Reading Time: 150 Minutes

Title: Do Not Go Gently (Into That Good Night)
Author: enigmaticblue
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Drama, Family
Relationship(s): Gen, some Regulus Black/OFC and James/Lily
Content Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 92,000
Summary: Arcturus Black is a man facing death—a slow, wasting death—and he will see his line secured if it’s the last thing he does, no matter what he has to do do in order to do it. And that includes wrangling his grandsons.
Artist: greeneyesblue

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Chapter 4

Sirius wakes up in one of the most comfortable beds he’s been in, feeling strangely safe. He’s beginning to feel that his grandfather can be trusted. He doesn’t want to rely on that feeling, but Arcturus had been kind and welcoming to all of his friends, including Remus, and that means a lot to him.

Sirius has been informed that his grandfather wants to meet with him and Remus that morning, and so he pulls on some of his nicer clothing. Breakfast is served buffet style in one of the smaller dining rooms, and the array of food would probably be dizzying if they weren’t all used to the amount and variety served at Hogwarts. Two of Regulus’ friends still seem incredibly impressed, though, probably because they’re not used to seeing this much food at home.

James sidles up next to him as he’s filling his plate. “What do you think your grandfather wants with you and Moony?”

Their Marauder names are filtering more and more into their regular conversation. “If I had to guess, it probably has something to do with his little furry problem.”

James grimaces. “But what if—“

“He wouldn’t have invited Remus if he meant him harm,” Sirius points out. “And he made sure we wouldn’t be here during a full moon.”

James nods. “Okay, I trust you, even if I don’t necessarily trust him.”

They take the other end of the table from Regulus and his friends, although Sirius does exchange a courteous nod with his brother.

Remus is the next to join him, and Sirius can tell that he’s nervous based on the very small portion of porridge and fruit that he grabs for breakfast. Normally, Remus eats a little more than that in the morning.

“Don’t worry so much,” Sirius whispers. “It turns out that my grandfather’s bark is a lot worse than his bite.”

Remus frowns at him. “Dog jokes, really?”

“If anyone is allowed to make a dog joke, it’s me,” Sirius replies with a grin. “I could provide a demonstration right now if you’d like.”

“We’re keeping that quiet,” James reminds him. “What’s the point of having a secret super power if it’s not a secret?”

“Ah, Prongs,” Sirius teases. “You’re just mad that your form isn’t as useful as ours.” He winks at Peter, who has just joined them. Peter grins, having come around to both his form and his nickname.

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” James replies with an eye roll.

The banter does what Sirius had been hoping it would do, because Remus has relaxed enough to eat his porridge.

When his grandfather enters, they all start to stand, but Arcturus waves a hand. “Don’t worry about formalities at breakfast,” he says. “Sit, enjoy. Sirius, when you and Mr. Lupin are done, please join me in my study.”

“Yes, grandfather,” Sirius says readily. There’s a twinkle in Arcturus’ eye, a pleased smile playing around the corners of his mouth that suggests he has nothing bad in mind for them.

Remus speeds up his eating, probably wanting to get the meeting out of the way. Arcturus had said the night before that he has a dueling instructor coming later that morning for anyone who wants to participate, and that there are practice Quidditch hoops set up on the grounds for anyone who wants to go flying.

It feels like his grandfather is really making an effort to ensure they have a good time, and will want to return.

Remus finishes his porridge, and pushes his bowl aside. It disappears a few seconds later, his grandfather’s house elves as efficient as always. Sirius quickly finishes off his eggs and toast, and says, “Shall we?”

Remus shrugs. “I suppose it would be rude to keep him waiting.”

Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Chin up, Moony. I’m sure it’s nothing bad.”

Remus grimaces and self-consciously touches one of his scars. “‘Nothing bad’ doesn’t necessarily mean it’s anything good, Padfoot. He might be trying to buy me off so I’ll stop hanging around you lot.”

“If that’s what he was going to do, he’d have got you alone, without me,” Sirius points out.

Remus always seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, and this situation is no different. There are times when Sirius wonders just how frightening it must have been for Remus, to be safe and loved and secure one moment, and then subject to a terrible infirmity the next, through no fault of his own.

Sirius raps briefly on the door jamb as they reach his grandfather’s study, and his grandfather calls, “Come in, boys, and close the door behind you.”

They do as they are bidden, and Remus takes the seat across from his grandfather’s desk when Arcturus says, “Please, have a seat, and don’t look so apprehensive, Mr. Lupin. I’d like to help you.”

Remus swallows audibly. “Yes, Lord Black.”

“Has my grandson told you about my own illness?” Arcturus asks.

Remus glances at Sirius, clearly at a loss, and Sirius is the one to reply, “The only people I told were James and Remus. I knew they wouldn’t tell anyone our private family business.”

Arcturus nods. “I’m happy to know that you understand that, my boy, and I think Mr. Lupin has demonstrated that he’s able to keep a secret.”

Remus nods slowly. “Yes, of course, Lord Black. I’ll hold your secret as tightly as my own.”

“Good,” Arcturus says. “The healers aren’t sure how much time I have left. It could be months, years, or even decades, but there will come a time, sooner than I’d like, where I’ll have to retire from public life. I thought it imperative that I ensure the Black line would continue. Do you understand?”

Remus frowns. “I think so, but I’m not sure what that has to do with me.”

“I have this illness, not because I’ve overindulged, or because I have done something to deserve it, but because fate is sometimes unkind,” Arcturus says. “You are my grandson’s friend, and I know how loyal Sirius is. I’d like to help you manage your own affliction for his sake.”

Remus’ expression is incredulous. “No offense, sir, but my parents have seen healers and specialists, and they’ve all said there’s nothing to be done but to suffer through it.”

“Have they gone to the goblins?” Arcturus asks, his tone gentle.

Now Sirius can see a certain fearsome hope dawning on Remus’ face. “Everyone knows how much goblin-made charms cost,” he says slowly. “My parents wouldn’t have had the means to even speak to a goblin artisan on my behalf.”

“Then perhaps your luck has changed,” Arcturus says, “by making friends with my grandson.” He pushes a small box across the desk. “Go ahead.”

Sirius watches as Remus takes the box with shaking hands, opening it with Sirius looking over at it. It’s a beautiful piece, with no outward indicator of what it’s for, just an unfamiliar runic symbol in a circle, worked in some kind of shiny silver metal, hanging from a black leather cord.

“I’ve been informed it can be worn as a bracelet or a necklace,” Arcturus says. “The cord will resize itself according to your needs.”

Remus takes the charm and tugs it over his head, and sure enough, the cord stretches, resizing until the medallion is at the hollow of his throat.

“You’ll feel a bit unwell during the full moon, but as long as you’re wearing that, you won’t transform,” Arcturus says. “You’ll be safe.”

Sirius hears the unspoken words—and Sirius will also be safe.

Remus swallows audibly. “I can’t thank you enough, Lord Black.”

“Watch out for my grandson,” Arcturus replies. “That will be thanks enough.”

When they leave the study, James and Peter are waiting for them, and James asks, “Well?”

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” Sirius says, putting a hand on Remus’ shoulder, since he seems at a loss.

“What happened?” James demands once they reach Sirius’ favorite library. “What did he say to you?”

Remus shakes his head. “No sense getting angry, Prongs. Lord Black provided me with an amulet from the goblins that will prevent the transformation.”

James sprawls out on one of the leather-bound couches in the library. “What did he want in return?”

“He wanted to protect Sirius,” Remus replies dryly. “If I’m safe to be around, then he doesn’t have to worry about me infecting his grandson.”

Sirius shifts uncomfortably, but he thinks Remus probably has the right of it. “He did it for me,” he agrees, “but—“

“I’m not ungrateful,” Remus quickly says. “This is, by far, the nicest thing that someone has ever done for me, and the only thing he’s asked from me is something I was already inclined to do.”

There’s a bitter note in his voice that Sirius doesn’t quite understand. “Then why are you so upset?” he asks.

“Why would your grandfather do something so kind?” Remus asks, his expression troubled. “When Dumbledore didn’t even mention the possibility? My parents wouldn’t have had the resources, but Dumbledore could have at least mentioned it.”

Sirius frowns. “Maybe Dumbledore didn’t know.”

“Maybe,” Remus says, but he doesn’t sound convinced by that.

Peter’s expression is hopeful. “Do you think your grandfather would help me?”

“I’m sure he will, when the time comes,” Sirius replies.

“Are we going to take dueling lessons today?” James asks, apparently deciding to change the subject to something a little more lighthearted.

“I think we’d better,” Sirius replies. “We’ll be in the war soon.”

Remus nods resolutely. “We’d better go then.”

Sirius isn’t sure how much of what his grandfather has done is a selfish desire to protect him, and how much might be at least a bit altruistic. But either way, Sirius is grateful, and he’s going to learn everything he can from the dueling instructor.

~~~~~

“Are we really going to take dueling lessons?” Byron asks. “Why should we? We have no interest in the war.”

Elias snorts. “That doesn’t mean the war won’t find you, you know. All it will take is for one Death Eater to decide that you’re easy prey. Best to make sure you can defend yourself.”

“We’ll have to deal with your brother and his friends,” Violet complains, looking at Regulus. “Lupin seems decent enough, but Potter is an arrogant arsehole.”

“And Pettigrew is a bootlicker,” Myra agrees. “But you did say that they protected you from Rowle, Reg.”

“They did,” Regulus replies. “And I’m not saying that my brother can’t be an arsehole, but we all can be at times, and he’s the heir to the House of Black.”

To Regulus, that’s about the end of it. His grandfather has made his choice, and Regulus believes, down to his bones, that he has an obligation to his family to support his brother as best he can.

Regulus has been schooled on what it means to be a Black since before he can remember. It’s just that his grandfather has slightly altered the equation.

He’s chosen his friends wisely, and all of them understand what having family means. Family comes first, and duty to family is greater than any other proclaimed loyalty. It’s one of the reasons that blood purists look at Dumbledore so dubiously.

“What do you think your grandfather wanted to talk to your brother and Lupin about?” Elias asks.

Regulus shrugs. “It’s none of my business, is it? I’ll know when Grandfather or Sirius wants me to know.”

He’s curious, but his grandfather had made a point of keeping it private, and Regulus is content to wait to find out what’s going on.

There’s actually a dueling room in Black Manor, although it can double as a ballroom when the Blacks are entertaining. As far as Regulus knows, the Blacks haven’t really done much entertaining since before his grandmother died, other than the annual Christmas Eve gathering his grandfather holds.

Arcturus enters the room with his cane, and Regulus notices that he’s leaning on it a little harder than he would have if it were just a decorative object. He feels a stab of worry at that, because he’s only just getting used to the idea of having his grandfather in his life.

The man following his grandfather is a stranger with a thin mustache and a thin build, wearing battle robes.

“This is Monsieur Betancourt,” Arcturus says. “His job is to teach you how to duel. He is not here to make friends or to coddle you. If you do not wish to take part in these lessons, that is up to you, but he is the master in this room.”

“We understand, Grandfather,” Sirius says, sounding uncharacteristically grim, but maybe it makes sense. Sirius and his friends are preparing for war, while Regulus and his friends plan on remaining neutral.

Betancourt smiles. “Your grandfather says you fancy yourself a warrior.”

“I don’t fancy myself anything,” Sirius replies. “I know what I will need to be, though.”

“Then come up here, Mister Black, and we’ll see what you’re made of,” Betancourt says.

The only time that Regulus has seen his brother in action is when he and his friends were taking out Rowle in the hallway.

Regulus leans forward, his heart in his throat, watching as Sirius stands in front of the instructor.

“We will obey the rules of the formal duel for the next week,” Betancourt says. “During the second week, I will teach you how to win a fight even if the other person plays dirty. Both skills are useful. Draw your wand, Master Black, and let’s see how you do in a formal duel.”

Sirius does as he’s bid, taking up a dueler’s stance. As becomes evident immediately, Sirius has a lot of raw, untrained talent, because he manages to hold his own against Betancourt for a whole three minutes before Betancourt disarms him.

“Good,” Betancourt says approvingly. “Very good, boy. Very good, indeed. You have the makings of a first-rate dueler. Next up, the other Black boy. Regulus, yes?”

Regulus doesn’t love the idea, but he knows that he’s likely to be a target in the hallways, and he should probably learn how to duel. Regulus takes up the stance, and prepares to fight. “Widen your stance, Master Regulus,” Betancourt instructs. “You’ll have a more solid foundation.”

He does as instructed, resets, and prepares to defend himself. Betancourt starts out a little more slowly with him, telegraphing his movements in order to give Regulus an opportunity to defend against the hexes he sends Regulus’ way. When it becomes obvious that Betancourt isn’t trying to embarrass Regulus, he relaxes a bit and starts to have fun with it.

Betancourt puts all of them through their paces before pairing them up to duel each other.

To his surprise, Regulus ends up having a good time, even when Betancourt changes up the pairings again, pitting him against Remus.

Remus is careful with him, using more mild jinxes and hexes, and not trying too hard to get past his defenses. Regulus sees the glint of metal at the hollow of his throat, something that wasn’t there first thing this morning.

It must be what their grandfather had wanted to speak to him and Sirius about, and Regulus wonders if it has anything to do with why Snape has been sneaking around, following his brother and his friends.

“You all show a lot of promise,” Betancourt says as they wrap up the lesson. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The lesson has also had the effect of breaking some of the ice between Regulus and his friends and Sirius’ group. Sirius clears his throat and asks, “Who wants to play Quidditch after lunch?”

Regulus glances around at his friends. Myra and Elias both play Quidditch, he knows, but not for the House team. Byron and Violet might play, but Remus’ grimace suggests that he’s definitely uninterested.

Byron shakes his head. “I’ll pass.”

“Same,” Violet agrees. “I want to check out your grandfather’s library, since he said we could have free rein.”

Remus’ expression lights up. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the library, too.”

“Great!” Sirius says. “That’s three-on-three. That works.”

Regulus hadn’t known what to expect from two weeks spent with his grandfather, his brother, and their friends, but he’s feeling more hopeful than he had a few days ago.

~~~~~

“So, does this mean we put all that work in for nothing?” Peter asks plaintively. “The map, the transfiguration, all of it?”

“Excuse you,” Sirius replies, sprawling back on the rug in his room, and it really is starting to feel like his, in a way his bedroom at his parents’ place doesn’t. He transforms into his dog form, and grins a doggy grin before changing back. “We’re secret animagi! We have a secret weapon! Not to mention how great that map is going to be for playing pranks.”

“Not to mention the leg up that map gave us in Charms, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy,” Remus points out. “I think the only class it didn’t help with was Potions.”

Peter is pouting. “But still. Your grandfather buys a charm from the goblins, and problem solved.”

Remus stares at Peter incredulously. “You’re angry that I don’t have to transform every month, and I’m not a danger to others?”

James reaches out and smacks the back of Peter’s head. “Come on, Wormtail. Don’t be such a wanker.”

Peter pouts at that. “I’m sorry. It’s just that we worked really hard on this stuff.”

“Yeah, we did,” Sirius replies. “And it will pay off in spades in time.”

Peter gives Remus an apologetic look and says, “Sorry, Moony. That was shitty of of me.”

“It’s okay,” Remus says quickly.

James is wearing a thoughtful expression. “Can I ask a question that might be a little insensitive?”

“Why did my grandfather make this big gesture without asking repayment in kind?” Sirius asks, already knowing what James wants to know. James is the sort who wants to protect his friends, and that includes protecting them from their family if necessary. “It’s not hard to figure out, Prongs. My grandfather wants to protect me, and to do that, he’ll protect my friends.”

James nods. “Fair. I just wish we could have done that for you, Moony.”

“You’ve all done a lot for me,” Remus replies. “But I’ll always be grateful to Lord Black for this.” He touches the medallion at his throat. “If it means not transforming every full moon…”

Sirius sees the relief on Remus’ face, and he knows that none of them will be able to fully understand what Remus goes through every month. He wonders if his grandfather understands the gift that he’s given Remus.

He wonders if his grandfather understands the kind of loyalty he’s engendered, and thinks he probably does.

“Your grandfather is a lot nicer than I thought he’d be,” James admits. “I knew he’d be formal, but he actually seems to have put some thought into what we’re going to do for two weeks, and what we might actually need.”

Sirius nods, still feeling wonder at what he’s found.

“Your brother is actually pretty decent when he’s not hanging around with Death Eaters,” Remus says, stretching out on the floor with his hands behind his head. “And his friends seem nice.”

“Did you have a good time in the library with the other berks?” James teases.

Remus casually flips him off. “Fighting You-Know-Who is going to take more than dueling lessons and Quidditch, you know.”

“We’ll join you in the library tomorrow,” Sirius promises. “Because you’re not wrong.”

Remus smiles at him. “Thanks, Pads.”

The next two weeks spool out like a dream, in a lot of ways. They have dueling lessons every morning, which Sirius loves. He can see his brother gaining in confidence, too, and Monsieur Betancourt keeps switching up the pairings so they all get a feeling for the others’ strengths and weaknesses.

Elias is an aggressive dueler who doesn’t give an inch. Violet is sneaky, feinting so convincingly that she can sneak a spell under a shield. Myra is cautious, but packs a punch behind her spells. Byron is a little harder to figure out, playing it safe and close to the vest, but then he’ll throw out a jinx or a hex no one else has ever heard of before.

During the afternoons, they play Quidditch, or study in the library, but then after the first week, they start playing Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Sirius isn’t even sure who first started suggesting games, but someone says, “What about a game of Exploding Snap?”

So, they have a formal dinner with Arcturus, and then they all change into something more comfortable and sprawl out in their chosen study and read or play games.

And, almost in spite of everything, they start to become friendly, if not friends.

The last night they’re at the Manor, the dinner is something really special. There’s a gorgeous ham and all the fixings, and everyone gets a small glass of wine.

Sirius is surprised when his grandfather stands and raises a glass, prompting all of them to follow suit.

“I appreciate all of you taking two weeks out of your holiday to spend your time with my grandsons and an old man,” Arcturus says. “I’ve appreciated having some life in the Manor again, and you all have been excellent guests and are a credit to your parents. You are all welcome to come back at any time.”

They all raise their glasses, and Remus is the one to say, “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Black. We cannot thank you enough.”

Byron is actually the one to echo, “Hear, hear. It’s been an amazing two weeks, my lord.”

Sirius thinks his grandfather might actually be choked up a bit at that. “Thank you, lads.”

That night, his grandfather actually joins them in the study, and he and Remus play Wizard Chess.

For the first time in years, Sirius isn’t looking forward to going to James’ house. He’s enjoyed the last two weeks far more than he expected. He watches as his grandfather trounces Remus, and sees the pleased smile on his grandfather’s face, and hears Remus say, “I want a rematch.”

“Come on, pay attention, Pads,” James scolds. “Are you playing or not?”

And Sirius turns his focus back on the game of Exploding Snap with a smile on his face.

~~~~~

Regulus knocks on the door to his grandfather’s study, the morning before they’re due to leave. He doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants, but he knows that he has to try at least.

“Come in, lad,” his grandfather says with a welcoming smile. “What can I do for you?”

His parents never looked at him like that. Regulus had known that they didn’t approve of his brother, and in comparison, they’d always treated him well. But that was only in comparison.

“I want to stay here this summer,” Regulus says bluntly. “I know that Sirius is going to James’ place, but—I don’t want to go home.”

“You’ll always be able to stay here, my boy,” his grandfather says warmly. “Is there a reason?”

Regulus swallows hard and shakes his head, because it’s mostly because he doesn’t have a friend’s place he’d rather go. “Not really. I just—really like it here.”

“You can stay here as long as you want, as often as you want,” Arcturus says. “And that goes for your brother as well. You boys are always welcome here. Your friends are always welcome, too.”

Regulus blinks rapidly. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Reg. I’m glad to have you here,” Arcturus says.

And that—Sirius is the heir, and Regulus knows that, but having his grandfather say that is exactly what he needed to hear.

“Have you had fun?” his grandfather asks.

Regulus nods. “Yes, it’s been brilliant.”

“Good,” Arcturus says. “That’s what I wanted.”

The morning that the others are due to leave, his brother comes to find him in his room, looking awkward and stiff. “Grandfather said that you’re staying.”

Regulus shrugs. “I decided that I’d rather be here than at home. It’s quieter, and he has a better library.”

Sirius barks a laugh. “All true things.” He sobers and peers into Regulus’ eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”

Regulus frowns. “I thought you were staying with Potter for the rest of the summer.”

“That was the plan,” Sirius replies. “But it doesn’t have to be. I—I had fun, didn’t you?”

Regulus shifts. “Yes, of course.”

Sirius says hurriedly, “I just, you know, if you wanted me to stay, I would.”

Regulus realizes abruptly that Sirius is offering to give up his usual summer with Potter to spend it with family, something he hasn’t willingly done since sorting into Gryffindor at age 11. “You’re not worried about leaving me here, are you?”

“Of course not,” Sirius says, quickly enough to assure Regulus that he means it. “You’re safe as houses here.”

“Then why?” Regulus asks, sounding rather exasperated, even to his own ears.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. Sorry, I—that was stupid. Never mind.”

Regulus’ second revelation follows closely on the second, that Sirius had wanted Regulus to want him to stay, and is disappointed by Regulus’ reaction. And Regulus is Slytherin, but he still blurts out, “Maybe you could come back before the end of the summer? Just for a week or so. I know you still want to spend time with Potter.”

Sirius smiles. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I was thinking, too. If you don’t mind me intruding on your time with Grandfather.”

“We’re all Blacks here,” Regulus replies, offering a concession. “You wouldn’t be an intrusion.”

Sirius ducks his head. “All right then. I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks, then.”

“Looking forward to it,” Regulus says, because he means it, and he has his brother back, and he has a quiet summer away from House politics or conniving, or anything else. Regulus can be Regulus in his grandfather’s house, without any pressure to be anything other than that.

Sirius strides forward like the Gryffindor he is, grabbing Regulus up in a hug that’s hard and sincere and warm, and Regulus hugs back, surprising himself. Regulus can’t remember feeling this way about his brother since he was a little kid, but Sirius had just offered to not spend the summer with his chosen brother, and offered to spend it with Regulus instead.

And then Sirius kisses him on top of his head, the way he had when they were both small, and their parents had been particularly cruel. It had always been an affectionate gesture in a house that held little of that.

Maybe that’s why Sirius had offered, though. Their grandfather is kind, but not warm, not affectionate, except in his own way. Sirius is warm, though, at least with the people he likes, and he’s apparently decided that he likes Regulus again.

The next few weeks are quiet and predictable, if a little lonely after having his friends around. Regulus fills his time with reading the various books and having dinner with his grandfather. About a week into his stay, his grandfather clears his throat after dinner and asks, “Do you want to learn about ritual magic?” he asks.

Regulus blinks. “I thought you’d offer that to Sirius.”

“I will, but he wasn’t the one to ask to stay this summer,” his grandfather replies, with a twinkle in his eye. “Plus, I doubt that Sirius is nearly as interested in it as you are.”

“Probably not,” Regulus agrees, and thus begins his formal education in ritual magic. It’s nothing like what they’re taught in school. At Hogwarts, their education is limited to the use of the wand, rather than magic done in ritual. To a certain extent, Regulus understands, since ritual magic can be used to do truly terrible things, like the rending of a soul, or other rituals involving human sacrifice. But ritual magic can also be used to do wonderful things, like healing grievous injuries, and even the creation of life.

“But you have to understand, my boy, the intent with which you enter the ritual circle is all-important,” his grandfather explains during one of their lessons. “Intent matters with a wand as well, in that you need to know your intent, but it’s even more paramount inside the ritual. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Regulus says. “I mean, I understand that intent is important.”

“Just keep that in mind,” his grandfather instructs.

Regulus finds ritual magic fascinating. There’s an elegance to it that’s missing from their usual lessons at Hogwarts. There’s a pageantry in the robes, the candles, the words, the athames, the other accouterments.

“When you’re older, you can join a conclave,” his grandfather says after one of their lessons. “I’ve had invitations from several over the years, but did not have any real desire to join. But you’ll be your brother’s heir until he has issue of his own and one of you should have a good grasp of ritual magic to maintain our relationships with other pureblood houses.”

Regulus doesn’t think that’s going to be a problem. “I can do that.”

“You’ll be an asset to your brother, and to the House of Black,” his grandfather replies. “Remember, Regulus—even if no one else ever says as much, or admits as much to you, the spare is just as important as the heir. Entire kingdoms have been won or lost based on whether those waiting in the wings were ready for command.”

“Do you really believe that?” Regulus asks, somewhat incredulously.

His grandfather sighs heavily. “My boy, I harbor no illusions about what role your brother is likely to take in the war to come, and it’s going to put him directly into the path of danger. He’s a bloody Gryffindor, which means he’s liable to run straight for it, rather than avoiding it like anyone with sense would.”

Regulus barks a laugh, surprised at his grandfather’s candor. “Probably.”

“You are my ace in the hole,” his grandfather says. “Your job is to stay alive.”

“I understand,” Regulus replies.

“Good, I’m glad that you do,” his grandfather replies. “And when your brother returns, I expect you to keep these lessons to yourself, unless or until your brother expresses interest in ritual magic. I believe that he will eventually, but it will have to come from him.”

Regulus agrees with his grandfather’s reasoning, and so quickly agrees. “Of course.”

“Good lad,” his grandfather replies. “I know I can count on you.”

And he feels a warm glow at that, believing that his grandfather doesn’t view him as just the Spare; he has a vital role to play.

