PART I: SIRIUS
He blinks awake, jaw cracking as he yawns. He cast a warming charm last night but it must have warn off because he can feel the chilly bite of the wind through the cracked, lifeless house. It's fine though, his fur keeps him warm enough.
He doesn't have proper thoughts as a dog.
Or proper feelings.
He's still him, still in control. But he's also...animal. Everything is filtered through this new body, these new senses, this new brain. He's still Sirius. He's just Sirius the dog not the boy. When things become too much, too hard to handle, it's easier being like this. Things hurt—if not less—than different.
His first real thought, as he comes awake, is Moony.
Moony, Moony, Moony.
This place smells so strongly of him, he's in the floorboards, the mattress, filling Sirius's nose and wrapping around his chest. He whines, burying his head more fully in the blankets piled around him.
Moony, Moony, Moony.
Even as a dog Sirius misses him. But he can't go to him. Can't talk to him. Can't talk to anyone. Sirius huffs, scratching at the mattress. He just wants to be a dog. To hunt and sleep and not have to feel that ache in his chest every time he remembers that the most important people in his life have been lying to him.
It's funny really, that it's Regulus who has once again proven to Sirius that he can't place his trust in other people. Maybe he planned it this way. It would be so like their mother, to try and teach him a lesson by seducing his best friends away from him.
When will you learn brother? he can hear Regulus's snide voice so clearly that his lips actually curl back, teeth baring themselves at the very thought of him.
Everyone lets you down, the voice goes on. Everyone is out for themselves. I mean, how could you be so stupid? After everything? This is why the Dark Lord will win. Dumbledore's supporters are nothing but a bunch of disappointments and morons.
Another whine escapes Sirius without his permission.
No.
He can't go back.
Can't face any of them.
So he'll stay here. For now.
Hunt and sleep and wander around the forest. Then come back and lie in blankets that smell like Remus and pretend it doesn't feel like breaking apart.
PART II JAMES
James is a wreck.
Has been since Christmas. Maybe even before then.
He feels himself being torn in a million directions. Or maybe more accurately, in two directions, but with the force of a million hands. Sirius or Regulus. Who does he go after? Who does he fight for? Both, his thoughts insist vehemently. I love them both. I need them both. But he isn't sure life works like that.
Last night is a blur:
"Maybe we should go to Dumbledore?" Lily had suggested while she watched James pace the Prefect office once he could no longer bring himself to stare at the map. At the spot the Quaffle was hovering over.
"I don't know," James had said. Because he really hadn't. He knew Regulus wouldn't want that, that he didn't trust Dumbledore, and James wasn't sure he was wrong not to.
"He might help—it can't be—-they can't keep kids in Azkaban can they? There's no way that's legal."
James had made a noncommittal noise. As far as he knew there were no hard and fast rules about who could and couldn't be put in Azkaban, as long as their crime was bad enough. But what could Regulus have done? Alice said the Pureblood families were almost untouchable, so why had they allowed this to happen? All he could picture was Regulus alone in a cell. Was a Dementor hovering above him sucking the life out of him.
"James," he'd heard the door open almost at the same moment that he'd heard his name—cracked and desperate. One look at Remus was all he'd needed to know something was very very wrong.
Without thinking James had immediately stepped towards him. "What is it? What's happened?" His voice had come out soft, Remus pale, eyes red-rimmed. Remus did not cry easily.
"It's—he—" but he'd cut himself off, looking frantically at Lily.
"Evans can you give us a minute?" James had asked, not taking his eyes off of Remus.
"Oh—yeah, of course. Just—er—let me know if there's anything I can do okay?"
"I will, and thank you, again," he'd met her eyes briefly as she passed him on her way to the door.
"Fuck James, fuck," Remus said the minute she was gone. "I didn't mean to. I messed it all up. I don't know what to do."
"It's okay, whatever it is it's okay, just sit down alright?" James guided him to the couch while words continued to spill out of his mouth.
"I don't know where he is. I checked the map but I can't find him. I should have followed him but he was so angry with me—" his voice shook and cracked and fell apart, his words unravelling.
