he's hurt himself. When he looks at James the older boy almost cowers. "Don't you dare throw that back in my face."
James's heart sinks. "Throw—what? Reg, no, no! I'm not—" Somehow James finds himself on his feet too. "You can't be safe in a place like that, with people like that. You can't be fine. Not with him—around," at the thought of Malfoy James is always hit with the duelling urges to puke and punch someone. "I mean Jesus I'm not fine just thinking about it, it's been gutting me for days, the idea of you having to be around him. I can't stand it, I don't know how you can."
Regulus just stares back at him and James can't read him but he knows he's doing this all wrong, he just keeps hitting walls. Normally he'd be patient, he'd wear them down, but he doesn't think they have time. In fact, he's almost positive they don't.
"You feel so much," Regulus says eventually.
James lets out a sad sort of laugh. "You noticed."
Regulus just shake his head, curls all out of sorts, James loves it. "I shouldn't have told you about Lucius."
James feels the floor shift beneath his feet. "No, please don't—you should have. Of course you should have. Regulus I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It hurts you," he interrupts, James going silent. "I didn't want to hurt you."
"Reg," the name is barely a word, more an exhale as James collapses onto the bed again. He rubs a hand over his face. "Everything that hurts you hurts me. But that doesn't mean I don't want to know about it," he makes sure that Regulus is looking at him. "I can handle it Reg. I can handle all of it."
Regulus gives him a look that clearly says: 'obviously you can't' but James ignores it.
"I just wanna protect you."
Another long look before Regulus shakes his head. "You can't."
"I could if you'd let me."
"But then I wouldn't be able to protect you."
The face James makes must be really pathetic because Regulus instantly steps forward, forgetting to be mad or frustrated or whatever else he is with James. He pulls him forward and because James is still sitting his face ends up somewhere around Regulus's stomach. He doesn't complain.
"Hey," Regulus coos, face buried in James's hair.
"I don't know what to do," James says pathetically. "I hate that you won't leave. Maybe that's not fair but I do."
Regulus only kisses the top of his head. "I know."
"I hate that they hurt you."
He doesn't expect Regulus to respond really, but after a few minutes he hears: "Maybe they won't this time."
James wrinkles his nose, burying it further in Regulus's shirt. "What do you mean?"
He shrugs. "Maybe I'll fight back."
James looks up at him then, grey eyes on his. "Didn't you fight back before?"
Regulus shrugs, like it's no big deal. "Never saw the point."
James swallows with difficulty. "And now?"
Regulus's hand slides up James's neck to cup his cheek, thumb brushing just under his eye. "Now there's you."
They're quiet in the morning. Whispering like they're back in their dorms. For a while they just lay on their sides facing one another, James with his hand on Regulus's arm, or side, or in his hair. Always touching. Afraid to let go.
Eventually they have to get up though. Still not speaking. What else is there to say? They've both made their stances clear and James doesn't want to fight anymore. He pauses when they both get to the door, sighing and dropping his head onto Regulus's shoulder.
"Hey," the other boy says, hand making comforting circles on James's back.
James can feel something like tears at the back of his throat and he sure as hell isn't going to start crying right now—Merlin. So he doesn't say anything for a while, not until he's certain he has himself under control. Then he pulls back enough to look at Reg.
"I love you. You know that right?"
There's only a brief pause before Regulus starts nodding. "Yeah. Yeah I know that."
James leans forward and kisses the top of his head. "So fucking much Reg. So fucking much."
"Yeah," Reg says into his chest. "Yeah, me too. I love you too."
And that's all there is really.
PART II: SIRIUS
Sirius is sitting on the train, one knee bent, foot resting on the edge of the seat across from him. Remus had to go do Prefect duty and he's left Sirius alone with a sulking James—God knows why—and a sleeping Peter. Every few minutes Sirius checks the time only to groan internally at how slowly it's passing.
They're all going to the Potter's this year, well, except Peter technically, but his home is the closest to the cottage anyway so he'll be over loads. There was no way in hell Sirius and James were going to let Remus spend Christmas alone with Lyall—or, more likely, just alone because Lyall Lupin is a bastard who would absolutely bail on his son during his first Christmas without his mum. Besides, there's supposed to be a full moon over the break, Remus is already getting twitchy about it. In general Remus is never particularly over the chuffed about the whole werewolf thing but he especially hates it when he has to transform away from the shack. Sirius isn't sure what they're going to do when they graduate but he pushes that thought aside. A problem for another day.