~~~~~

“What are you moping about?” James asks about three weeks into Sirius’ stay with the Potters.

“I’m not moping,” Sirius protests. “There’s nothing to mope about.”

“You’ve been quiet,” James points out. “Even my parents have noticed. You’re not your usual boisterous self.”

Sirius shrugs. “I might be a little worried about Regulus.”

“He’s with your grandfather, who likes him, and cares about both of you,” James says. “We had a great two weeks with him, didn’t we? Your brother and his friends were nice. Maybe we’ll even keep hanging out when we go back to school. Moony said the goblin charm worked for him, too. He didn’t even transform the last full moon.”

Sirius frowns. “Yeah, and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, Prongs, and you know it probably will.”

“I don’t know that, because maybe you actually have a grandfather who gives two fucks about you and your brother, enough to host you both and your friends for two weeks, who gave your werewolf friend a charm to protect you and him.”

Sirius sighs, knowing that James is right. “I know. I’m not actually that worried about him. I just wonder if our grandfather will decide that Regulus is the better heir while I’m not there.”

“Didn’t you say he’d already made his choice?” James asks, logically. “And technically, if you’re the heir, he’s the spare. He has to be able to take your place if necessary, right? Maybe him spending time with your grandfather will help with that.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I know. I just—I don’t know. Something about this whole thing has thrown me.”

“You were going to run away from home, and now it turns out that you don’t have to,” James points out. “Harder to run away from home when it’s somewhere you actually want to be.”

They’re in James’ room, lying on his bed, James’ head on a pillow, Sirius with his stocking feet on the pillow next to James’ head. “True,” Sirius finally admits, and maybe that’s what’s throwing him—that he actually has a home he wants to return to.

“I’m not angry, you know,” James adds. “I’m happy for you. Your grandfather seems like a decent sort, and I’m not going to forget what he did for Moony.”

Sirius relaxes slightly, glad for James’ understanding. “Thanks.”

James nudges him with his foot. “Don’t thank me for being your friend, Padfoot.”

Sirius thinks that a big part of his disquiet is the fact that he’s torn about where he wants to be for the first time. There’s just something about his grandfather, and how his grandfather treats him, that has drawn Sirius in.

“And trust me, you’re not being an idiot for thinking you can rely on your grandfather,” James adds. “I asked my dad what charms from the goblins normally cost, and he wouldn’t say, but he said he’d hesitate to spend that much unless it was to save my life or Mum’s.”

Sirius blinks. He knew that the charm was probably expensive, but the Potters had plenty of money. Maybe not the old money that the Blacks did, but James wouldn’t need to work after school if he chose. “That much?”

“If your grandfather wanted to buy Moony’s loyalty, he put down a huge down payment,” James remarks wryly.

“I don’t think that was the point, really,” Sirius objects.

James snorts. “Moony knows that, and so do I. But that speaks to how much he cares about you.”

“Or about how badly he wants the Black line to continue,” Sirius mutters.

James pokes him with a toe again. “There’s more to it than that, and you know it.”

Sirius pokes him back. “Stop it.”

“You stop it.”

After that, the conversation devolves into a wrestling match that leaves them both giggling and breathless, at least until Sirius transforms and licks a stripe up James’ face.

“Ew! Padfoot!” James protests. “Gross.”

Sirius sits down, pleased with himself, and then transforms back, sprawling on the floor. “Liked that, did you?”

James rolls his eyes. “It’s no wonder your form is a dog. Have you told your brother or grandfather yet?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Not yet. I probably should, though, huh?”

“Well, your grandfather at least,” James says. “Maybe wait until you’re sure your brother isn’t going to change his mind and join the Death Eaters. Us being animagi could be really helpful, you know.” He pauses. “At least for you and Wormtail. My form is only useful if we’re in the woods, and there isn’t anyone trying to hunt me.”

Sirius chuckles. “There is that. Maybe Lily will think it’s majestic.”

James’ expression turns glum in a heartbeat. “She’s never going to give me the time of day.”

Sirius lays back on the floor and puts his hands behind his head. “She seems to like smart people. I mean, she’s friends with Snape, or she was. Maybe buckle down and show her you can be serious.”

James smirks at him. “I thought you were Sirius.”

“Every day,” Sirius says cheerfully. “But you should ask Moony for advice. I think Lily might kind of like him, at least more than she likes you at the moment.”

James’ expression is morose. “Do you ever think she’ll ever go on a date with me?”

“If you play your cards right, and you’re very lucky, Prongs,” Sirius replies. “So, buck up. You’re rich, handsome, and you have a first-rate mind when you apply it.”

James rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. What does that make you?”

“The Heir to an Ancient and Noble House,” Sirius says grandly, waving a hand to show just how much he doesn’t care.

And he doesn’t care, not about the status, anyway. If his grandfather had been a pauper and had shown him that much care, Sirius would have felt much the same way.

“Like that matters to you,” James says.

Mrs. Potter calls, “Come eat, boys. Dinner is ready.”

The Potters don’t have house elves or servants. They live simply, and Mrs. Potter seems to enjoy taking care of the house and cooking meals. Sirius suspects that one of the reasons that the Potters’ fortune has only grown is because they’ve been careful with their money. They live in a five-bedroom house in a nice area of Surrey, with a few wizard neighbors, but mostly around Muggles.

Dinner is a simple affair, as usual. No one dresses up, and they sit down to a nice roast chicken with veg and mash, and it’s all delicious but not elaborate. It’s nothing like dinners at his grandfather’s house; it’s warmer and more homey.

And still, Sirius can’t quite decide which he likes best.

“How are you, Sirius?” Mrs. Potter asks. “You haven’t seemed like yourself. James said that your grandfather was nice, but—“

“He’s been very kind,” Sirius quickly says. “He isn’t anything like my parents, and my brother decided to stay with him this summer. It’s throwing me for a bit of a loop.”

Mrs. Potter’s shoulders relax. “That’s wonderful, dear. You know we love having you here, and we view you as another son, but it’s always good to have family to count on.”

“I feel like I can count on my grandfather,” Sirius admits.

“But you’re expecting him to disappoint you,” Mr. Potter says knowingly. “That’s an easy position to take, Sirius. Give yourself room enough to be pleasantly surprised, though.”

Sirius smiles crookedly. “I already have. I thought I’d spend the last week or so before the school year begins with him.”

Both of the Potters smile at him warmly. “Good for you,” Mr. Potter says. “I’m glad you’re giving your grandfather a chance.”

Mrs. Potter beams. “James said your grandfather was lovely, if a bit formal. I have to admit that I met him once, and he was very much a gentleman.”

Sirius blinks. “You did?”

She laughs. “Oh, yes. It was our engagement party, and Lord Black wouldn’t have had to attend, but he did so anyway. He was very kind, and only had eyes for your grandmother.”

Sirius smiles. “I don’t have many memories of my grandmother, but I remember her fondly.”

“She was so lovely,” Mrs. Potter says fondly. “Just gorgeous, and so elegant and kind. Everyone loved her.” She focuses back on Sirius. “You take after her, Sirius.”

Sirius doesn’t know about that, but he suddenly wants to live up to her memory—elegant and kind. “Thank you.”

“You could do worse,” Mr. Potter says enthusiastically. “Oh, your grandmother was absolutely lovely.”

Sirius wants to know more, and he resolves to investigate as soon as he’s back at his grandfather’s house.

~~~~~

Arcturus has no intention of making the mistake of not educating the spare. He plans on doing everything in his power to ensure that both of his grandsons survive, and he wants them to have complementary skills, but he’s not going to leave Regulus unprepared.

And then he gets a letter from Sirius, asking if he could return for a week or so before he has to go back to Hogwarts.

Arcturus smiles, and quickly dashes off a reply to invite Sirius to stay for as long as he wants. He knows how much Sirius cherishes his time with the Potters, and the fact that he’s asked to return before the summer is over is evidence that Arcturus is making strides.

He lines up the same dueling instructor from the beginning of the summer, knowing that Sirius could use the individual training.

“Your brother is coming to stay at the end of the summer,” Arcturus says over dinner with Regulus. “Do you know anything about that?”

Regulus shrugs. “I don’t. Except that he offered to stay when he knew I’d be here all summer.”

“That’s good,” Arcturus says. “He cares about you, and what happens to you.”

Regulus flushes slightly. “Yes, it seems so.”

“Is that a new thing?” Arcturus asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, it’s an old thing. He always looked after me when we were kids.”

“Then he’s the man I know him to be,” Arcturus replies. “I’ve hired the dueling instructor to return.”

He can see Regulus take a deep breath. “That’s good. We’re both going to need the lessons.”

“You aren’t planning to take part in the war, are you?” Arcturus asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, but I’ll need to watch my back in the halls, and maybe watch Sirius’ back when his friends can’t.”

“Far be it from me to discourage you from learning how to defend yourself,” Arcturus replies, pleased. “You should learn as much as you can about dueling. You might never need it, but better to have the knowledge than not to know something when you need it.”

“True,” Regulus agrees. “I might not be able to be open about it, but I’d like to be a help to him.”

“And you’ll get your chance, I’m sure,” Arcturus replies. “Keep that in mind, my boy, for when your brother irritates you beyond all mentioning.”

Regulus actually laughs at that, which is impressive, because he’s so serious all the time. “I will.”

Sirius arrives a week later, breaking out in a wide grin when he sees them. “How’s your summer been, Reg?”

Regulus answers his smile with one of his own. “Great. How are the Potters?”

“In good health,” Sirius replies. “I would like to speak to you about our grandmother if you would allow me, Grandfather.”

Arcturus remembers that he’d been at the Potters’ engagement party, and they would have met both of them, and probably spoken to Sirius about his grandmother.

He doesn’t like talking about his wife, because the memories are still painful, but Sirius deserves to know about her, as does Regulus.

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “I have some photo albums we can look at after dinner.”

Sirius’ smile softens, becomes grateful. “Thank you. Mr. and Mrs. Potter spoke highly of her. They said—they said I took after her.”

Arcturus understands why. Sirius has a kind heart, hidden beneath a brash exterior, but he’s a good boy. “You do. Your brother takes after me, I’m afraid.”

“That isn’t a bad thing at all,” Sirius replies with a smile. “Our grandmother fell in love with you, didn’t she? That says something important.”

Arcturus smiles. “I have rehired the dueling instructor for you and your brother. You could do with more practice.”

Sirius nods. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Dinner that night is almost jovial. Arcturus finds himself relaxing as Regulus gives Sirius a hard time about his ignorance, and Sirius gives Regulus a hard time about how many lessons he’ll need to be a competent dueler.

After dinner, they repair to the study, and Arcturus asks Cordy to bring the photo albums that he’s hidden away.

And then, with his grandsons on either side of him, Arcturus begins to go through the albums. “This was your grandmother as a child,” he begins, pointing to a picture of a small girl on a miniature broom zipping around, laughing. “She was a terror on a broom. Much like Reg here.”

Regulus beams. “Really?”

“Hm? Oh, yes,” Arcturus replies. “I look forward to seeing your games this next year, although you’ll forgive me for not wearing school colors during the Slytherin-Gryffindor game.”

Sirius snorts. “We just expect you to buy the butter beers after—in celebration and in commiseration.”

“I think that’s understood,” Arcturus replies. “Now this, this is your grandmother at Hogwarts.”

Regulus leans closer. “Wait, she was a ‘puff?”

“Indeed, she was. Loyal as the day was long, your grandmother,” Arcturus replies. “Smart, driven, but not reckless. She would have done well in any house, but she told me that she begged the Sorting Hat for Hufflepuff. She thought she’d have the most fun there, and she was sorely in need of fun.”

“Gryffindor is fun,” Sirius mutters.

Regulus doesn’t reply, maybe because he’s also wishing that he’d begged for any house but Slytherin. “I didn’t know you could ask for another house,” he says.

“I begged for any house other than Slytherin,” Sirius admits. “I wanted to be with James. I met him on the train.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Arcturus assures him. “Your house does not set your futures, my lads. You can choose your own fates.”

He turns the page, to show their grandmother with her school friends, their arms around each other.

“She never had any trouble making friends with other houses,” he says. There’s someone from every house in the picture. “Remember to make allies, boys. It’s not just about survival.”

“I know,” Sirius says. “Reg?”

“We should have a study group,” Regulus says mildly. “My year will start to study for OWLs soon, and yours should start studying for NEWTs. We could do worse.”

Sirius nods slowly. “I think I can sell that somehow. James wants to get closer to Lily Evans.”

“She’s good at Potions and Charms,” Regulus says. “She’d help.”

“I’ll bet she would,” Sirius agrees.

Arcturus is proud of his grandsons.

Chapter 5

Sirius is better at dueling than he is, but he also has more experience. Regulus doesn’t mind, really. Sirius is gentle with him, correcting his stance and his pronunciation when necessary. He likes this side of his brother, one he hasn’t seen since Sirius started at Hogwarts.

Regulus is looking forward to seeing his friends again, of course, but he’s also dreading it. The relationship with his brother will have to be hidden again.

And he’ll have to deal with the Death Eaters in his House, some of whom had almost certainly been marked over the summer. They’ll likely be particularly vicious in the hallway, especially toward those they view as blood traitors.

He’ll have his friends, at least, and all of them are pureblood, so there’s at least a chance that the Death Eaters will leave him alone, or will think twice before messing with him.

If they do attack him, though, Regulus will at least have had dueling lessons.

At the end of the two weeks, they’re heading back to Hogwarts, and the night before their grandfather gives them both a wrapped gift at dinner. “For the coming school year,” Arcturus says. “This is an important year for you both, even though you don’t have either OWLs or NEWTs. It’s time to begin preparing, though, and to solidify your standing with your peers.”

Regulus understands what his grandfather is saying. For him, fourth year means preparing for OWLs and making the friendships that are going to stand him well during the rest of his time at school. Sirius is preparing for NEWTs, and the next chapter of his life.

Sirius opens his gift first, and it’s a book on advanced defense spells. Sirius grins. “Thank you, Grandfather. I’m sure this will be useful.”

“Good, I’m glad you like it,” Arcturus replies.

Regulus’ gift is a planner for school, where he can keep track of all his appointments, assignments, and exams. “This is wonderful, Grandfather.”

In spite of Arcturus’ wealth, their gifts are thoughtful but not terribly expensive, even though they’re well-made. Regulus likes that his grandfather doesn’t go for ostentatious gifts, and that they’re suited to the two of them. And their gifts have so far been of equal value, with their grandfather not showing preference between the two of them.

“I’m sure you’ll both do well this year,” Arcturus says. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

Regulus doesn’t think their parents had ever made a similar offer, and he knows that his grandfather is being sincere. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Sirius echoes.

The next day, Arcturus has a driver deliver them to the train station, and they stand outside for a moment. “Once more into the breach, brother,” Sirius says. “I don’t have to tell you to watch your back.”

“I have friends for that,” Regulus points out. “So do you.”

“Still, be careful,” Sirius says. “Some of the snakes will be newly marked and out to prove themselves.”

As if I don’t already know, Regulus thinks. Once upon a time, he might have been one of them, or looking forward to being one of them. Now, he has to walk a very fine line, but it’s worth it. “I’m aware.”

Sirius flashes an apologetic grin. “I know. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” And then, with a nod, he strides inside the station. Regulus gives him a few moments and then follows.

He passes through the portal for Platform 9 3/4, and sees Sirius greeting his friends enthusiastically. And then Regulus hears his name called, and sees Violet waving at him.

“How was the rest of your summer?” she asks as they get on board the train together.

“Good,” Regulus admits. “Quiet. I spent the rest of the summer with my grandfather, although Sirius joined us for the last two weeks. We had additional dueling lessons.”

“That should come in handy,” Violet comments. “We might have one more year before they really step up their recruitment efforts.”

Regulus knows exactly who “they” is in that sentence. “At least Rowle is gone.”

A number of the Death Eaters have graduated, although there are plenty who are ready, willing, and able to take their place.

Violet gives him a look. “There are those who are worse than Rowle, you know.”

Regulus makes a face, mostly because he knows she’s right. “We’ll just have to be careful, that’s all.”

“Are you going to pretend to still be feuding with your brother?” Violet asks.

Regulus shrugs. “It’s safer for both of us. And for my grandfather. I would hate to paint a target on either of them.”

“Newsflash, Black,” Violet replies. “Your brother is going to do that to himself.”

“I have to protect my grandfather,” Regulus counters. “You know that.”

“Well, don’t noise it about that he’s anti-You-Know-Who, and you might just manage to avoid it,” Violet comments.

They’re joined shortly by Elias, Byron and Myra once they find a compartment on the train. It’s a pleasant trip to the school. The others all have stories about their trips abroad over the summer, to the Maldives, France, and Mallorca.

“How is your grandfather?” Elias asks. “My parents couldn’t believe that the powerful Lord Black was that great of a host.”

Regulus hesitates. “I think he’s rearranged his priorities. And he seems to be doing well at the moment.”

“Your grandfather is a good one,” Myra says, a little wistfully. “None of my grandparents are still around.”

“He’s better company than my parents are,” Regulus agrees. He tries not to think about the fact that his parents hadn’t even raised a fuss about him staying with his grandfather for the entire summer, probably because they’re hoping that his grandfather will make Regulus his heir instead of Sirius.

But it also stings a bit, since Regulus has always known he’s the favored child, and now his parents seem to have discarded him in favor of using him to get to his grandfather.

“Are you going to spend the holidays with him again?” Elias asks.

Regulus shrugs, trying to remain nonchalant. “I don’t know. I suppose I will if my parents don’t object.”

“Why would they object?” Byron asks. “Currying favor with your grandfather can only help them.”

Regulus grimaces. “I know.”

And he hates that everything is about what you can get out of someone. He wants something more for his life.

~~~~~

Sirius spots Remus first, and he’s amazed at the changes in his friend. Remus looks good, tanned and filled out more, a healthy flush in his cheeks, and a broad smile on his face.

Sirius pulls him into a hard hug, pounding him on the back. “How are you? You look good!”

“I’m great,” Remus says immediately. “Thanks to your grandfather. This summer has been—I can’t put it into words.”

“You don’t need to,” Sirius replies. “I can see it for myself. I’m glad the charm worked.”

“We actually went to Wales to visit my mum’s family,” Remus admits. “For the first time in ages. My parents are thrilled.”

Sirius smiles. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Padfoot!”

James runs up to them, and it’s a repeat of his conversation with Remus. James is just as pleased as Sirius is with Remus’ improved condition. Peter is the last to arrive, and they find a compartment on the train.

They all sprawl out, talking about their summers. “Who’s keeping the map?” James asks in a low voice.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius says. “But maybe you should keep it, Prongs. You’ve got the cloak.”

“Yeah, and you have a little brother to look after,” James counters. “And probable Death Eaters roaming the halls. You keep the map.”

His grandfather’s words echo in Sirius’ ears, about the importance of this year. He doesn’t think that they’ll ever be too old for pranks, but he also understands that the time for childish things is coming to an end. The dueling lessons had been a strong reminder of that.

He suddenly feels the shortness of their remaining time at Hogwarts—just two more years.

They change into their school robes on the train, and climb into the carriages that will take them up to the school. As usual, the four of them fill one up, and Sirius catches sight of his brother getting into one with his friends.

Sirius is glad that his brother has a group of friends who will watch his back, especially since their fake-estrangement makes it difficult for him to do so.

Regulus catches his eye, giving him an almost infinitesimal nod, and then they’re on the way back to school.

The Great Hall is as splendid as always, with the ceiling reflecting the night sky outside, and floating candles illuminating the room. They take their seats at the Gryffindor table, currently empty except for plates and cutlery.

Headmaster Dumbledore calls the room to order for the Sorting, and Sirius’ attention is grabbed by the Hat’s song, full of dire pronouncements for the future and a coming war, along with a directive to find common ground.

It’s the most ominous song since Sirius started at Hogwarts, and it brings home just how serious the war is getting.

They cheer each Gryffindor who joins their table, around 30 in total, all of them looking small and scared, but also excited. The table fills with food after the last student is sorted, and they fill their plates.

Once they’ve finished eating, the Gryffindor prefects lead the first years up to the Gryffindor common room, leaving the rest of them to make their own way. Sirius is halfway to the door with his friends when Dumbledore calls, “Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew.”

“It’s too early to get in trouble,” James mutters.