"Remus, breathe," James said calmly, placing a steadying hand on his friend's shoulder. "What is it? What's happened?"
Remus shook his head, tears in his eyes again, breaking James's heart. "He knows," he'd whispered, sending something cold down James's spine. "Sirius knows."
Now. Sitting in the Great Hall at Breakfast, Remus silent beside him, Peter glancing nervously between them, Sirius still missing, James has the overwhelming desire to hear his mother's voice. To be held by her. Told what to do. He tried to handle this himself, tried to fix things, and all he's done is make everything worse. He'd done a half-hearted search for Sirius last night but Remus was right, he wasn't on the map, James wasn't sure if he'd gone into town or what. He also wasn't sure what he would do if he found him.
Apologize?
Beg for forgiveness?
Ask for his help?
Look, I know you're angry at me, but your brother is currently in Azkaban and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it.
In the end it didn't matter. He couldn't find him.
Remus drops his fork onto the eggs he'd been pushing around his plate for the last fifteen minutes. "I'm gonna go look for him."
"Did you guys have a fight or something?" Peter asks from across the table.
Remus sighs. "Yeah," he runs a hand over his face, voice cracking. "Yeah, we had a fight and I need to just—" James knocks his foot against Remus's under the table, letting him know that he's there.
"I'll come with you."
Remus gives him a watery smile. "I'm not sure if that'll make it better or worse."
"Me either," James says honestly. "But I'm not sure I want you dealing with this alone."
"I'll help too!" Peter pipes up. "Obviously."
James watches Remus send him a wary look. "Listen, Pete—" But James puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"It's okay, I'm done lying," he tells him, as causally as he can manage while his heart hammers in his chest. "What's the point anymore?" though he still does a quick check with his eyes to make sure no one is sitting near enough to listen in.
"Lying about what?" Peter demands, starting to sound slightly exasperated.
"Are you sure?" Remus asks.
James just nods, letting out a deep breath. "Listen, Pete, I don't know how to really....break this news gently but—er—I'm seeing Regulus."
Peter looks back at him, expression blank, causing something heavy to form in the pit of James's stomach. He opens his mouth to try and explain when Peter suddenly smiles, shutting James up immediately.
"Um, yeah," he says, the "duh" clearly implied by his tone. "I know?"
"You know?" James and Remus say at almost the exact same time.
Peter looks between them like he can't figure out why they're so confused. "Yeah?"
James struggles to get his thoughts in order, a laugh that borders on hysterical falling from his mouth. "How do you know?"
Peter shrugs, biting into his buttered toast and chewing thoughtfully. "Well," he says, before swallowing, "for starters, you look at him like you want to eat him every time Slytherin plays Quidditch."
If James had been drinking he would have done a spit take. As it is, he makes several spluttery-choking noises, while Remus actually has the audacity to laugh.
"Plus there's been a lot of references to a mysterious "he" who's apparently in Slytherin since you went and broke into their bloody dorm after the party that one time," he shrugs. "Just put two and two together I guess."
James is still struggling to come up with something to say, scrubbing his face with his hands. "And you're...okay with it?" he finally manages, because he can't quite believe that Peter is willing to just shrug this off.
The other Marauder wrinkles his nose. "Well, I mean, I'd rather not watch you snog him. But as long as that's off the table...I don't see how it matters to me who you get with. I mean, it's weird as all hell, but..." he shrugs.
James shakes his head, turning to find Remus in a similar state of shock. "Jesus Peter," he finally manages, smiling for the first time in what feels like days. "You really are full of surprises, huh?"
"I guess," Peter says, sounding unconvinced as he continues to chew on his breakfast.
"Okay, well, as wild as this revelation has been," Remus sounds tired if not slightly amused. "I'm gonna go back to the room, check the map again, see if anything's changed."
James nods, pushing back from the table as both him and Remus get to their feet. "I'm done, I'll come with you."
"Guys, give me like five seconds!" Peter says urgently.
"You know we're just going upstairs right? You can meet us there."
"Or you could just wait!" Peter says indignantly, through a mouth full of beans.
James rolls his eyes. "Okay, but just so you know, if you choke you're gonna have to find someone else to give you the Heimlich, because there is no way—
"James," the tone of Remus's voice grabs James's attention immediately and when he looks over he finds him wide eyed and tense.
