#regulus is frozen in fear

[lulublack90]

Prompt 3 - Tip

@jegulus-microfic June 3, Word count 456

Previous part First part

The Manticore stared straight at him. Regulus felt his joints lock. He was frozen in fear. 

“Oh, he’s hurt, look,” Pandora said in her sweet voice and walked confidently towards the dangerous creature. 

“Pandora!” Regulus’s voice squeaked in his throat as he watched in horror as Pandora put a hand on the giant lion's foot of the Manticore.

The beast growled at her and waved its scorpion tail menacingly. Regulus’s eyes widened as the tail swooped down at Pandora. 

“Repulso!” he shouted, his fears suddenly gone, replaced with pure adrenaline. The Manticore did not appreciate his reaction. It leapt to its feet, knocking Pandora sideways. It raised its human-faced head high into the air and let out a roar that no human would ever be able to make, and ran at Regulus. 

He dodged the first lunge. The second one of the tip of the Manticore’s huge claws sliced through the back of his trousers and into his leg. He felt the hot blood trickle down his leg as he righted himself and took off towards Pandora, sending as many spells as he could cast over his shoulder. None were any good against the Manticore’s impenetrable skin. 

It stalked towards them as Regulus tried to get Pandora to her feet. He shuddered when the Manticore began to hum softly. If he remembered correctly, they did that as they devoured their prey. 

He turned to stare the creature in the eye, and it loomed above him. Pandora rushed around him and held her hands up high above her head. 

“Stop!” She ordered in a voice more commanding than he’d ever heard her speak with. The Manticore immediately calmed down and flopped down onto its belly. “Good boy, now give me your paw.”  

Regulus was absolutely useless as he watched the deadly creature carefully place its mighty paw in Pandora’s tiny grasp. She flipped it over, and there was an enormous thorn buried deep in the pad. “Oh, this must have been hurting you so badly,” she cooed as she tapped the pad with her wand and then pulled the torn. 

It took a few good pulls, but eventually it came free. Pandora put it aside and concentrated on healing the gaping wound on the Manticore’s paw. “Okay, you’re all done,” Pandora said, realising his paw. The Manticore gingerly tested its weight on the previously injured foot and, finding it no longer hurt, turned around and walked away into the forest without a second glance at them. 

Pandora helped him to his feet and picked up the thorn, putting it in her pocket and pushing down her robes. “Come on, we have more to do,” she said before transforming into her unicorn and heading deeper into the trees. 

Next part

[anonymousqualities]

Cat animagus Reg 1000% sleeps in the face plant position and gives james everyone the occasional heart attack.

[colouredbyd]

Broken Vases

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

Summary: When a vase slips from your hands, it’s not just glass that shatters — it’s years of fear, buried under a childhood that taught mistakes meant pain. Remus and Regulus are left trying to show you that love is gentle.

Warnings: Mentions of abusive childhood, abuse, hitting, scarring, broken vases, graphic mention of blood, mention of injuries, childhood truama, victim blaming, manipulative parents, overall graphic and has very intense mentions of an abusive childhood. read with caution!!!

Word count: 4.0k

Authors note: moonwater is my new fav ship idc what anyone says.

masterlist

You loved Remus and Regulus before you even understood what love was meant to feel like. It crept up on you slow and careful, the way sunlight softens a frozen field. Regulus and Remus held pieces of you long before you realized you had given them away. You trusted them because something in you recognized something in them — a bruised sort of knowing, a gentleness that came not from a life of safety but from surviving things no one should ever have to survive.

Regulus understood in a way that frightened you sometimes. His childhood had been lined with gold and knives, beautiful from a distance and lethal up close. Love in his house was something to be earned with obedience and silence, something sharp-edged and glittering that left more wounds than comfort. The Black name carried weight, and it had pressed down on his small shoulders until he learned to carry it without ever showing the cracks. He had clawed his way free of it, but the scars still clung to him, quiet and furious just beneath his skin.

Remus was softer where Regulus was sharp, but the softness had been carved out of him by loss, not given freely. He had known hunger and loneliness, fear and shame, but somewhere in the hollow spaces of his life there had been hands that cradled rather than struck. His mother’s touch, a father’s murmured apologies — flawed, yes, but real, and for all the ways the world had been cruel to him, he had tasted love enough to know it was supposed to be kind.

You had not. You had been born to a house where love was something shouted or withheld, where silence was a punishment and affection was a prize dangled just out of reach.

You did not come from grand halls or ancient bloodlines like Regulus, nor from hidden cottages and worn sweaters like Remus. All you had known was that whatever you received came with conditions, and you learned early that need was dangerous, that wanting too much could be used against you.

But you did not know it was wrong. Not really. Not the way they knew.

You had built a life out of survival, brick by brick, teaching yourself that pain was normal and loneliness was inevitable. You thought everyone grew up like you did. You thought every home was a battlefield stitched together with brittle apologies. You thought every child learned to walk quietly, to measure the weight of footsteps, to make themselves small and silent when anger crept through the walls.

It was not cruelty that kept you from seeing it. It was simply what you had always known.

There were things you said that should have been warning signs, sirens screaming into the hush between you, but you spoke them so lightly, so carelessly, that it broke something inside them every time.

You would laugh, thinking you were sharing something small and harmless, and you would not understand why Remus’s smile would falter or why Regulus’s hands would clench into fists small enough to leave half-moon scars on his palms.

You did not know. But they did. And they loved you too much to let you stay in the dark forever.

It slipped out in the way you laughed, head tipped back against the couch cushions, utterly unguarded, when you said, "Yeah, when we used to get locked outside, Mum said it built character." The words fluttered into the air so casually, so lightly, as if they weighed nothing at all.

Regulus stiffened where he sat beside you, the book he had been lazily flipping through falling forgotten into his lap. The soft thud of it hitting the cushion barely registered over the way the room seemed to tilt, the way the light seemed to dim.

Across from you, Remus's hand froze midair, the steaming mug he had been about to offer you tipping precariously in his fingers, a slow spiral of tea unwinding into the air.

But you only smiled, unaware, bright and easy, as if the memory was nothing more than a harmless anecdote.

As if it were a badge of survival you didn’t even realize you were wearing, the blood beneath it invisible to your own eyes. As if it wasn’t a wound at all, but a joke.

It kept happening, slipping from your lips like water through cupped hands, so small at first that they almost managed to convince themselves it was nothing. Almost.

"Dad said crying was for cowards, so he made us stay out in the snow till he eventually got bored and let us in." you said once, almost laughing, as if it were a funny little story instead of something that hollowed out Remus’s chest until he could hardly breathe. His knuckles went white around the spine of his book, holding it like an anchor, like if he could just grip hard enough the whole world wouldn’t split apart.

Another time you shrugged and said, "One time I forgot to say ‘good morning’ and had to sleep in the garage. It was funny, actually. I made friends with a spider," and Regulus, who had suffered the cold precision of a pureblood upbringing, felt his throat close like he was swallowing broken glass, sharp and merciless.

You didn’t notice. You only grinned, eyes bright, as though loneliness and punishment were things that built fairy tales instead of scars.

You laughed, light and unconcerned, when you said, "Everyone gets hit every few days. It's not a big deal," and missed the way Remus’s mouth tightened into a thin, colorless line, missed the way Regulus reached for you without thinking, fingers ghosting your sleeve like he could shield you from memories that had already happened.

Every word you dropped was another stone sinking into the river of you, another crack spidering through the foundation of what they thought they knew.

Another shard they had to pretend not to see, because you didn’t see it. You didn’t know. You had never known anything else. You had been too busy surviving. You had always been too busy surviving.

And then it all cracked open.

It started so stupidly, with Quidditch and pride.

You were stretched out lazily on the couch, bare feet tucked comfortably under you, a chipped mug cradled between your hands as you took slow sips from it. The faint scent of tea lingered in the air, mixing with the soft warmth of the evening.

Regulus and Remus were on opposite sides of the room, their voices rising and falling in playful debate, each word sparking the kind of heated exchange only they could have. You listened with half attention, smiling softly as their banter filled the space around you, a rhythm that felt almost like home.

The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving behind the coolness of the night, but the warmth inside the house was a sharp contrast. The only light was the golden spill of the lamps, casting shadows on the walls that seemed to pulse with life. The house, the three of you, the rhythm of familiar voices, was like a second skin—protective, comforting, real. This was home.

"I am telling you," Regulus said, tossing a Quidditch paper onto the table with a soft thud, "if the Harpies had just switched Seekers at the start of the season, they would have wiped the floor with the Cannons."

"You cannot just swap out a Seeker," Remus said, half-laughing, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. "It is not a chess piece, Reg."

Regulus gave a soft, scoffing noise, a glint of something teasing in his grey eyes. "You Gryffindors are all sentiment. Sometimes you have to cut your losses."

"And sometimes loyalty wins games, not betrayal," Remus shot back, rolling his eyes and pushing off from the doorframe. He crossed the room in two easy strides, standing toe-to-toe with Regulus now, their words heating up, not cruel, just stupid and bright with old affection.

You smiled to yourself, watching them with a kind of fondness that warmed your bones. You loved them like this, alive and careless, sparking off one another like dry tinder. It was the kind of playfulness that had become second nature between the two of them, something you'd witnessed a thousand times and always adored. A safe, familiar rhythm of back-and-forth that filled the space between them, the unspoken bond of shared history and love.

You didn’t even register the way your heart started to beat harder, the way your muscles tensed, the way old instincts uncoiled themselves slowly from where they slept inside you.

"You are insufferable," Regulus said, jabbing a finger lightly at Remus’s chest, the action teasing but laced with warmth.

"And you are infuriating," Remus answered, swatting at his hand with a laugh that was more tired than amused, the spark between them alive but the edges worn down from time.

You hummed softly to yourself, feeling the weight of the quiet contentment that had settled around you. It was easy to feel at ease when the world was just these moments, when the only thing that mattered was the teasing back and forth of the two people you loved the most.

Then it happened.

You weren’t sure how, exactly. It was like a spark that ignited the room, and suddenly everything felt sharper, colder. You had been so used to this—Regulus’s dry humor, Remus’s playful frustration. It had always been just noise, a part of the air you breathed. But this time, it was different. There was a weight behind it now, something you couldn’t ignore.

It was Remus, laughing just a little too loud at Regulus’s remark, his voice cutting through the air with that familiar edge of mockery. "Sometimes you have to let go of the idea of being right," he said with a grin, eyes dancing with mischief.

But there was a flicker in Regulus’s eyes, something hard beneath the surface, and suddenly the tension between them seemed to snap tighter.

"Maybe you should stop assuming you know everything," Regulus bit out, his voice low but cutting, something raw edging into the words.

It was sharp. Too sharp. And the way Regulus’s eyes flashed made it feel like the laughter had been sucked out of the room.

Remus’s smile faltered, his hand falling away from his chest, his posture shifting as if he was sensing something in the air that had shifted.

"I’m not assuming," Remus replied, voice quieter now, just a touch of strain in the edges. "I’m just saying, not everything is as simple as you make it out to be."

Your breath caught, your chest tightening, the conversation somehow too close, too sharp for comfort. Your fingers curled slightly into the cushion beneath you, the urge to interrupt rising up from some deep place inside of you. But you didn’t. You stayed silent, watching, feeling the invisible line stretching tighter and tighter between them.

"You always have an answer, don’t you?" Regulus’s words were laced with something harder now, something that flickered just beneath the surface of their usual dynamic. "Maybe not everything is meant to be solved. Maybe some things are just the way they are."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was nothing but the pulse of the tension, heavy and thick, wrapping around you.

Regulus stepped closer, his movements sharp, pointing his finger at Remus with a precision that was meant to be theatrical, to emphasize his argument. The action was calculated, meant to be playful, to incite a laugh, to turn the moment into another shared joke between them.

But then Remus, always ready to match Regulus’s energy, raised his hand in a gesture of exaggerated defense, an act that was supposed to keep the air light, to stop the rising tension before it could break through.

You couldn’t breathe. The warmth that had once wrapped itself so securely around your chest suddenly felt suffocating, a weight pressing down, trapping you in a moment that had shifted so subtly, but so violently, that you couldn’t reconcile the warmth of the room with the chill crawling down your spine.

It was a blur then. You stumbled backward, your feet suddenly unsteady as your heart pounded too quickly in your chest, the world spinning just slightly too fast. Your hip slammed into the side table, the impact jarring, but you barely registered the pain.

The only thing you could focus on was the vase—the one Remus had given you for your birthday, the one that Regulus had looked at and said reminded him of some ancient art piece he saw in a muggle movie that Sirius used to make him watch.

The vase wobbled once, twice, each movement of the fragile porcelain making the world feel slower, as though everything had fallen into a brief moment of suspension. You could see the way it teetered at the edge of the table, teetered at the edge of disaster.

The world seemed to stretch, just for a heartbeat, and in that stretch, you could almost believe you could catch it, could stop it from falling. But it did.

The sound it made when it shattered was deafening, louder than anything you had ever heard before. It rang in your ears, a crash that felt like gunfire, sharp and cutting, as though the noise itself had torn through the fabric of the room.