“You’re not in trouble,” Dumbledore says, apparently hearing James. “But I did want to have a word with you all. As the Sorting Hat said this evening, the war is on our doorstep.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Peter asks nervously.

“Nothing, if that’s your choice,” Dumbledore replies. “But I’d like to speak with you about your other options.”

“We’d like to hear them,” Sirius says firmly. “It’s always good to have options, isn’t it, Peter?”

Peter doesn’t look entirely convinced by that, but he follows them up to the Headmaster’s office.

“Have a seat, boys,” Dumbledore says genially. “Mr. Lupin, you’re looking well.”

Remus has a strange expression on his face when he replies, “Yes, it was a good summer.”

That’s all he says, with no mention of the goblin-made charm that Arcturus had given him, and the rest of them are too experienced as pranksters to give Remus away. Sirius isn’t sure why Remus doesn’t want to tell Dumbledore about the charm, but they’ll back him up.

Dumbledore looks slightly bemused, but he doesn’t press. “Have you all heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

Sirius has heard the rumors, and he nods, as does James. Remus holds his tongue, and Peter just shifts nervously.

“It’s a bit early to induct you into the Order, but I want you to think about it over the next year,” Dumbledore says. “The war is getting more serious, and we’re going to need people like you, who can devote your lives to the cause.”

There’s no question that Sirius is ready to do just that—Voldemort has to be stopped—but something about Dumbledore’s words gives him pause. He’s thinking about his grandfather, and what his reaction would be if Sirius were to get himself killed, and about James’ parents if something happened to him.

“Of course, we’re interested, Headmaster,” Sirius says smoothly. “And we appreciate the show of faith, especially this early.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows go up a bit, probably recognizing Sirius’ tone as one he uses to get himself out of trouble.

James obviously does, too, but he smiles and says, “Like Sirius says, Headmaster, we appreciate your faith in us. We’ll do anything we can to stop You-Know-Who.”

“You can use his name, my boy,” Dumbledore says. “Inside Hogwarts’ walls, you’re safe.”

Sirius has heard that the rumor that people refuse to say Voldemort’s name because he’s put some sort of trace on it. Anyone saying his name, rather than calling him by his title or some euphemistic name, flags his attention as someone who’s defying him.

“How long will that last?” Peter mumbles. “That’s all my parents could talk about this summer.”

In contrast, if the Potters mentioned Voldemort, it was behind closed doors and outside of their hearing, and his grandfather hadn’t said anything either, other than giving them dueling lessons.

“Don’t worry yourself, Mr. Pettigrew,” Dumbledore replies soothingly. “As long as I’m Headmaster here, you’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but we won’t be students here forever,” Peter protests. “And I’m no soldier.”

“You don’t need to be,” Sirius says, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We have two years before we’re out of school and free to join the Order. Isn’t that right, Headmaster?”

“That’s correct,” Dumbledore agrees. “How is your grandfather doing?”

Sirius stiffens, but he pastes a smile on his face. “He’s doing well, thank you.”

“And has he pressured you to remain neutral?” Dumbledore asks, his tone mild.

“Not at all,” Sirius replies. “He actually gave us dueling lessons.”

Dumbledore smiles. “I’m glad he’s taking your security seriously. And your brother?”

“As far as I know, Regulus is doing well,” Sirius replies evenly.

James clears his throat. “If you’ll excuse us, Headmaster, it’s late, and we don’t want to miss curfew.”

“Of course, boys,” the Headmaster says. “Have a good evening.”

They get out of his office and start down the stairs, and Peter hisses, “What the hell was that all about?”

“That was about the Headmaster lining up his next group of soldiers for the coming war,” James replies. “And he expects us to be among them.”

“Let’s not talk about this here and now,” Sirius says. “We can discuss it tomorrow in the Room of Requirement, away from prying eyes and ears.”

“And why wouldn’t you tell the Headmaster about your charm?” Peter asks, sounding querulous.

Remus shakes his head. “Padfoot is right. We can talk about it later, in private.”

“Our room—“ Peter begins.

“Still not entirely private,” James asserts. “Later, Wormtail. We don’t discuss our pranks in public, you know that.”

“I didn’t know this was a prank,” Peter grumbles.

Sirius doesn’t reply, because he agrees with James and Remus—they need privacy. Peter tries to get answers out of them once more, when they’re back in their room, but they all hush him.

Sirius thinks about what had happened in Dumbledore’s office, when Dumbledore had gone from an adult they could trust, to being one they didn’t. And he knows the tide had turned when Remus kept the charm a secret.

From that moment, Dumbledore had gone from an adult they trusted to just an adult, just with one secret held.

Sirius doesn’t understand why, but he knows it’s true, right down to his bones.

They get their class schedules at breakfast the next morning, and they have most of them together.

“End of the day,” Sirius whispers. “Before dinner. The usual place.”

The others nod, although Peter looks terribly unhappy. Sirius is getting a little worried about him, but sets it aside. He’s sure that Peter is just having the same realizations as the rest of them—the end of the time at Hogwarts is looming, and they’ll have to make a decision about what to do after.

Classes that day are fairly boring, mostly going over their summer homework, and what to expect from the year to come. Sixth year is the last compulsory year. Plenty of students leave before taking their NEWTs, because they have a job lined up, or because they don’t want to do school anymore.

Sixth year is typically when people decide whether they want to do another year to do their NEWTs.

Sirius already knows that he’s going to take them, because he’s sure that his grandfather will want that, and Sirius wants to keep his options open. He won’t need to work after Hogwarts, but he knows that knowledge isn’t wasted, not when Voldemort is recruiting or bullying the best and brightest into joining him.

Once they’re done with their classes, they all make their way to the Room of Requirement, with Peter being the last to arrive, since he’s taking Muggle Studies, having heard that it’s a good way to get a Ministry job.

“Okay, what the bloody hell is going on?” Peter bursts out. “I thought we liked Dumbledore!”

“We do,” James says. “But Remus doesn’t trust him, and if he doesn’t trust him, neither do we.”

Remus sighs audibly. “It’s not that I don’t trust the Headmaster. My parents swore me to secrecy.”

The Room of Requirement has provided them with a fireplace and squishy chairs that they all sprawl onto. James points at Remus. “Explain, because I know your parents think that Dumbledore hung the moon.”

“We had a very long conversation about why people do nice things for you, and how they probably do it because they’re going to want something in exchange,” Remus admits. “And if not right away, then someday.”

“Because of my grandfather,” Sirius says bluntly.

Remus nods. “Because of him, yeah. But when I said I thought he mostly wanted to keep me safe, they disagreed, and I asked why they wouldn’t trust your grandfather when they trusted Dumbledore, and they admitted that Dumbledore might want me to do something for the war effort that I wouldn’t want to do.”

“So, what?” Sirius asks. “They’re okay with you owing the headmaster, but they don’t want you owing my grandfather?”

“Dumbledore is the leader of the Light,” Remus says, almost apologetically. “But—Sirius, I like your grandfather, and I just got to thinking. What is Dumbledore going to ask us to do, and what would he do if he knew that I didn’t owe him anymore?”

“And Dumbledore just asked us to put our lives on the line for the cause,” Sirius says.

James frowns. “But we’ve talked about this. We were going to join the war effort as soon as we were out of Hogwarts.”

Sirius hesitates. “Yeah, we were. Maybe we are. I’m not saying we don’t. It’s just—I never had someone to give a fuck whether I lived or died before now. Your parents would be devastated if anything happened to you, James.”

James frowns. “Our lives aren’t more important than anyone else’s, Pads. People are dying, more people every day.”

“And I’m not saying we’re more important,” Sirius argues. “I’m just—you know what? Forget it.”

“Did your grandfather try to get you to stay out of the war?” James asks.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “No, James. Like I told Dumbledore, he set up dueling lessons, both when you were there, and at the end of the summer. He hasn’t tried to sway me in any way, okay?”

“Prongs,” Remus says softly. “Lord Black was nothing but hospitable and kind while we were there, and it makes sense that Padfoot would be rethinking his priorities. Dumbledore wants us to be foot soldiers in this war. There’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to decide whether or not we really want that.”

“Okay, fair,” James says after a moment’s thought. “And we have two years to decide and to prepare.”

“I want to save lives,” Sirius says. “More than anything, I want to prevent Voldemort and his Death Eaters from killing more people. But we can’t do that if we’re dead.”

“So, we fight, but we fight smart,” James says. “And we don’t go rushing into danger. We take care of each other. We treat this like a prank, the best prank ever, where we can’t get caught.”

Sirius feels his expression harden. “And when we are ready, we kill every dark bastard we can. If we’re doing this, we go in prepared.”

“We should keep pretending like I need to go to the Shrieking Shack every month,” Remus adds. “Otherwise, Dumbledore will know about the charm.”

Peter is looking ever more alarmed. “Wait, what? Are we—are we seriously talking about going against both Dumbledore and You-Know-Who?”

“No, we’re not,” Sirius says soothingly. “We’re just talking about watching each others’ backs, Wormtail. This is bigger than our usual pranks, and you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to be. You can stay out of it.”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Peter demands.

Sirius holds up his hands. “Hardly. I’m saying it’s too early to make any decisions, let alone ones that are life-altering, okay? We don’t even know what we’re going to be doing after Hogwarts.”

“You mean that I don’t,” Peter grumbles. “You and James are set for life.”

Peter isn’t wrong, but that doesn’t change things. He and James could live off their family fortunes forever, but that doesn’t mean they will.

“I’m not interested in living off the family fortune forever,” James says. “Don’t be a wanker, Peter.”

Peter subsides at that, but Sirius files that away. Maybe his grandfather has had more influence than he thought, but Sirius is beginning to see the signs of cowardice in Peter—cowardice and jealousy.

And Sirius knows that’s a terrible combination.

~~~~~

Regulus immediately notices the change in the Slytherin common room when he enters. It’s obvious who’s taken the mark and who hasn’t. Mostly because those who have the Dark Mark have the sleeves of their robes rolled up, to make a display.

“They’re just trying to intimidate us,” Violet whispers in his ear. “It’s a show of force, to convince us that we have no choice but to join them. They’re bullies.”

“I know,” Regulus says, feeling as though he’s walking into enemy territory, and wishing for the safety of Black Manor.

“We could pretend to date,” Violet says, slipping her hand into his. “Pretend we’re interested in no one but each other.”

In response, Regulus bends down and kisses her, with all the desperation he feels. Since he’s been harboring a bit of a crush on her for the last few months, it’s also not a hardship.

“Convincing,” Violet says, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone, even as whistles erupt from the common room.

“We know what you were doing this summer, Reg!” one of the Slyhtherins says, but Regulus is looking at Violet, and he’s not looking at who’s talking.

Regulus channels his brother’s insouciant grin. “Someone has to carry on the Black line, and my brother hasn’t shown any sign of settling down. I’m hoping it will make my grandfather change his mind about the heir.”

Let them think he’s playing the long game. Let them think he’s playing his grandfather, and doing whatever he can to get ahold of the Black fortune. Let them think that he and Violet are together.

Let them think whatever they want as long as they can stay safe.

Violet puts a hand on his chest, over his heart, and pastes an infatuated smile on her face. “It just blossomed last year, and then when I spent time with him and his grandfather, I couldn’t help myself.”

It could be true, is the thing, and Regulus likes Violet. She’s smart and canny, and she would be an excellent partner in crime.

Regulus pulls her over to a corner of the room. “If my grandfather gets word of this, your father is going to have a marriage contract before he can ask questions.”

“Why would I have a problem with that?” Violet murmurs. “I wasn’t after that, but I could do much worse, you know?”

Regulus kisses her again, partly to keep their cover, and partly to seal the deal. “I could, too. You are an excellent partner in crime.”

“I think I’m a partner against crime, but I understand,” Violet replies. “We’ll keep each other safe, right?”

Regulus nods. “Always. Thank you for being smarter than me.”

Violet smirks at him. “Always.”

Regulus chuckles. “Even if my grandfather didn’t put a marriage proposal on you dad’s desk, I might. Slytherins don’t marry for love.”

Violet smiles at him. “No, we marry for ambition, and you are perfect for that.”

But there’s something in her eyes that makes Regulus think that it’s not just ambition.

Of course, even between Houses, gossip travels through Hogwarts like wildfire, and Regulus is not at all surprised when his brother gives him a look over dinner the next day, even across the room. Regulus tips his head in acknowledgment, keeping the gesture subtle, and then he proceeds with dinner.

He and Violet walk out with joined hands, and Regulus whispers in her ear, “My brother wants a conversation.”

“Do you think he’s heard already?” Violet asks.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Regulus admits. “You know what gossip is like around here, and we aren’t the only Slytherins who talk to other people in other Houses.”

Violet nods, and kisses him lightly on the lips. “I’ll meet you in the library when you’re done. We have to keep up appearances, after all.”

Regulus smiles. “See you soon.”

There’s an unused classroom near the Great Hall, where he and Sirius have met up before when they didn’t want to use the Room of Requirement, and just have a quick word. Sirius slips into the room behind him a few seconds later.

“Is this a stunt, or are you going to be writing to Grandfather to ask for a marriage contract?” Sirius asks, sounding more amused than anything else.

Regulus turns to face him. “It’s a little bit of a stunt, but only because we needed the other Slytherins to stay off our backs, and thought it would be easier if they thought we were completely infatuated with each other.”

Sirius frowns. “How bad are we talking, Reg?”

“Lots of newly marked Death Eaters with the sleeves of their robes pulled up,” Regulus replies. “He marked people in my year, Siri.”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “And Dumbledore wants to recruit us for his secret army.”

Regulus frowns. “You’re not even out of school yet!”

“Which is what we told him,” Sirius replies. “Remus was wary, and so were the rest of us as a result. Turns out that Remus’ parents swore him to secrecy about the charm, and made him promise not to tell Dumbledore.”

“Who knew that a lifetime of lying to adults would stand you in such good stead?” Regulus jokes.

Sirius snorts. “Fair. So, you and Violet?”

“I like her,” Regulus offers. “She’d be an excellent partner.”

“She does seem to be,” Sirius agrees. “I’m glad you have someone to watch your back.”

“I do,” Regulus insists. “We’re going to get through this. And if Grandfather has to send her father a marriage contract—I could do worse.”

“Better you than me,” Sirius jokes. “You can be the one to provide heirs for the House of Black.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “Something you want to tell me, brother?”

“I have no interest in settling down just yet, or maybe ever, that’s all,” Sirius replies. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Regulus gives him a searching look, and he wonders if some of Sirius’ reticence in thinking about his future has to do with the war. Regulus’ job is to stay alive and keep his head down; Sirius is likely to fling himself into danger at the first opportunity.

“I’ll read exactly as much into it as I need to,” Regulus replies. “Don’t go getting yourself killed like a bloody Gryffindor.”

“I am a bloody Gryffindor,” Sirius counters. “Be careful, and watch Violet’s back, Reg. If they can’t get to you, they might well try to go through her to get to you.”

Regulus hadn’t thought about that possibility, and he feels a sudden spike of concern. “I hadn’t—“

“You’d both be in danger regardless,” Sirius adds quickly. “It wouldn’t matter if you were together or not. But at least try to be together, or make sure that Violet is with others or around others, who can watch her back, okay? We expect them to come after us. But they may very well decide to go after you for refusing to join them.”

Regulus swallows. “I know.”

“I’m going to write to Grandfather, and ask him to talk to the goblins, see if they can provide a charm that will help repel the Imperius, and any other mind-altering spell or potion,” Sirius says. “If Grandfather gives it to you, no one is going to ask any questions. It will just be a gift. You can even tell everyone that you’re the favorite.”

Regulus laughs. “Better to keep them guessing.”

Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Be careful.”

“You, too,” he says.

“I’ll let you go first,” Sirius says, taking out a piece of paper and unfolding it. He taps it with his wand and says, “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”

Regulus stares at it. “Is that—“

“A map of Hogwarts that shows the location of everyone in the castle?” Sirius asks archly. “It is, and it’s a secret.”

“My lips are sealed,” Regulus promises.

“The coast is clear,” Sirius says. “Go on.”

Regulus claps him on the shoulder as he leaves the room, slipping out and heading for the library. Violet is sitting with Byron and Myra, and Regulus breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her unharmed.

He slides into the seat next to her, and she asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Sirius is going to write to Grandfather to ask for something to protect me from the Imperius,” Regulus says. “Violet, I suggest you write to your father and do the same, or I can write to my grandfather on your behalf.”

“I’ll write to my father,” she replies. “He’s always encouraged me to know my own mind. Pretty sure he would hate for someone to use the Imperius on me, and your brother is right to be concerned.”

“How much do we need to worry?” Byron asks.

“It’s worse in Slytherin,” Regulus admits. “There were people in our year newly marked.”

Elias sprawls in the seat next to Byron. “It’s not a joke. I just about took two hexes in the back from our own Housemates. They’re out for blood.”

“No one goes anywhere alone,” Regulus says. “You know the professors won’t be able to do much, not against the Death Eaters. They haven’t been able to do anything until now.”

“Dumbledore has kept us safe so far,” Myra points out.

“And there are still Death Eaters in the school who will curse us in the back,” Elias points out. “Dumbledore’s protection isn’t going to mean much if we’re dead, or forced to get the Mark under an Imperius.”

Regulus knows Elias has a point. For all Dumbledore’s posturing about Hogwarts being safe while he’s in charge, it won’t matter much if one of the other students casts an Unforgivable in the hallway. Sure, they might wind up in Azkaban, but that won’t save their target.

He wonders if there’s any way he could get a copy of Sirius’ map so he could tell when people are close, but he doubts he could use it clandestinely. And he knows better than to mention it to anyone else.

The map will help keep Sirius and his friends safe, and Regulus will have to watch his friends’ back, while they watch his. It’s the only way they’re going to make it through the next four years of school.

The next few days are tense. The Death Eaters—that they know about, anyway—settle down a bit over the next couple of days. There’s still the sense around the school that Dumbledore is in control, even if it’s been shaken.

Regulus sticks close to Violet and Elias, even in the common room, and if they’re not there, or in class, or the Great Hall, they stick to the library. It just seems safer.

Then, about a week after classes begin, his grandfather’s owl swoops in over the breakfast table, dropping a wrapped package into Regulus’ hands.

Regulus tears off the wrapping and finds a note written in his grandfather’s unsteady hand. He knows that the illness is beginning to take its toll. Still, the writing is legible.

Dear Regulus,

Your brother tells me that you might have need of the enclosed. It should do the job. I must congratulate you on making the first overture toward a very advantageous match. I’ve done a bit of research, and have reached out to her father. His response was quite warm. Please let me know if there’s anything else you might need.

Your Grandfather

Regulus lets out a little snort of laughter. His grandfather is always so formal, but there’s care if you read between the lines, enough so that his grandfather has already reached out to Violet’s father.

He opens the box to find a pair of matching rings, gold, with engraving on the bands. They’re relatively simple, the sort of first courting gesture offered by a pureblood family to someone they consider a good match.

Even better, they can also be charmed to protect the wearer against spells that alter the mind—mostly to guard against love spells, but if the charms are strong enough, they will protect against the Imperius, too.

And Regulus has no doubt that his grandfather would make sure the charms are strong enough.

Violet looks over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s really pretty.”

Regulus pulls the smaller ring out of the box and offers it with a flourish. “I believe this one is meant for you.”

“Your grandfather doesn’t do things by halves, does he?” Violet asks admiringly.

Regulus laughs. “I believe that our grandfather would do everything to protect us, and that extends to the people who also care for us.”

Violet puts the ring on, and it fits like a charm. “It’s beautiful. I’ll be sure to write him a thank you note.”

“You can include it with mine,” Regulus replies. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Elias says, “Let me see.”

Violet holds out her hand, and soon everyone around the table is admiring the ring, and the fact that it came from Lord Black. Every single pureblood recognizes the gesture for what it is, an honorable first gesture that announces their relationship, and that it’s serious, but not serious enough for a marriage contract. As long as he and Violet are wearing the rings, no one will make any overtures toward either of them.

And everyone will know that Violet is under his grandfather’s protection; they won’t know about his grandfather’s illness.

Violet grabs his hand under the table and squeezes, and Regulus smiles. His grandfather’s gift couldn’t come at a better time.

~~~~~

Arcturus doesn’t enjoy leaving the Manor these days, but he thinks it’s for the best under the circumstances. He uses his most ornate cane, the one that looks more like an affectation than a support. He doesn’t require it—not yet, anyway—but he’s a little unsteady, and he’d prefer to have it and not need it than to fall on his face.

He’s still more than capable of apparition, although he does ask Cody to come with him while disillusioned to make sure he remains on his feet. He needs to keep up appearances for as long as possible.

Mr. Miller is waiting for him at the cafe they’d chosen for their meeting, in a small wizard enclave just outside of London.

The cafe owner sees him and moves quickly. “Lord Black, what a pleasure! So nice of you to visit our establishment. Mr. Miller said you would be joining us.”

Behind the proprietor’s back, Arcturus can see a man who looks a lot like Violet make an apologetic face. “Thank you for your welcome,” Arcturus says warmly. “We would appreciate privacy for this conversation.”

“I’ll bring a pot of tea and some nibbles to your table,” he replies. “And you can set up whatever privacy charms you like.”

“Thank you,” Arcturus replies. He takes a seat across from Mr. Miller, Violet’s father. His dark hair is mostly silver, as is his goatee. His hair is short and his beard neat. He’s wearing a suit under his robes, dark and conservatively cut, with a dark tie.

Miller offers a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Black. You’re looking well.”

Arcturus knows that’s just a carefully constructed facade, but he has no interest in taking Miller into his confidence until their families are far more closely united. “Thank you. I have to say, your daughter favors you.”

“She’s a chip off the old block,” Miller admits with a smile. His handshake is firm but not overbearing, and relatively brief. “Although she has her mother’s spirit. She told me what you sent to your grandson.”

Arcturus smiles. “I thought it would be proper. Regulus seems quite fond of her.”

“To be honest, when I heard that Violet had been invited to Black Manor, I had hoped that it was at the behest of your older grandson,” Miller says frankly. “I’m sure you probably did your research, but Violet’s bloodline isn’t as pure as some would like.”

“Your wife’s grandmother was Muggle-born,” Arcturus says. “And she was incredibly smart and talented, leaving a strong legacy.”

Milles smiles. “My wife takes after her. She sorted into Gryffindor. I’d heard that Regulus was interested in following Voldemort. Please understand—I’m not opposed to the match, but I’d like to understand.”

Arcturus steeples his hands in front of his face. “Yes, well. I made Regulus swear an Unbreakable Vow not to take the Mark. My grandson is a smart lad and realized that it would be better to make the vow than lose his place in the family.”

“Well, that does make me feel better,” Miller admits. “I had wondered. I know there are some marriages that might make that sort of mixed loyalties work, but I think it would be difficult.”

“The House of Black has always prized purebloods, that’s no secret,” Arcturus says. “But the Dark Mark leaves a stain on your magic that cannot be washed away, not even by time. I didn’t want that for my grandson.”