"Remus? What is it?" but Remus just shakes his head, swearing softly under his breath.
"Is he having a stroke?" Peter demands, somehow still with his mouth full.
"I don't—" James starts when a noise across the room catches his attention and he looks over without thinking. Just instinct. Looks over and feels his whole body jolt like he's just been thrown head first into a wall.
"Oh," James says weakly, his legs actually giving out under him as he promptly sits back down at the table, watching Regulus across the room, walking towards his friends. James has had this fantasy so many times over the last two weeks. Imagined this exact scenario. He's not so sure he isn't imagining it now.
Regulus looks thin and pale, but he's there. He's walking. He isn't in Azkaban, isn't having the soul ripped out of him. It takes everything in James not to call out his name.
"What is it? What's going on?" Peter asks looking around, but James can't speak, can't take his eyes off of Regulus, afraid that if he does he'll disappear again. If it weren't for the fact that Remus could clearly see him too James would have thought he was hallucinating.
Come on, James thinks as he watches Evan Rosier get up and give Regulus a hug. Come on. Look over here. Find me. Please.
Like he'd heard him, Regulus turns his head, eyes searching the Gryffindor table for only a second before they lock with James's. God that hurts. Makes something with claws start to scratch the inside of James's chest.
And then it's gone. Regulus turning away, sitting down with his friends. James feels like he's just run a mile, breathing in deep as he does his best to catch his breath.
Remus squeezes his arm. "Go on, go to him."
James just shakes his head. "I can't. Not here." But God does he want to.
"Go wherever it is you do, he'll follow, I'd bet anything," Remus gives him a sad smile and James finds himself searching his friend's face.
"Sirius?" he asks finally.
"Me and Pete will find him. You won't be any use now anyway," he nods his head in Regulus's direction. "Go on."
Feeling oddly numb James stands back up. "Yeah, okay, thank you."
"Of course," Remus says, and then; "James? Be careful, alright?"
James nods. "Yeah," he looks briefly over at the Slytherin table and then back to Remus, "Yeah I will. You too."
Remus lets out a huff. "I can handle him I promise." James knows that it's so much more complicated than that but there's no point arguing.
"I'll be back—I'll come find you okay? Don't do anything stupid," and then, with a half-hearted grin. "Not without me yeah?"
"Sure James," Remus says softly. James isn't at all sure that this is the right decision, but he does know that he'll never be able to concentrate now. Not until he speaks to Regulus. Not until he's able to touch him. To make sure he's real. To make sure he's okay.
He nods at Peter before squeezing Remus's shoulder and heading out of the Great Hall on shaking legs.
He isn't sure if Regulus even sees him leave, but the truth is, if he stays in that room for another second he's probably gonna do something stupid. Like kiss Regulus. Like cry. So he escapes to the Come and Go Room, heart aching the moment he steps inside and feels its warmth. It's been a little over a month since he was last here.
He pauses at the door, letting it all hit him, the memories and feelings that this room is saturated in. Then he takes a shaky breath in and sits on the end of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands.
"He's okay," he tries to tell himself, tries to get himself to believe. "He's okay, he's okay, he's okay." He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He's been so fucking scared, spending every minute since he'd last seen Regulus worrying. Knowing that Reg wasn't safe and that there was nothing he could do about it—even before he went missing. He squeezes his eyes shut. "He's okay, he's okay, he's okay." It comes out like a prayer, though James doesn't know who wizards pray to. After all, they don't need faith. They have magic.
The door opens and James's head shoots up, nearly tripping as he gets to his feet. Regulus is there, standing in front of the door, so fucking close James can't breathe. For a minute they just stay like that, staring at one another, the air filling up with something that buzzes and sparks and begs to be touched. But James doesn't know what to do, he's held in place by Regulus's eyes, by his stare, by all the things he feels for him.
It's Reg who steps forward eventually, breaking the moment apart as he walks right up to James, throwing his arms around his torso and pressing his face into his chest. James doesn't hesitate, instantly hugging him back.