Time seemed to hold its breath, the shattered pieces of the vase scattered across the floor like broken dreams, the wildflowers that it had once held now lost in the jagged shards.

Your hands flew to the pieces, trembling and frantic, moving in a blur of desperation.

The shards of the broken vase littered the floor, their sharp edges gleaming menacingly in the dim light. You tried to piece them together, each movement a frantic attempt to make it whole again, to make the world stop spinning, to put everything back into its perfect place before the inevitable consequence arrived.

You couldn’t let it stay broken, not like this. You couldn’t let it be your fault, couldn’t bear the thought of their anger, their disappointment, the crushing weight of whatever punishment you were certain would follow.

"I will fix it," you gasped, the words spilling out in a high, thin tremor, your voice cracking under the strain of the panic rising in your chest. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear. Please, please don’t be mad, I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it. Just give me a second, i'll fix it. I promise,"

You didn’t know who you were pleading with—Regulus, Remus, yourself—but you couldn’t stop.

Your hands shook as you gathered the jagged pieces of ceramic, your fingers too clumsy, too frantic, trying to make sense of the broken fragments scattered around you. The panic rushed through your veins like fire, sharp and unforgiving, and all you could think was that you had to fix this.

You had to make the brokenness disappear. You had to undo the mess you had made before they could get angry, before the shouting escalated, before it turned into something worse.

Your hand closed around a jagged edge, the sharp ceramic biting into your skin, the sting of it so sudden and intense that you flinched. A large line of blood bloomed across your palm, the red quickly darkening, but you hardly felt it.

The pain of the cut was nothing compared to the chaos spiraling in your mind, the frantic need to make everything right. You didn’t even register the blood at first, didn’t stop to assess the damage. It didn’t matter. You didn't even notice how the pieces of the once white and blue vase turned a deep crimson red.

Nothing mattered but the pieces of the vase in front of you, scattered like your thoughts, like everything you had ever been told to fix or endure or hold together.

"I’ll fix it," you whispered again, this time more to yourself than anyone else. The words were a mantra, an echo of the things you had been forced to say in other times, in other places, when things broke, when things were shattered, and you were left to pick up the pieces, no matter the cost.

You didn’t know how to stop. You didn’t know how to make yourself stop scrambling, stop trying to make the mess disappear, as though your very worth depended on it. All you knew was that the shards were too sharp, the blood too bright, the panic too thick in your chest. You had to make it right. You had to make it stop hurting.

The world felt like it was slipping away from you, the edges blurring and twisting as you kept reaching for the shards, gathering them up, trying to fit them together, trying to turn them into something whole.

But nothing fit. Nothing was whole. Nothing could be fixed.

Regulus’s voice reached you, soft at first, but thick with concern. "Stop, please stop," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "You're hurting yourself, amour,"

But it was too much. It was all too much. The shattered pieces, the blood, the suffocating pressure to make everything okay—it was all too much for you to bear. And the tears finally spilled over, hot and fast, as your chest heaved with the force of them.

Remus was beside you then, kneeling down in front of you, his hands catching yours gently, pulling them away from the shards. "Love, no, no, no, stop," He said sharply, horror strangling the words.

"Darling, please," Regulus said, his voice cracking down the middle.

They were both on their knees beside you, not caring about the broken shards cutting into their own hands, reaching for you with such tenderness it made the room tilt.

"Look at me," Remus said, reaching out slowly, palms up, voice gentler than you had ever heard. "You are not in trouble. You are not in trouble."

"You did nothing wrong," Regulus said, crouching low, his eyes wide and wet. "It is just a vase. It does not matter. You matter."

But you were still shaking, your hands red with blood and fear, your chest heaving with little broken sobs you could not swallow down. You tried to gather the larger pieces anyway, tried to fit them together with trembling fingers, crying harder when they refused to become whole again.

"I am sorry," you whispered over and over. "I did not mean to. I swear I will be better. Please, please do not leave."

Regulus made a sound then, a wounded, helpless noise. Because had he been that bad at loving you that you thought he would leave you over a vase?

Remus caught your wrists before you could hurt yourself again, holding them lightly, not restraining, just there, solid and warm and unmovable.

"Sweetheart, no," Remus whispered, his voice a soft caress that wrapped around you like a blanket. "We are not angry. We could never be angry with you, baby." His words were so tender, so filled with warmth, that they made your chest ache in a way you didn't know you could feel. His thumb brushed over your arm in slow, calming strokes, grounding you to the moment, to them.

"You are safe," Regulus breathed, cupping your bleeding hand with such care that it made you want to crumble, to sob harder, as if his touch could undo the years of fear and hurt that had clung to you for so long.

"You are safe, you are safe, you are safe." Each repetition was like a gentle promise, a lullaby meant to ease you, but you couldn’t breathe easy just yet. Your heart raced, a flutter of panic that was impossible to still, not when the shadows of your past still lingered, pressing against the edges of every moment.

You shook your head, trying to pull away, trying to slip out of their reach, lost somewhere deep inside, somewhere where love had always meant pain and mistakes had always meant loneliness. Somewhere where you had learned to protect yourself by pushing others away, never letting anyone get too close.

You didn’t know how to let anyone in—not like this, not with such tenderness. But Remus, with his steady grip, only tightened his hands on you, a quiet insistence that you didn’t have to run anymore.

"You do not have to fix anything," Remus said softly, his voice full of such conviction that it almost made you stop and listen. "You are not broken. There is nothing to fix." His words, so simple yet profound, hung in the air between you like a promise.

For the first time, someone was telling you that you were enough, as you were, and that feeling—such an unfamiliar one—made your throat tighten.

Regulus, always the quieter one, brushed the hair from your face with hands that shook just a little, as if afraid to hurt you, even in the smallest way. "Let us take care of you, please," he murmured, his voice raw, like it was a prayer whispered into the night, fragile and desperate.

The tenderness in his tone wrapped around your heart, pulling at something deep within you. His touch felt like a balm, soothing, even when it made your pulse quicken in fear.

Slowly, as if they were afraid to move too fast, they guided you away from the blood and the glass.

Regulus cradled your injured hand against his chest, holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world, fragile and tender. Remus gathered you into his arms with such gentle strength that it left you gasping. His embrace was safe, unyielding, but kind.

You didn’t know how to let go, how to lean into that kind of love, but somehow, in the silence that followed, you found yourself doing just that.

They sat you on the couch, close together, their presence wrapping around you like a shield. Still, they whispered to you, murmuring words you could hardly understand but felt deep in your bones.

Remus pressed a soft cloth to your palm, the cool fabric a contrast to the warmth of his hands, as he worked to stop the bleeding. Regulus, as if every movement had to be slow and deliberate, wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes, his sweater sleeve gentle against your skin, as if trying to erase the hurt you hadn't meant to show.

"You are alright," Remus said over and over, his voice rhythmic, like a lullaby meant to bring calm. Each repetition was in time with the frantic beat of your heart, which was struggling to steady itself, to accept the safety they were offering you. "You are alright."

Regulus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment, then another, his lips brushing against your hair, the air near your temple. His touch was so careful, as if you might break if he held you too tightly. "We love you," he said, his voice barely a whisper, but filled with a certainty that settled deep into your chest. "We love you more than anything. No broken thing will ever change that."

The floor was still littered with shards of glass, the blood a reminder of what had just happened, but none of it mattered. Not anymore.

The only thing that mattered was the way they looked at you. It was a look that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you had never known before. Like you were something sacred, something worth every broken part of you, even the ones you didn’t know how to heal.

They didn’t see your scars as flaws, they saw them as pieces of you—the person they loved, the person they wanted to protect.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe it.

You let yourself believe that you could be loved like this—completely, unconditionally, without fear. It was terrifying, but it was also beautiful in a way that made the tears feel like they were washing away everything you’d ever known, making space for something new. Something good.

[crescenthistory]

Totally Just the Fifth and Sixth Wheel

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: Your and Regulus' private study session is interrupted by one Barty Crouch Junior who is inviting you on a triple date. You remind him for the thousandth time, that you aren't dating.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: not proofread (who's got the time), fem!reader, longing, barty being barty, featuring wolfstar, rosekiller and james, fluff, sitting/half-cuddling without leaving space for god, typical marauders cursing and banter, me attempting to improve my dialogue and comedy, unresolved mutual pining, light discussion of black siblings drama, reader and regulus are teased relentlessly

Note: part two & part three

The Hogwarts Library was always slightly more still and calm on Saturdays, a luxury you made sure to never miss out on.

In a hidden-away corner, you and Regulus sat crammed into the same overstuffed emerald armchair. He sat normally, though slightly squeezed to the left, while you had your back to the right arm, leaning into his side with your legs sprawled across his lap. He evened the score by lolling his head gently against your shoulder as you both tried to focus on the parchment before you. It was an awkward fit – Regulus was all angles and sharp lines – but you never really cared, and neither did he.

"You know, if you had actually studied for Potions last night instead of playing chess with Barty," Regulus began, his voice a teasing whisper, "you wouldn't be stuck relying on me to help you through this essay."

He didn't bother lifting his head as he drawled, so you felt his breath on your skin. His dark hair, always perfectly in place, had fallen just enough to shade his eyes and tickle your neck.

"You're the one who insisted on going over three different ways to brew Amortentia, which, mind you, wasn't even required for this essay," you countered, smiling for no one to see.

He snorted softly. "It was for educational purposes. Not my fault you’re hopeless at memorising–"

"Not hopeless," you interrupted, smirking at him as he sat up straighter and fixed you with those cool, swirly eyes. "Just resourceful. Why bother memorising when I've got you?"

Folded in the crevices of his eyes and your words, there was that gentle push-pull between the two of you, a habit developed over years of being each other's only real reprieve. Your families were pressure cookers, a constant source of demands and expectations, of screaming and fears. It had tethered on explosion many a time, but through your years-long friendship, you had been able to make it a bit lighter together. Regulus had his complicated relationship with Sirius, but other than that, no one really knew how heavy it weighed on the both of you – just each other.

And then there was Barty, of course.

“Oi!” The familiar, obnoxious voice you somehow loved rang through the – thankfully nearly empty – library, making you tense for a split second before you exhaled. “Merlin’s bloody balls, you two are stuck in here again?”

Barty Crouch Jr. strode in, tossing himself onto the sofa opposite you and Regulus. He stretched his long legs out like he owned the place, flinging an arm across the back of the cushion.

“We’re not stuck,” you corrected him lazily, shooting him a glance from beneath your lashes. “We’re enjoying a bit of quiet. Something you might want to as well, seeing as we're in a library, Junior.”

Barty raised an eyebrow and then snorted, “Quiet? More quiet? You two sit in silence more than any couple I’ve ever known.”

You rolled your eyes, but Regulus – who you now, with the added presence, noticed was more tired today than usual – shot him a look that could have frozen hell over. As per usual. Barty, being Barty, didn’t care of course, just snickered for himself. He was the only one who could get away with constantly poking at Regulus, at both of you, with no more than witty quips thrown back. Maybe because he had been the one to pull you out of your shells, dragging you both into the light when you would have otherwise spent your time locked in your shared solitude and messy brains. Or maybe because he had been able to weasel his way into your hearts before you were old enough to realise he's a bit of an arse. By then, he was your arse.

"We're not silent, dear, we just aren't obnoxiously loud," Regulus hinted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, you do sit around whispering all the time. One would have thought you were spellbound to your books – and each other." Barty grinned, not even a little apologetic. “Or maybe just by each other."

"Oh shut up, Barty," you scoffed, though not without a slight smile.

"I’m just sayin’!”

Regulus leaned back against the chair, his elbow brushing your arm. "You’re always just sayin' something,” he said, eyes flicking toward the fire. “And you’re always wrong."

Barty’s eyes lit up, leaning forward with a grin that could only mean trouble. “Oh, come on, Reg. It’s been years. You two, together all the time, acting like no one else exists. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t killed each other or, better yet, finally gotten over yourselves and just snogged already."

This has always been Barty’s favourite game, teasing the two of you relentlessly, but it felt more pointedly overt tonight. Yet it didn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. Just because he's so very ridiculously wrong, of course.

“We have not–” Regulus began, but Barty cut him off with a wave of his hand. 

“Right, right, you’ve never even thought about it." He makes an, arguably poor, attempt at imitating Regulus' tone. "But let’s be real, everyone else think you're shagging, so maybe you should too– oh, speaking of–" Barty had a poor habit of cutting himself of when a new train of thought entered. "Guess who finally asked Evan out?"

The shift in the conversation barely registered with you; you are very attuned to rolling with the Junior way of conversing, but Regulus shook his head in surprise.

"You? And Rosier?" Regulus asked, staring Barty down with more interest than he had shown the poor sod all evening. "Are you serious?"

Barty gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes, but the grin never left his face. “Took him long enough, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought he was avoiding you after that time you hexed him in Transfiguration–”

“Self-defence,” Barty cut in, giving you a wink. “He had it coming.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Didn't he have it coming for trying to ask you out, Barty?”

“Like I said. Self-defence. Son of a witch should let me be the one to make the first move.”

You shook your head fondly, happy for your second-oldest friend. "What a gentleman you are, Barty. Happy for you though, finally the pining and drunken hookups have led to something of sustance."