“Fair enough,” Miller agrees. “Violet knows that she has a Muggle-born grandmother, and it’s so hard to know what they think is pure. It seems to change on a daily basis, almost.”

“Madmen do not adhere to logical rules,” Arcturus says. “But the rings I sent my grandson will protect both of them against any sort of love potion, as well as any other mind-altering spell, including the Imperius, at least as long as they’re wearing them.”

Miller’s smile is relieved. “It’s a gift beyond measure.”

Arcturus leads back in his chair. “Do you really think so, Mr. Miller? Whether or not the children ever express interest in a marriage contract, Violet is clearly important to Regulus. She’s a friend. If something were to happen to her, he would be devastated, and would likely do something ill-advised. In keeping her safe, I keep him safe.”

Miller chuckles, a dry, dusty sound, as though it doesn’t get much use. “I was in Slytherin, too, you know. But I’m married to a Gryffindor.”

“Then you might understand my pain in trying to parent two boys from those houses as best as I can,” Arcturus replies. “I cannot do as much as I would like, but I will do what I can.”

Miller nods. “Knowing that we’re not there quite yet, I suppose we should talk about dowry.”

Arcturus actually rolls his eyes at that. “Please. The House of Black is not about to accept a dowry if the match is made out of love—or at least mutual affection. We have enough money to support any number of family members. Although I would hope that both of my heirs decide to have enough children to field a Quidditch team. Our numbers are dwindling.”

“All the more reason to bring in fresh blood, right?” Miller asks. “Thank you for your understanding.”

“My grandsons are both good boys, with good heads on their shoulders, when they choose to use them,” Arcturus says. “Forming a partnership with your daughter is one of the smarter things that Regulus has done. I hope it blossoms beyond that.”

“As do I,” Miller replies. “I think our family could be an asset to the House of Black.”

“Based on what I’ve seen of your daughter, I would believe it,” Arcturus replies.

Miller hesitates, and then says, “There’s something my daughter mentioned to me over the summer. It hasn’t gone any further; we haven’t even said anything to my wife. But she came away with the feeling that you were—perhaps not doing very well.”

“I will admit that I waited too long to take more of an interest in my grandsons,” Arcturus finally says after a long pause. “I believed that they would be better off with my son and his wife, and I knew they were receiving an adequate education at Hogwarts. But I’m glad that I’ve stuck my nose in, as it were. They’re both good boys, but their parents have a rigid worldview. It may surprise some to know this, but I’m a tad more flexible.”

Arcturus is reminded of Andromeda, who has already been disinherited, and while he has a moment of regret about that—he admires her willfulness in a way—she had sunk an advantageous marriage to elope with some Muggle-born.

He might rethink it eventually, but he has enough going on at the moment that it’s on the back burner for now. He has to get the boys through Hogwarts and the war alive first.

Miller chuckles. “Your record in the Wizengamot is interesting, Lord Black. I did a bit of research, and you were consistently neutral. You supported pureblood laws and politics, but you consistently voted against laws that would restrict creature rights.”

“I also chose not to vote for laws that would deliberately restrict Muggles and half-bloods,” Arcturus points out. “Because I have nothing against them. I simply do not want them to dilute our culture and traditions.”

“And would you allow one of your grandsons to marry a Muggle or a Muggle-born?” Miller asks archly, and he obviously knows that Arcturus had disowned one of his grandchildren for doing just that.

Arcturus hitches a shoulder. “I would take it on a case-by-case basis. If you’re referring to my granddaughter, she married her husband against her family’s wishes. A Muggle-born would find it difficult to integrate into the Black family, though, so I would likely oppose the match.”

“And a Muggle?” Miller asks.

“Even more difficult,” Arcturus replies. “I want the best for my grandchildren, and I have been around long enough to know what’s best.”

Arcturus is aware that his grandchildren would probably take exception to that, but he’s confident of his own experience and decision-making.

“We all want what’s best for our children, and their children,” Miller replies. “And I appreciate what you’ve done for my daughter. I know she’s a target.”

“So are my grandsons,” Arcturus replies. “And I will do whatever I can to protect them, and that includes your daughter.”

Miller smiles. “Thank you. I have to admit that does make me feel better.”

Arcturus would go to great lengths to protect his legacy.

~~~~~

The map helps them get out of the castle without being spotted. Granted, they wouldn’t have to go there at all if they were willing to tell Dumbledore about the charm, but Moony promised his parents, and none of them mind leaving the castle for the night, since they have permission.

Snape seems to have different priorities these days, though, probably too busy being a Death Eater. Or maybe he’s just tired of the game, trying to catch them out.

Now that they have their animagus forms, either Sirius or Peter will press the knot to freeze the Whomping Willow. Then they take the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, and sprawl out on the sleeping bags they’ve managed to accumulate.

They have snacks, too, and there’s a chess set and Gobstones, and other things they can do while Moony is supposedly indisposed.

“Still haven’t changed your mind about telling Dumbledore about the charm?” James asks.

Remus opens a box with a chocolate frog and grabs it before it can hop away, biting into it with relish. “No, still haven’t,” Remus confirms. “Besides, I like coming here. It’s nice getting away from the castle for a bit, away from Death Eaters and talk about the war.”

He’s right about that, Sirius thinks. Here, they’re still kids at school, not future soldiers facing a war.

It’s stolen time. Sirius understands that.

“Are you going to join the Order?” Peter asks.

Remus is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. It would depend on what they asked me to do, I suppose.”

“Do you think Dumbledore would ask you to do something you wouldn’t want to do?” James asks incredulously.

Remus shrugs. “i don’t know. It’s a war, James. I think it’s a given that we’ll be asked to do things we don’t want to do.”

“What’s going to be your overture to Lily?” Sirius asks in a bid to change the subject. “Because you couldn’t go wrong with copying my grandfather.”

James shoots him a sour look. “Come on, Pads. Your brother already had a leg up on me. Violet had already agreed to date him, and you know it.”

“So? Maybe you should ask her again,” Sirius suggests. “We all know that Snivellus took the Dark Mark. She might be a little more receptive to your overtures. We’ve been very circumspect this year.”

“Why have we been avoiding pranks?” Peter asks.

“Because we’re in our last two years of school, and we’re facing a war,” Remus replies. “And James is intent on wooing Lily, and Sirius doesn’t want to disappoint his grandfather.”

Sirius has to admit that’s a big part of it for him. “If James plays his cards right, he’ll probably be Head Boy next year, and Lily’s sure to be Head Girl. That might do it.”

James rolls his eyes. “There’s no way I’m going to be the Head Boy. I’m not even a prefect.”

“Because you were too busy pulling pranks, and didn’t spend enough time sucking up to the professors,” Sirius points out. “This year could change that, and change Lily’s opinion of you. Face it, James, once we leave school, your chances for wooing her will dry up, unless you start stalking her. You have to seize the day.”

James groans. “Yes, fine! I get it. Strike while the iron is hot.”

Peter grimaces. “Laura Sallow still won’t give me the time of day.”

Sirius looks at him. “Have you tried giving her a gift? Maybe you could get her some sweets at Honeydukes after the next Hogsmeade weekend?”

“I tried that!” Peter says with a groan. “She says she doesn’t like sweets.”

“Books?” Remus suggests gamely. “Or maybe something similar?”

Peter shakes his head. “I think I’m doomed never to find love.”

“You should try a note,” Remus argues. “Tell her what you like about her. Focus on something other than the physical. That might help. What did you tell her before?”

Peter flushes. “I just said she was really pretty.”

Sirius groans. “Peter, please tell me that you weren’t staring at her tits when you said that.”

“I don’t think I was?” Peter says, his inflection indicating that he either isn’t sure, or that he definitely was.

“Then I think you might be done,” Sirius replies. “Because if you were staring at her tits when you said that, she’s never going to agree to a date.”

Peter groans theatrically. “How does anyone ever do this?”

“Good question, since none of us have ever managed it,” Remus mutters, but he’s smiling.

Sirius stands and stretches. “I think I might do a round, scare some folks off. Maybe I’ll howl at the moon for good measure.”

“Wouldn’t want Dumbledore or anyone else to get too suspicious,” Remus agrees. “Be careful.”

Sirius grins and transforms, then puts back his head and howls, making it sound as eerie as he can.

People will wonder, but that’s the point, isn’t it?

And if Sirius goes roaming and people see a Grimm, that will cement the legend well enough.

Also, there’s just a part of him that wants to howl at the moon tonight.

He howls, and he roams Hogsmeade, and he sees people’s curtains twitch as they try to get a glimpse of him, and then retreat when they do.

Sirius doesn’t think his form is really a Grimm, but it certainly bears resemblance to one. And the people who see him loping around Hogsmeade are going to question ever going to the Shrieking Shack, or even coming anywhere near him.

Just because he can, he sits and howls again, deep and throaty, the scariest sound he can muster.

A man emerges from one of the buildings and says, “What are you doing, haunting Hogsmeade? Trying to scare someone?”

Sirius sits and cocks his head, and just stares at the man.

“You’re one of Dumbledore’s, aren’t you?” the man says. “I know his fingerprints, and they’re all over you, boy.”

Sirius makes a chuffing sound, not wanting to admit to it.

“I take it your friend has found alternate methods for controlling his transformation, and you’re trying to make sure everyone still knows that place is the most haunted location in Britain. If so, you’re doing a good job. No one’s going to trespass on a place where they know a Grimm is.”

Sirius takes a chance and transforms back, because the man knows far too much. “Who are you?”

“Aberforth Dumbledore,” the man says. “And by the look of you, you’d have to be a Black.”

“Sirius Black,” he admits. “You know me?”

“I pay attention to some things, and your grandfather is a force to be reckoned with. I would guess he might have been one of the few who could oppose my brother successfully in his heyday.”

Sirius swallows. “Would he have needed to?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, boy, not without a purpose,” Aberforth replies.

Sirius takes a moment to think. “Do you trust the Headmaster?”

“I trust him to do what he thinks is best for the greater good, and you should too,” Aberforth replies. “Trust yourself when it comes to surviving, lad.”

Sirius nods. “Thanks. I think.”

“Your grandfather will want you to live,” Aberforth replies. “He might not always have your best interests at heart, but he will always care about your survival.”

Whereas Dumbledore won’t, is the message that’s clearly communicated. Sirius can’t help but think that the Dumbledore brothers have to be at odds, although he’s not sure why.

“What have you got against Dumbledore?” Sirius asks.

Aberforth gives him a look. “That’s private, family business. Just remember that Albus has his own agenda.”

Sirius nods, and then transforms back into his dog form, and then lopes back to the Shack.

James raises his head sleepily, but Peter and Remus seem to still be sleeping. “Did you get what you wanted?”

Sirius transforms back and sprawls on the sleeping bag spread out next to James. “I ran into Aberforth Dumbledore.”

James raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“And he warned me that Dumbledore has his own agenda, and not to trust him,” Sirius adds. “It was weird.”

“Maybe they just don’t get along,” James suggests.

“Maybe,” Sirius agrees. He doesn’t think that it’s just brotherly fighting, though. Aberforth doesn’t owe him anything, and wouldn’t have needed to warn him. It’s not as though the warning would harm the Headmaster in some way.

It’s just more food for thought, and another reminder that Sirius needs to be sure to think for himself, and not be led around by the nose.

Not by anyone.

~~~~~

Halfway through the term, it seems like his and Violet’s plan is working. Their relationship means that everyone expects them to spend all their time together, and Elias, Byron and Myra spend as much time with them as possible.

They’ve added a couple of others from Slytherin to their group, at least on occasion. Gareth Greengrass is a blood purist, but is apparently not interested in joining the Death Eaters’ ranks. Melody Fernsby is from a traditionally gray family without a lot of political connections, but who’s near the top of their class. Regulus assumes that she’ll end up staying neutral, if she doesn’t get hit with the Imperius.

And then, just past Halloween, Regulus finds himself alone with Violet in the hallway as they’re heading to Transfiguration. It’s one of the first times the two of them have actually been alone, rather than with at least one or two friends.

Regulus feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up as they approach an intersection. He reaches for his wand as he pushes Violet behind him, avoiding the curse coming from behind.

Violet ducks his hold to send a hex in that direction, responding just as quickly as Regulus had. Regulus recognizes four Death Eaters, including Snape. The curses are all non-lethal, and not set to maim, Regulus realizes when he throws up a shielding spell to give him a second to catch his breath. But all of the spells will cause a lot of pain or discomfort.

“I think they aim to teach us a lesson, darling,” Regulus drawls.

“Hmm…I think we already knew they were a bunch of cowardly toe-rags,” Violet replies with a grin.

Regulus chuckles. “Indeed, we did.”

He’s had weeks of dueling lessons, and as the person defending himself and another, he doesn’t have to worry about getting expelled. He sends a particularly vicious cutting hex at Snape, and follows it up with a reducto for Nott. The reducto hits a wall, causing damage to the masonry, and enough noise that Regulus expects a professor to appear at any moment.

But there are no professors, and every skill Regulus has at dueling is being put to the test.

Suddenly, two of the Death Eaters get hit with silent curses that knock them on their arses, and one of Violet’s cutting curses hits Snape on the wand arm, causing him to drop it. The fourth and final Death Eater goes down with another cutting hex from Regulus, and the four of them get up and run away, probably not wanting to get in trouble.

Regulus is breathing hard as he looks at Violet. “Are you all right?”

“Right as rain,” she says. “You were magnificent.”

“He really was,” Sirius says, dispelling the disillusionment charm he’d apparently been under. “Well done, little brother.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows. “And how is it that you’ve come riding to my rescue once again?”

Sirius shrugs. “We were on our way to Potions when we saw Snape going the opposite direction and acting stealthy. Sorry if we stepped on your toes.”

Violet shakes her head. “You didn’t. They were aiming to hurt us, while avoiding anything that might get themselves expelled.”

“And with four against two, they would have worn us down eventually,” Regulus admits. “I certainly don’t mind you turning up when you did.”

Sirius smiles crookedly, and glances at Violet. “Welcome to the family, assuming my brother doesn’t run you off.”

“I don’t think you need to be concerned about that,” Violet replies primly, with a sparkle in her dark eyes.

“We’re going to be late for class,” Pettigrew frets. “We’re already late.”

“Slughorn loves Sirius,” James replies, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. “But we really should get going.”

Sirius and his friends head towards Potions in the dungeon, and Regulus and Violet head to the Transfiguration classroom. McGonagall gives them both a very disapproving look when they enter a few seconds late. Then her eyes narrow, and Regulus suspects that she sees their disheveled state.

“Take your seats,” she orders. “We’ll talk after class.”

They’ve been sitting next to each other in every class they can, and Transfiguration is one of them. That day, they’re working on the theory behind changing a non-living object to a living one.

“Once you understand the theory, you’ll understand how to change any object into something of your choosing,” McGonagall says. “So, pay attention.”

He and Violet at least acquit themselves well, but not well enough to earn any points for Slytherin—or maybe McGonagall is still holding their tardiness against them. At least she hadn’t deducted any points over it.

When class is over, they both reluctantly stay behind, and McGonagall puts her hands on her hips. “Would you two like to explain why you were late?”

Regulus glances at Violet and shrugs, indicating that he’ll follow her lead.

“We were attacked in the hallway on our way to class, and we defended ourselves,” Violet declares. “We were quite lucky that Regulus’ brother and his friends stopped to help.”

McGonagall glowers. “Do you know who attacked you?”

“You know we can’t tell you that,” Violet replies. “We’re already under threat. Telling you who it was will only make things worse.”

McGonagall frowns. “It won’t matter if they’re expelled.”

“They didn’t cast anything like an Unforgivable,” Regulus says. “They wanted to hurt us, not kill us, and it would be better if we didn’t name them.”

She sighs. “I understand that, but that means they won’t stop.”

“They’re never going to stop,” Violet replies. “Not until we join them.”

“Be careful,” McGonagall says. “But I’m glad to hear that you and your brother are getting along better, Mr. Black.”

Regulus hesitates, and then he says, “I think Grandfather deserves most of the credit for that.”

“Your grandfather was always a formidable figure,” McGonagall says. “I knew him once upon a time.” She waves at them. “Go on. I know you have another class.”

Violet reaches for his hand as they leave the classroom. “What are you thinking?”

“I know what I’m thinking,” Elias says as he falls into step next to them. “I’m thinking strength in numbers is even more important.”

Regulus glances at him. “We’re fine. How did you know?”

“Your picture is in the dictionary next to impeccable,” Elias replies. “You weren’t impeccable when you got to class. Ergo, something happened.”

Violet sighs. “Yes, well, we probably wouldn’t have been in great shape if his brother hadn’t shown up.”

“I’m beginning to think that your brother has some sort of savior complex,” Elias comments. “Or a sixth sense for when you’re in trouble, maybe both.”

Regulus shrugs. “If they tried once, you know that they’re going to attempt it again.”

“I do know that, because I’m not an idiot,” Elias replies. “And if they go after you, they’ll go after any of us. Also a reason to be more careful about sticking together. I’m beginning to think that your brother might actually be decent, even if he is a Gryffindor.”

Violet rolls her eyes. “He’s very decent, as are his friends. I’m beginning to think there’s just something about the Blacks. Lord Black is quite formidable.”

“Well, forgive me for having some prejudices towards those self-righteous lions,” Elias mutters. “Maybe we should set up a buddy system with people from other Houses.”

“I don’t think that’s going to stop them, not now,” Regulus says.

Elias grimaces. “Probably not, but we can at least make it really hard for them.”

~~~~~

The run up to Christmas sees a spike of activity from the resident Death Eaters, and Sirius is incredibly grateful for the map. He can keep an eye on them, as well as his brother, while staying out of sight. But they’re not just going after Slytherins who refuse to join Voldemort, but anyone in the school they view as a blood traitor, or someone who might fight for the Light.

It’s harassment more than anything else, though. They’re not trying to kill anyone, just to send a message. Sirius assumes that they don’t want to be expelled, since that will reduce their usefulness to Voldemort.

It’s a reminder that no matter what Dumbledore says, Hogwarts isn’t entirely safe, and there will soon come a time when there’s no escaping the war.

Sirius tucks the map away after making sure the coast is clear to the Great Hall. “Where’s James?” Peter asks. “I didn’t see him in the common room.”

“He’s already in the Great Hall, trying to make an overture toward Lily,” Sirius replies. “I told him we’d wait a bit before joining them to give him a chance to ask her to the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Is he going to fall flat on his face again?” Remus jokes.

Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know, but James is giving her a run for her money as to who’s going to be top of the class this year. Lily seems like the kind of girl who would value that.”

They head for the Great Hall, and Sirius keeps his wand loose in its holster. He’s getting to be known as a vicious dueler, and he wants to maintain that reputation. It means it’s less likely that they’ll attack him, or his brother.

James is sitting next to Lily when they enter the Great Hall, closer than is strictly necessary, and Sirius grins. “Looks like he’s made some headway.”

“Don’t tease them too much, Sirius,” Remus says. “You don’t want to scare her off, not this early in the game.”

“Would I do that to him?” Sirius asks. “His happiness is important to me.”

Sirius sits down next to James and nudges him with his elbow with a raised eyebrow. James gives him a pointed look in return, and Sirius asks Lily, “What are your plans for the holidays?”

“I’ll go home to see my parents,” Lily replies, flashing an uncertain smile. “It’s never entirely comfortable, since my sister hates all things magical. What about you?”

“I’ll visit my grandfather,” Sirius replies. “Last Christmas was really good with him and my brother.”

Lily’s smile turns a little wistful. “I wish I could reconnect with Petunia, but I don’t think that’s very likely.”

“I didn’t think it was likely that I would reconnect with Reg, and here we are,” Sirius replies.

“What about you?” Lily asks Remus. “Will you be going home, too?”

“We all are,” Remus replies.

The rest of dinner passes pleasantly enough with Lily participating in their conversation, and then they head for the library to study together. That evening establishes a pattern, where Lily starts eating some meals with them, and studying with them in the library.

The next Hogsmeade weekend is the first one where the four of them don’t go together, and Sirius tries not to let that irritate him.

“You don’t mind, do you?” James asks, wrapping his red and gold scarf around his neck, and then shrugging into his coat. “I know we always go together.”

Sirius shrugs. “I’m glad Lily is finally giving you the time of day. I know how much you like her.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time with you, too,” James says. “It’s just—“

Sirius rolls his eyes. “James, go. Have a good time. I’ll be with Moony and Wormtail.”

“Pads—“

“Prongs.” Sirius waves him out. “Go. I’ll see you later.”

James leaves, and Remus gives him a sharp look. “You don’t strike me as someone who would get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius protests. “There’s no one I’m interested in that way, and even if there were, I probably wouldn’t pursue it, not when we have the war looming.”

“So, you’re not jealous of James,” Remus says.

Sirius shrugs. “Things are changing, Moony. That’s all. I’m sure we’ll all be fine.”

They get lunch at Hogwarts, and then head down to Hogsmeade. The day is bright and cold, the wind cutting. Peter hunches into his coat, tugging his hat a little lower on his head. “I don’t even know why we’re going, not when James is on a date with Lily.”

“We’re going because getting out of the castle is good for us, and this is the last Hogsmeade weekend before the holiday,” Remus points out reasonably. “We have to buy Christmas presents. What are you getting your grandfather?”

“Probably more sweets,” Sirius replies. “He seems to like them, and he was happy with them last year. What are you getting for your parents?”

Remus shrugs. “No idea, but probably books. Both mum and dad like to read. Peter?”

Peter grimaces. “I have no idea. My parents are impossible to buy for.”

“Well, you could always buy them some nice paper,” Remus suggests. “They’ll use it, anyway.”

“True,” Peter replies, brightening.

The group feels off without James’ presence, slightly unbalanced. Sirius has always been closest to James of his three friends, and to be without him feels strange and somehow wrong.

Peter doesn’t seem to notice, but Remus throws him the occasional worried look as they shop for sweets in Honeydukes, wander around Zonko’s, and then visit the bookshop and the paper goods store. They all buy presents and various things for themselves, and then they run into James and Lily on the way to the Three Broomsticks, wanting to grab a butter beer before heading back to the castle.

James and Lily are holding hands, and Sirius smirks at them. “Do you two care to join us?” he asks.

James glances at Lily, who smiles. “I don’t mind.”

“That sounds great,” James replies.

They find a table and drink their butter beers, discussing classes and the upcoming holidays. No one mentions the war or the Death Eaters or Voldemort.

Sirius is looking forward to visiting his grandfather, if only because he knows he’ll be safe, and his brother will be safe, too. Whole weeks without having to worry about getting cursed in the back for a change.

They’re all in high spirits as they leave the village to go back to the school, the wind cutting through their coats easily. They’re hurrying to get back to the castle so they can warm up and get dinner.

A curse narrowly misses Sirius and hits a tree, while another hits Peter squarely in the back. Sirius pulls his wand and ducks, looking around for their attackers.

“Peter! Are you okay?” James calls as Peter tries to stand.

Peter grunts. “I think so.”

“Stay down,” Lily advises. “Don’t make yourself a target again.” She has her wand out as well, and they all move so that their backs are to each other, and they’re protecting Peter, who seems to be having a hard time standing.

“Come on out, you cowards!” Sirius calls. “Face us.”

Another curse comes their way, and Remus throws up a shielding spell, while Sirius sends a reducto that direction. “Bloody hell,” Sirius says. “Does anyone see them?”

“I don’t see anyone,” James replies grimly.

Sirius sends the strongest, widest stunner that he can in the direction the curse came from, and he hears a couple of thumps. There’s rustling in the underbrush, and no more spells are sent their way.

“Moony, Lily, look after Peter,” James orders. “Pads, let’s go see what we’re dealing with.”

They both keep their wands out, and find some tracks in the snow, and some broken branches, but little else. “If they were seventh years, they could have apparated away,” James says. “What do you think?”

“I think they were pretty cowardly, trying to ambush us like that,” Sirius replies. “And they’re probably going to keep attacking us.”

James nods. “Come on, let’s go check on Peter. Do you think we should tell Dumbledore?”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “I think that will depend on whether we need to take Wormtail to the infirmary.”

Lily and Remus have managed to get Peter to his feet, and James looks Peter over. “You all right there, Peter?”

“I think it was just a stupid jelly-legs jinx,” Peter replies, still sounding shaky. “What was that? What did they want?”

“Whatever it was, they didn’t stick around to find out,” Sirius replies. “Which means they’ll probably try again.”

Lily frowns. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” James admits. “Maybe we should tell the Headmaster what happened.”

“Tell him what?” Sirius asks. “We don’t know who it was, or what they wanted.”

Remus nods slowly. “Padfoot is right. We can’t tell the Headmaster anything, because we don’t know anything.”

“I’ll talk to my grandfather,” Sirius adds. “Maybe he’ll have a suggestion.”

James nods. “You do that. Let’s get back, and not give them another chance at us.”

They hurry up to the castle, keeping their wands out, listening for any sounds that might indicate that they’re about to be attacked.

When they make it back to the school without incident, they break apart. Sirius is chilled right through to the bone, and they all take hot showers, trying to warm up and wash off the events of the day.

They’re all quiet, but Sirius recognizes James and Remus’ silence as thoughtful. Peter, on the other hand, seems more troubled.

Sirius figures that taking a curse in the back would probably upset anyone.

When they’ve dressed and are heading down to dinner, Sirius claps Peter on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Wormtail. We’ll watch your back.”

Peter’s smile is a little shaky, but it’s there. “Thanks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help today.”

“You did fine,” James says, and throws an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “But maybe we should brush up on our defense work. Figure out some more hexes we can send their way.”

The smile drops off Peter’s face. “Do you think it will happen again?”

“We didn’t present an easy target today,” Sirius reassures him. “They know what we can do now. They may leave us alone.”

Sirius doesn’t believe that, but he wants to make Peter feel better. There are only a couple of weeks until the holiday break, and Sirius wants to talk to his brother. Maybe Regulus will have heard or seen something that would help them pinpoint their attackers.