"I have you," he whispers as he presses desperate kisses to the top of Regulus's head. "You're safe, you're safe, I have you."
Regulus doesn't answer, just squeezes tighter, trembling in James's arms and James has to fight back the burning in his eyes because he knows Reg needs him to be strong and he can do that. He can. For this boy he can push all the rest of it aside.
"I love you, you're safe, I promise," James's mouth is running away with itself, he isn't even entirely sure what he's saying only that he wants Regulus to know that he's there.
"Are you real?" Regulus asks after a few minutes, voice small and muffled by James's shirt.
James almost laughs, because honestly he could ask Regulus the same question. "Yeah," he says instead. "Yeah I'm real."
"Promise?"
James plants another kiss on the top of his head. "Promise."
Eventually James shuffles them towards the bed, wrapping them up in the warm blankets and holding Regulus to his chest. His hands rub soothing circles into his back as he continues his running monologue of comfort. After a few minutes Regulus tilts his head back, looking up at him.
"Hey," James says softly. "Hey, hi, how are you?" his hands cup Regulus's face, thumbs brushing against his cheeks.
Regulus's eyes flutter closed at the touch. "You know," he croaks, sounding a bit more like himself, "there was a second there, where I thought I'd never see you again."
James swallows around the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he whispers, "me too."
Regulus's eyes open again, as beautiful and intense as always. "I wanted to come back."
"I know," James says, because it's true.
"I thought you might..." James watches him fight with the words in his mouth. "I know I've disappeared on you before. But I told you I wouldn't do that again. And I don't want to break my promises anymore. Especially not to you."
James kisses his forehead, his cheek, his nose, his chin. "This okay?" he asks. Regulus nods, eyes closed again, face still in James's hands.
"I imagined you were with me," he says breathlessly. "It helped."
James's heart aches. "What did you imagine?" he asks quietly.
"Us, our home," Regulus says, nuzzling against James's palm, before turning to press a kiss there.
"Our home?"
"Mm, what it would look like—be like—if we had one. A flat in London."
James wrinkles his nose. "In London? Why?"
"Close to Quidditch."
James almost laughs. "Ah of course. You do realize we're Wizards right? So really anywhere is close to Quidditch if we want it to be."
Regulus cracks one eye open to glare at him and James has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"Are you really going to nitpick my fantasy?"
"No, sorry. Tell me about our flat in London."
Regulus closes his eyes again, humming contently. "It's small and cozy. Lots of carpets and blankets and pillows. Lots of fireplaces—though only one of them is connected to the Floo and we keep it off most of the time."
James isn't sure what to do with the information that Regulus's fantasy involves cutting himself off from the Wizarding world as much as possible.
"You make a mess, obviously."
James snorts. "Obviously."
"But you make up for it by cooking me hamburgers the Muggle way."
That feels like a punch to the gut. That Regulus remembers what he wrote in his letter. That he liked it. Wanted that too. Wanted everything James saw for them. He knows they're young. He does. But he can't help it, imagining his future with Reg.
"I'd learn to cook other things for you," he says finally, thumb stroking Regulus's cheek. "If you wanted."
"You can't cook too much though," Regulus says seriously. "Kreacher will get upset."
That makes James pause. "Kreacher?"
"My house elf."
"Right, but wouldn't he, you know, stay with your mum? At Grimmauld?"
Regulus's eyes open, voice surprisingly serious considering nothing they're discussing is real. "I couldn't leave him there. Not with her. I couldn't leave him behind."
There's something heartbreaking about those words, though James can't decide if it's the love Regulus has for his elf, or if its the pain he clearly feels about being left behind.
"Okay," James leans forward, kissing him softly. "I won't cook too much."
They lie there in silence for a moment, the outside world disappearing, becoming something fuzzy and far away. Something that can't touch them. And James luxuriates in the warmth of Regulus's body in his arms. The weight of him. The same monologue on loop in his head.
He's okay.
He's okay.
He's okay.
There's a shift in Regulus before he speaks again. James can feel it. Can feel him trying to put up his walls, to protect himself from James's reaction. He wants to tell him not to, that he doesn't need to. Not with James. Not after all this time. But he knows it would only make it worse. So instead he waits.