Barty nodded gravely, in faux seriousness. "Exactly! And that says something, coming from the Queen of pining."

You kicked his shin under the table and he laughed a bit too loudly for the library, evidently pleased with himself.

"I do no such thing, thank you very much."

Glancing sideways at Regulus, his expression was carefully neutral, though you could tell he was happy for Barty. Though, you were sure, he would never say that out loud.

Barty, ever the troublemaker, wasn't finished yet. “Which reminds me,” he said, leaning forward again with that dangerous glint in his eye, “We’re all going out this weekend. You lot, me, Rosier... oh, and your brother too, Reg.”

Regulus stiffened slightly beside you, just enough for you to notice and Barty to ignore. “Sirius?”

“Yep,” Barty said cheerfully, “and his boyfriend, Lupin. They're finally official as well, trying to steal my spotlight it seems.”

You and Regulus share a glance, trying to take it in. Sirius and Remus had been dancing around each other for what felt like ages, but apparently, they had finally made the leap. Regulus' jaw tightened slightly. His relationship with Sirius was still relatively uneasy territory for him, but they were making an effort to heal it together. You moved on from him, focusing your attention on Barty, so Regulus could process undisturbed.

"Since when do you and Big Black keep tabs on each other, let alone plan a double date?" you implored, genuinely confused.

"Well, firstly, Treasure," Barty drawled. "I always keep tabs on my best friends' sometimes-shitty-sometimes-good-always-complicated siblings. Secondly, as I said, they're stealing our spotlight, so of course I got involved."

"Ah, so it's not voluntary?" You quirk a brow at him, jokingly challenging him.

"Is too! The bastards are lucky I even suggested it."

"Riiiiiight," you dragged out, cocking your head at a huffing Barty.

You rolled your eyes laughing, then glanced over at the boy whose lap you were partially sat in. His gaze had trailed off into his lap, thoughts clearly elsewhere. You and Barty made eye contact and he sent you a look that clearly said his involvement with Sirius was for Regulus and not actually to bother him. Over the years, you had developed almost a form of telepathy with Barty, always seeing the aggressive loyalty behind his actions.

You placed a hand instinctively on Regulus' elbow and he seemed to come back down to reality.

"Anyway, the six of us are headed for Hogsmeade next weekend for our triple date. You better schedule us into your shared calendar." Barty went straight back to teasing.

"There is no shared calendar."

"And there is no triple date," you added.

Barty’s grin widened, and he flicked his eyes between you and Regulus. “What do you call a date with three couples? Regulus and Treasure, me and Evan, Sirius and Lupin. That's three. Three Broomsticks, that's a date. Triple date! Or do you prefer French, Reggie, un triple rencard? More romantic for ya?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Regulus beat you to it. “We’re not a couple, Junior, would you just knock it off."

“Well, someone should tell the rest of the castle that, mate,” Barty said, smirking. “Everyone else seems to think you two are already married."

Before you could continue the seemingly never-ending argument with the grinning black-and-green-haired rascal before you, you heard footsteps and chatter approaching. Regulus whispered something in your ear about none of these buffoons respecting the quiet in a library as Sirius, Remus, and James appeared from around the corner. Sirius’s eyes flicked over the three of you, his gaze landing on Regulus, and giving a rather genuine smile.

“Greetings baby brother, sister-in-law and unfortunate acquaintance. What’s this I hear about a triple date?” Sirius asked, sauntering over like he owned the place, ignoring Regulus' groan.

If offended by the less-than-affectionate greeting he received, Barty did not show it as he grinned even more maniacally at what he likely saw as back-up in his torment of you two. "Good afternoon to you too, Big Black, we're just discussing the wedding colours. I am in support of emerald green, and I will listen to no other opinions as I know them best."

"No fair, I've known Reg the longest!"

"I do believe they would look lovely in a red," James teases as the group settles down around the table.

Regulus groaned softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For the love of–"

"You guys can walk around in whatever colour you'd like – we aren't getting married." You tried to set a stop to the conversation now. The jokes didn't roll as comfortably off you when in larger company. Though you and Remus had become quite good friends through class and you were seeing Regulus through his healing friendship with Sirius, you still weren't entirely accustomed to the bunch up close all at once.

"Well, surely not now, but the day will come and it's never too early to start planning," Sirius quipped, his grin matching Barty's perhaps a bit too much. "I will be best man, yeah?"

"Absolutely not, I will!" Barty butted in before you had the chance to reply.

"Wouldn't you be her best man? Or man of honour or whatever?" James raised an eyebrow, trying to pick up on the dynamic.

"Of course I will."

"Then Padfoot can be Regulus'?"

"I have no idea why you are talking about pads and feet, but no, I will be best man and man of honour thank you very much."

"That's no fair!" Sirius cried.

"Shouldn't this be a decision the lovely couple makes?" Remus chimed in, trying to calm his partner with a smile.

"For Salazar's sake – we are not dating!" You cut the whole conversation off, emphasising your point with hand gesticulations. The table actually went quiet for a moment, the newest additions sharing confused looks.

"What?" was all James could say.

"We are not together," Regulus spoke up for the first time, rolling his eyes in true Regulus-fashion. "We're just close friends."

Barty snorted at that.

Sirius looked absolutely floored for once. His eyes flick between you and Regulus in genuine surprise. “Wait– you're serious? You aren't dating? Since when?”

"Since forever?" Regulus questioned right back at his brother, finding his groove in the sarcastic exchanges. "Can two people not be close without having to be shagging?"

Sirius and Barty both chimed a "no" at the same time, though Barty was finding much more humour in it all than the other. He added, "Well, Treasure and I can. Evan and Reg can. You two on the other hand..."

You felt heat rise to your face, Regulus' leg shaking you slightly as he began to bounce it. "Where did you all even get that from?" you questioned, looking at everyone but Barty. You were well aware of why he thought what he thought.

“I mean–” Sirius spread his hands, gesturing towards how the two of you were sat, as you suddenly became aware that most of your body was touching Regulus' in some way. "Look at you! You’re always together. You act like an old married couple half the time. And you basically let each other get away with murder. I'm still not entirely convinced Trouble here won't kill me if Reggie ever asks."

"Don't call me that."

"I probably would."

Sirius was unaffected by both comments. He look towards James for support, who was nodding emphatically, clearly shocked too.

"Yeah, no, I thought it was just, like, common knowledge that you have been dating for years," James said, raising his hands a little at the look on Regulus' face. "No offence, just how it seems from the outside, 's all."

"Not to mention you look at her like–” Sirius started.

“Like what?” Regulus cut in, his grip on you loosening, just a little.

Sirius blinked, still thoroughly confused. “Like you’re bloody in love with her.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Remus suppressing a smile, engaging in some stare-down with his brother. You worried your voice would fail you, so you just shook your head disapprovingly.

Barty, never one to leave well enough alone, leaned back with a smug grin. “Told you tossers. The whole castle thinks you're dating, so you might as well get on with it."

"Well, we're not and we won't, so can you guys please just shut up." Regulus' jaw was still tight, scouring at his friends as he debated if that term was still one he wanted to use about them.

Sirius just shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, Reg, whatever you say. But you’re both coming, yeah?”

You turned more into him as you scanned his face for an answer. Regulus held your gaze for a long moment, and you could see the wariness flickering just behind his eyes. You smiled, quirking a brow at him as if to say it's up to you, babe. He sighed and then said a low fine.

With a dramatised sigh, you turned back to Sirius and Barty and their expectant looks. “It’s not a triple date,” you said firmly, lifting your chin just slightly. “But we’ll join you as... I don’t know. Fifth and sixth wheels.”

Regulus grip on you tightened again as he settled back into his seat. “Exactly. Fifth and sixth wheels. Sure.”

Barty threw his head back and barked out a loud, unrestrained and frankly unnecessary laugh. “Sure thing, sweetcheeks,” he teased, grinning from ear to ear. “Whatever you need to tell yourselves. I’ll make sure Rosier knows it’s not a date.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, mumbling some indelicate words under his breath that only you could catch. You stifled a laugh, at which Regulus’ lips twitched – just the slightest hint of amusement given to you.

Sirius, still grinning, clapped his hands together like this was some great victory. “Brilliant. Can’t wait to see you both there. It’ll be... enlightening.”

Remus, who had been watching this whole exchange with thinly veiled amusement, leaned in closer to Sirius and muttered, “Enlightening? You've spent too much time with McGonagall.”

"Yeah, in detention," James muttered, evidently a shared trauma.

Sirius nudged him with his elbow, snickering. “Shut up, Moony.”

"Oi, that's no way to speak to your fresh boyfriend, is it, Black?" you teased, glad to have some revenge.

"Firstly, my darling not-quite-sister-in-law, you may refer to me as Sirius," he drawled with a lazy grin. "Secondly, I'll have you know he enjoys it when I'm a bit rude."

"Did not need to know that," Regulus mumbled with shut eyes as Remus swatted at his boyfriend to get him to behave.

"Anyway. We are happy for you." You smiled warmly, missing the shared glance between Remus and Sirius at your use of we. Regulus hadn't seemed to notice either, used to it.

"You won't be as happy when you have to see them sucking faces at this triple date." James' voice was laced with faux annoyance. You didn't bother correcting his use of the term triple date. Regulus scoffed, but it seemed to be more aimed at the idea of his brother sucking faces with anyone.

"You're just upset Evans isn't willing to suck faces with you yet, Prongs." Sirius' comeback caused a groan from James as his head thumped on the table – clearly he was right.

Barty made an ooooo sound, leaning in closer to poke at James, wanting to know all the hopefully-gory details.

With a tired sigh, you shifted back into the chair, pulling the Potions book from the table onto your lap once more, determined to return to your homework. You still had an essay due tomorrow, and Merlin knew Slughorn wasn’t going to accept any excuses, even from his favourite students. Regulus, sensing the shift in your focus, followed your lead, picking up his quill with a kind of forced determination. Your eyes met and you smiled at each other, back in the comfort of your little bubble, even with the overflowing table.

The chatter around the library became a dull hum as Sirius and Barty went from interrogating James to discussing the specifics of their plans for the weekend with Remus and James chiming in here and there. You didn’t need to listen – Barty would tell you all the ridiculous details later, no doubt with some embellished commentary on how hopelessly “in love” you and Regulus clearly were. He loved pushing his narratives, ever the comic.

But now, as you tried to force your attention back to your notes, the exhaustion that had been creeping up on you all evening settled in. You had barely slept the night before, and after a more exerting conversation than you had prepared for as you entered the library, you were reaching your limit.

Unconsciously, you let your body lean further into Regulus’s side, your shoulder pressing against his more firmly, your head coming to rest against the crook of his neck. It was such a small movement, something you had done hundreds of times before, but it felt more loaded in these surroundings. You could have sworn you felt Regulus' breath hitch. Nevertheless, your body naturally relaxed into his warmth.

Regulus tried to relax his posture to make it more comfortable for you, and let you rest against him without complaint. His quill hovered over the parchment for a moment, forgotten, as he swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the way his heart had started pounding in his chest. It did every time. It didn't seem like you had noticed before, so why worry about it now?

He told himself it didn’t mean anything – he said it a thousand times, you were his best friend. You had always been close like this. But Merlin, if his skin didn’t burn oh so deliciously where you touched him. If his mind didn’t wander to how you smelled, to the warmth of your body pressing against his. If he didn't savour the moment as if it would never happen again, as he felt so damned lucky that he knew it would.

He fought to keep his expression neutral, forcing his gaze back down to his notes, but the words on the page were little more than a blur now. He let his head drop onto yours as he kept rereading the same sentence.

Remus had drifted away from the conversation, eyeing the two of you. The others had – thankfully – moved on by now, but he risked elbowing Sirius slightly to point out how comfortable you two had grown together the second the attention was off you. Sirius had an eyebrow raised, his lips pressed into a thin line, but his eyes were glinting with that same, familiar mischief. Remus shot him a knowing glance, as if to say don’t push it.

Sirius didn’t say anything, knowing Remus was unfortunately right as usual, but the look he gave his brother spoke volumes. Despite what Regulus may want to think, he knew him. And he knew for a fact, that his little brother was in love. He smiled.

Barty and James had begun to bond over some grand plan to prank Evan during the supposed "not-date" this weekend. You had half an ear in the conversation, trying to catch on to whether you should warn Evan beforehand. But none of that really mattered to you at the moment. Not to you and certainly not to Regulus, who was trying desperately not to give in to the warmth spreading through him as your sigh fanned his skin.

You let your eyes drift close, just for a moment, feeling the weight of your pull at your consciousness. Caught somewhere between exhaustion and peace. Regulus noticed immediately and rubbed soothing circles on your back as he began to plot your escape to the dormitories.

You could have stayed like that forever. And maybe, Regulus thought, as his other hand brushed against yours where it rested on the armchair, he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

[my-castles-crumbling]

ice skating - february 23rd - server microfic challenge - jegulus - word count: 487

One of the things that intrigued James so much about Regulus Black was that he was so…unbreakable. No matter what was going on around him or what he was feeling, Regulus was always put together. He was never ruffled or afraid. 