~~~~~

Regulus catches the significant look that Sirius sends his way, and he marvels at the way they’ve developed a shorthand after ignoring each other for so long. The coin vibrates in his pocket, and that means that Sirius wants to meet him in the Room of Requirement after dinner.

Regulus hitches a shoulder, indicating his assent.

Violet leans in close to him under the guise of nibbling on his ear. “What was that?”

“That was my brother asking for a meeting,” Regulus whispers. “Did anyone else catch it?”

“I don’t think so,” Violet replies. “But you’ll need to be careful. There are more than a few people at the table who are watching him and his friends.”

Regulus glances around, taking note of those sending particularly venomous looks towards the Gryffindor table, but that’s more than half of those present, especially among the upper classes. “Almost everyone is looking at them.”

“I know, which is why you two need to be careful,” Violet points out. “We’re already watching our backs. We don’t need to make it more dangerous for ourselves.”

Regulus nods. “I’ll speak to my grandfather about it. He might have a suggestion.”

They get through dinner, and Regulus makes certain that Violet is with their friends before he sneaks off to the Room of Requirement. He’s a little surprised when James appears after throwing off his cloak. “We’ll be outside,” James says. “And we’ll make sure you get to the library safely.”

Regulus’ eyebrows go up. “Did you follow me from the Great Hall?”

“I made sure you weren’t followed,” James replies. “Your brother wants to be sure that you stay safe.”

“Thanks,” Regulus replies, unable to come up with another response.

He enters the room and finds it much the same as it usually is when he meets Sirius there—roaring fireplace, two overstuffed chairs, and walls of books.

Sirius is staring at the fire, looking moody.

“What happened?” Regulus asks quietly.

“We were attacked on our way back from Hogsmeade,” Sirius replies. “I don’t know who it was. I’m pretty sure they apparated away.”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Regulus says quickly. “And even if I were still in their good graces, they probably wouldn’t tell me, unless they set it up as a test.”

Some of the old mischief sparks in his eyes. “And would you pass the test?”

“Of course not,” Regulus says impatiently. “Also, Violet thinks we’re being watched, and we should be more careful. I told her we’d speak to Grandfather about it.”

Sirius grunts. “She’s probably right about that. I’m sure Grandfather will have a reasonable solution.”

“If I do hear something, though, I’ll let you know,” Regulus replies. “No one was missing from dinner tonight at least.”

Sirius shakes his head. “The most I probably hit them with was a stunner, and a quick renervate will take care of that.”

Regulus feels a sense of mounting despair. “What are we going to do, Sirius? This war—“

“This war will end eventually, Reg,” Sirius says, his tone almost gentle. “And you’ll be well out of it. You can finish up at Hogwarts and take refuge with Grandfather so that there’s at least one Black still standing at the end of this.”

Regulus frowns at him. “I don’t want to be the only Black still standing at the end of this! You’re the heir.”

“And you’re quite capable of taking on that role,” Sirius replies. “I’m a bloody Gryffindor, remember?”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Regulus mutters. “I wish you would just—take your NEWTs and go stay at Black Manor. It’s unplottable, fortified, you’d be safe there.”

“And a lot of other people won’t be,” Sirius replies, and he turns to face Regulus head on, and then he actually drops out of his seat so he can kneel on the floor next to him, putting a hand on Regulus’ knee. “I hope you can understand that.”

Regulus swallows hard. “I can try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Sirius replies, patting Regulus’ knee. “We’ll be home soon, and we can mostly forget about this for a while.”

Regulus lets out a breath. “Yes, we can.”

“I should get going,” Sirius says. “I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful,” Regulus calls after him.

Once Sirius is gone, Regulus leans back in his chair and wishes that it were the holidays already, and that they were safe inside Black Manor.

The next couple of weeks pass by too slowly in Regulus’ estimation. As he indicated to Sirius, there’s no way that his housemates would tell Regulus what they’re up to, or that they’re targeting Sirius. Their estrangement is more for Regulus’ protection than his brother’s.

Violet and their friends try to offer a distraction from Regulus’ worries, but it’s no use. Things inside Hogwarts are getting worse, and he’s certain that it’s going to get worse yet before it gets better. If it ever does.

When examinations are over, and Regulus is back on the train and out of his school robes, he relaxes minutely. He does spare a thought for Kreacher, and wonders if his grandfather would allow him to check on the house elf.

The train pulls into Kings Cross station, and Regulus sees the same man—his grandfather’s solicitor—waiting for them.

Sirius shoulders past Regulus, although he winks at him, too, to show that he’s not really upset, and there are no hard feelings. “This way, boys,” the man says, s leading them to the apparition point outside the station.

He side-alongs the both of them to right outside the gates of Black Manor, and then they’re left to walk up the long drive by themselves.

“Why do you think he always brings us just outside the gates?” Regulus asks as they trudge along.

Sirius shrugs. “Probably because Grandfather doesn’t want to adjust the wards to allow anyone inside who isn’t family.”

“Were you attacked again?” Regulus asks. He thinks he would know, but Sirius has been extra careful recently.

Sirius shrugs. “A few hexes in the hallway, but nothing I couldn’t handle. It probably helps that we didn’t have another Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Are you going to avoid them in the future?” Regulus asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “I’m not going to stop living my life, Reg, so probably not. But I’ll be careful.”

“Are you going to at least tell Grandfather what happened?”

“Of course,” Sirius replies easily. “I have to tell him why we need a more secure method of communication, because he’s going to ask, and I doubt that he’s going to take no for an answer.”

Sirius puts an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a rough hug. “Hey, we’ve got a couple of weeks to ignore the war, right? Relax.”

Regulus takes a deep breath in, and then lets it out, his shoulders dropping from around his ears. “You’re right.”

He just wants some time to breathe.

~~~~~

Arcturus watches from the front door as Sirius and Regulus walk up to the house, Sirius’ arm around his brother’s shoulders. That warms his heart to see, and Arcturus swings the door open wide as they approach.

“How was your trip here?” Arcturus asks. “Cordy! Please put the boys’ trunks in their room. Refreshments in the study.”

“Of course, Lord Black,” she squeaks and then pops away.

“Come inside,” Arcturus says. “We’ll retire to the study and have some refreshments. Dinner won’t be for a little while yet, and I’m sure you’re both a little hungry.”

Cordy pops in with cookies and some small sandwiches, and Sirius takes a cookie and nibbles. Regulus does the same with a quick glance at his brother.

“Something you boys want to tell me?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius sighs. “We—my friends and I—were attacked on our way back from Hogsmeade on the last weekend. No one was seriously injured, but we also have no idea who attacked us. They either ran or apparated away before we could identify them.”

Arcturus frowns. “You weren’t hurt?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Peter took a curse to the back, but it was probably just a jelly legs jinx. He walked back to the castle on his own.”

“But we need a way to communicate,” Regulus says. “People are watching us, and we need to be able to talk to each other without anybody knowing.”

It’s a reasonable request, and one that Arcturus has already anticipated. “I think we can take care of that while you boys are here.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You already have something.”

“Very perceptive,” Arcturus praises. “Those powers of observation will serve you well. Now, why don’t you tell me how your term progressed.”

He notices that Sirius skirts the issue of Remus’ problem, and he knows it’s because of his brother’s presence. And then Regulus says, “I know, Sirius.”

“What do you know?” Sirius asks.

“I know about Remus being a werewolf,” Regulus says. “And I won’t say anything. I haven’t yet, have I?”

Sirius frowns. “How did you find out?”

“I saw the charm, and I was curious, so I did a little research,” Regulus admits shamelessly. “I wanted to know if it was something I needed to worry about.”

Arcturus has a more pressing question. “Does anyone else know about the charm?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, Remus’ parents told him not to tell anyone, especially the headmaster.”

“They don’t trust Dumbledore?” Arcturus asks, surprised.

Sirius shrugs. “They said they wanted him to be careful about his secrets, that’s all. The headmaster wanted us to think about joining his order.”

“Are you going to?” Arcturus asks mildly.

“When we’re done with school, maybe,” Sirius replies. “But—I think I need to spend this summer here, Grandfather, learning as much as I can.”

He wouldn’t have been able to ask his parents for that much, Arcturus knows, and Merlin knows that he’d prefer Sirius to stay out of it. Arcturus also knows that’s too much to ask, and he can’t prevent Sirius from joining the effort. Standing by is not the kind of man that Sirius is growing up to be.

“You’ll have whatever you need, my boy,” Arcturus promises.

Regulus looks mulish. “Why? I don’t see why you’d help him get himself killed.”

“There are innocents being killed, Reg!” Sirius bursts out. “Shouldn’t I at least try to prevent more people from being killed? More people like Remus getting bitten by a werewolf?”

“Yes, and Grandfather could forbid you from getting involved!” Regulus exclaims. “Tell him not to risk himself!”

He knows that he needs to address this before they go much further. “Sirius, if I asked you not to participate in the war, would you do so anyway?”

Sirius shifts. “Yes. I mean, I have to.”

“And if I threatened to disown you?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius appears supremely uncomfortable. “I don’t—I wouldn’t want that, but…”

“But you have to do what you believe is right,” Arcturus says quietly. “Because sometimes doing what you believe is right means that there are consequences.” He turns to look at Regulus. “Do you understand why I would prepare your brother for war?”

“You forced me to agree not to support the Dark Lord!” Regulus protests. “I don’t understand why—“

Sirius rolls his eyes. “It’s not at all the same. Did you really want to torture and kill people, Reg?”

That question hits home, and Regulus subsides. “No,” he admits. “But I wouldn’t have had to.”

“Are you that sure about it?” Sirius asks. “Do you know what Voldemort asks people to do in order to get marked?”

“No,” Regulus admits. “They won’t talk about it to anyone who hasn’t been.”

Arcturus sighs heavily. “Regulus, I asked you not to follow Voldemort because doing so will get you killed. As soon as you took that oath, the predictions from the goblin seers changed. That, and I don’t want anyone in my family marked as a slave to someone else. You’re a Black.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Regulus asks. “He wants Sirius to join his Order.”

“He’s a manipulative old bastard, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to ask Sirius to take a mark that will be a drain on his magic,” Arcturus replies. “There is a difference.”

Regulus pouts a bit at that. “I understand, Grandfather.”

“Good, I’m glad you do,” Arcturus replies. “Just as I trust that Sirius will exercise his best judgment, even when he’s throwing himself headlong into danger.”

Sirius snorts. “I have a lot of good reasons to live, and I have no intention of getting myself killed. That’s why I asked for additional training. I’m going to be as prepared as I can be.”

“And that’s why I’m providing him with training,” Arcturus says. “Because I have no interest in having to disown either of you. You’re two different people.”

Regulus nods. “I’d like to check on my parents’ house elf, Kreacher.”

Sirius grimaces, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Of course,” Arcturus replies. “Kreacher is a Black elf. You can call him here, but I’m going to order him to keep our secrets.”

Sirius pushes himself out of his chair. “If you’re going to call that house elf here, I’m going to wash up for dinner.”

Arcturus nods. “Dinner will be half an hour from now.”

Sirius nods politely enough. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Sirius leaves the room, and Arcturus asks, “Why doesn’t Sirius like Kreacher?”

“Kreacher would tell our parents when he did anything wrong,” Regulus admits slowly. “He and Sirius hate each other.”

Arcturus frowns. “Call Kreacher.”

“Kreacher, I need you,” Regulus says.

The house elf appears, looking overjoyed. “Master Regulus asks for Kreacher! I thought Master Regulus abandoned Kreacher.”

“I didn’t,” Regulus replies with a soft smile. “I’ve just been spending time with my grandfather.”

“Kreacher, look at me,” Arcturus orders. “Do you know who I am?”

Kreacher ducks his head and pulls at his ears. “Lord Black.”

“That’s correct,” Arcturus replies. “Regulus is fond of you, but if you want to see him, you’ll obey my commands, and you’ll keep our secrets. Do you understand?”

Kreacher nods miserably. “I understand.”

“Do you swear?” Arcturus asks implacably.

“I swear,” Kreacher says. “I swear.”

“Good,” Arcturus says. “Sirius Black is my heir. Do you understand what that means?”

Kreacher tugs at his ears harder.

“Grandfather,” Regulus begins, but Arcturus holds up a hand.

“Do you understand what that means?” Arcturus presses.

Kreacher nods miserably. “I understand.”

“Do you understand that he’s always been my heir, and he always will be?” Arcturus asks. “And if you betray him, you will betray the House of Black.”

“I won’t,” Kreacher moans.

“Good,” Arcturus says. He looks at Regulus. “You have to be firm, Regulus. If a house elf is willing to betray one member of a house, they cannot be trusted not to betray everyone in the house.”

Regulus nods but doesn’t reply. “I’ll leave the two of you alone then,” Arcturus says.

He appreciates that fact that Regulus has a soft heart where his house elf is concerned, but he’d meant it. A house elf that would act to the detriment of the heir has to be reined in.

Arcturus would make certain of it.

~~~~~

Sirius dresses carefully for dinner, and hopes that Kreacher is gone by the time they eat. He trusts his grandfather to protect him, and he doesn’t think that Kreacher can really hurt him here. Kreacher doesn’t have the power with his grandfather that he held in their parents’ house.

There’s a knock on his door, and Sirius calls, “Come in!”

He’s somehow unsurprised when his grandfather enters. “I’ve had a word with both your brother and Kreacher,” Arcturus says. “Kreacher has been ordered to treat you appropriately as the Black heir, which is what your parents should have done in the first place.”

“My parents have never asked me what I wanted, and they’ve never lifted a finger to protect me,” Sirius replies, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Arcturus takes a seat in the small sitting area of Sirius’ room. “I understand. I must apologize to you for not acting sooner.”

“You didn’t know,” Sirius says, uncomfortable with his grandfather’s frank word and gaze.

“No, but if I had been more involved, I would have known,” Arcturus replies. “I should have insisted. You are my heir.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “I didn’t think Blacks apologized.”

“We don’t,” Arcturus replies. “Unless it’s absolutely necessary and politically expedient.”

“And it was politically expedient to apologize to me?” Sirius asks, almost amused.

“You are my heir, Sirius, and you need to understand what that means, just as everyone else does,” Arcturus replies. “And it would be better for both of us if we’re honest with each other. You needed to know that I would exert some control over Kreacher, and to know that I regret the harm that came to you.”

Sirius swallows hard at that, feeling the emotion rise up to choke him. No one in his family had ever apologized to him, or expressed any regret or care for him. But his grandfather stands and rests a heavy hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Thank you,” Sirius manages to say.

Arcturus pats him on the shoulder. “Dinner will be served shortly. I’ll see you there.”

Sirius nods.

Once his grandfather has left, Sirius scrubs his hands over his face briskly, trying to bring his emotions under control. He has to admit that he understands his brother’s instinct for self-preservation a little bit more now, though.

Sirius composes himself, and then heads down to dinner. Regulus is a little chilly towards him and their grandfather, but he seems back to normal the next day. This Christmas is even better than the last one. His grandfather gives them both communication mirrors so they can speak with their grandfather without needing to use owls, which can be intercepted, as well as to each other, without the Room of Requirement.

The last gift is a dragon hide vest for each of them that will fit under their school uniforms easily. “To protect you both from curses to the back,” Arcturus says.

“Thank you,” Regulus says, sounding a bit subdued.

“Thank you,” Sirius echoes. “This is great, really. Everything has been great.”

Later that day, their grandfather has excused himself, and he and Regulus wind up back in their usual study.

“I’m going home for the summer,” Regulus suddenly announces. “At least for part of it.”

“You’re allowed,” Sirius replies, knowing that his brother expects disapproval. “They like you.”

Although, granted, their gift to Regulus this year was a new set of dress robes, and Sirius received a book about the Hogwarts founders. It’s a handsome book, leather bound and embossed, but it’s still a book about the Hogwarts founders that he could have picked up from the library.

But it’s at least a start. His parents seem to have accepted that he’s the heir, and that’s more than Sirius has received in the past.

Regulus shrugs. “Kreacher thought I had abandoned him.”

Sirius bites back the first thing that comes to mind, which is that the house elf would deserve a lot more than that. He knows that Regulus has a fondness for the creature, even if he doesn’t. “You do what you have to do, Reg. I’m not going to hold it against you. Just remember what you promised.”

Regulus snorts. “Mum and Dad might be blood purists, but they’d never join the Death Eaters. They have no desire to do anything other than sit inside their house and scare off Muggles.”

Sirius hasn’t seen his parents in a couple of years now, so he wouldn’t presume to say, but Regulus is probably right about that.

“I just think it’s important not to forget where we come from,” Regulus adds.

Sirius doesn’t know what to say to that, since he’d just as soon forget about his parents entirely. If it hadn’t been for his grandfather, Sirius would have run away from home, and wouldn’t have returned.

There are probably some things that he and his brother will never see eye to eye on, a gap between them that their grandfather can bridge, but only here at Black Manor.

“I don’t think I’ll ever go back there,” Sirius replies. “But I know it’s not the same for you.”

Sirius enjoys the rest of his time with his grandfather, but he can see that his illness is starting to weigh on him more heavily. He’s never without his cane, and he frequently excuses himself in the afternoon to nap. Sirius wants to believe that it’s nothing, and just a sign of advancing age, nothing to worry about, but he knows better.

He’s feeling a little melancholy when he heads back to school, hoping that his grandfather’s condition doesn’t deteriorate over the next few months.

“What’s wrong?” James asks as soon as they’re in a compartment. Remus and Peter haven’t shown up yet, and Sirius feels a little more comfortable talking to James about this than he does the other two.

Sirius sighs. “Grandfather was using his cane a lot more, and he was sleeping every afternoon while we were staying with him.”

“Maybe it’s just his age,” James says. “I mean, my parents like their afternoon naps, too.”

Sirius laughs. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Are you going to spend the summer with him again?” James asks.

“He’s promised to provide training,” Sirius replies. “I’m sure you could join me if you wanted.”

James nods slowly. “Probably not for the entire summer, but maybe a couple of weeks like last summer. Are you going to come visit us? My parents asked about you.”

Sirius is fond of James’ parents, and he says, “Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe right before school starts. I know that Grandfather won’t mind.”

Lily is the next to join them, rapping on the door to the compartment with a shy smile. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

James immediately moves over. “No, of course not.”

Sirius offers her the most welcoming smile he can muster. “How was your Christmas, Lily?”

“It was good,” she replies brightly, now more sure of her welcome, apparently. “How was yours? You were visiting your grandfather, right?”

Sirius nods. “I was. It was good.”

He doesn’t want to talk about the slight awkwardness with his brother, or his grandfather’s illness, or his plans to train for war the following summer. He’s grateful when Remus and Peter join them just before the train pulls out of the station. Remus is a little out of breath, and definitely rumpled, but his cheeks are ruddy with the cold January air, and he looks good.

“We overslept,” Remus admits as he sits down.

Peter also sits, slouching in his seat. “How was everyone’s holiday?”

The train ride back to Hogwarts has a slightly different dimension with Lily sharing their compartment. While she and James aren’t all over each other, they sit closer than is strictly necessary, and Sirius can see their hands brush often.

He and Remus share an amused look, although Peter appears mostly oblivious, complaining about his parents and how they hadn’t wanted to do anything for Christmas.

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “What would you have wanted to do instead?”

“Almost anything!” Peter replies. “Surely, you went to some parties or something.”

“There was a small gathering,” Sirius replies. “Mostly my grandfather’s close friends from the Wizengamot.”

It had been a repeat from the prior year, although Sirius had already known what to expect, and so hadn’t been as nervous. He’d focused on being polite and in paying attention to what was said—and what wasn’t.

Sirius is learning how to read between the lines, to sense political agendas. It helped to have his grandfather there to whisper in his ear, feeding him bits of information.

“See?” Peter says in an aggrieved tone. “Even an old man is more interesting than my parents. They didn’t invite anyone.”