"I was in Azkaban," Regulus says finally, and even though James already knew that he still feels his breath hitch.
He nods, chin brushing Regulus's curls. "I know."
Regulus instantly pulls away, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You know? What do you mean you know?"
James tries to pull him back down but it's no use, Regulus is already sitting fully upright, blankets pooling around his waist. James sighs, pulling himself up too.
"You didn't think I was just going to sit around and do nothing did you?" he gives Regulus a self-deprecating smile.
"What did you do James?" he sounds worried, which, James supposes isn't entirely unwarranted.
"Developed my own tracking spell," like it's no big deal.
Regulus blinks back at him. "You—what?"
"We used the Quaffle you made me to track your magical signature. The minute you used magic we were able to find you."
Regulus still looks confused. "But I wasn't using magic, I didn't have my wand."
James shrugs. "Well you must have at some point because—" he cuts himself off as Regulus's face goes abruptly pale, the change so quick James is certain he's going to pass out.
"Oh," the next second Regulus is scrambling out of the bed, practically falling onto his hands and knees as he vomits on the floor.
James moves without thinking, sitting beside him and holding his hair away from his face. "You're okay, it's okay," he says softly, even though he has absolutely no idea what is going on.
Even after the vomiting stops Regulus remains on his hands and knees just breathing. James reaches for his wand and vanishes the mess.
"Okay?" he asks, hand on Regulus's back, he still looks frightfully pale as he leans back against the bed, bending his knees and dropping his head between them.
"Sorry," he says weakly.
"For what? You don't need to—you don't need to apologize to me Reg." Just tell me what I said, he almost asks, just tell me what happened to you. Though, to be honest, he's not sure he could bear hearing it, not sure he could bare knowing that more damage had been done to this boy that he loves so much. More damage he couldn't protect him from.
Eventually Regulus lifts his head. "That means you didn't find me until last night?"
James nods. "Yeah."
Regulus smiles dryly, loosening some of the tension in James's chest even though when he speaks his voice still sounds strained. "And what exactly were you planning to do with that information? Break into Azkaban?"
"I was thinking about it," James shrugs, because he had been.
Regulus laughs weakly. "Of course you were," a few moments of silence pass before he lets out a deep breath, shoulders slouching forward. "I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you weren't there. I don't want you to ever—" but he cuts himself off, shaking his head.
"Reg," James says softly, hand going to the back of his neck, he feels Regulus sag into his touch. "What happened?" he can't help it.
Regulus's mouth turns down as he shakes his head. "No—I—can't—I—"
"Shh," James squeezes his neck lightly. "It's fine, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to tell me, okay?"
Regulus nods, breathing in and out slowly. "Thank you."
"Of course."
They sit side by side on the floor, James in no hurry to move, happy just to be near him. Eventually Regulus leans into James body, resting his head on his shoulder, James's hand sliding down around his back, pulling him close.
"Reg," he sighs eventually, chin resting on the top of his head. "There's something I have to tell you."
Regulus laughs without humour. "Of course there is."
James swallows, throat tight. He's not sure how Regulus is going to react to this but he'd rather he hear it from him first, so he has time to prepare himself before it all inevitably blows up.
"Sirius knows."
There's a beat of silence.
"Sirius knows what?"
James sighs.
"He knows about us."
PART III REMUS
Remus stands in front of the whomping willow, watching Peter scurry through the grass towards the knot in the trunk. He's embarrassed that he didn't think of it earlier. Or at all, for that matter. It was Peter who suggested it, after they had once again fruitlessly searched the map for Sirius's name.
It's so obvious. Remus doesn't know how he missed it. Except maybe that he tries not to think about the Shack. Tries to forget it exists. Forget why this big hulking tree has been planted here in the first place. It's never occurred to him that the Shack could act as actual shelter and not just a glorified cage.
The tree branches slow to a stop and a minute later Peter is back, transforming into himself again.
"Sure you don't want me to go with you?" he asks, straightening up, breath heavy after the run.
"No, thanks. If he's in there I think...I think it's probably best if it's just me."
Peter nods, not looking the least bit put out at the idea of missing the altercation.