James knew it was a facade, of course. He knew Regulus far too well not to know that. But still, Regulus was an enigma, and James loved to stare into those unreadable gray eyes and try to discern what was going on beneath the surface of Regulus’s mask.

Which was why he was absolutely gleeful to see his boyfriend so terribly off-balance (both literally and figuratively) as soon as James got him in a pair of ice skates.

“James! James! Oh Merlin!” Regulus yelled frantically as soon as he stepped on the ice, flinging his arms in large windmilling motions, legs slipping and sliding as he tried and failed to stay standing. “James, help!”

With a small chuckle, James lunged forward, grabbed Regulus’s arms and held him still, smiling down at him as he threw him a death glare. “All right, Reg?” he asked with a smile. 

“N-no!” Regulus hissed, slipping again and yelping, even as his hands curled so tightly around James’s biceps that he was probably going to leave marks. He caught himself in an odd half-crouch, his legs spread wide and his butt sticking out being him. “What the hell were you thinking? You’re going to kill me!” he said, disgust in his tone.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” James replied calmly, moving his hands slowly to Regulus’s waist and squeezing firmly. “Shh. Breathe. I’ve got you, love.”

He saw the other boy’s terrified expression relax by a fraction of an amount, but he still looked like he was about to walk into a battlefield unarmed. “I’m going to fall,” Regulus mumbled, voice thin and vulnerable, true fear on his face as he stared into James’s eyes.

Something soft melted throughout James’s chest and he tried not to think too much about how strangely intimate this moment was. “No, baby. You’re not. Here, just do little steps. I’m not going to let go.”

It took Regulus a long time to move his foot. It was like he was sizing James up, trying to decide if he really trusted him to stay. But after a while, Regulus stood up a little and moved his foot a fraction, still gripping James tightly.

“There you go, love,” James murmured when he saw Regulus move. “That’s it. You got it.”

Regulus nodded at the praise and moved more– slow, careful steps. But soon, they were actually making slight progress around the frozen pond.

“Salazar,” Regulus breathed, swallowing, still refusing to let go of his boyfriend. “I’m skating.”

James laughed lightly. “Proud of you, Reg.”

Of course, one week later, it was Regulus who was literally skating circles around James. Much to James’s annoyance.

[thehauntedhousespicketfence]

you don’t understand.

i need sybil/pandora right now

growing up, they both constantly thought they were crazy. they both got these in-explainable visions/dreams that somehow always came true.

both were bullied. both were feared by their own families because of how they always seemed to know things, things that no child should know. because sometimes they'd be walking down the street, and they'd point at someone and simply say 'they're going to die tomorrow'. their parents were scared of them, but also scared for them. because seers go crazy, and they were still only kids

they both get sorted into ravenclaw. sybill is alone in the beginning, but she's fine with that - it means she doesn't get those haunting visions of people's deaths whenever she makes eye contact with them. and pandora has her twin brother and his friends to rely on. but those friends were never really close with her - she's the weird girl. the girl that evan brings around because he refuses to just abandon his twin, but barty and regulus are always wary of the blonde girl that looks at them with a mix of fear, confusion and pity

both girls get a feeling that they have to sit at a specific table in the library one day. they both get there at the same time, sitting in the chair opposite each other. they don’t say anything, they just nod at each other in understanding

after that they spend every day with each other, talking about when their visions started, reading every book on divination they can find to try and understand what it is they’re seeing, trying to understand what is wrong with them

sybill’s visions were always clearer. she’d sometimes dream of prophecies that felt so real, she’d get them mixed up with reality and pandora was the only person that could calm her down. pandora on the other hand - her talents lied with tarott cards, with crystal balls and palm reading. her visions were more up to interpretation instead of a clearly defined path. she was there to help sybill see the light in her pessimistic visions, trying to weave other meanings into them, because - sure, war was on the horrizon, but everyone couldn't die in it. right?

they kissed for the first time in the astronomy tower - cliche as it sounds, but where else would it have been? they were reading the stars, reading between those little winking lights, trying to find hidden meanings in them. it was the one thing sybill never saw coming - the feeling of pandora's lips on hers. featherlight and warm. it was the one thing she couldn't predict, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. she was thankful for it

thankful for it, because it meant her heart sped up in excitement. meant she was frozen for a second, confused and scared and - oh so alive.

their love was written in the stars, engraved in the palms of their hands, in the lines around their eyes and the strings in their hearts. it was fate.

but then war came for them

it became impossible for sybill to see the light in her visions. she kept seeing her friends die over and over again. it was so real she began to lose track of who was still here and who they’d already lost. she began to draw away from the wizarding world as a whole - which included pandora

pandora, who she loved more than anything, but now whenever she looked at her, she saw her dying in pain and anguish. she saw a locket and water. she saw a daughter with another man's eyes. she saw her death in such excruciating detail that sometimes it felt like she was dying with her too

she spent the war hidden away with the muggles, who thought she was certifiably insane. she was used to the ridicule, though. she moved from job to job, begging employers to keep her on for a just a little longer. they never did. the girl who spoke to herself and gave strange 'warnings' to costumers? who seemingly didn't understand anything about how to act or how to survive? who called everyone muggles and asked about dragons, and pixies, and elves? no. of course they did't let her stay

she moved a lot too, paranoid that someone would come find her. they never did. because sybill was never important. it didn't matter if she'd seen the end of this war a million times over since she was a child. no one ever believed her.

then there was pandora - whose best friends were all swept up in a war she wanted no part of. and it was all she could do to watch as the woman she loved fell deeper and deeper into the ‘madness’ that claimed the best of seers. she watched that madness claim sybill slowly, gradually, until there was almost nothing left of her. and pandora began to ignore her own gifts to try and save herself from that same fate

she was succeeding with it too. she hadn't had a clear vision for months until the night before her best friend died. it was the clearest vision she’d ever had - a boy drowning - and she knew it was true. even before the news hit the papers, when they were speculating if regulus black was lost or simply dead, she knew

and she knew they would never find his body.

for the next few years, she was flooded by visions. she used all the skills she and sybill had honed together to try and understand what happened to regulus.

she fell in love in that time, she had a daughter. her brother died, and even though she saw that coming in sickening detail, she knew it had to happen - that there was no other way. dorcas came next - kind, fearless dorcas, who fought on the right side of history (even though those lines were a little more blurred for pandora than she cared to admit). dorcas, who was overcome with grief and rage, and pandora knew that there was nothing she could do to prevent it either

the war ended, and yet she kept fighting

the war ended but sybil was still haunted by visions of death, but now they were muddied - unclear. for the first time in her life she understood the complexity of pandora's sight. she started to reintroduce herself to society, but it was never the same - she had a reputation now, for being crazy and unstable. so when she was offered a job teaching at hogwarts, and she grabbed it with both hands. though she was haunted by the past now when she walked through those halls. memories of the only person she'd ever loved, the woman whose brutal death she always saw even if the war was already gone

and one day, years later, pandora finally understood what regulus had done

and one day, sybill finally understood what was happening in her visions

maybe sybill got there in time. maybe she arrived before it was too late. maybe - together - they found a way to cheat fate. the strongest seers the world had ever known, defying death itself out of sheer fucking spite because haven't they already lost enough?

maybe sybill meats the girl with another man's eyes, and maybe luna grows up with auntie sybill and her mother

maybe they find a way to destory the locket, and maybe they dream of more horcrux's and destroy them too

maybe they prevent a second war before it even gets the chance to start, and spend the rest of their lives in quiet, comfortable bliss. they wouldn't chase fame for their doings, wouldn't tell a soul about what they'd done. they'd know, and that would be enough

or maybe not

maybe pandora dies, just as it was written in the stars, in the lines in their palms and around their eyes, in the strings in their hearts

maybe they were doomed to simply watch, and could do absolutely nothing to help change what they saw

maybe

why would we know, afterall?

[suugarbabe]

You are SO amazing love, never let anyone tell you any different. I WILL fight them 😤

Tysm for considering wolfstar!daughter, i think youd enjoy the current fics that are currently out for it. Most of them are x fred or george and it just reminds me of you everytime.

Sorry, this is probs going to be long 😬

For the prompt though, i imagine they came about reader when remus found her on a full moon as a toddler werewolf, abandond in the forest (last yr hogwarts or graduated doesnt matter, whatever you decide) and when Sirius finally finds Remus the next morning he's shocked, confused, and then melts. Big, tall, broard Remus has this small bundle of cuteness wrapped in his sweater trying to cuddle into him.

Whether youd like to continue on from there or do reader growing up or a time skip is up to you. Same as if James dies or not, whatever your brilliant mind decides 🧡 but if it helps this is how i see the family dynamic:

I think Sirius would be the overprotective kind of dad, never failing with that wonderful sense of dramatics!

While Remus is the calm voice of reason that talks himself down when he feels like he might be going a little overboard.

Of course we're Uncle Reggies little star, he will be mean to another child if they hurt you. He and James are constantly arguing over who's the better uncle.

James is the uncle that gives you alcohol illegally and doesnt adhere to a curfew.

So skip to hogwarts in some of the last years (im a ravenclaw so i always imagine reader as a ravenclaw but anyhouse would be fun to explore) and reader makes it official with Theo or Enzo. Harry's a tattle tale and tells his dad who then brags to Reggie, who the apparats him self the Sirius' to demand answers because "who was this vile thing that dared touch his star?? Boyfriend?!?! Fucking over his dead body!!" Fully expecting Sirius to agree with him. But he doesnt, he just sighs because at least they made it til 6th/7th yr before boys started, he'll give the poor boy a chance first. And then Remus bursts in and has a full meltdown. Thats his little wolf; his baby. She can have a boyfriend. A BOYFRIEND!?! He might puke. No this isnt allowed. Boys are gross. And nasty. And theyre going to hurt her. But not before he hurts them!! He's going to put the fear of godric into this boy! RIGHT NOW!! Wheres his wand? He needs to go to Hogwarts.

Its so unexpected that both Black brothers are frozen. Until Remus starts searching for his wand and Sirius has to calm him down while Regulus goads him on. And through all of it, reader and Enzo/Theo were standing at the door to 'meet the parents'.

And then however you want it to go from there love! So sorry that was soo long and rambely. Of couese no pressure to write it and take whatever creative liberties youd like!!

Thank you love x

The group had made an agreement that the girls would all get a flat together, as would the boys. So naturally Sirius, James and Remus planned and found one for themselves that was 'absolutely perfect' as Sirius put it since it back right up to a large patch of woods; 'Perfect for you, Moony'.

In the moment Remus had rolled his eyes, but truly he was thankful. By the last full moon of school, Remus had managed to transform back to himself without completely passing out. After the fourth full moon in the flat, Remus was able to still decently function after his transformations.

What neither Sirius nor James expected happened and they didn't know how to react initially. Sirius and James had lost sight of Remus toward the end of the night, now both transformed back to themselves looking for him.

When Sirius found him, he didn't expect the scene he walked upon. Remus shoulders were hunched over, and at first Sirius thought he was crying. But the closer he got, he realized it was not Remus making those noises, but...a child?

"Moony...what the bloody hell is that," Sirius voice was cautious, he was still convinced he might be hallucinating.

Remus turned around slowly, "She's like me, Pads. She...she was a tiny little wolf, I swear it." Sirius was skeptical, but the way Remus was looking down at you, every doubt was melting away. The way your tiny hands gripped on to Remus's sweater.

When Sirius got close enough, you reached out for him, and he was done for. When James caught up with the pair he had the same initial reaction. But like Sirius, one look at you and he was also convinced.

It had taken the girls no time to swoon after you, and the boys were forever grateful. While Remus declared himself your father (Sirius demanding his was Dad number 2). James became your fun uncle (funcle as he called himself, Lily rolling her eyes each time).

To say it had taken a village was not just a cliché, but reality. Sirius was every over protective father, having a flair for the dramatics any time anything happened, good or bad. Remus was more calm, essentially the voice of reason when Sirius was talking circles. You eventually became the perfect mix of the two, which they both loved.

When you got your Hogwarts letter Sirius threw a party, Remus thinking it was a little over the top but Sirius insisted, "Our little star got her letter, we're celebrating Moony." Regulus had brought you off to the side, insisting you owl him if anyone is mean to you, he'll come and fix it, "Even if it's another little twat kid, you let me know, okay Star?"

After fourth year, James let you try his beer for the first time. Sirius lost his mind, Remus reminded Sirius how much worse he was at your age and that if James was letting her try it that it was a better situation than he used to get in to.

What you didn't expect was the commotion that ensued during Christmas holiday seventh year. It was tradition for you and your dads to throw a party on Christmas Eve. You were putting the final touches on the Christmas biscuits you usually made when a loud pop sounded in the living room.

"SIRIUS GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE NOW!" The voice of Regulus rang throughout your house and you instantly froze. Sirius sauntered in, not bothered by his younger brothers tone, "Seriously, with the shouting Reg, what is it now?"

Regulus looked over Sirius shoulder at you in the kitchen before turning back to his brother, "How could you let her, huh? How could you let her do this, with a Slytherin no less? My little star? Who is this vile snake you've let touch our little girl, a boyfriend, Sirius, really?"