Since Peter often complains about his parents and their lack of ambition or interest in the wider world, the rest of them usually tune it out. Privately, Sirius thinks Peter’s parents are afraid to attract the attention of the Death Eaters, and so they hide, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.

It’s not a bad strategy, and having met them, Sirius’ impression had been of timid people who just wanted to live quiet lives and be left alone. It’s hard to do that if you come to the attention of the Death Eaters.

That night, after the feast and when they’re getting ready for bed, Sirius removes his uniform shirt, which causes James to say, “What are you wearing, Padfoot?”

“That was my Christmas gift from my grandfather,” Sirius replies. “Dragon hide shirt that will help protect me from getting cursed in the back, at least somewhat.”

“Better than nothing,” Remus comments. “That’s quite the gift.”

Sirius has no idea how much something like this would cost, but considering that his grandfather had been willing to pay for the charm for Remus, Sirius isn’t surprised that he’d be willing to pay for something that would protect him.

“My grandfather seems to be invested in my future,” Sirius replies. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

“It’s good that he’s taken an interest,” James says. “You deserve that, Pads.”

Sirius can’t tell them about his grandfather’s apology, because it’s too big, and meant too much, but he plans on making his grandfather proud—and on staying alive.

~~~~~

Coming back from Christmas vacation is odd, if only because there are a number of seventh years who fail to return. The whispers that race around the common room indicate that some of those who had been marked chose not to return in order to better serve the Dark Lord. Two students are rumored to have disappeared, though, and no one knows whether they’re alive or dead.

Regulus sits with Violet and Elias, their heads bent close together. “What do you think?” he asks his friends.

“Sam and Diana weren’t Death Eaters,” Elias replies quietly. “But they weren’t really blood traitors, either.”

Regulus blows out a breath. “What do you think happened to them?”

“Who knows?” Violet asks. “Maybe they looked at a Death Eater the wrong way. Or they offended someone at a Yule party.”

Regulus had never heard her be so openly dismissive of the Death Eaters before, but he’s starting to feel the same way. He won’t join them, but he doesn’t want to be targeted for no reason at all when he’s still a blood purist.

It’s disconcerting to think that he could disappear without a trace just because someone takes exception to him.

That thought leads him to thinking about how his grandfather would feel, how Sirius might feel—and how the families of those who have disappeared or died might feel.

Regulus doesn’t want to think about that; he doesn’t want to let his thoughts go towards those who had been hurt or killed. He doesn’t want to think about the wake of destruction, when he’d planned on adding to it.

“Maybe so,” Regulus replies, troubled.

Violet might sense that, because she pats his arm. “There but for the grace of your grandfather, huh?”

Regulus shakes his head tightly. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Elias gives him a look. “Thank your lucky stars, Reg. We just have to make it through the next few years, right?”

Regulus smiles faintly. “My grandfather gave me armor for Christmas, so if we get cursed in the hallway, you might want to hide behind me.”

“Your grandfather is a smart man,” Elias comments. “Because I think you’re probably going to need it.”

The mood in Slytherin is some strange mix of elation and fear, depending on whether someone is marked or not. Those who are marked are obviously excited; those unmarked walk around with their heads down and their shoulders hunched.

Regulus doesn’t, though. He keeps his head up and his shoulders squared. He has his armor, and he has his friends, and his job is getting through the year alive.

He plays Quidditch, and he goes to classes, and he realizes that his feelings for Violet are turning from affection into something deeper.

And then, close to the Easter holidays, Violet comes to breakfast with tears in her eyes, her face splotchy from crying.

“Who is it?” Regulus asks. “What happened?”

Violet grabs for his hand. “My older sister and her husband, and their baby. All of them, Reg.”

Regulus pulls her close, cradling the back of her head with his hand, at a loss for words. He’d always believed that his parents were safe, that he was safe. He hadn’t cared so much about his brother, not really, but this is Violet.

Violet, who is fierce and kind, and who has been so very good to him. Regulus hasn’t felt the Death Eaters’ depredations so close to his own life yet.

And now he has.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Violet replies. “They refused to join, right?”

“But they were blood purists, and they didn’t make waves,” Regulus protests.

Violet shook her head. “No, my sister lives in a regular town, not a wizard enclave. There was a Muggle family that was attacked who lived nearby. They stepped in.”

Regulus’ initial reaction is that they got what they asked for then, but he checks himself, because he knows that’s not the right answer.

It never was. It never was.

“I know it wasn’t my fault, but I’m still sorry,” Regulus says quietly. “They didn’t deserve that, and they never should have been targeted.”

Violet pulls back. “You’re not thinking about doing something stupid, are you?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No. I’m not. At least not for a few years.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” Violet asks. “Promise me, Reg. You promised to stay neutral. There are things we can do without calling attention to ourselves.”

That’s the moment when Regulus decides that while he might remain publicly neutral, he needs to do something in private. He activates the coin that will signal Sirius that he wants a meeting. If nothing else, he wants to tell Sirius what had happened to Violet’s family.

He hasn’t met up with Sirius at all since the start of term, so he knows the signal will probably be a surprise to his brother.

But then again, maybe not. Gossip travels fast at Hogwarts, even between the Houses. There’s every possibility that Sirius will hear about what happened by the time they’re due to meet.

Regulus’ thoughts are racing all day, although he tries to be present for Violet, and as supportive as possible.

After dinner, Regulus checks with Violet to make sure she’ll be all right on her own for a bit, and that question rouses her. “In spite of my name, I’m no shrinking violet, Regulus Black. I’ll be fine.”

Regulus chuckles. “I do know that. But there are extraordinary times, Vi.”

“They are,” she replies soberly. “But I really will be fine. I plan to go to my parents tomorrow morning.”

Regulus isn’t surprised. “Of course. I’ll be in the library in a little bit.”

Sirius is waiting for him in the Room of Requirement, feet stretched out towards the roaring fire. “I heard already, Reg. You’ll pass the condolences on to Violet, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Regulus replies. “How did you hear?”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “A pureblood couple with no interest in either side of this war, along with their infant child, are annihilated. Because they protected their neighbors.”

Regulus bites back his first response, that they had invited attention by interfering with a Death Eater mission. He knows better than to say as much, though. Sirius wouldn’t find the idea amusing. Best not to give voice to those thoughts at all.

His second response is to say, “I feel as though I need to get involved, Siri.”

“I can understand why you’d feel that way in the moment,” Sirius says carefully. “But I think you’re right to claim neutrality. It’s safer for you that way.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be safer,” Regulus protests. “Not when I could make a difference!”

“Doing what, Reg?” Sirius asks. “You can’t join them, your oath to Grandfather—“

“I could spy on them,” Regulus bursts out. “If I only pretended to join—“

“Reg, no,” Sirius insists. “It’s far too dangerous, and you’d still have to take the mark. They’re not going to give you any information without that on your arm. And then you have a drain on your magic and our family magic.”

Regulus sits back in the chair with a sense of disappointment, knowing that his brother is right, and that their grandfather would absolutely forbid such a thing. “I want to be able to do my part, too. When people like Violet’s sister get killed, it’s gone too far.”

Sirius gives him a narrow-eyed look, but he doesn’t try to pick a fight over Regulus’ choice of words. “Maybe we can figure something out,” he finally says, “but offering to spy on the Death Eaters is right out.”

Regulus scrubs his hands over his face. “Violet is just so hurt.”

“It’s her sister,” Sirius replies. “Just like I’d be hurt if something happened to you. Do you know the consequences you’d face if someone realized you were a spy?”

Regulus figures that a quick curse would be the best he could hope for, and it would be more likely that he’d end up tortured to death. “Nothing good.”

“You’re damn right nothing good,” Sirius replies.

Regulus grimaces. “I guess I was being rash.”

Sirius snorts. “Rash would have involved you asking one of your Death Eater housemates if you could swear allegiance to Voldemort without talking to me or Grandfather first.”

Regulus has to admit that his brother does have a point. “Violet is going home to her parents tomorrow, to be with them.”

“Makes sense,” Sirius replies. “You might think about sending flowers. Grandfather will want to know, as well.”

Regulus hadn’t thought about that. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Do that tonight,” Sirius advises. “He’ll want to act quickly to express his condolences and make any offers that he thinks ought to be made.”

“What sort of offers?” Regulus asks.

“Protection, probably, if they’re concerned that they might also be targets,” Sirius replies.

Regulus should have known that, but he just isn’t thinking straight. The idea that he could be killed, or that his family could be killed, is becoming real to him in a way it never had before.

“I should have known that,” Regulus mutters.

“You’re allowed to be off-kilter, Reg,” Sirius says. “Your girlfriend’s sister got killed, and they’re purebloods. It kind of drives home the point, right?”

“Yeah, it does,” Regulus admits. “I didn’t—I didn’t want to think about it.”

“It’s always easier if something is happening to someone else,” Sirius replies. “Or someone else’s friends or family.”

Regulus hates the implication, but he doesn’t argue. “I know.”

“Look, get out of here, go be with your girlfriend, and make sure you contact Grandfather tonight,” Sirius says. “I’m going to leave first so we’re not spotted together. Did you wear your armor!”

“Of course,” Regulus replies. “I don’t leave the Slytherin dungeon without it on, mostly because I know what Grandfather would say if I got cursed in the back and wasn’t wearing it.”

“He wouldn’t have anything good to say about your intelligence, that’s for sure,” Sirius replies. “Good. I’m glad you’re being vigilant. We’re probably mostly safe inside the castle, but be careful on the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

Regulus shakes his head. “If Violet insists on going, I’ll go, but I think it would be prudent not to provide easy targets.”

“Good luck with that, and watch your back,” Sirius replies. “Will I see you at all during the summer?”

Regulus hesitates. “Actually, I think I might spend the first two weeks with Grandfather after all. I think it would be a good idea to have another couple of weeks with that dueling instructor. I imagine you’re going to get other training, too.”

“Whatever training I can,” Sirius replies.

“And how is it that you can go to war, and I can’t?” Regulus complains.

Sirius gives him a patently insincere smile. “Should have been sorted into Gryffindor, or maybe be born first.”

“Get out of here,” Regulus says. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“I’m going to meet you if you need me,” Sirius replies. “Just call whenever, okay?”

“i will,” Regulus promises.

And maybe he feels lucky that he has a brother like Sirius. At least a little bit.

He finds an empty classroom, because he has the communication mirror on his person, and he calls him.

His grandfather picks it up immediately, and as soon as he sees Regulus’ face, he asks, “What’s wrong, my boy?”

“Violet’s sister and her family were killed by Death Eaters,” Regulus blurts out. “I talked to Sirius about it, and he said I should tell you right away.”

Concern creases the lines in his face. “How is Violet?”

“She’s going to be with her parents tomorrow morning,” Sirius replies. “Do you think we should go to the funerals?”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arcturus says gently. “It could put us in danger as well.”

Regulus frowns, “But, Grandfather—“

“It’s not a good idea, but it may be the right thing to do,” Arcturus says. “It might make us targets, but that’s not a reason not to go, if you understand the risk.”

“I understand,” Regulus replies. “I really like Violet, Grandfather.”

“That’s becoming quite obvious,” Arcturus replies. “Be careful, Regulus. I’ll make some inquiries, and I’ll be in touch. Go find your friends, and be careful.”

Regulus had known it was a risk, but then he finds himself exiting the classroom with Remus standing guard outside.

“The coast should be clear,” Remus murmurs. “Keep your wand loose. I’ll be right behind you the whole time.”

Regulus admits that he feels better having someone watching his back, and he thinks he likes Remus the best out of Sirius’ friends.

Sure enough, Remus follows him all the way to the library, and then splits off to sit with his own friends. Regulus sees Remus hand Sirius a piece of paper, and he would bet that it’s the map that he’s seen before.

He slides into the seat next to Violet, and whispers to her, “Let me know about any arrangements. My grandfather and I will attend if possible.”

Violet nods quickly. “It might be dangerous.”

“Grandfather said as much, but I will be there if you need me.” Regulus squeezes her hand.

Violet leans into him briefly with a grateful smile. “I’m sure my parents will be very appreciative of the gesture.”

Regulus isn’t sure whether he’s relieved or upset when he gets an owl from Violet two days later, and she tells him that they’ve opted for a small, private funeral, just her immediate family.

“We don’t want to put anyone else at risk,” Violet writes. “If it’s just us, no one needs to decide whether to risk attending, and I don’t think my parents could bear to see just how few people come out in support.”

Regulus hates that they can’t even hold a public funeral, and allow anyone else to attend who simply wants to pay their respects.

The funeral is in a couple of days, and then Violet plans to return to school the following Sunday night. She reminds Regulus to take good notes for her, and ends with “yours always.”

“How is she?” Elias asks, since Regulus had saved the letter to read in the library after dinner.

“I can’t tell,” Regulus replies. “But the funeral is going to be private, with just immediate family.”

Elias grimaces. “That has to be terrible for them.”

“I think they’re worried about how many people wouldn’t come, reading between the lines of the letter,” Regulus admits.

“That’s a pile of shit,” Byron hisses. “How dare they think we’re on the firing line? I mean, I get that they interfered in a Death Eater mission, but they were attacking their neighbors! I don’t want to befriend Muggles, but don’t think I’d be okay watching anyone get murdered or tortured.”

“No one should be okay with it,” Myra says. “I mean, what if those Muggles give birth to a Muggle-born who’s the next Merlin?”

“Everyone knows that the best wizards come from pureblood families,” Elias says with disdain.

Myra rolls her eyes. “That’s Slytherin propaganda.”

“Enough,” Regulus says. “People don’t have to be intelligent, or even the next Merlin, to deserve not being tortured or murdered.”

That stops the argument in its tracks, and they all nod. “What are we going to do?” Byron asks. “We have to do something.”

“My brother is training this summer,” Regulus replies. “He’s preparing for war. But we don’t have to join Dumbledore’s side in order to fight back.”

“It’s time to start our own campaign for the neutral parties,” Elias says. “We don’t have to agree on everything, but we do have to agree that we’re not going to let them prey on our own people without repercussion.”

“We need to train, and we need to come up with our own ways to get information,” Regulus says. “Elias and I are in the Slytherin common room all the time. We can come up with passive communication techniques, at least while we’re still at Hogwarts.”

Regulus can’t tell them what Sirius had done—create a map and become an animagus—for Remus. He and his friends could do a lot if they really set their minds to it.

Maybe there is a third road—not darkness, not light, but well-armed neutrality.

Chapter 6

Arcturus hasn’t seen Rockhand in some time. His illness is progressing, but slowly. He needs his cane for balance, and he needs a nap in the afternoon, but he’s confident that no one would be able to tell from his outward appearance.

But he knows that both boys are going to be spending time with him that summer, and Regulus just agreed to come for a couple of weeks, and asked to be included in Sirius’ lessons. The fact that his girlfriend just lost several members of her family means that Regulus is motivated.

To do what, Arcturus doesn’t know, but it’s something. He’s been blowing hot and cold since Christmas, but Arcturus isn’t surprised. After all, he’d been quite stern with the boy, and he doubts that his parents ever had been with Regulus as the clear favorite.

“I have update for you,” Rockhand says, taking a sip of the tea that Arcturus has provided for them. “Things have changed slightly.”

Arcturus takes a deep breath. “I see. Please, tell me.”

“The seers believe that your younger grandson is putting himself in danger,” Rockhand says. “They aren’t predicting his death, but they’ve seen several possibilities of his dying at a young age.”

Arcturus nods. “And Sirius?”

“His future is also murkier,” Rockhand admits. “But we believe it might be contingent upon Regulus’ choices.”

The boys are going to be there in a few days, and Arcturus will speak to them both about their choices then. He knows that they both have reason to act against Voldemort and his Death Eaters at this point, and there’s nothing like a riled up Black.

Arcturus can think of a few reasons that he’d be willing to go to war, including actions taken against anyone in his family.

If someone had targeted his wife, for example, Arcturus would have gone to war ten times over.

“What do the seers suggest?” Arcturus asks. “What should I do?”

“Speak with them,” Rockhand suggests. “Find out what they’re planning, and then let me know. If the seers know what they’re planning to do, they might be able to gain clearer sight.”

Arcturus considers that. “I don’t suppose you’d like to meet them.”

“Sirius, perhaps,” Rockhand says. “I’d like to get the measure of your heir.”

Arcturus knows what that means, but he doesn’t disagree. “Very well. I’ll set something up.”

He meets his grandsons at the front door when they arrive, and he’s worried enough to offer them both a quick hug. Sirius immediately shoots him a look, but he’s warm. “Thank you, Grandfather. It’s good to see you.”

“And you, my boy,” Arcturus replies. “We have a few appointments this week, but I have various experts who are willing to train you. Are your friends going to visit?”

“That’s the plan,” Sirius replies. “In another week.”

“Same with my friends,” Regulus adds.

Arcturus nods. “Good. I look forward to seeing them again. Come inside and get settled.”

He’ll have Regulus for two weeks, and Sirius for most of the summer. Arcturus plans on waiting until Regulus has gone to his parents to speak with Sirius about his choices, and set up a meeting with Rockhand. He thinks it’s time for Sirius to get a more in-depth view of what’s going on.

Arcturus hopes it’s enough time, because he’s rapidly running out of opportunities to influence Sirius before he throws himself headlong into the war effort for Dumbledore.

Dinner is quiet, with Regulus pushing his food around on his plate, and Sirius shooting him worried glances. “How did the end of the year go?” Arcturus asks.

“Fine,” Regulus replies. “I expect to get good grades on all of my exams.”

“Sirius?” Arcturus prompts. “How about you?”

“I think I did well,” Sirius replies, “but I suppose time will tell.”

“When do the results come out?” Arcturus asks.

“Later this summer, along with prefect and Head Boy and Girl announcements,” Sirius replies. “After his performance this year, James might be in the running, and Head Girl is almost certainly going to Lily Evans.”

“It’s never a Slytherin,” Regulus grumbles.

“It was a Slytherin two years ago,” Sirius points out. “And there might be others who would have been nominated if they hadn’t left school early because of the Death Eaters.”

Regulus snorts. “I know.”

Arcturus knows that he’ll need to speak with Regulus at some point, too. He hadn’t expected reckless behavior out of Regulus, but if he’s grown that attached to Violet Miller, it does make sense.

Still, he feels as though he needs to nip that in the bud as much as possible.

Regulus begs off soon after dinner, though, claiming exhaustion and a desire to go to bed. Arcturus invites Sirius to join him in the study, handing him a butter beer, and pouring a glass of fire whiskey for himself.

“You’re using your cane more,” Sirius says bluntly. “When was the last time you saw the healer?”

“Just last week, and he says that it’s progressing, but not as quickly as it could,” Arcturus replies. “He can’t tell me how much time I might have left, but that’s not important. What’s important is what I do with that time. You only have one year of school left.”

“I wouldn’t have to go back,” Sirius points out. “I could leave now, just focus on training, stopping the Death Eaters.”

Arcturus nods slowly. “You could, and that would be your choice. I won’t force you to go back to school, but I think it would be a mistake to leave before you take your NEWTs. And you deserve to have another year to be a student, another year to be normal.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows. “Grandfather, I wear armor all the time outside of my dorm room, and I’m going to spend my summer training for war. I think we’re way past normal.”

“Well, as normal as possible,” Arcturus replies. “What’s going on with your brother? I had some worrying news.”

“From the goblins?” Sirius asks. “You’re still seeing them?”

“I’m taking no chances with the House of Black,” Arcturus replies. “And that means staying in regular contact with the seers. Things have been murkier of late.”

“Regulus suggested that he could serve as a spy on the Death Eaters,” Sirius says. “I pointed out that his oath would never let him take the mark, and that he’d never get close if he didn’t have it. I think I managed to talk him out of it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do something rash.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Arcturus admits, resting his chin on his folded hands. “You know, we put such faith in the characteristics we supposedly exhibit based on how we’re sorted. We tell ourselves that we can predict behavior based solely on a person’s primary characteristic—or the primary characteristic as identified by a magical hat.”

Sirius frowns. “You don’t think we can be defined so simply.”

“I have been alive a very long time,” Arcturus replies. “Do you really believe that your brother, a Slytherin, would be incapable of make a rash decision? Or that you, a Gryffindor, is incapable of being cunning?”

“No, of course not,” Sirius replies. “Both of those things are patently untrue.”

“Well, then,” Arcturus says. “You have your answer. What do you think Regulus is most likely to do?”

“Right now, nothing,” Sirius replies. “But if he’s not a Death Eater, he’s going to be making friends with people who aren’t Death Eaters, and that means there will be other people he knows and cares about who will become targets. When Regulus cares about someone, he’s all in, and that’s only going to get worse.”

Arcturus is a little surprised by Sirius’ clear-eyed analysis. “I think you’re right about that. What would you expect?”

“Got any ideas on how to kill Voldemort?” Sirius asks, and while his tone is facetious, his eyes are grim. “Because that’s what it’s going to take. I think a lot more people are going to end up dead before this is all over.”

“I know,” Arcturus replies. “And I can try to prepare Regulus for that fact, but as his brother, you may have more sway.”

“Or none at all,” Sirius counters. “If you ask me, I’d secure his oaths and wrap him up in cotton wool, at least as much as possible. It would be better if you could send him off after Hogwarts. Offer to pay for a mastery for him and Violet, if they’re both interested. Send them out of the country. Voldemort’s reach isn’t that long yet.”

“Do you think he’d agree?” Arcturus asks.

“I think you might want to make him,” Sirius replies. “For his own good. And if he’s out of the country, that’s at least one less target to deal with. If Violet goes with him, that’s two less. I think it’s worth exploring the option, but you may want to have him renew that vow, maybe make it more specific.”

Arcturus nods. “I’ll consider it, and it’s a good suggestion. Thank you.”

Sirius shrugs. “Anything to keep my brother safe.”

“i’ll do my best,” Arcturus promises.

It’s all any of them can do, he knows.

~~~~~

Regulus expects his grandfather to corner him. He knows that Sirius would have spoken to their grandfather, would have told him that Regulus suggested spying on Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

After having thought about it long and hard, Regulus knows that it had been a foolhardy suggestion, brought about in a moment of grief and anger. Violet is still sad about her sister, of course, but Regulus getting himself killed won’t bring her back.

And it would just make Violet even more sad—he thinks. He hopes.

Sirius is working with one of the tutors that Arcturus had obtained for him in advanced defensive magic, which is a little beyond Regulus’ skills at present. He could have attended, but he opts for time in the library, researching various spells and potions that might help them.

“You do realize that your brother told me about your plans,” Arcturus says, leaning heavily on his cane as he enters the study.

“They weren’t plans,” Regulus protests. “More like poorly-thought-out impulses. I just—it’s not fair that they targeted Violet’s sister, or that they killed a baby.”

There’s some part of Regulus that keeps trying to justify what happened—there’s still a part of him that keeps pointing out that Violet and her husband came to the defense of Muggles.