"Well alright then," he claps Remus good naturedly on the back. "Good luck."
Remus shoots him a weak smile. "Thanks."
He hates every step he takes towards the Willow. Every step along the dark, damp passage underneath it, every step into the dusty, creaking house. He's trembling by the time he reaches the top of the stairs.
"Sirius?" he calls out, resisting the urge to pull out his wand. He strains his ears but he can't hear anything—well, besides the wind. It's freezing in here, his teeth already chattering as he walks along the hallway towards the bedroom. In the light of day he can make out more of the faded wallpaper. Of the desperate scratches on the walls. He shivers. Most of them are old. From his first and second year, before he had the others. Though some are undoubtedly also from last year.
He tenses when he reaches the bedroom but it's empty, just like the rest of the house. Remus sighs, sagging against the doorframe. It'd been a good idea, better than any Remus had been able to come up with, but still wrong.
He's stepping back into the hallway when he hears it—a door, steps on the floor, heading for the stairs. Something isn't right though, the steps clatter, like heels on hardwood, and there are too many of them, coming too fast. It isn't until he sees the dark head cresting the top of the stairs that he realizes, of course, what the reason must be.
"Oh," Remus says stupidly, as a large black dog comes to an abrupt halt at the other end of the hallway. "Hi."
There's another moment of silence before Padfoot growls, baring his teeth and flattening his ears.
Remus arches his brow. "Are you going to bite me Sirius?" he asks, with more bravado than he feels. "You think I'm afraid of teeth? Of claws? Me?" he almost laughs, opening his arms wide. "Go on then, what's a few more scars right?"
The growling promptly turns into a whine that's so pitiful Remus almost takes it back. But before he can speak again Padfoot is moving, he brushes past Remus and goes into the bedroom behind him without so much as a sniff in his direction. Remus takes a deep breath before following after him.
Padfoot is curled up in the corner, back to the door and therefore also to Remus. Remus watches him for a few moments before sighing.
"I'm sorry."
Padfoot huffs.
"I know. Believe me I know. I just—I mean at first I was in shock, and everything between us was so back and forth last year that I hardly wanted to add to that—"
Padfoot growls and Remus doesn't need words to know why. Whatever else they were, they were friends first. Family. Remus should have told him. Should have made James tell him. No excuse can make up for that failure of loyalty.
"I know," he repeats desperately. "Look, I told him it was fucked up okay? I told him not to do it but you know James," he stares at the dark mass in front of him, head still buried. "I didn't want to hurt you. But I didn't want to hurt him either."
Nothing. No more grumbling, no barking, not even the twitch of his tail or ears. The house is silent.
"Sirius," Remus whispers finally. "Please."
If anything, Sirius seems to curl more into himself. Like he's trying to disappear. Remus feels the desperate desire to reach out to him, to burry his face in his fur, but he refrains. Maybe he should leave, give Sirius the time that he clearly needs. The problem is, Remus can't quite make himself walk out the door. It's as though everything in him is pulling him towards the black dog in the corner.
"They're not just fooling around," he says finally. "I'm sure you don't want to hear that but I'm also sure that you know it already since James is your best mate and you and I are both well aware that he's never had a casual emotion in his life," and since Remus continues to get the silent treatment he decides to keep going, feeling an uncomfortable mix of emotions pressing against the inside of his skin.
"I thought that Regulus was just using him to get at you, but he isn't. Fuck Sirius, they love each other. I mean properly love each other. So I don't know what I was supposed to do? It was wrong to lie, I know it was, but I couldn't break James's heart like that, not when I knew that it was something real."
It happens so fast that Remus barely has time to process it. One second Sirius is a dog and the next he's breathing heavily on the floor, clumsily pushing himself to his feet. That he's still angry is clear but Remus feels his heart skip at the sight of him anyway. At the sight of his Sirius.
"Regulus doesn't love him," Sirius says, voice all twisted, though whether that's from anger or the transformation Remus doesn't know.
"I know you don't want—"
But Sirius cuts him off. "What I want is irrelevant, clearly," he sneers at the last word. "Regulus doesn't love him, Regulus doesn't love anything but himself. That's why he will always choose them. The family."