You held your breath, fully expecting your dad to lose it, go full on dramatics, but instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose, "Honestly, Reg, calm down. I'm surprised it took us till seventh year for her to finally decide to get a boyfriend, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful," he turned pointing at you, "but I trust her, Reg. And you should too. She's not like us. Really though, darling, a Slytherin?"

Sirius turned to face you and all you could muster was a shrug of your shoulders before your father burst in. "WHAT did I just hear? My wolf has a WHAT? With a WHO? Darling are you mad, who is this boy? A boyfriend? Oh my Godric, I think I'm going to be sick. Who is he, star? Who, tell me now. I'm getting my wand. Sirius, my wand now."

Remus held out his hand expectantly, but nothing happened. Both Regulus and Sirius stood frozen, mouths agape at Remus's reaction before a sly smirk crawled its way onto Sirius's features, "Oh my my, Moony, this is a sight."

At that moment the Potter's all appeared, the air obviously thick with tension. James looked between his friends, "Oi, what did we miss?"

When you saw Harry you were instantly enraged, your inherant traits from Sirius coming in to play, "You little fucking rat, you weasel, you knew I was going to tell them over break, how could you tell Reggie before I could tell my parents, I'll hex you Potter, I swear it!"

You started after Harry, only for James's strong arms to lift you up by the waist and hold you tight, "Woah there, mini Sirius, calm down. I think this might be my fault. Harry told me out of concern and I might have boasted about your feats to Reggie."

You went slump in your Uncle's grasp, "Uncle Jamie...how could you." You were pouting as he sat you down, giving you a tight hug, "I'm sorry, star, I was just so dang proud of you."

You looked over at your parents, Sirius now rubbing Remus's back who was pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a knock on the door, causing everyone's attention to switch towards the distrubance.

Walking towards the door, you looked back with your hand on the handle, "Be nice." The marauders and Harry held up their hands in defense, Regulus crossed his, "No promises."

When you opened the door, Enzo stood there, cheeks slightly pink. "Erm, are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" You laughed slightly out of embarrassment, "How much did you hear exactly?"

"Enough to know I'm more afraid of Professor Lupin than Sirius," he whispered as he followed you through the door.

"Dad, Father, this is Enzo. My boyfriend," You gestured toward Enzo who gave a shy wave.

Remus placed his hand on his own chest, "Oh thank god it's Berkshire. I was really worried, star dear. Really worried. Thought maybe it was going to be the Nott boy."

This caused both you and Enzo to laugh, Enzo speaking up finally, "Merlin, no, sir. Nott's afraid of Y/n actually. So you've done a good job."

"Don't start kissing ass just yet, Berkshire," Regulus stuck a finger out at the boy.

"Uncle Reggie. Behave," you scolded him like a child, he looked down at the floor like one, too.

Sirius stepped forward, extending his hand, "So sorry, my boy. I'm Sirius, Y/n's father. You've met Moony, erm, Professor Lupin, her dad. He's sorry for anything you may have heard through the door."

Enzo grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly, "It's alright, sir. It's a pleasure to meet the men who've raised such a strong woman." Enzo smiled at you affectionately, causing you to blush in front of your family.

"Look at that, Moons. Our little star is growing up," Sirius wiped a faked fear, while Remus was holding back real ones.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose like your dad had done earlier, "Alright, who's hungry, hmm? Shall we eat?" You led Enzo towards the large table. Everyone followed suit, both Regulus and Remus grumbling slightly.

As you sat down, Enzo gave your thigh a squeeze. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, "Star, huh? That's cute." You side-eyed him, giving him a slight glare, "You tell anyone, you're a dead man."

Enzo grinned to himself, "It'd be an honor to die by your hands, love."

Across the table, Sirius gave Remus's thigh a squeeze, "She's growing up, Moons. Our little star." Remus nodded, pouring himself some brandy, "That she is, Pads. Our little wolf is a woman now." Sirius scoffed, "She still needs us though right?" Remus nodded, smiling, "We'll always be there for her."

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic | Actually I don’t really think it’s micro anymore, it kinda got away from me but shhhh | Word count: 1,250 | I’m so happy because I got to write, like… actually kinda unhinged Barty and Evan and it was fun |

-

James’s footsteps echoed off the stone floors as he walked through the castle, shadows lurking in frightening edges and around unsuspecting corners. Not for the first time, he thought of Remus and Lily, wishing he had just swallowed his sense of decency and asked one of them to accompany him on his rounds tonight. But Lily had been behind on an important essay that James couldn’t bring himself to keep her from, and Remus was still tired from the full moon two nights before. And while he supposed he could’ve asked Regulus to come, seeing as he was a prefect too, but Regulus had told him just this morning that he would be preoccupied tonight with some sort of potion that needed to be stirred at exactly at midnight tonight.

And so James had come to the conclusion that he couldn’t burden any of them by asking them to come along, because he didn’t want to keep them from doing other, more important things. But as he wandered through the dark and abandoned hallways of Hogwarts, he really wished he hadn’t been so considerate.

Just then, the slamming of a door cut through the quiet atmosphere like a bullet. James immediately drew his wand and spun on his heel, frantically searching the hallway for the cause of the sound. He found nothing except a yawning portrait on the wall, who looked disgruntled at having been woken up at this hour.

His pulse sped in his veins as he turned to a different tactic. The sound had definitely come from this corridor, so if he simply went down the hallway looking into various classrooms, he would eventually find whatever he was looking for.

Opening the different doors was its own, special form of torture. It reminded James of a Christmas gift he had received when he was younger, a beautiful box with a handle on the side. It played music as he cranked the handle, little him waiting in fearful anticipation of what would inevitably come jumping out. And there was no doubt that the scariest part of the whole experience was the uncertainty of when, exactly, the Jack-in-the-box would explode to life.

After the fourth attempt of looking into abandoned classrooms, James no longer had any desire to reach for the handle on the next door. But he forced himself to do it anyway—after all, a responsible Head Boy took his duties seriously. And although James was far from responsible, Dumbledore had appointed him to this position, and if there was one thing James didn’t want to do, it was let Albus Dumbledore down. Even if that meant he had to keep opening the doors despite his growing apprehension.

The wooden door creaked as he pushed it open, daring to call out a tentative, “Hello?”

The dim light from the hallway spilled into the room, not doing much to illuminate the space. The weak lighting of the classroom made it hard to see much of anything, but he could still make out two shadows pressed against the wall of the classroom. They were frozen in place as if keeping still would make them invisible, and James couldn’t help but think that if they were so desperate to not be caught, they shouldn’t have been so careless as to let the door slam when they entered in the first place.

He cleared his throat. “You do know that I can see you, right?”

One of the figures cursed lowly, then moved away from the wall and turned to face James, who opened the door wider to let in more of the light from the torches in the hallway. The first thing that registered in his mind was relief that both of them were fully clothed. The second was that James really should’ve asked Remus or Lily or especially Regulus to come with him, because there was no way that this situation would end well for him all by himself.

“Why, hello, hello, James Potter,” Barty Crouch Jr said, his smiling mouth at odds with his vicious eyes.

James swallowed, and his eyes flicked to the person behind Barty. He tried not to let his shock show as he realized who was standing there, still very much against the wall as if wanting to be as far away from James as possible. Evan Rosier, heir to one of the wealthiest pureblood families in Britain. His hair was mussed up like someone’s fingers had been running through it.

James felt his gaze slip back to Barty. His mouth dropped open as he put two and two together, and he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

“You two— both of you— together—” he stumbled, and then, right as it occurred to him— “Merlin, Reg doesn’t know, does he?”

Evan kept his mouth firmly shut, eyebrows turning down, but Barty took a step forward as if to divulge some important information. He lowered his voice enough that James had to strain to hear it.

“Shh,” Barty whispered, “this—” he gestured between Evan and himself— “is a secret.” Then he smiled, his teeth showing just a bit too much for it to come across as anything close to friendly.

“Which is why we aren’t going to be able to let you leave,” Evan said, finally joining in on the conversation. His voice didn’t carry much emotion, but James could still hear the threat in it just fine. But they wouldn’t do anything to him, even if it was just for Reg’s sake.

Right?

His stomach dropped out from underneath him.

“At least,” continued Evan, “we can’t let you leave without making it absolutely clear that you can’t say a word to anyone about this, ever, or…” he trailed off, and it was the small, somewhat feral twitch at the corner of his mouth that added the fearful note to James’s next question.

“Or what?” he breathed.

“Or else,” Barty said simply, and the corner of Evan’s mouth twitched again. And sweet Salazar above, every time Evan made that expression, James swore he lost another year off his life from pure fear.

How had he never before noticed just how… unhinged Regulus’s friends were?

“I won’t say anything,” James promised, hardly even registering his own words. Sure, maybe it was pathetic how fast he caved, but these two were unnerving in a way that James had never encountered before. More than that, he fully believed that they could and would make good on their threats. And besides, outing someone against their will was just a horrible thing to do in general, and James would never sink that low. Even though it did mean keeping something from Regulus, which made his stomach turn guiltily inside of him. But Barty and Evan had asked him—ordered him, more like—to keep quiet, and so he would try his best.

In the silence that followed, James prayed that they believed him and his words. Because if they didn’t… Well, let’s just say that James wasn't too keen on finding out what the “or else” entailed, exactly.

And finally, the first sign of a decision being reached came when Barty tilted his head and gave James an assessing once-over. Several beats passed like before Barty opened his mouth to speak.

“Good,” was all he said, his tone filled with an air of finality. He turned back around to face Evan, then added, “And close the door on your way out.”

And, well. James didn’t need to be told twice.

-

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

February 01 - 2 am | Jegulus | word count: 941 | @taylorswiftmicrofic

The Potter’s house has become a safe haven after years of living at Grimmauld. Not only is their home on a sprawling property in the English countryside, with the windows always open to let in fresh air and sunlight to fill every would-be dark corner, but he isn’t living in constant fear anymore. He doesn’t have to sneak around shadow-ridden corridors, memorizing where the creaky floorboards are; no longer has to strain his ears to know where the other inhabitants are at all times; no longer dreads leaving his room. Mrs. Potter made it clear that he is welcome there, as much as if he were her own son.

Tonight, he finally takes advantage of Mrs. and Mr. Potter’s insistence, and is creeping down the stairs in the dark. He isn’t afraid of being caught sneaking a midnight snack, but rather it’s a courtesy to avoid waking the others at… two am. Because of the time, he hadn’t expected anybody else about. His brother always drops dead from the moment his head hits the pillow until the sun rises. James always sleeps and wakes with the sun. And Mrs. and Mr. Potter… well, he doesn’t know much about them, but they don’t seem the kind to crave a snack in the middle of the night.

He supposes it doesn’t matter, because somebody else is awake, and very much had the same idea of getting a snack, if the smell of fried pastry is anything to go by.

Regulus freezes at the bottom of the stairs, sure whatever god is out there is laughing at him. There is music playing softly from the wireless on the counter, and James is dancing to it. Not just a slight sway or bob of his head. No, he is fully absorbed in it, hips swaying to the rhythmic beat, his body following the fluid movement all the way. James’ feet shuffle backward, then spin him to face the kettle on the stove, the whistle barely sounding before he’s plucked it from the heat. His shoulders shimmy now as he pulls a mug from the counter and sets a teabag in. He sets the kettle back down, freeing his shoulders completely. He spins around, scooping up his plate of friend deliciousness, and mug in the other hand.

It's only then that he notices Regulus, freezing in place as a blush flares across his cheeks and down his neck. “Regulus?”

For a moment, neither of them speak, both caught and reeling. Regulus caught watching, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. James caught… well, he wasn’t exactly caught doing anything wrong. So why is he still frozen in place, even as Regulus continues walking to the kitchen? He’s allowed in his own kitchen, and he’s allowed to dance if he wants to.

He slips passed James into the kitchen, indulging himself as he brushes lightly against James’ side. As he does, James curses in Spanish under his breath, followed by a hiss. Two not-so-gentle clinks sound as the plate and mug are set down on the countertop. He glances over to see James frantically wiping scalding liquid from his hand.

He hardly touched James, certainly didn’t bump into him hard enough to knock the liquid from the mug. So that would mean… sure enough, the blush that had begun to fade is back, more intense than before. It looks thoroughly painful, but James shakes himself from his stupor, and slides onto the barstool as though nothing has happened.

“You’re going to wake everybody up with that music.”

“Afraid of being seen with me? Scandalous.” He grins, setting a kaleidoscope of butterflies loose in Regulus’ stomach. The fierce blush—muted slightly by his dark skin, but still very much visible—matched with the assured grin shouldn’t look so good. But it does, because everything James does stirs something in Regulus.

“Hardly.”

He follows the same movements James did—minus the dancing of course—leaning on the counter opposite James as he waits for his favorite chamomile tea to steep.

“Chamomile? I always took you as an Earl Grey kind of person.”

“Earl Grey is good.” He agrees. “But I can’t sleep, and chamomile goes better with your sopaipillas.”

“Oh?” There are a dozen questions packed into that one word. A dozen questions that Regulus wants to know the answers too, but might just be too afraid to ask them back.

He takes a sip of his tea while he contemplates his next moves. He can simply take his tea and return to his room as planned. Or he can push. He has suspicions about James, things that have been piling up for years, only intensifying after Regulus had moved into the room across the hall. Especially tonight. When a mere touch caused him to spill his tea, or the sight of Regulus watching him dance had incapacitated him.