But the justification falls apart when he thinks about Violet’s niece. He’s seen pictures of the chubby baby, waving enthusiastically at the camera, a wide, toothless grin on her face.

Arcturus sits down in the chair next to Regulus’ heavily. “Hm. What would you kill for, Regulus?”

Regulus shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“I’m sure that you don’t,” his grandfather replies. “But I want you to think about this: what would you kill for?”

Regulus doesn’t have an answer to that, and so he maintains his silence.

“Would you kill to protect me?” Arcturus asks.

Regulus can’t quite meet his eyes, but he says, “I don’t know. Probably.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes,” he says reluctantly. His answer would have been different a year ago, but that was then.

“Your parents?”

Regulus nods. “I think so.”

“Violet?”

Regulus rubs his eyes. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important to figure out where your boundaries are before someone asks you to step across a line,” Arcturus says.

“I probably would,” Regulus admits reluctantly. “I really like her.”

Arcturus nods slowly. “There are people that I would kill to protect—your grandmother was one, my children, my grandchildren, of course. But I would not let myself be pressed into the service of a monster in order to protect them, or you. Do you understand the difference?”

“It’s different killing someone who’s pointing a wand at you with the intent to kill,” Regulus says dully. “They’re killing babies for sport.”

“Good, I’m glad you understand the difference,” Arcturus replies. “It’s easy to be caught up in a crowd, to get carried away. I’m grateful that I had so many years in the Wizengamot. Do you know why?”

Regulus shakes his head silently.

“Because I had to find common ground with many people, including those who disagreed with me vehemently,” Arcturus replies. “The House of Black has always valued being pure of blood. Until Andromeda, not a single Black had married someone with a Muggle relative that was under three times removed. I don’t regret that.”

Regulus looks at him, startled. “But Sirius—“

“Sirius and I have a difference of opinion, and there will come a day when he’s the Head of our house, and he may make different choices,” Arcturus admits. “He may even marry a Muggle-born—or worse, someone with no magic, although I doubt it. And if he doesn’t marry or sire an heir, and you end up being the head of the House, then you may make different choices than he would have, or that I would have. Do you understand?”

Regulus nods slowly. “There’s room for disagreement in civilized society, but Voldemort doesn’t allow for that at all.”

“Precisely,” Arcturus replies. “What sort of a monster kills children?”

“I almost followed him,” Regulus says in a whisper, because that’s what has been on his conscience lately. “I could have been marked, and then I might have been there, and I might have… I might have…”

He can’t complete the thought, and he’s fighting back tears, and his grandfather merely watches him with compassion, although he doesn’t offer any platitudes. He doesn’t say that Regulus is better than that, or that he would have come to his senses.

Maybe Regulus would have come to his senses if Voldemort threatened someone he loved, but he’d cut his brother out of his life, and all his friends had been Death Eaters, or those destined to join them. It hasn’t been until now that Regulus has been able to care for anyone else.

“Your brother has advised me to wrap you up in additional oaths, but I don’t think that’s necessary, is it?” Arcturus asks. “This has been a very expensive lesson, at least for some, but you now know that there are lines you will not cross.”

Regulus turns burning eyes towards him. “I don’t—I don’t want to hurt anyone. We can advocate for purebloods in other, better ways. I haven’t changed my politics, but I don’t think we can use any means necessary.”

“Good,” Arcturus replies. “I’m glad you realize that.”

“I thought it was a game,” Regulus finally admits. “I thought scaring Muggles was funny, that it wasn’t a big deal.”

Arcturus sighs audibly. “Pureblood culture is worth protecting, my boy. Our traditions are worth protecting, and I will always believe that. But not having magic shouldn’t make Muggles a target for torture or murder.”

“I know,” Regulus says soberly. “No one should be hurt like that. I think I get that now.”

“Remember there are ways to protect our way of life that don’t put others in jeopardy,” Arcturus says. “The Statute of Secrecy is there to protect our way of life, to keep us safe. Attacking Muggles is a crime for a very good reason.”

Regulus feels suitably chastised. “I understand.”

“I’m glad that you do,” Arcturus replies. “I don’t want to be hard on you, Reg. We all go through phases where we experiment with anarchy. But it’s incumbent upon those of us from the right families to also set the right example.”

Regulus rubs his hands on his pants. “Do you think he will win?”

“No, I don’t, because people like your brother won’t let that happen,” Arcturus says. “And there are enough people who want to stop him, that I don’t think he ever will win, even if he might have some victories along the way.”

His grandfather pauses, and then says, “You don’t have to be a spy, or do something stupidly brave, you know. You can be a quiet agent of change.”

“How do you mean?” Regulus asks, feeling a burgeoning hope, because his grandfather sounds so certain.

“Offer people a third path, the option of neutrality,” Arcturus replies. “Protect your own. Be clear about what you will and won’t do. You can offer a middle road.”

Regulus considers that for a moment, and then he says, “I think that’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Then keep doing that,” Arcturus replies. “Because there’s safety in numbers, lad.”

“i know,” Regulus replies. “So, I have to keep building our numbers.”

“Good,” Arcturus replies. “You’ll do just fine.”

Regulus’ friends arrive the following day, as do the rest of the Marauders, as Sirius and his friends are known around the school. Away from Hogwarts and prying eyes, they’re all friendly, greeting each other with handshakes and back slaps and even a few hugs.

Arcturus greets each of them by name, and asks a question about their families. He pulls Violet aside, though, and has a quiet word with her, an arm around her shoulders. Regulus sees Violet bury her face in his grandfather’s shoulder, and Arcturus presses a kiss to the top of her head.

The others all sober at that, reminded of the tragedy that had befallen her, and Sirius says, “Let’s go inside. I think Cordy has snacks.”

He pauses as he passes Violet and presses a hand to her shoulder. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Violet.”

Violet lifts her head, and her eyes are burning. “Take him down for me, please.”

“I’ll do the best I can,” Sirius replies. and follows their grandfather’s lead, kissing her forehead.

Regulus hovers around the door, waiting for Violet, feeling as though he should. When Arcturus releases her, Violet tucks herself under Regulus’ arm. “I’m okay,” she murmurs. “Your grandfather was just being kind.”

“He must like you, then,” Regulus jokes.

“Of course, I like her,” Arcturus replies. “She’s a bright, lovely girl, and would be a grand edition to any house she graced.”

Violet blushes. “And you’re too kind.”

“Rarely,” Arcturus replies. “Go on inside, you two. Enjoy the snacks. I know Cordy and the other house elves have outdone themselves.”

His grandfather is right about that. When they enter the study they usually occupy, there’s a table that’s just groaning with various treats—pumpkin pasties, treacle tarts, biscuits of all types—you name the treat, and it’s on the table. There’s tea and butter beers, too, and while Violet hangs on to his arm, she seems cheerful enough for now.

And when they’ve all filled their plates, and they’re ranged around the study, Sirius says, “We have to come up with a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” Elias asks. “You Gryffindors will join the battle, and the rest of us will sit back and hope that we don’t have to deal with the fallout.”

Sirius takes a deep breath and then leans forward. “Don’t you all see? That’s how Voldemort is winning. He’s set up a situation where it’s us against them. It’s the light against the dark, but what if we created a situation where it was the rest of us against the Death Eaters, in whatever capacity people wanted to participate?”

Byron matches Sirius’ posture. “Explain.”

“Neutrality is an option, and we could make it an attractive one,” Sirius replies. “We protect neutral parties, right? Just like we protect those on the side of the light. We offer people whatever they need.”

Regulus nods. “We can do that. If we arm ourselves, and we show we can protect ourselves, people will start to see our option as a viable one.”

“We can do that,” Violet insists. “If my sister had people protecting her once she knew… They might still be alive.”

“They might,” Sirius says. “And we should protect them, no question. So, let’s make a plan. We only have one more year of school, but the rest of you have at least a couple. You might hear things. We can figure out who to approach, and how to approach them. We can be smart about this.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Elias objects. “It’s always been join the light or be out on your own with him.”

Sirius smirks in that reckless way he has. “Who cares about Dumbledore? This is our plan. These are our lives. We do what we need to do in order to keep people alive, and keep the wizarding world safe.”

And Regulus loves his brother just a little bit more in that moment.

~~~~~

Sirius is beginning to come up with a plan. Even if people stay neutral, rather than joining the fight, those are still people who aren’t with Voldemort. They’re still people they don’t have to fight.

His friends don’t say anything in the moment, but later, when it’s just the four of them, James says, “Pads, what the hell? I thought we were going to join the Order. We talked about this.”

“I don’t want my brother in the Order,” Sirius says bluntly. “I don’t want anyone in the Order who isn’t fully committed to the cause.”

“Granted,” James says. “But—“

“And not everyone is going to be committed to the cause,” Sirius continues. “So, instead of letting them be bullied into submission, and taking up arms for Voldemort, we give them a third choice. It’s not an either/or proposition that way.”

“You make a really good pint, Pads,” Peter says, which is unexpected. “If people think they can stay neutral, maybe that’s an option they’ll take.”

“People are afraid,” Remus agrees. “We could give them the opportunity to be less afraid.”

James takes a deep breath. “Okay, that does make sense, now that you say it. Not everyone wants to fight a war.”

“I don’t want to fight a war,” Peter mutters.

“You don’t have to,” Sirius says. “No one is going to force you to join the Order. You can just live your life after school.”

“You’re all going to join,” Peter protests. “I don’t want to be left behind.”

“I might not,” Remus inserts. “I’m pretty sure that Dumbledore is going to ask me to go to the werewolf packs, and I can’t do that without revealing the goblin charm, which I’m not going to do.”

James elbows Sirius. “I guess that just leaves you and me, assuming that you’re still willing.”

“I am,” Sirius says. “I’m going to use this summer to train.”

“I think I’m going to join you,” James declares. “We can spend a couple of weeks with my parents at the end of the summer.”

And that’s exactly what they do. Peter and Remus go home after a couple of weeks, and Regulus leaves at the same time that his friends do. But Sirius and James learn everything they can from every instructor his grandfather can drum up—the dueling master, yes, but also a retired Auror who walks with the help of a cane and a couple of wooden legs, but is still faster than a snake in a duel. There’s the potions master who teaches them defensive brewing, and the fencing instructor who teaches them to be quick on their feet and move like every fight is a dance.

By the time they’re due to leave, Sirius feels far more prepared to join the Order, and feels like he could be an asset.

And their school lists come before they’re scheduled to go to James’ house. James gets the Head Boy badge and grins at it stupidly. “I didn’t think this would happen.”

Sirius snorts. “Come on, Prongs. Lily started paying attention to you for a reason. You really put in the work this year.”

“It could have been you,” James argues.

Sirius shakes his head immediately. “No, it couldn’t have been. Besides, I’m pretty sure Dumbledore knows that you and Lily are dating, and the man seems to love his symmetry.”

“I should write Lily and see,” James announces. “If she came to visit before school, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

James bolts from the study, and Sirius rolls his eyes at his friend. James and Lily have been exchanging letters on a twice-weekly basis all summer. Sirius is just surprised that it had taken James this long to ask.

“What lit his tail on fire?” Arcturus asks as he limps into the library.

His grandfather’s decline has been gradual, but Sirius thinks this will be the last summer that Arcturus will allow them to bring friends around. He’s leaning on his cane more heavily, and he’s lost a bit more weight. Arcturus looks gaunt and ill, and Sirius assumes that it’s only going to get worse.

More than that, he knows that his grandfather doesn’t want anyone to see him that way, not unless they’re family.

And maybe not even then, considering that he and Regulus have been the only ones his grandfather has welcomed into Black Manor.

“He received word that he’s been chosen as Head Boy, and he wanted to write to Lily, probably to ask if she’s going to be Head Girl,” Sirius replies. “He’s besotted.”

“And you’re not jealous?” Arcturus asks.

Sirius frowns. “Why would I be jealous? I’m not ready to settle down yet, so even if I’d found someone, I wouldn’t act on it. I certainly wouldn’t do anything until after the war is over. I have you and Reg, and my friends. James will be captain of the Quidditch team and Head Boy, and he’ll make his parents very proud, but I’d rather focus on what’s to come, and ending the war.”

“I never wanted you to lose your childhood,” Arcturus says solemnly.

Sirius frowns, but he really thinks about what his grandfather has said, and he finally replies. “I haven’t. I’ve rediscovered it.”

Arcturus closes his eyes, and Sirius realizes that his words have wounded him, even though he didn’t mean to do so. “It’s been good, Grandfather.”

“I would feel better about it if I knew you’d had more summers like the last one,” Arcturus replies. “You’ve worked very hard this summer. I’ve seen it.”

Sirius blows out a breath. “We need to finish this war sooner, rather than later. If I can be a part of that, I will. Too many people are dying.”

“You know that’s not your responsibility, right?” Arcturus asks. “You’re not the one doing the killing, and it’s not your job to stop it.”

Sirius looks at him. “It has to be someone’s job, though. If someone doesn’t stop Voldemort and his Death Eaters, they’ll just go on killing, and doing other horrific things.”

His grandfather reaches out and ruffles his hair. “I would say that I wished you were less of a Gryffindor, but I’m proud of the person you are, so I can’t. But I do need you to stay alive, Sirius.”

“I can’t promise that,” Sirius replies. “But I can promise to try my best.”

“That’s all any of us can ask,” Arcturus replies.

“You should take care of yourself, too, Grandfather,” Sirius replies. “I’d like you to stick around as well.”

Arcturus smiles warmly. “I’ll do my best as well.”

He and James go to visit his parents for the last two weeks of the summer, and Sirius appreciates the warm welcome they offer him.

But they gush over James, and him making Head Boy and Quidditch captain. James blushes at their praise, but he casts an anxious look at Sirius.

Sirius just gives a quick shake of his head and a small smile. He doesn’t mind James’ success, and he certainly doesn’t begrudge James any of it.

But then Mrs. Potter’s attention turns to him, and she pulls him into a tight hug. “How are you, Sirius? And how’s your grandfather?”

“We’re both doing well,” Sirius replies, although he knows that he’s fudging the truth a bit. “Thanks for having me.”

“Any time, of course,” Mr. Potter replies. “We wouldn’t have minded you moving in with us, but I’m glad that you have family you can count on now.”

Sirius nods. “Me, too.”

~~~~~

Regulus flinches as his mother shrieks at him. “That girl is trash!”

They’re in the study, his mother’s preferred place to dress down her children. Regulus has watched and listened to her do the same to Sirius time after time, and he’d felt grateful it wasn’t him, and maybe a little smug that he was the favorite.

That was before he got a letter from Violet that his mother saw, though.

“She’s not trash, Mother,” Regulus says. “She’s from a very good wizarding family.”

“Who invited trouble!” Walburga shouts. “Helping Muggles! By all rights, they should have joined the Death Eaters, or at least kept their noses out of it.”

Regulus is beginning to wonder how his brother stayed around as long as he did, and why he didn’t run away sooner. “My mind isn’t going to change, Mother, and if you persist in yelling at me, I’ll go stay with Grandfather. He approves of the match.”

Walburga sneers at that. “He’s getting weak in his old age. He hasn’t been seen in public in years.”

She’s not wrong, but Regulus maintains an impassive, neutral expression. “I think he’s quite hale and hearty, Mother. You’re angry because Grandfather has made it clear that Sirius is his heir, and he’s not going to change his mind. You’re also angry that you can’t control your children anymore, and that we can get away from you.”

He’s expecting the slap across the face, and he takes it stoically. “Slapping me won’t change anything.”

She raises her hand again, and Regulus hears his father say, “Walburga, that’s enough. You won’t hit the boy again.”

“You are such a disappointment,” Walburga hisses at him. “Just like your brother.”

“There are worse things to be,” Regulus replies, his chin tilted up, daring her to hit him again.

He can remember Sirius doing the same thing. He understands now.

Orion says, “Go to your room, Regulus.”

Regulus goes, knowing that he shouldn’t antagonize his parents. He certainly doesn’t plan on coming back to this house so long as he has any choice at all in the matter.

He calls for Kreacher as soon as he’s in his room. “I need you to take a message to Sirius.”

Kreacher sneers. “Master Sirius hates Kreacher.”

“Yeah, and an owl is going to take too long,” Regulus replies, remember what his grandfather had said about being firm. “So, you’re going to take him a letter, and then you’re going to take one to Grandfather.”

“Lord Black is scary,” Kreacher protests.

“Only if you don’t do what I say,” Regulus counters. He touches his cheek where his mother had slapped him, still feeling the heat of the blow.

“Kreacher brings Master Regulus something while he writes his letters,” Kreacher replies.

Regulus scribbles off a quick note to Sirius, telling him that his mother thoroughly disapproves of Violet because her family is too nice to Muggles. He doesn’t say anything about the slap, though, or being sent to his room. If he ever tells Sirius, he figures he’ll do it in person.

His letter to Arcturus is more formal, because he’s requesting sanctuary in his grandfather’s house. Permanently.

It’s something that Sirius could have done if he’d wanted to do so, and known that their grandfather would welcome him. But formally requesting sanctuary, if granted, means that Arcturus is admitting that their parents aren’t fit. That Regulus is better off under his roof.

Regulus is getting even with them in the best way he knows how, because this is going to get out, and his parents are going to be terribly embarrassed.

On second thought, Regulus grabs the letter he’d written to Sirius and adds a postscript.

I formally asked Grandfather for sanctuary. It will probably get out.

Kreacher pops into his bedroom with a cold pack and a snack. “I have something for Master Regulus’ face.”

“Thanks, Kreacher,” Regulus says. “I have the letters ready.”

“Master Regulus will call Kreacher?” he asks anxiously.

“I will,” Regulus promises. “Thank you.”

He just has to get through the rest of the summer with his parents. He only has a few weeks, and he specifically told his grandfather that he doesn’t need immediate sanctuary.

Regulus doesn’t need his grandfather riding to his rescue this summer; he just needs to never come back, and to make it clear to his parents that he’s never coming back.

Kreacher returns shortly with letters from both his brother and grandfather. Sirius’ note is short but demanding, wanting to know what their parents had done, because he knows they’d done something. Arcturus is more reassuring, letting Regulus know that he’ll take action when Regulus returns to school.

Unless you need me before then, his grandfather writes. If you do, send Kreacher, and I’ll come and get you.

Regulus doesn’t expect the rest of the summer to be anything other than miserable for the next few weeks, but his parents end up treating him with chilly courtesy. He wonders if his grandfather had written to them as well, but decides it doesn’t matter. He knows what needs to happen, and his parents have shown their true faces.

Regulus had gone home to try to connect with them, and with the person he had been for so long, and now he’s realizing that he’s outgrown his parents’ narrow worldview as well as his old self.

Turns out, he’s no longer that person, and he’s not comfortable pretending.

Regulus writes back to Sirius in more detail, and although he hesitates, he tells Sirius about their mom’s blow-up, her description of Violet as being trash, the slap, all of it. If anyone might show sympathy, it’s his brother.

He probably shouldn’t say anything, but—

He just wants someone to understand.

“I’m sorry, Kreacher,” Regulus calls. “But I need you to take this to my brother. He wanted an immediate reply. You don’t have to wait for a response, though.”

Kreacher grumbles, but does as asked.

What he doesn’t do is not wait for Sirius to respond, because Kreacher returns an hour later with a letter from Sirius.

“I told you not to wait for a reply,” Regulus says.

Kreacher glares at him. “Master Sirius is the heir. He told me to wait. I’m not your owl, Master Regulus!”

He pops away before Regulus can apologize again, and so he just goes to reading Sirius’ letter.

Brother, I’m sorry Mom shat on you and Violet. I’m glad you didn’t let her get away with it, though. Violet is brilliant. You probably don’t deserve her. That being said, though, you didn’t deserve what she said or did, so get that out of your head right now. If you need an escape, and you don’t want to go to Grandfather, send me a message through Kreacher, or by owl, and James and I will come up with something. The Potters will put you up no problem, because you’re my brother. No matter where I am, you’ll always have a place, because I’ll make one for you.

Love,

Sirius

Regulus blinks rapidly to clear away the tears that are threatening to fall.