Needing a distraction he gives James's shin a kick.
"Prick," James says, pulling himself out of Sirius's reach without taking his eyes off the window. He's been staring at the scenery all maudlin for like an hour. Sirius stretches out, kicking his shin again for good measure.
"Ow!" James hisses. "Fuck off." But at least he's looking at Sirius now—well, glaring anyway.
"You gonna tell me what's wrong?"
James is rubbing at his leg like a little baby. "I'm just tired," he mumbles.
It's work for Sirius not to roll his eyes. Instead he decides to shoot James a grin. "Yes, that happens when you spend all night out with your boy toy."
James really does roll his eyes, it's all big and huffy and dramatic. He should win an award. "Just leave it would you?"
He means it. Sirius can tell the difference—when James is pouting and when he's actually upset.
"Did something happen?" he asks, tone suddenly sincere.
James sighs, looking warn out, hands scrubbing at his face. "No. Nothing. I don't know."
Sirius feels something vaguely violent starting to grow inside him. "Did he hurt you?" he almost barks.
A pained expression comes across James's face. "I can't talk about it Pads."
"Because he doesn't want anyone to know?"
James nods and then stops himself, "I don't know, maybe that's not fair, it's...complicated."
James always gives everyone more credit than they deserve. Sirius knows that better than anyone. "It is not complicated," Sirius says sternly. "He's gone and made you miserable before Christmas and that's grounds for retribution." Sirius doesn't ask the obvious question—the 'Did he end things' question. Because James will tell him if he wants to. And because sometimes answering that question hurts more than the rest of it.
James gives him a weak smile. "Thanks but I don't think that'll be necessary."
"Um, it's definitely necessary. You look worse than that time someone nearly decapitated you with a Bludger," James rolls his eyes but Sirius continues. "I really think he's unclear on the rules here. I'm the only one allowed to ruin your life."
James snorts. "And you're so good at it."
"I'm an overachiever," they share a grin before Sirius gets earnest again. "Really James, I mean it, are you okay? You can tell me, I won't ask his name or like, birthday, or whatever you think is gonna give him away."
James gives him a sad look. "Thank you, really, but I just—I can't. I promised." And that's the end of it for James. He's made a promise, and James Potter never breaks his promises.
"Okay," Sirius says, even though it kills him.
James nods, going back to staring out his window. Sirius hates it—he has half a mind to scream at James about how stupid he's being but he refrains because he knows it wont accomplish anything. Once James loves someone it's kind of game over. The kid has claws that would put Moony to shame and once he gets them in you he never lets go. It's one of the things that Sirius likes best about him, one of the things that allowed him to relax around James. Knowing that he wasn't just going to walk away.
But right now it's fucking infuriating, because if it hadn't been clear already that the guy he's seeing is a complete douche-canoe, now he's out here making James miserable at Christmas.
Christmas for Christ's sake!
James loves Christmas. James loves Christmas so much that he's managed to make Sirius love Christmas, which before having met James, Sirius would have thought was impossible. Everything was terrible at Grimmauld Place, including holidays.
"I'm going to go...I'm gonna go find the girls," Sirius says eventually, because he's pretty sure if he spends another second in this compartment he's going to blow-up at James. James who is currently nodding his head.
"Alright," he says, not tearing his eyes away from the window.
It figures that James would have terrible taste in romantic partners. Things had been looking okay there for a while with Evans. I mean, sure, she was never going to go out with him (at least not until recently), but it seemed promising that he wanted her to. But this? This guy? Clearly a demotion.
Sirius skulks along the train, not really trying to find the girl's compartment, and maybe a little bit trying to run into Remus on his Prefect rounds. It's ridiculous how often he misses Remus when he isn't around, even when it's only for an hour or two. It's definitely gotten worse since they started being more than platonic. Since he's finally been able get his mouth on him. Been able to fall asleep with his head on his chest. Somewhere deep down he thinks he knew it would be like this. That once he got a little piece of Remus he would become insatiable. It's frightening really.
He enters an emptier train car, most of the compartment doors thrown open, revealing vacant chairs. There are always spots left over on the holidays when everyone isn't taking the train back to London. Some people's parents taking them right from the school, other people's parents not taking them at all. Sometimes Sirius wonders if that'd be him, if without James he would he be spending Christmas alone in his dorm room right now.