This could be just what he needs to put those suspicions to the test without confronting them directly. James never shares his snacks with anybody, not even Sirius, and they share everything. And yet… and yet there is a small nagging part of his brain telling him that James would share the sopaipillas, if only he asks.

Regulus rises an eyebrow in question.

James squirms. His eyes dart away, he shifts on his stool, he refuses to look him in the eye, he fiddles with the pastry in his hands, his eyes dart around the room, the blush flares. After a while, Regulus resolves himself to the rejection. Maybe he is reading too deeply into things that don’t mean anything.

Then, the plate slides across the counter.

“There’s honey on the counter behind you.”

[lowlylux]

Silver Spoons (And Butterknives)

Chapter Two | Fear of Family

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mention of blood, violence, and self harm

Word Count: 6.8k

Ship: Jegulily/Wolfstar

Description:

For a moment he wishes Sirius was there.

He closes his eyes, allowing him to accept it even as his lungs scream for him to continue fighting. He hurts…so much. It is overtaking him, drowning out the voices that continue to berate his mind. But he still cannot bring himself to fight back. His mind goes fuzzy, his consciousness beginning to lessen its hold on his body.

Yet, for a moment, he swears the pressure of the water leaves him. He swears that he is gasping for air and actually obtaining it. And, the thing that makes him fully realize that this is his mind’s last attempt to give him peace, is the mirage of his brother staring down at him, eyes widened in shock.

And just like that, Regulus finally loses consciousness.

Or…

A simple loophole ensures the survival of Regulus Black, and he is about to make it everyone’s problem.

Ao3 link

Sirius Black would love to say that the moment he saw his brother, he called for an Auror. He would love to say that he looked down at his brother’s collapsed, drenched form with nothing but hatred. But, that would simply be a lie.

He was frozen at first, not knowing if the state of his brother was simply a mirage that was taunting him. But no, Regulus was here…looking awful. The boy is barely even breathing, his small frame moving ever so slightly every few seconds. And the blood…it makes Sirius almost nauseous. Crimson liquid is pooling around the boy, accentuating the various gashes that overtake his body. The water mixes with blood, the liquid hanging onto Regulus’ form as if he were just pulled out of a lake.

“Sirius, who just…” Remus Lupin walks in only to pause, eyes tracing over the body of the younger Black brother. “What’s your brother doing on the floor?”

“I…”

Remus rushes towards the boy, not wanting to wait for his boyfriend to find his words. Sirius observes how careful Remus is, even if the person on the receiving end has treated him horribly in the past. The man is muttering under his breath, his wand softly glowing as it is pressed into the skin of the pale boy. “Sirius?”

Sirius still finds himself rather lost for words, lost for everything really. He cannot help but stare at his brother, thousands of questions circulating in his mind simultaneously. He does not even know why he is behaving like this, suddenly being reminded how many times he has told everyone around him that his brother barely existed to him. That his brother simply did not matter anymore.

But here he is, on his floor, in a far sorrier state than he has ever seen.

“Sirius, you need to call for Lily.”

“What?”

“Lily…Sirius, you need to get her here,” Remus says, still attempting to walk Sirius through the whole ordeal. The man, to his credit, is even attempting to help Regulus to not much avail. Remus has never been good at healing charms, not really anyway. He has been able to get by but these injuries require far more expertise than he actually possesses.

It is like something scratched the poor boy, deep gashes running along his leg and other extremities. Sirius shudders to think of what could have done this. What beast dared to attack his little brother?  What kind of creature could do this to Regulus without the younger Black immediately retaliating?  What could have harmed him so much that his first instinct was not to return to his home, but go to Sirius instead?  

He still has far too many questions, many of which he is sure that when Regulus does awaken, he will still not have answers to. 

He finds himself walking towards the fireplace in an almost robotic fashion. This does not feel real, he cannot shake that feeling regardless of the urgency. His hand barely even grasps the floo powder, much of it falling the moment he lifts his hand. It is like the words do not even escape his mouth, murmurs echoing in his ears. 

And suddenly he is greeted with nothing but warmth. His flat is warm, but it is like it radiates from James and Lily. Everything they touch glows with ever-lasting smiles and laughter. It is like a dream that one never wishes to wake up from, an embrace one never wishes to leave.

And it is like they produce such warmth without even noticing. To them, it is as natural as breathing. To others, it is simply an addiction. He supposes James gets it from his parents, he has to. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter should be proud of their son. And Lily…well she had no choice but to accept the warmth as it was given to her.   

It’s a nice contrast, Sirius is sure of it. He can emulate the light that James Potter and Lily Evans produce, but he can never match it. So he will merely absorb it, greedily holding onto it as if one day it will just vanish. Sirius is certain that if it were to leave him without warning he would simply cease to exist entirely. 

Maybe that is what he is trying to do when he shuffles into their flat, looking around desperately for his best friend. He wants someone to hold him, to tell him that everything will be alright. And Remus is great for that, no, he is fantastic. But Remus is busy attempting to save the one bringing this feeling of overwhelm.

“Sirius?”

“James…” Sirius mumbles out, stumbling until he collapses onto his best friend, grasping onto that light as if it were fleeting. Perhaps it is, perhaps when Sirius lifts his head and addresses James it will all disappear. They are in the middle of a war after all. He should not have expected everything to stay the same. 

“Padfoot, what’s wrong?” James asks softly, running a hand through Sirius’ hair in a manner that he knows will calm the man down. “Sirius?”

“Reg is back.” Sirius feels the moment shift. What was once a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning now is overtaken by just that feeling. James is still, staring at Sirius as if he were a spirit. “Remus says Lily should…”

“He’s hurt?” James asks suddenly, bringing Sirius to a moment of pause. But Sirius does not respond, because how could he?  How could he find the words to explain to his brother that he had not heard from him in almost two years?  “Sirius, I need you to answer me. What is going on?”

“We need to get Lily.”

“Fuck — Lily!” James shouts out in a tone Sirius barely recognizes. James does not lose his head. He has always been the grounding force, a tad more chaotic than Remus, but grounding. Yet here he is, shouting for Lily. 

Lily rushes in, red hair partly disheveled. Sirius does not know why, but the first thing he notices is that she is missing a sock. She is staring at James intently, eyes flitting towards Sirius only a few times. “What’s happened?”

“Regulus turned up.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s hurt…” Sirius mutters, taking note of how James’ hands are shaking. “Lily, please. I need my brother.”

“Okay,” Lily says with a quick breath, rushing toward a nearby table. Sirius watches as the woman rummages through the drawers, pulling out vial after vial, liquids sloshing against the glass. She is frantic, nearly dropping a few of them as she gathers them into a bag. The woman slings it over her shoulder, nodding to herself. “Okay.”

Sirius does not understand what is happening. He feels James tugging him, a strong hand pulling him toward the fireplace in a rush. He feels the heat of the fire, traveling back to his flat in a panic. He knows that they are moving, yet his understanding of it all vanishes. But Regulus is still there, looking far worse than when he left him.

Lily rushes over, pushing Remus away so that she can get a good look at the boy. “What did he even fight?” she questions, observing the wounds Regulus currently has scattered across his torn-up body. Lily raises a vial, allowing the liquid to pool out. Yet it does nothing, the wounds looking as angry as they were a few moments ago. “Fuck…Remus, can you grab me my knife?”

“What?” Sirius asks, finally finding his voice, disregarding how it sounds more akin to a toad.

Lily sends him a look of pity, grasping the knife Remus graciously grabbed for her. “It’s like the skin has already grown necrotic. Whatever he just dealt with, it was dark magic.”  Her gaze shifts away from Sirius, going back to the younger Black. She is meticulous, lining up the knife so that it will only cut what it needs to, the unaffected areas allowed to remain unblemished.

But the blade meets skin, and suddenly Regulus is awake.   The young boy thrashes, the voice of someone Sirius has not heard in far too long echoing out. He cries out, eyes widened as he desperately attempts to escape.

“Hold him down!”

Sirius finds himself wanting to step forward, wishing to himself that he could make the screaming stop. But James grabs him, holding Sirius in place just to counteract that need. Yet it remains that Sirius is just helpless in the situation. It is a rather strange feeling, to be utterly familiar with the cries of his brother. Regulus was always the one who tried to stay away from the limelight, yet he sparkled and drew attention to himself no matter the situation. It was just unfortunate that one of the people he gained attention from was their mother.

Regulus is still thrashing, blood gushing out from his cuts, a drastic difference compared to his fair skin. He is screaming incomprehensibly, and honestly, Sirius would much rather it than the reality of understanding his brother’s cries. If he could, he would block out every cry, every expression of pain that he is being forced to listen to. But he would also hate himself if he left.

He stares at Sirius with wide eyes, tears welling up as Lily continues to cut away at the injuries. Upon further observation he can see the injuries are indeed black, the skin around them slowly turning purple. It is spreading, and while it kills Sirius to admit it, she is right.

“Just a few more…” Lily murmurs, her voice nearly lost beneath the relentless, gut-wrenching screams ripping from Regulus’ throat.   Her hands tremble as the blade presses into his corrupted flesh, every fresh cut eliciting another agonized wail.   She flinches, her own body recoiling as if she can feel the pain radiating from him as if each slice of the knife is carving through her as well. 

Remus’ hold slips, just for a heartbeat.   But in moments like these, a heartbeat is enough. 

Sirius barely registers the blur of motion before him, but the gasps of shock from both Remus and Lily snap his attention to the now-empty space where Regulus had been. 

Regulus is cowering in the shadows, his body curled in on itself like a wounded animal.   His wide, glassy eyes dart between them, his chest heaving as tremors rack his frame.   Blood stains his trembling hands where he grips his knees, his breath shuddering through clenched teeth. 

“Stop…” he whispers, barely more than a breath.

“Regulus,” Lily says carefully, creeping toward the boy as if he were a caged animal. “We’re almost done, I promise.”  And Sirius knows that look, having been on the brunt end of Lily desperately attempting to help as many people as she possibly can. But he doubts even the warmest eyes can break Regulus out of what he is going through. “Regulus please.”

"At least give me something for the pain," Regulus pleads, his voice strained as he curls in on himself, his expression growing harsher with each passing second.   Sirius can’t bear it. He cannot stand the sight of his brother like this.   He instinctively tests James’ grip, noticing the momentary lapse.   And then he’s moving, his body surging forward before his mind can catch up. 

Regulus' carefully maintained facade crumbles in an instant, his eyes widening in raw, unguarded shock. 

"Sirius?"

And Sirius just pulls his brother into an embrace. His brother…his little brother, immediately falls into the hug. His hands are gripping Sirius as his heavy breathing continues to affect his entire being. It is moments like these that make Sirius starkly aware of just how much smaller his brother is. When they were younger, specifically before Hogwarts, he was always aware of that. How else would Regulus be able to cower behind his brother, hiding whenever their mother determined they were not doing a good enough job in their studies?

But then Sirius went to Hogwarts, and Regulus no longer cowered. He always stood tall, his nose pointed high as he willingly walked away, beyond Sirius’ grasp. However now…now Regulus is the same little boy who would hide behind Sirius. 

His hold is the same…

“Reg…” Sirius murmurs, resting his chin on the top of Regulus’ head. He does not know when it happened, but he is running his hands through Regulus’ hair, desperately attempting to give the man some semblance of comfort. “You have to let Lily finish.”

“I can’t…I need a potion or something, please.”

Sirius glances at Lily, taking in her shaking head before his shoulders drop. “Reg…” he murmurs, making Regulus look at him. “I don't think a pain potion is going to help. Not this time.”

“You can't just cut into me without anything!”

“You’re past the hard parts,” Lily says gently, creeping toward Regulus. “After it’s over I have multiple potions that will help, I promise.”

“How am I meant to trust you?”

“I haven't killed you yet,” she replies, her tone even. Sirius notices how her eyes keep glancing toward Regulus’ left arm. And he refuses to truly take a look. At this moment, Regulus needs him, and he knows that what he will find will anger him. Two sides of himself war with each other as one part wants to grasp Regulus’ left arm to reveal the reality that he is certain is true, while the other wants to just be a big brother.

For once, he just wants to be a brother, nothing else.

“If I don’t cut this off, Regulus, you’ll die.   Do you understand that?” Lily’s voice is unyielding, her eyes narrowing with a sharpness that cuts through the chaos of the moment.   “Do you want to die?” Her words hang in the air, the weight of them settling heavily around them.   The silence stretches, a beat of tense anticipation, before Regulus finally sighs, his face pale and strained.   He hesitates for a moment before slowly extending his arm, revealing the last of the deep, necrotic wound that Lily must tend to.   Lily’s gaze flicks to Sirius, and there’s a flash of pity in her eyes, brief but unmistakable.   “Sirius,” she says softly, but with urgency, “you need to hold him.”

“I…”

“You need to hold him down.”

“Lily I can’t-”

“Sirius, the moment I cut him, he’s going to bolt,” Lily warns, her voice sharp with urgency.   There’s no room for hesitation, no softness to cushion the truth.   And yet, she speaks as though Regulus isn’t even there, as if he’s just a fly on the wall instead of a person who can hear her every word.