He has his brother. He has his grandfather. That will have to be enough.

~~~~~

“What’s wrong?” James asks.

Sirius sighs. “My mother hit Regulus, and she called Violet trash because her sister had the temerity to interfere with the Death Eaters and prevent some Muggles from being tortured to death.”

There’s a pause, and James scrubs his hands over his face. “I know you said your parents were awful, and I believed you, but Regulus… He was the golden child.”

“Operative word, ‘was,’” Sirius replies. “He’s decided to hitch his star to an unsuitable woman, and he’s on the outs. My parents care nothing for legacy, only pureblood values, and shitting on Muggles. He’s asked our grandfather for sanctuary. Formal sanctuary.”

James whistles. “I thought you were ruthless, but that’s going to make the rounds quickly once your grandfather grants it.”

“He will, after Regulus returns to Hogwarts, because that’s what was requested,” Sirius replies. “Regulus insists that he’s fine, and will make it work until the end of the summer. I’m of a mind to go and get him out of there, but he insists he’ll stick it out.”

“You should let him,” James says. “He’s probably thinking of what you endured, Siri. He’s doing penance.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have to!” Sirius replies hotly. “I wanted him safe, Prongs! I did everything I could to make him safe!”

They’re in James’ room, and Sirius keeps his voice down, not wanting to disturb the Potters.

“Yes, you did, and maybe you paved the way to allow him to make the decisions that he has to make himself happy, and fuck with your parents’ expectations,” James replies.

Sirius shoves his hands through his hair. “I know. I know! He doesn’t deserve the rejection I faced, not when he’s done everything right.”

“You don’t deserve it either,” James replies. “You never did, my friend.”

Sirius buries his face in his hands. “I could have asked my grandfather for sanctuary before. I had no idea that he would have taken us, or me, but I could have, and that might have protected Reg.”

“Pads, don’t be a fucking idiot,” James replies. “Your brother found the strength to make the right choice. If we need to rescue him, we will, but know what you’re doing.”

“Regulus has asked me not to interfere and so I won’t,” Sirius replies. “I just hate that our mother hit him.”

“You should,” James replies. “You should hate that anyone hurt him, because he’s your brother, and your parents are absolute pricks, okay?”

Sirius knows that’s true. “Okay, yes. You’re right, and Regulus is a big boy. He knows I’ll come for him if he needs me, and that Grandfather would do the same.”

James claps him on the shoulder. “Relax, Pads. You survived your parents, and so will Regulus.”

Sirius knows that he’s right about that. Their parents are abusive arseholes, but they’re not going to do anything that will cause Regulus lasting harm. They know better than that.

“Come on, we can hex some dummies in the spare room,” James says. “You can blow off some steam that way, pretend they’re your parents.”

James had set up a practice area in one of the Potters’ spare bedrooms so he could work on defense even during inclement weather, and that’s where they go now. Sirius does find it cathartic to imagine his parents’ faces on those of the practice dummies as he casts hexes in rapid fire.

“Your lessons this summer really paid off,” James comments when they take a break. “You’re the next thing to a hit wizard.”

“Hardly,” Sirius replies. “I’d need a lot more training for that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a Slytherin who tries cursing you in the back,” James replies. “And you know that Lily will be here tomorrow.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Yes, James, you’ve mentioned that approximately twenty times at this point.”

“I just want to be sure you don’t mind,” James replies. “I know it’s a big change.”

Sirius levels a look at him. “The only change is that you’re no longer mooning over her, and are actually with her. I appreciate that fact. Just promise me that I can be your best man when you tie the knot.”

“We’re not there yet,” James protests.

Sirius snorts. “Come on. Tell me that you haven’t asked your parents for permission to buy her a promise ring.”

James flushes. “I can’t tell you that.”

Sirius grins at him triumphantly. “So, when are you going to give her the ring?”

James shakes his head. “I just want to get through the next week of her visiting, and see how that goes.”

“When are you going to meet her family?” Sirius asks idly.

James blows out a breath. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. She’s suggested meeting her parents in London for dinner the night before we’re returning to Hogwarts. But it would just be my parents, hers, and the two of us.”

“Are you asking permission to ditch me?” Sirius asks with a smirk. “Because it’s fine, Prongs. I’m capable of being on my own for the evening, or maybe I’ll ask Reg to sneak out and meet me. In fact, that might be kind of nice, now that I think about it.”

James gives him a relieved look. “Thanks, Pads.”

“Think nothing of it,” Sirius insists. “I just expect you to be a good wingman when I find that special someone.”

James sits up from his sprawl. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t dated much over the last couple of years.”

“Ah, that,” Sirius says slowly. He’s a little surprised that it had taken James this long to notice. Remus doesn’t date much, even though the goblin charm has rendered him safe, but he would have to be with someone he trusted. Peter tends to run around after girls who are mostly too good for him.

But Sirius could have his pick of girls, and he knows that.

“Do you know how attractive marrying the heir of the House of Black is to some?” Sirius asks.

James rolls his eyes. “Yes, Pads, I do have some idea.”

“I can’t date casually,” Sirius replies. “Not unless the other party is also interested in a casual relationship. And how many people would say they weren’t interested in something long-term just to entrap me?”

“And no one has caught your eye for a long-term commitment?” James queries.

Sirius smiles. “Not like Lily caught yours, and it would take someone like that for me to enter into a committed relationship while there’s still a war on.”

James frowns. “Do you think I’m being foolish?”

“They say love makes fools of men,” Sirius says. “But no, I don’t. You might as well live while you can, Prongs. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you,” James counters.

Sirius shrugs. “I am happy. I have my grandfather, and my brother, which is more than what I had a few years ago. I have you and the other Marauders. I can’t complain.”

He means that, too, and he greets Lily warmly when she turns up the following day, looking a little shy. He remembers the first time James had invited him to say, and how nervous he’d been. Based on how James talked about his parents, he’d expected them to be nicer than his own, but he still had been surprised at just how welcoming they had been.

James’ parents are just as welcoming to Lily, Mrs. Potter enfolding her in a hug and saying how glad they are to have her there. Mr. Potter shakes her hand and says that she’s as pretty as James had said.

Lily gives James a look that Sirius easily reads, and James immediately protests, “I also talked about how smart you are!”

“Brightest witch in Hogwarts,” Mr. Potter says. “He’s mentioned that often.”

Lily’s dimples flash. “That’s more like it.”

“Come in, and I’ll show you where you’re saying, my dear,” Mrs. Potter says. “James, you’ll take her trunk.”

“Of course,” James says, jumping to it.

Mr. Potter rests a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Are you all right, son? James said you had an upsetting letter from your brother.”

“Regulus had an unpleasant interaction with our mother,” Sirius replies. “So, he’s requesting formal sanctuary with our grandfather.”

Mr. Potter frowns. “Is there a reason you didn’t do the same? Not that we ever mind having you here, of course.”

Sirius smiles. “I know that, Mr. Potter. But by the time I knew that my grandfather would welcome me, I no longer needed the option. This allows Regulus to have the same thing I found.”

He doesn’t say that it also allows Regulus to take a measure of revenge on their parents, since it will get around fairly quickly.

Mr. Potter squeezes his shoulder. “Good. I’m glad your grandfather has been such a support to you and your brother. There’s nothing so important as family, but there’s also no one who can hurt you as badly.”

“That’s the truth,” Sirius agrees.

He finds James and Lily in the bedroom that Mrs. Potter had made ready for her with fresh flowers on the small vanity table, and a cheerful quilt on the bed. James and Lily are sitting on the bed next to each other, the door left decorously open.

“Did Mrs. Potter insist that you two leave the door open?” Sirius teases.

James glares at him. “Pads!”

Sirius shrugs unrepentantly. “Just keeping you two honest.”

“We’re quite capable of looking after ourselves, and I wouldn’t disrespect James’ parents that way,” Lily says pertly, but then her expression softens. “But you’re welcome to join us.”

Sirius sprawls out on the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The dynamic is different with Lily around, the conversation a little less personal, more general. Sirius notices that Lily stays away from anything regarding her family. Reading between the lines, Sirius thinks that her family probably doesn’t have much money. She references her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend, but only as a brief mention.

“What about you, Sirius?” Lily asks. “How is your family?”

Sirius hesitates. “My grandfather is doing well enough. Regulus is having some trouble with our parents, but nothing Grandfather can’t fix.”

“The same kind of trouble that you had with them?” Lily asks with a sympathetic grimace. “James didn’t tell me anything, but it’s kind of an open secret that you don’t like to go home.”

Sirius shrugs. “It’s no secret. And yes, my mother has apparently decided that Violet Miller isn’t a suitable match.”

Lily frowns. “Why? She’s a pureblood, and her family is the same, right?”

“They are,” Sirius replies. “And her sister and her husband protected their Muggle neighbors from Death Eaters.”

Lily gives him a fierce smile. “Good for them.”

“They died, along with their baby,” Sirius says flatly. “Not that I disagree with the sentiment.”

Lily blanches, and James glares at him. “Padfoot!”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says immediately. “But it’s true.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s true,” Lily says stoutly. “No matter how distasteful the truth might be. And that’s awful for Violet.”

Sirius grimaces. “I think it was. From what I gather, her parents are going into hiding.”

“Those damn Death Eaters,” Lily says, her eyes kindling with a fiery rage. “As soon as I get the chance, I’m going after them myself.”

“Has the Headmaster spoken to you about joining the Order?” James asks.

Lily nods. “I wasn’t sure until recently, but now I know I will.”

“I am, too,” James asserts. “We’ve been training this summer

Sirius sighs. “Well, I’m certainly not going to allow your dumb arse to join alone. We should get a flat when we leave Hogwarts. We can invite Remus to join us.”

James brightens. “That’s an excellent idea, Pads!”

“Why do you call him Pads?” Lily asks, looking between the two of them. “I’ve noticed you all have odd nicknames for each other.”

Sirius gives James a look, and his friend shrugs. Sirius thinks about the promise ring, and he shifts to his animagus form. Lily is Muggle-born, so he isn’t surprised when she just seems delighted. “Oh, look at that! I’ve seen Professor McGonagall transform into a cat, but I haven’t met many animagi.”

Sirius transforms back. “Sure, you have. You know at least three—four, if you count McGonagall.”

Lily turns to stare at James. “When were you going to tell me? And can I see?”

“I was going to tell you once I knew I could tell you about the rest of it, and only when we’re outdoors. My form isn’t as inside-friendly as Sirius’.” James’ expression is clearly sheepish. “And not all of it is my story to tell.”

Lily’s eyes narrow. “Is this about Remus being a werewolf?”

Sirius knows he’s as stunned as James looks. “How did you know that?” Sirius demands.

Lily rolls her eyes. “Please, as Mr. Potter said, I’m the brightest witch in our class. I noticed that Remus looked ill, and then I started to notice when he looked ill. And I certainly noticed when he stopped looking ill around the same time. Then I noticed the jewelry he hadn’t been wearing before he went to visit Sirius and his grandfather, and I did my research.”

“Brightest witch of the age,” James mutters. “How many others do you think noticed?”

“A few,” Lily replies. “Mostly in Gryffindor, and no one is going to mention it. Remus is well liked in the House. Outside of it, Severus has noticed, certainly, but if Remus is safe, there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Why was he so interested in us?” Sirius asks. “I mean, I know we have a mutual hatred for each other, but he was weirdly fixated on us.”

Lily sighs. “Not weirdly. Severus and I were friends before Hogwarts. He knew James liked me.”

“So he’s probably going to be even more insufferable than usual?” James asks snidely.

Lily elbows him. “He’s too busy being a Death Eater. If he approaches me, it will probably be to get me to join him.”

“You’re Muggle-born,” James objects.

Lily snorts. “The Death Eaters are hypocrites. They don’t care about blood status if you can help them. Mark my words, we’ll all be approached this next year.”

Sirius believes her, and he thinks she’s probably right.

After all, she’s the brightest witch of their age.

~~~~~

Regulus has spent weeks in his parents’ house, working out a routine. Kreacher brings him his breakfast and lunch, and then he has dinner with his parents. His father glares his mother into submission, and Regulus wouldn’t be surprised to find out that his grandfather sent a letter to his son, warning about what might happen if Regulus came to harm under their roof.

He’s a little surprised when Kreacher pops into his room and says, “Master Sirius has a message for Master Regulus, and he asked Kreacher to wait for a reply.”

Regulus frowns. They’re due to return to Hogwarts in a few days, so there’s no reason to make contact. And then he reads the letter.

Dear brother,

I’m going to be a bit at loose ends the night before we return to school, and I imagine you want to get out of the house for a bit. Meet me for dinner in London. We’ll have fun.

Sirius

Regulus brightens at that. An evening not spent under the same roof as his parents, even if it’s just the day before they’re due to return to Hogwarts, sounds perfect. He’s never gone out with Sirius before, and doing so seems like it would be an adventure. It’s not as though either of them have been given such an opportunity before.

“Tell Sirius I’m happy to go with him,” Regulus replies. “But I can’t rely on our parents to deliver me anywhere.”

Kreacher tugs at his ears. “I tell Master Sirius.”

Regulus’ heart feels a little lighter. Even if spending time with him has been brought about only because James had something better to do, at least Sirius had asked to spend time with him, rather than spend time alone. Not that long ago, Regulus believes that Sirius would have preferred solitude.

There are times when Regulus wonders just how Sirius had done it, survived being cut off from his family. Regulus has felt the loss of his parents acutely over the course of the summer, and yet he knows that he still has his brother and grandfather. Sirius hadn’t.

Kreacher pops back in, and says, “Master Sirius says to be outside at 6, and he will arrange everything.”

Regulus is eagerly anticipating the evening with Sirius, and Kreacher causes a distraction so he can slip out of the front door.

Sirius is waiting for him, wearing smart trousers and a button down shirt, but no robes. Regulus frowns. “Should I not wear this?”

“We’re going to a Muggle restaurant, so you can ditch the wizarding robes,” Sirius replies.

Regulus grimaces. “I don’t want to go back inside. Kreacher caused a distraction so I could leave without them knowing.”

Sirius snorts. “No one is going to see them if you just leave them on the front steps, not with how Mother warded the place.”

Regulus realizes that Sirius is right, so he just takes off his robes and leaves them on the front steps. “Why a Muggle restaurant?” he asks.

“We’re in Muggle London, brother,” Sirius replies, slinging an arm over Regulus’ shoulders. “There are Muggle restaurants a short tube ride away. If we tried to go to Diagon Alley, it would take too long. Don’t worry about it.”

Regulus is uncomfortable in the Muggle world. “Do you have money?”

“Of course,” Sirius replies. “Unlike you, I know how to navigate the Muggle world, and it wouldn’t hurt you to learn, you know.”

“Why would I need to?” Regulus asks.

“Do you think the Death Eaters could find you if you needed to run?” Sirius asks. “They’re idiots, every last one of them. Besides, the food is really good. You’ll see.”

Sirius leads him to a nearby tube stop, and down the stairs. “How do you know how to do this?”

“You don’t think I snuck out a few times when I was still living with our parents?” Sirius asks. “Trial and error, Reg. A lot of trials, and a lot of errors.”

The restaurant is a couple of stops away, and Regulus half-expects to run into trouble when Sirius sees the person at the front of the restaurant. “I have a reservation for two,” Sirius says confidently. “Sirius Black?”

Regulus blinks, not really recognizing his brother in that moment. Sirius is smooth, and suddenly appears to be older than he is.

The hostess smiles at the both of them. “Welcome. Please follow me.”

She leads them to a small table in a corner, hands each of them a menu, and then says, “Your server will be with you shortly.”

Regulus glances at the menu and frowns. “Italian?”

“I thought it would be a nice change of pace,” Sirius replies. “It’s not like we have much pasta at Hogwarts.”

“No, I guess not,” Regulus says. “I just—don’t know what to get.”

Sirius plucks the menu out of his hands. “Don’t worry about it.”

Their server appears with two glasses of water and a smile. “I’m Mary, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. What can I get you?”

“My brother is going to have the spaghetti and meatballs, and I’m going with the penne alla vodka,” Sirius replies. “With chicken.”

Mary smiles. “Of course. I’ll get that order put in for you two.”

“I’m not a child,” Regulus hisses when she leaves.

“I know you’re not, but I’ve actually been here before,” Sirius replies. “And their meatballs are great.”

Regulus takes a sip of water. “Where did you get the money?”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Dad keeps Muggle money in a safe in the study. I took it from him.”

Regulus feels as though his entire world is being rearranged. “Why would he have Muggle money?”

“Because sometimes even the most anti-Muggle wizards need to navigate this world,” Sirius replies. “I doubt our mother knows. Dad is more pragmatic. Pretty sure he knew what I was doing, too.”

Regulus takes another gulp of water. “But Dad never said anything to you?”

“Why do you think he keeps Muggle money around?” Sirius asks.

To get away, Regulus thinks. Somewhere Mother would never look for him.

“Don’t worry about it, Reg,” Sirius adds. “But I like to keep both Muggle and wizarding money on hand just to be safe.”

“So you can take your brother out to dinner?” Regulus asks archly.

“You needed to get out of that house,” Sirius replies. “And be reminded that you have family. I know how that is, and once we’re back at Hogwarts, we’ll have to pretend to ignore each other again. So, yes, I have Muggle money so I can take you out to dinner.”

Regulus smiles. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius replies. “Let’s just focus on having a fun evening.”

The evening is a lot more fun than Regulus anticipates. The food is good, the meatballs just as tasty as Sirius promised. After dinner, they wander through Muggle London. Regulus is uncomfortable at first, but then he realizes that no one is looking at them in their smart clothes, and no one marks their passing.

They wander into a record store and browse through the selections, Sirius waxing poetic about his favorite bands. Regulus had known Sirius favored Muggle music, but hadn’t realized he knew so much about it.

There’s a small convenience store that they stop in, and Sirius buys him Muggle candy. “It’s different from wizard candy,” Sirius says. “But it’s still pretty good.”

Regulus has a bit of a sweet tooth, so he accepts the offer of a Mars Bar, tucking it into his pocket for later. They stop by a park, where there are some Muggle kids hanging around smoking.

“You ever tried a Muggle cigarette?” Sirius asks.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, and I don’t really want to start now.”

Sirius grins at him. “All right, we won’t push it tonight. I know I’ve already shoved you out of your comfort zone.”

They head back to Grimmauld Place after that, and Sirius says, “Do you need me to provide a distraction? Because I can.”

Regulus shakes his head. “I’m going back to Hogwarts tomorrow. What are they going to do to me? Anything more than a slap will draw Grandfather’s ire.”

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll probably see you on the train tomorrow.”

“You probably will,” Regulus replies.

He grabs his robe and puts it on, and then slips inside. He’s hoping to avoid his parents altogether, but if he can’t, he can at least pretend that he hadn’t been in Muggle London.

Of course, if he tries to pretend that he’d been in Diagon Alley, there’s a good chance that someone who knows his parents will have been there this close to the train leaving, and would know that he hadn’t been there.

His father appears in the doorway and looks him up and down. “Where have you been?”

“I went out with Sirius,” Regulus replies, trying not to give anything away.

Some complicated emotion flits over his father’s face. “How is your brother?”

Regulus cocks his head. “Did you know that Sirius is really good at navigating the Muggle world, and that there’s a place close by that has really good meatballs?”

“Who do you think told him about the meatballs?” his father asks. He jerks his head. “Go up to your room.”

It’s a different side of his father than what he normally sees, but he’s beginning to think that he might not know his father at all.

~~~~~

Sirius takes a taxi to the Leaky Cauldron, and orders a butter beer since James and the others aren’t there yet.

He sips his drink and thinks about his time with his brother, even though it had been brief. He hopes that Regulus got in okay, and didn’t have any problems from their parents.

He’s halfway through his drink when James and Lily enter hand-in-hand, followed by the Potters.

James waves at him. “Hey, Pads. Did you have a good night with your brother?”

“Yeah, it was fun,” Sirius replies. “I took him out to dinner in Muggle London, freaked him out a little bit, I think.”

Lily’s eyes widen. “You took Regulus out to Muggle London?”

“It’s good to know how to navigate the Muggle world,” Sirius replies. “It’s a place Death Eaters wouldn’t look.”

James frowns. “Didn’t you tell me once that you first went out to Muggle London because you stole money from your father?”

“I borrowed it,” Sirius protests. “Pretty sure I was due an allowance at least, and our dad left the safe open for me.”

James blinks. “Wait, your father keeps Muggle money around?”

“Where else is he going to go in order to get away from our mother without her knowing about it?” Sirius asks with a grin. “We never went together, but I knew. And he knew that I went out.”

Mr. Potter gives him a look. “Your family dynamics are very complicated, my boy.”

“We’re a family with secrets, Mr. Potter,” Sirius replies, and then tries to change the subject. “But how did your dinner go?”

“Good, I think,” Lily says. “My parents were very grateful that we met them in a more comfortable place for them. James was very charming.”

Sirius smirks. “It is a day ending in y. You just didn’t notice for six years.”

Lily nudges James with her elbow. “Don’t listen to him. You became a lot more charming last year when you started taking things seriously.”

“And now he’s going to be Head Boy,” Mrs. Potter says, beaming. “We’re very proud of both of you, and we couldn’t have had a better time with your parents tonight, Lily.”

Sirius somehow doubts that, but the Potters are masters of politeness, and they wouldn’t say anything else around Lily.

He resolves to ask Sirius about how things had really gone later.

They take the floo from the Leaky Cauldron to the Potters’ house, and the Potters quickly excuse themselves to go to bed. “I think I’m going to head that way myself,” Lily says. “Sorry, James, but I’m tired.”

“No problem,” James replies, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Sleep well.” He pulls her in for a slightly more lingering kiss.

“You, too,” Lily replies.

He and James retreat to his room, and Sirius asks, “How did things really go tonight?”

“Lily’s parents are really nice, but completely confused about the wizarding world, and what Lily is doing in it,” James replies. “And I’m pretty sure that her sister is incredibly jealous, and that her parents are doing everything in their power not to exacerbate the issue.”

“So, it was awkward,” Sirius says.

“What does one say to their future in-laws when you’re both from completely different worlds?” James counters. “It was fine. I want to hear more about your evening with Reg.”

Sirius notes that James is using his own nickname for his brother. “What’s there to tell? He snuck out of the house, I took him out to eat and to a record store and a corner shop where I bought him Muggle candy—which I very much hope he hides from our mother—and then delivered him back home.”

James gives him a look. “Pads, I thought we shared everything.”

“As your dad said, our family dynamics are complicated,” Sirius replies defensively. “My father was never exactly present, you know? He was around, but my mother was the one who ruled the roost. He never opposed her. He never protected me, but there were times when he’d leave his safe open, and I would find Muggle money in there, and I’d go out and ride the tube, once I figured out how it worked. Or I’d go to the cinema, or out to eat if Mother sent me to bed without dinner. He had to know; he had to have missed the money I took, but he never said anything.”

James stares at him. “Why wouldn’t they just get a divorce?”

“And face the scandal?” Sirius asks. “They won’t divorce for the same reason my mother didn’t kill me when I sorted into Gryffindor, and started showing an interest in Muggles. It would cause an uproar. It’s the same reason I allowed Regulus to return home tonight rather than dragging him back here. He knows and I know that Mother won’t do anything worse than slapping him.

James drags his hands over his face. “You do know how fucked up that is, don’t you?”

“Which is why I stopped going home, and is why Reg formally asked for sanctuary,” Sirius replies. “With me, they could write it off as a rebellious teenager. With Reg, he’s hit them where it hurts. Formal requests for sanctuary go through the Ministry, so even if it doesn’t make the papers, everyone is going to know.”

James gives him a look. “That sucks.”

“So it does,” Sirius says lightly. “But it’s also the hand we were both dealt, and Regulus has handled it better than I did.”

“What are you going to do?” James asks.

“I’m going back to school, I’m going to do well on my NEWTs and make my grandfather proud, and then we’re going to graduate and fight the forces of darkness,” Sirius replies. “That’s it. Maybe we’ll take some time to plan your wedding.”

James glares. “Shut up.”

“You two are cute as a pair of lovebirds,” Sirius replies. “How can I resist?”

“Go to bed, Pads,” James says. “You clearly need your head checked.”

Sirius smirks. “We’ll see.”

The Potters deliver them to the train station about half an hour before they’re due to depart. They go through the portal and say their goodbyes, finding a compartment and stashing their trunks. It’s a repeat of the prior year, because Peter and Remus arrive just before the train is due to leave, and Remus looks hale and hearty, whereas Peter is a bit agitated about the near-daily reports of Death Eater activities in the Daily Wizard.

Next year, at this time, they’ll be settled into their post-graduate lives. “What are you going to do after school, Lily?” Remus asks, as though reading Sirius’ mind.

Lily shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’ll probably get a job somewhere, or maybe seek a mastery. What about you?”

Remus’ expression is wondering. “I have an offer for an apprenticeship for a position as a ward maker, and that’s all thanks to your grandfather, Pads. I wouldn’t have been able to take it if he hadn’t helped me.”

“I’m glad, Moony,” Sirius replies. “You deserve it.”

“What about you?” Remus asks.

“I think I might take a gap year,” Sirius replies lightly. “See what happens.”

He doesn’t say that he can afford not to work, and to simply live a life of luxury. Not that he plans on doing nothing.

“Same here,” James adds. “We should get a flat together. Moony, are you going to be in London?”

“That’s the plan,” Remus admits.

“We should get one together,” Sirius suggests. “We can share expenses that way. Chores, too. What about you, Peter?”

Peter shakes his head. “I’m hoping to get a Ministry job, but I’ll probably keep living with my parents to save money.”

He looks a bit shifty, but that’s normal for Peter, so Sirius doesn’t think anything of it.

Sirius just has to get through the next year, get through his NEWTs, and then they’ll move on to the next thing.

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