It's a stupid thought.
Without James he never would have left Grimmauld in the first place.
The sound of murmured voices pulls him up short. Obviously it's bad to eavesdrop blah blah blah, but then, if you're too stupid to cast a silencing charm or a muffliato whose fault is it really if you're overheard?
Sirius creeps slowly towards the voices, they're too quiet for him to make out but it definitely sounds like a girl and a guy. He pauses just before the doorway of one of the only closed compartments, making sure to hang back enough that his silhouette won't be seen through the glass.
"I want to keep in contact with you," are the first words Sirius is able to pick out. His brain spinning for a moment when he realizes that it's Mary who's speaking. "Two weeks is a long time, I wouldn't want you to go forgetting about me."
Oh.
Oh shit.
Maybe he shouldn't be listening to this. His ex-girlfriend getting mushy with her new guy is not something he needs to hear.
He's already walking away when he the reply comes, a little louder than those before;
"I don't think forgetting you is likely."
Sirius's feet freeze. He knows that voice. He'd know it anywhere.
It's Regulus.
Mary is with Regulus.
That thought alone seems to short circuit his brain for a moment and he doesn't hear anything else that's being said only the noise of his own pulse pounding in his ears. He knows that he ought to go back to his own compartment, that he ought to calm down and talk it out with James and Remus. He's too angry right now. Too caught off guard to handle this at all correctly.
So he's not sure how he ends up turning around, or throwing open the compartment door, or pointing his wand at his brother's face.
"Merlin Sirius," Mary says, shuffling out of the line of fire while Regulus backs up as far as he can against the window, hands in the air. At least they're both fully clothed, Sirius thinks before shivering in disgust at the image that conjures.
"I can't believe you," he hisses at Mary, eyes still on his brother who looks as apathetic about the whole thing as he always does.
"You can't believe me?" Mary repeats, a dangerous edge in her voice warning Sirius to tread carefully here.
Sirius doesn't answer her, doesn't know how to put into words what a fucking betrayal this is. I mean, Regulus? REGULUS. His brother, his fucking Death Eater brother? It's too close and too sore and too...mean. He wouldn't have thought Mary capable of it.
"Are you going to use that any time soon?" Regulus asks, voice flat as he nods at Sirius's wand. "Because if not I have places to be."
Sirius growls, not at all appreciating his brother's smug tone. He's not sure if he'd actually been planning on hexing him or not, but before he can think better of it he hears the word "Levicorpus" spit out of his mouth. Regulus's legs fly out from under him, pulling him towards the ceiling.
"Fuck," Regulus startles, while Mary rolls her eyes, collapsing into the seat behind her.
"What are you doing Sirius?" she asks.
He really has no idea. "What am I doing?" he demands. "What the hell are YOU doing? Regulus, Mary? Really? I thought you at least had standards."
Mary lets out a laugh that Sirius does not appreciate. "I'm not fucking your brother Sirius."
"No? Just hanging out in empty train compartments whispering sweet nothings into one another's ears?"
Mary is still looking at him like this is somehow funny. "Sweet nothings? Since when do I whisper sweet nothings into anybody's ears?"
"This isn't a fucking joke Mary."
"Well that's too bad because from where I'm sitting it's hilarious."
"Hilarious? Did he tell you he has the fucking Mark? Huh?" there's a palpable shift in the compartment, like everyone has collectively started holding their breath. "Well?" Sirius goes on when Mary just stares back at him in horrified silence. "Aren't you gonna laugh? I thought this was hilarious."
Mary just keeps staring at him, like she's trying to work something out. Sirius can't read her expression. Has no idea what it means. Eventually she turns her attention to Regulus.
"Is he telling the truth?" Mary asks, voice serious. Regulus looks at her and then away. Which, of course, isn't good enough for Mary. She stands on the seat she'd been sitting on, reaching out and grabbing hold or Regulus's arm. He barely tries to fight her, maybe realizing how futile it would be.
She pulls his sleeve back without ceremony and part of Sirius expects there to be nothing there. Nothing to reveal. Part of him wants desperately to have misread all the signs. But it's impossible to miss, a great ugly snake and skull squirming on his forearm. Sirius has to look away, something vile growing in the pit of his stomach.
"Does he know?" Mary asks, voice colder than Sirius has ever heard it. She's still holding Regulus's arm out and Sirius can see him starting to squirm, not able to meet her eyes.