“Sirius!” Lily snaps, dragging his attention back to the moment, to the blood, to the weight of what must be done. 

“Look, Pads,” James interjects, his tone softer, an anchor amidst the chaos.   He meets Lily’s gaze before kneeling beside Sirius, his steady presence grounding them both.   “I’ll help you.   Two sets of hands are better than one.”

“Absolutely not!” Regulus hisses out, now thrashing in Sirius’ hold. “You aren't touching me…”

“Reg,” James says calmly, his tone going flat as he stares down the boy. Sirius notes how Regulus, albeit reluctantly, does halt his movement. His brother glares at James for a good moment before sighing in defeat. And just like that, the light James brings feels as if it is suffocating Sirius, even if the embers are greatly dimmed due to the situation. James is attempting to smile at Regulus, gently grabbing the boy’s left arm, also refusing to really look at it. “If it starts to hurt too much, just squeeze my hand.”

Regulus scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at James’ suggestion. “Absolutely not.”

But James just hums in reply.

Lily sends an indecipherable silent look to Remus, causing the boy to jump up to rifle through her bag.   If Sirius was not preoccupied he may have looked at Remus, gotten a small look to calm his racing heart, yet he knows better than to look now.  

Lily grips the knife with a grip so tight that her fist is turning white.  “I’m sorry,” she mutters before cutting into him once more.  The reaction is immediate, Regulus is howling in pain, desperately pushing away from the blade.  Sirius tightens his grip on Regulus’ waist, ensuring he cannot move further.  The knowledge that he could be harmed further looms over Sirius, temporarily grounding him.

Regulus’ hand is almost pure white as he grips onto James’ hand as if he wishes the pain could be transferred.  But James is taking it like a champ, shouting about how Regulus is doing well.

When it is over, it is like the whole room shifts.  Lily takes the last bit of corrupted flesh in her hands, quickly burning it before taking multiple vials from Remus’ hands.  She is trembling as she brings them to Regulus, the boy staring at her with narrowed eyes.

“For the pain.”

Regulus doesn’t wait for another explanation. Without a word, he takes the potions, swallowing them in quick, deliberate gulps. His movements are swift, almost mechanical, and Sirius can barely keep up with the pace. One moment, Regulus is holding the vial, and the next, it’s empty, his hand dropping to his side like the weight of the world has settled in. His body goes limp, a sudden slackness overtaking him as his eyelids flutter, gradually sinking shut.

Sirius’ gaze darts to Lily, his mind racing for some kind of understanding. The look she gives him, being steady and quiet, speaks volumes, and in that silent exchange, something clicks. Regulus isn’t dying. He’s just falling into sleep, the potions working their magic, pulling him into a stillness that feels too final, too quiet.

Yet silence fills the room anyway.

. · ˚✧

"Are you kidding me?" Walburga’s voice tore through the tense air, sharp enough to leave invisible wounds in its wake. Sirius flinched before he could stop himself, the reaction instant, ingrained from years of her wrath.   Her eyes, wild with fury, burned into him as she stepped closer, practically pinning him against the cold, dark-paneled wall.   The sharp scent of her perfume, heavy and suffocating, mixed with the crackling tension between them. 

“A boy?” she spat, her lips curling in disgust as if the very word poisoned her tongue. 

Sirius straightened his shoulders, forcing himself to meet her glare despite the rapid hammering of his heart.   “Why does it matter who I’m dating?” he shot back, his voice tight, a thin veneer of defiance barely covering the raw frustration bubbling beneath. 

Walburga’s nostrils flared.   “It matters when you disgrace this family!” she shrieked, her voice ricocheting down the long corridor, filling every inch of Grimmauld Place with her fury.   She whirled away from him, her heavy robes billowing as she paced, hands clenched so tightly that her knuckles gleamed white.   “Where did we go wrong?” she hissed.   “Befriending blood traitors?  Romancing a half-blood, and a boy at that?” A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and humorless.   She shook her head, her teeth bared.   “Why are you so determined to ruin us?”  

Sirius’ jaw locked.   Heat prickled beneath his skin, rage simmering, begging to boil over.   “My life does not depend on our status!” he shouted, stepping forward, his hands trembling at his sides.   His chest rose and fell with each uneven breath, fury warring with something deeper, something that ached. 

Walburga scoffed, rolling her eyes as if his words were nothing more than the foolish ramblings of a child.   “It has always depended on our status,” she sneered, her voice dropping into something quiet, venomous. 

Sirius swallowed hard, his throat tight.   The weight of years, of expectations, of duty, of never being enough, pressed against his ribs.   Still, he forced the words out, his voice cracking under their weight.   “Why can’t you just be happy for me?” The unspoken for once clung to the air between them, a ghost of longing.   “I’m happy…” he muttered, barely above a whisper.   “Doesn’t that count for something?”  

His mother’s lips curled into something cold, unreadable.   “You can be happy,” she said, her tone devoid of warmth, “once you are the proper head of this family.   Once you are married to a respectable woman.”  

A bitter, humorless laugh tore from Sirius’ throat.   He shook his head, taking a slow, deliberate step backward.   “Absolutely not,” he spat.   His voice was steady, but his pulse pounded against his skull.   “I will not stand here and let you control my life.”  

Walburga’s expression hardened, her grip tightening on the folds of her dress.   For the briefest moment, something flickered in her eyes—not doubt, never doubt, but recognition.   An understanding that this, finally, was the breaking point. 

“Then leave,” she snapped. 

The words hit Sirius like a hex to the chest.   He exhaled sharply, the finality of it sinking into his bones.   He had known this was coming, of course, he had known.   But still, hearing it out loud, from her lips, from his mother…  

Something inside him fractured. 

“Fine,” he snarled, his voice raw as he spun on his heel.   He stormed up the stairs, his boots thudding against the wood, the house itself seeming to shake with the force of his steps.   His vision blurred, not with tears, never tears when in that house, but with rage, with something suffocating, something he refused to name.   He reached his room, shoved the door open, and slammed it behind him with a force that rattled the hinges. 

Time passed in a haze.   He barely registered the motions, throwing clothes into a bag. His fingers working on instinct, his brain refusing to acknowledge the reality of what he was doing.   His movements were sharp, jerky, driven by something too big to hold inside. 

He zipped the bag shut, slinging it over his shoulder. 

“You need something warmer.”  

The quiet voice startled him.   Sirius whipped around, his heart jolting at the sight of Regulus standing in the doorway.   His little brother looked smaller than usual, wide eyes locked onto him. 

“What?” Sirius breathed, his voice hoarse. 

“Something warm,” Regulus repeated, shifting his weight, his hands twisting in the fabric of his own robes.   “It’s snowing, Sirius.”  

The words slammed into him harder than Walburga’s screaming ever could. 

For the first time since the argument began, the weight of it all crashed down on him.   This was real.   He was leaving. 

But Regulus…

Sirius rushed forward, relief flaring through him.   His little brother had come to him and had not hidden away like he had feared.   “Regulus, we need to go.” His voice came out urgent, desperate, “Come with me.”

Regulus stiffened.   His expression faltered for the briefest second before he shook his head, stepping back.   “Go?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.   “I can’t… I’m not going with you.”  

The floor felt unsteady beneath Sirius’ feet.   “What?”  

Regulus swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.   His hands trembled at his sides.   “I can’t leave,” he murmured, shaking his head as though he could shake away the very idea.   “Mother would…” He stopped himself, eyes flickering downward.   “I can’t go.”  

“You’re staying here?”  

Regulus’ lips parted, but no words came out.   The answer was already written across his face. 

Sirius felt his stomach drop, the weight of it sickening.   He could handle Walburga’s hatred.   He could handle being cast out.   He could handle leaving. But that fact that Regulus chose to stay?  

That cut deeper than anything else. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Sirius said, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh as he shook his head.   “Should’ve known you’d end up just like them.”  

Regulus’ head snapped up.   His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening.   “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped, his voice rising.   “I’m not the one stupid enough to tell Mother everything about my life at Hogwarts.” He exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists.   “You saw how she reacted to you dating Lupin, but what about me?”  

Sirius froze.   Something cold slithered down his spine.   “What about you?”  

Regulus hesitated for only a second.   Then, with a quiet, clipped voice, he muttered, “I like blokes too…I think.” His eyes darted toward the door as if terrified someone else might hear.   “Happy?”  

The breath whooshed from Sirius’ lungs.   “Reg—”  

But Regulus was already pulling away, already retreating.   He turned sharply, crossing the room in swift strides.   He wrenched the door open, the wood groaning in protest. 

“Have a good time living with the Potters, Sirius,” he said, voice hollow.   He didn’t turn back.   “We both know that’s where you’re going, anyway.”  

And with that, he was gone. 

Sirius stood frozen in place, his hands limp at his sides, the weight of the moment pressing against his ribs like a vice. 

That was the moment he lost his brother. 

✧˚ · .

"Sirius…"  

A gentle hand presses against his shoulder, a barely-there touch, but even that feels like too much.  Sirius grumbles, shrugging it off, burrowing deeper into the pillow.  He scrunches his eyes shut, refusing to crack them open, unwilling to acknowledge the world beyond his self-imposed darkness.  If he stays like this, still and silent, maybe the universe will take pity on him and simply pause.  Just for a moment.  Just long enough for him to forget.   

The voice comes again, softer this time.  "Sirius, love…"  

He tenses.  His name, wrapped in that warmth, in that tenderness—it nearly undoes him.  No.  Not yet.   

"No," he mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion as he shifts away, retreating from the one thing he never wants to run from.  He doesn’t push Remus away, not really—he knows better than to risk hurting him.  But he also can’t bring himself to lean in, to open his eyes, to let reality settle its heavy hands on his shoulders.  "Remmie, please."  

The silence stretches between them, thick and expectant.  Then—  

"Regulus is awake."  

The words cut through the fog instantly.  His breath hitches, his stomach twists, and before he can stop himself, his eyes snap open.  The dim light makes them sting, but the sight of Remus—hovering just inches away, gaze cautious, voice steady—grounds him in an instant.  Sirius swallows hard, fingers twitching as they reach for him, grasping for something solid.   

"Did he talk to you?" His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.   

Remus hesitates.  That alone is an answer.  He averts his gaze, a subtle shift, but Sirius catches it, of course he does.   

"No," Remus says, too carefully.   

Liar.   

Sirius arches a brow, the look on his face sharp, expectant.  Remus exhales, shoulders dropping slightly in resignation.  His eyes flick back up to meet Sirius', softer this time.  "He...wasn’t very nice."  

Sirius lets out a short, humorless laugh.  "Is he ever?"  

Remus sighs.  "That’s why I didn’t want to mention it." His voice drops, quiet, careful.  "He’s in pain."  

Sirius presses his lips together, jaw tight.  That, he knows.  That, he understands.  But it doesn’t stop the bitterness from curling at the edges of his heart.   

"Doesn't mean he should be rude to you."  

He shifts, lacing his fingers through Remus’, his thumb sweeping over the back of his hand, slow and deliberate.  A small gesture, but one that says everything he can’t quite put into words.   

"You don’t deserve that."  

Remus exhales, his grip tightening just slightly.  "I know," he murmurs.  "But he’s your brother."  

Sirius closes his eyes for half a second.  When he opens them again, there’s something unreadable in them.   

"Yeah," he breathes.  "He is.” Sirius looks away, trying desperately to reign in his stray emotions to the best of his ability.  “I need to go in there, don’t I?”

“Preferably, yes.”

Sirius exhales, the sound heavy, weighted with everything he cannot quite say. His forehead finds Remus’, a quiet surrender, a fleeting moment of solace before the inevitable. He lingers there, eyes slipping shut as if he can will away the world beyond this touch, as if he can press pause on the relentless march of time.  

He does not want to do this.  

He does not want to step into that room, to see Regulus not as the boy he once was but as the man he became—fractured, worn, and burdened by choices Sirius was not there to stop.  He would much rather let memory soften the edges, let his mind preserve the image of a wide-eyed child clutching onto him as if nothing has changed.

Because if he walks through that door, if he faces the reality of his brother—of what remains of him—then there will be no room left for illusions, no space for the comfort of what-ifs.  

And yet, there is no choice.  There never was.  He lost that luxury the moment his brother turned up again.

“Sirius…”

Sirius opens his eyes, moving away from Remus so that he can fully take in his expression.  He finds his breath catching, the moment before him slipping from fingers before his very eyes.  Sirius cannot even speak, he knows what is about to be said.  Truthfully, he does not quite know what he can do to postpone this much further.

“You need to talk to him.”

Sirius sighs heavily for the second time tonight, biting his lip as he thinks for a moment.  “Does he have it?”  He waits for a response, tightly closing his eyes as if the answer will permanently scar him.  Because potentially it might, just not in an observable fashion.  When no answer comes, he opens them once more.  “Remmie, please…I need to know.”

Remus averts his gaze, once again refusing to look his boyfriend in the eye.  It hurts Sirius in a small, almost indescribable way.  The lack of trust in his reaction to the truth.  It is debilitating to know that Regulus is still his weakness, still the thing that causes people to walk on eggshells.  But Remus takes a moment, his fist tightening before he answers;

“Yes.”