Remus knows that Sirius feels betrayed, feels abandoned by Regulus, who handed him over to their mother time and time again. Who turned his back when Sirius cried out for help. He also knows that Sirius doesn't hate his brother. No matter what he says. Because none of that would hurt so much if he did.
"Sirius—"
"He has the Mark."
Remus's whole body goes cold. "What?"
"He has the Mark," Sirius practically spits on the floor. "I told you. He chooses them. Every time he chooses them."
"How do you know?" Remus asks desperately. He isn't concerned for Regulus, but James—James won't recover from this. Not if it's true.
"I've seen it."
Remus closes his eyes briefly. "Fuck" he hisses under his breath, taking a few seconds to appreciate what an absolute clusterfuck of a situation this is before he speaks again. "Regulus does love him," he says wearily and without really knowing why.
Sirius scoffs.
"His Patronus," Remus goes on, opening his eyes so he can see the confusion flicker across Sirius's face. "Regulus's Patronus is a Stag."
For a moment neither of them speak, and then Sirius starts shaking his head.
"No—it can't—and even if it is, so what? That's just—that's just a stupid myth—it isn't real, it doesn't mean anything." There's a sort of desperation in Sirius's voice that Remus doesn't understand. Why, he wants to ask, why is it so important that Regulus doesn't care?
"It's real," Remus says, "It's in our textbooks." But Sirius is still shaking his head.
"It's the kind of bullshit story you tell kids, Patronuses and soulmates, it's a fairytale, it doesn't—" Sirius goes silent as Remus raises his wand.
"Expecto Patronum."
There's a bright flash and then that flash grows legs and feet and a tail, running circles around Remus before it bounds across the room and sits at Sirius's feet. Sirius stares down at the dog and then back up at Remus, eyes wide.
"I'd been afraid," Remus has to stop and clear his throat, his voice too tight, "in class," he clarifies, "to really try. Afraid it would be a werewolf. But after I found out about Regulus I thought..." he trails off, shrugging and then after a minute he smiles, even if it is a bit fragile. "As soon as I saw him I thought "of course" you know? Of course it's y—you." He stutters on the last word, Sirius still staring at him like he can't believe what he's seeing.
"So I know it's real," Remus presses on, fidgeting under Sirius's gaze. "Because I know how I feel about you and it's—" he exhales, trying to get his words in order. "I think it was inevitable, me loving you. Does that make sense? Like I was always going to love you no matter what. Even if we never met, never sat in that compartment together, never got sorted into the same house or the same dorm. Even if I never knew you existed you would still be the person I loved and I would spend my whole life wondering where you were," he swallows. "I don't just love you because you're here. I don't just love you by accident. I love you because I was always going to love you. In this life and the next life and the one after that. The universe could have placed us on different planets and it would still be you."
The phantom dog gives a little bark, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he paws at Sirius's feet. Remus watches the anger bleed out of Sirius as he sags back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes.
"It's the same. I feel the same," he says, sounding incredibly tired. Despite it all, those words make Remus's heart skip.
"Yeah?"
Sirius opens his eyes, looking right at him. "You really think you're in this alone?"
Sometimes,
Remus thinks before he can stop himself.
Sometimes you feel so far away.
But instead all he manages is; "I don't know."
Sirius huffs, like he's still a dog. "I love you Remus, I love you too fucking much." Something about his tone doesn't sit right with Remus.
"You don't make that sound like a good thing?"
Sirius sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to do this forever."
Remus's chest squeezes. "Do what?" he whispers.
"Hurt each other."
The dog at Sirius's feet flickers and then goes out, dissolving into a faint mist. Remus honestly doesn't know what to say, but for the first time all day Sirius seems willing to talk.
"I hurt you with Snape, you hurt me with Regulus. I mean, is this what it's going to be like? Just letting each other down for the rest of our lives? Because I don't think I can handle it Moons. It's too fucking painful."