"Does who know?" Sirius asks.
But Mary isn't paying attention to him anymore. "He doesn't does he?"
"Please," Regulus says, he's shaking, face shockingly pale for someone who's currently hanging upside down.
Mary looks at him like she's never heard the word before. "Please? Are you kidding me? You have this on your arm and you want me to, what, lie for you? Protect you? Do you have any idea what this means little boy?" she growls, shaking his arm, Sirius can see her nails digging into his skin, see the sick look on Regulus's face. "This means you want me dead and you have the fucking nerve, after everything else, to say 'please'?"
Regulus doesn't answer, of course he doesn't, silence has always been his shield. Anger Sirius's. The louder their mother got the quieter Regulus always became.
Mary shakes her head, throwing his arm away and stepping onto the ground, heading for the open door.
"Mary what's going on?" Sirius demands.
"Ask your bloody best mate," she doesn't stop, doesn't even look at him. Sirius Black likes to think of himself as brave but he does have some self preservation instinct and there is no way he is going to try and stop her.
For a moment after she leaves the pair of brothers sit in complete silence, neither Sirius nor Regulus able to look at one another or speak or move. Eventually Sirius sighs, waving his wand and letting Regulus drop back onto the ground, maybe a little less gracefully than he should have. Regulus doesn't say anything though, doesn't even stand up, just crawls into a sitting position with his back against the seats, hands gripping his knees.
"I take it you're not shagging my ex-girlfriend then," Sirius says finally.
"No," Regulus doesn't look at him, staring straight ahead, his voice strained like he isn't getting enough air.
Sirius waits for him to continue but he doesn't so eventually Sirius is forced to speak again; "What do James and Mary know?"
Regulus only shakes his head. Sirius does his best not to hex him again.
"Is it about Mary's attack?"
That gets a laugh out of Regulus but it's all twisted and choked and nothing like Sirius remembers. Regulus brings his hands up to his face, holding his head with his elbows on his knees.
"Regulus—"
"God I don't know, yes, a little. I don't know. Just go away." His words are muffled by his hands. Sirius considers going to find James who is more likely to provide him with answers anyway, but for some reason his feet won't move.
He looks so small,
says the annoying voice in his head.
He looks so lost.
"You said you felt like you were drowning," the words come out of him before he's even really decided to say them. They've been on his mind since the Veritaserum. He'd been meaning to find Regulus, to ask him about them, but it just somehow never felt like the right time.
"Not now—we're not doing this now," Regulus mutters. He's still shaking from earlier and for a moment Sirius wonders if he's crying but when Regulus drops his hands his eyes are dry.
"I know what it's like," Sirius says, watching his brother warily, "to be alone in that house."
Regulus shoots him a sharp look, the first since Mary left. "You weren't alone. You had me."
Sirius is surprised by the conviction in his brother's voice. Surprised by how much he means that. "Did I?" Sirius asks, not even in an attempt to be confrontational but just...honest. "Because I don't remember you ever being there Reg, not when it counted, not when I needed you."
Silence.
Sirius sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Bella, that day, the last one, she wanted you to torture me, you remember?"
After a brief pause Regulus nods.
"Would you have? If dad hadn't stepped in? Would you have done it?"
His brother is looking at him with his real face. Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but it's true. Most of the time when Sirius sees Regulus he's walking around with this expression of distain that is far too similar to their mother's. But here, now, he looks like Reg. Looks like the kid who used to follow Sirius everywhere, used to beg him to read stories and build snow forts. Who used to crawl into his bed at night when he was scared—not their parents bed, but his.
He'd always felt more like a parent than a brother to Regulus, maybe that's why it hurt so much. That when things started to get bad, really bad, Regulus disappeared. He may not have chosen their parents, but he certainly didn't choose Sirius either. Instead he'd gone and made himself as small and quiet as possible. As though hoping the world would simply overlook him. Never forcing him to make up his mind.
Eventually Regulus sighs, running a hand over his face before meeting Sirius's stare.
"Yes."
Sirius closes his eyes for a second. It hurts. But only a little. After all, it's not as though he hadn't been expecting it.
"See?" he says, opening his eyes again. "Alone."
Regulus only looks away, back down at his knees and Sirius realizes that he doesn't even feel angry anymore, just...sad.
"Joyeux Noel Reg," he says dryly, "J'espère que cette année tu apprendras à nager." He walks away before his brother's silence can get too loud.