Something desperate is clawing at Remus's chest. Because he can't lose him. He doesn't have anything else. Doesn't have a mum, doesn't have a home, or a future, shit, he barely has a dad. Loving Sirius is the only thing that feels like his anymore. And he knows that he'll always have to share him with James, but he's made peace with that, because James will never get to kiss the freckle just below Sirius's left ear, or feel the way Sirius's hands tremble for the first few seconds after they find skin, like it's a thrill every time. He'll never know how Sirius tastes. Those things will always be Remus's and they're enough. More than enough.
"Are you...ending things?" Remus finally forces himself to ask.
Sirius gives him a humourless smile. "No, I can't. I think maybe I should, but I—" he breaks off, shaking his head, gathering his thoughts. "It's like you said. Loving you is inevitable. No matter where I am or who I'm with. It'll always be you, I think."
Somehow those words hurt and heal in equal measure. "But you want to? You wish you could?" he pushes, because he needs to.
Sirius sighs. "I just don't understand how we ended up here," he says honestly. "And I don't know how we're ever going to get out. Because you don't trust me—"
"I do," Remus takes a step forward, desperate. To convince Sirius. To convince himself.
"No," Sirius says softly. "You don't, and that's okay, really, I get it. But now...now I don't know if I trust you either."
A wounded noise comes out of Remus before he can get himself under control and Sirius looks up at him with sad eyes.
"So where do we go from here?"
It takes a minute before Remus realizes that the question isn't rhetorical, that Sirius is genuinely hoping for an answer. And God does Remus wish he had one. He wracks his brain, trying to find something, anything, but his parents weren't exactly the paragon of a healthy relationship and he finds that he actually has no idea how this is supposed to work. How you're supposed to love someone.
"I don't know," he says eventually, feeling helpless.
Sirius nods. "Me neither."
A tense moment of silence passes, the winter wind whistling through the rotting house.
"Do you—" Remus has to stop to clear his throat. "Do you want me to go?"
Sirius looks up at him and after a long minute shakes his head. "Stay? I can't—I can't go back yet. I can't face him, I'm not—" he squeezes his eyes shut, hands in fists. "I'll lose it, I know I will. I just, I need more time to figure out how to...." he lets out a breathy laugh that lacks any semblance of joy. "How to live with this."
Remus nods as Sirius's eyes open again.
"But I'd like it if you stayed."
Remus doesn't need to be asked twice, he walks over to Sirius's side of the room, sliding down the wall to sit next to him on the floor, Sirius following after. For a moment they stay like that, next to one another but not touching, not speaking, until eventually Sirius sighs, his body sagging against Remus's, his head resting on his shoulder.
"I'm still mad at you," he says quietly.
Remus's heart squeezes as his arm reaches around Sirius's back and pulls him closer.
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
Remus almost laughs at that. "It's okay. As long as you still want me here."
Sirius sighs, turning his head and burying his face in the crook of Remus's neck. "I want you here," he says into his skin. Remus squeezing him a little tighter.
"Part of me," Sirius goes on after brief a pause, words so quiet that Remus can barely hear them even with Sirius's mouth so close to his ear. "Hates it because it's like Reg is rubbing it in my face that I wasn't enough."
Remus blinks, surprised by this sudden turn in the conversation. "What do you mean?"
Sirius lets out a hot breath against his neck. "Those last few years, when we were in that house together...there were moments when it felt like I could have died and he wouldn't have cared. And if he's just a heartless bastard then it's not personal you know? But if he isn't...if he's capable of loving someone..."
And suddenly Remus understands. "Then why couldn't he love you?"
There's a moment of silence before Sirius speaks again. "I know that James is better than me."
"Sirius—"
But Sirius cuts him off, clearly not in the mood to be placated.
"But then there's this other—this other part of it. Because if he—if he loves James, I mean actually, properly loves him, then that means he can't really be one of them can he? Not completely. There has to be at least some part of him that wants something else. Something different."
"Maybe, yeah," Remus says, not entirely sure.
"But I didn't know—I didn't think that part of him still existed. Because if it does then—" Sirius's voice cracks and Remus can physically feel him getting frustrated with himself. "That's the difference."
Remus's brow furrows even though Sirius can't see it. "The difference?"
Sirius sighs. "Between him choosing to stay," he says weakly, pain thrumming through his words. "And me leaving him behind."