Sirius feels his world crumble before him, any decent images of his brother shattering.  He finds himself unable to breathe, gripping his chest as he feels hot tears welling up in his eyes.  He vaguely feels Remus engulfing him in an embrace, but it does little to assist him.

He grips onto Remus’ shirt, bunching up the fabric in his hands as reality continues to rise like a skyscraper.  He is but an ant now, forced to take in a world that refuses to wait for him.  Sure he can carry far more than he should feasibly be able to, but the simple reality that he is nothing forever shapes him.

Sirius’ breathing slows, his heart rate no longer racing as the small comfort of his boyfriend being there brings far more comfort than Remus will ever know.  He forces himself to push away from Remus, taking a deep inhale that only results in hiccups.  “I need to go..”

“Sirius you can-”

“No,” Sirius says, shaking his head as he forces himself to his feet.  “I need to talk to him.  Make sure he's not dead before I kill him.”

“You’re not going to kill your brother.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Sirius mutters, yanking the door of their room open.  He storms in, head held high as he glares at Regulus, only to falter immediately.  

Regulus lies motionless on the bed, his body wrapped in bandages that bear the faintest stains of crimson.  The stark white cloth stands in sharp contrast against his pallid skin, each strip of fabric a quiet testament to the pain endured.  If Sirius let himself, he could map them out, trace each injury with his eyes, and align them with the memories that haunt him.  He could tell which came first, which had been the worst, which had been the cause of specific screeches.  But he doesn’t.  Because it doesn’t matter. Because the outcome is the same.  

Regulus stares at the ceiling, his expression blank, unreadable.  He does not shift, does not flinch, does not even offer Sirius the courtesy of acknowledgment.  And somehow, that burns more than if he had spat venom at him, more than if he had turned his head and glared with all the contempt Sirius knows is still buried inside him.  Silence should be empty, but this…it is suffocating.  

Sirius exhales sharply, barely restraining himself from crossing the room in three quick strides and shaking Regulus by the shoulders, forcing something…anything…out of him. 

“Lupin told you?”  

Regulus finally moves, just enough to shift his gaze from the ceiling to Sirius.  His eyes are dull, rimmed with exhaustion so deep it might never leave him.  

“I already knew.”  The words barely pass Sirius’ lips before he hears it, that small, imperceptible crack in his voice.  He stiffens, as though bracing for the impact of sharp words, yet the hit never comes.  He should have been prepared for this, should have steeled himself for the sight that meets him when his gaze flickers downward.  And yet, he isn't.  

His eyes land on Regulus’ left forearm, and there it is, the mark, dark and unrelenting, branding him in a way no wound ever could.  The ink twists across his skin like a parasite, its black tendrils writhing against his pale flesh.  It should look angry, inflamed as if it had seared itself into him with unbearable heat. But the skin around it is eerily unscathed, devoid of redness, or irritation.  Sirius expects pain, expects proof of suffering. But there is none, only that hollow, suffocating silence.  

Still, the mark feels alive. It demands to be seen, to be recognized, to be feared.  It does not bleed, nor does it bruise, yet it howls all the same, a quiet, ceaseless scream etched into his brother’s skin.  

“I tried cutting it off the second day I had it.”  

Sirius' stomach turns violently, but his voice remains steady and sharp. “And Walburga let you?”  

Regulus lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “She doesn’t know,” he mutters, his tone brittle, cracking under the weight of something Sirius can’t quite place. “Father did. And he made sure I wouldn’t try again.”  

His eyes slip shut for a moment, as though the memory itself is enough to cause pain.  And for all that Sirius has hated him, resented him for staying, for choosing the family Sirius ran from, he cannot ignore the way his chest clenches at the sight of Regulus like this.  Worn thin, like parchment stretched too far, like something fragile that has already begun to break.  

A beat of silence lingers between them before Regulus lets out a breath, forcing his voice back into something steadier, something bordering on nonchalance. “I’m surprised Evans didn’t try to take my arm off.”  

Sirius snorts, though there is no real humor in it. “Well, Lily’s a good person.”  

Regulus nods faintly. “I know that.”  

“Why are you here?”

“I didn't choose it,” Regulus mutters, forcing himself to sit up.  He hisses, clutching his stomach.  The younger boy raises a hand, glaring at Sirius before he can even comprehend the idea of helping him.  “Kreacher found a loophole.”

Sirius finds his brows furrowing, staring at his brother as if he had grown two heads.  Perhaps that would be easier to understand.  “I don't understand.”

“I told him to leave me there…if it wasn't for me being daft enough to order him to ignore me once I entered that cave I would be…” Regulus trails off, eyes widening as if remembering something.  His gaze snaps to Sirius, stormy eyes swirling with emotions Sirius cannot pick up on.  “Where’s the locket?”

“Excuse me?”

“The locket!” Regulus says rather loudly, forcing himself up.  He collapses on the ground, screaming out in pain as his joints audibly crack at the impact.  Sirius finds himself rushing to him, eager to help him.  “Don’t touch me!”

Sirius straightens his back, stepping away from his brother.   “Regulus, you need help.”

“I need that locket!  Where…” Regulus mutters, voice cracking as he stares up at Sirius with wide glassy eyes.  “Don’t tell me I left it there.”

“You need to get back in bed,” Sirius says, his voice tight as he observes his brother like he is a wounded animal.  He knows Regulus hates the pity, yet he cannot bring himself to wipe his expression.  “Reg please.”

“Just get out…” Regulus says, tears fully falling now.  He is shaking, resembling a leaf pushed by the autumn winds.  He is muttering things that Sirius cannot decipher, and truly he does not believe himself to be worthy of those thoughts.  “Go.”

Sirius inhales deeply, the air sharp in his lungs, as if he’s trying to breathe through a wall of thick fog.  His eyes flick to the doorway for a moment, his mind still tangled in the chaos he’s just left behind.  He nods to no one in particular, a gesture that feels more like surrender than agreement, and slowly turns, stepping out into the hallway. 

Remus is waiting there, just as he always is.  Ready to catch him, should he fall. But it’s not just his hands that reach out…his presence is a quiet comfort, like a soft blanket on a cold night, the promise that Sirius doesn’t have to face this alone.  The weight of their shared history presses down on Sirius’ shoulders, but he doesn’t need to speak to feel the understanding that hangs between them.

Whispers of praise, soft and undeserved, drift toward Sirius, small murmurs that try to lift him out of his spiraling thoughts.  But he knows better than to listen.  They’re like fleeting smoke, dissolving the moment they touch his ears, and they do nothing to erase the thick, suffocating reality of the world he’s trapped in.

“He needs more potions, I think,” Sirius mutters, his voice small, like it doesn't quite matter. 

But before he can fully succumb to the weight of the moment, Lily’s voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and direct, like a blade that doesn’t ask for permission.

“He’s maxed out on them for now.” 

Sirius looks up, meeting her eyes.  She leans against James, her posture weary, but there’s still a sharpness to her gaze that doesn’t belong in a person who’s been awake for so long.  Her words hang in the air like smoke, thick with an edge of bitterness. “He’s lucky I didn’t cut his arm off after seeing that mark. Would’ve served him right.”

Sirius knows better than to argue, though the anger in her words pricks at him.  Regulus specifically aligned himself with a group that despises her very existence, but even so she won’t let her emotions cloud her judgment.  But still…her words sting.

“Lils—”

But Sirius interrupts, his voice bitter, tinged with something darker. "He said the same thing," he says, a humorless smile curling on his lips.  It falters as quickly as it came, his expression dropping into something colder.  He sweeps his gaze around the room, his eyes landing on each of them like he’s seeing them for the first time. "What are we going to do with him?”

James furrows his brows at the question, his eyes narrowing as if trying to puzzle out something he can’t quite make sense of. “What do you mean?”

Sirius looks toward the door again, as if Regulus might be standing there, listening.  His voice lowers, quieter, as if even the walls are enemies now. “We don’t have the room to keep him here long term.” He says it as if the weight of the words might crush him, because in some ways, it does. “And taking him to St. Mungo’s... it’ll raise too many questions, especially with that Dark Mark on his arm.” The words hang between them, heavy and foreboding, and for a moment, the silence is deafening.

James glances over at Lily, who looks back at him, a silent conversation passing between them, before James speaks up, his voice tentative but edged with an idea that he isn’t sure is fully formed. “We could take him…”

Sirius' eyes widen, the shock in them clear as he steps back, instinctively recoiling from the thought like it’s something too dangerous to touch. “What?” he asks, disbelief coloring his voice.

01 << >>03

Masterlist

[bradleysass]

The Snare of the Stag Pt 2 - @leeny-leens - word count: 949 - Sorta Starchaser in the making

The silence in the corridor was suffocating. Regulus could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as James’s grip on his robes tightened. The usually polished Gryffindor golden boy looked entirely unhinged, his breath ragged, his glasses reflecting the flickering light from the torches on the walls.

“You’re pathetic,” Regulus hissed, his voice trembling despite his effort to sound composed. “Obsessing over me because you can’t have Sirius anymore? Is that it? He’s done with you, so now you—”

James’s hand shot up, slamming against the wall beside Regulus’s head. The sound echoed down the corridor, making Regulus flinch.

“Don’t,” James said, his voice low and dangerous, “bring Sirius into this.”

For a fleeting moment, fear flickered in Regulus’s chest, but he forced himself to meet James’s wild gaze. “Why not? Isn’t that what this is about? Living in his shadow, trying to control everyone around you because you can’t control him?”

James’s lips curled into a grin, but there was no humor in it. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Always playing the part of the perfect Black heir, doing what your family wants, pretending you’re not already drowning in it.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I see you. I see everything.”

Regulus shoved at James’s chest, his wand slipping between them. “Get off me.”

James stepped back, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, Reg. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Help me?” Regulus snapped, his voice sharp. “You’re delusional.”

James tilted his head, studying Regulus as though he were a puzzle to be solved. “Maybe. But you don’t understand yet, do you? What it’s like to be consumed by something? To feel it burning inside you until there’s nothing else left?”

Regulus’s stomach twisted at the intensity in James’s voice. He tightened his grip on his wand, taking a step back. “You need to stay away from me, Potter.”

James smirked, but there was something cold in his expression now, something calculating. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but we both know the truth. You’re just like me. And sooner or later, you’re going to realize it.”

Before Regulus could respond, James turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. Regulus stood frozen, his heart racing, the weight of James’s words pressing down on him like a heavy stone.

The encounter left Regulus rattled, but he refused to let it show. He threw himself into his studies, his Quidditch matches, anything to distract himself from the gnawing unease that had taken root in his mind. But James was always there, lurking at the edges of his vision. In the Great Hall, during Quidditch practices, even in the library where Regulus sought refuge late at night.

It wasn’t always direct. Sometimes it was just a glance across the room, or the feeling of being watched. Other times, James made his presence known in more unsettling ways. A crumpled piece of parchment left on Regulus’s desk in the library, filled with cryptic, rambling notes in James’s messy handwriting:

"You’re hiding something. I’ll find it. I’ll understand you."

Or a Quidditch practice where James collided with him midair, sending them both spiraling to the ground. Regulus had been furious, accusing James of sabotage, but James only grinned and offered him a hand up.

“Just trying to get closer to you,” he’d said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Regulus’s paranoia grew with every passing day. He started avoiding empty corridors, refusing to stay out past curfew, but it didn’t matter. James always found him. And the worst part? No one else seemed to notice. To everyone else, James was still the charming, heroic Gryffindor. The idea that he could be anything else was unthinkable.

But Regulus knew the truth.

It happened on a cold, stormy night in December. Regulus was returning from a meeting with the Death Eaters—an initiation task he couldn’t refuse without risking his family’s wrath. His mind was heavy with the weight of his double life, the fear and guilt gnawing at him like a persistent parasite.

He didn’t notice the figure waiting for him in the shadows until it was too late.

“Late night, Reg?” James’s voice drawled, smooth and casual.

Regulus spun around, his wand already in hand. “What the hell are you doing here?”

James stepped out of the shadows, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. But there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“None of your business,” Regulus snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

James tilted his head, his grin widening. “You’ve been busy lately. Slipping off into the night, keeping secrets. It’s almost like you don’t trust me.”

Regulus glared at him. “Why would I?”

James’s grin faltered, just for a moment, replaced by something darker. He took a step closer, and Regulus instinctively raised his wand.

“Stay back,” Regulus warned.

James stopped, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “You think you can keep hiding, keep pretending. But I know you, Regulus. I know what you’re capable of. And you can’t run from it forever.”

Regulus’s grip on his wand tightened. “You’re insane.”

James laughed, a wild, unhinged sound that sent chills down Regulus’s spine. “Maybe. But at least I’m honest about it. Can you say the same?”

Regulus didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and ran, the sound of James’s laughter echoing behind him like a haunting melody.

The game had begun. And Regulus knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t end until one of them broke.

[noblehouseofgay]

Wolves

Jegulus and wolfstar microfic

Based on this post

Werewolf remus and james

Human black brothers

Fluff

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The dim lights in the bar made it hard to see, but the brother's didn't need more light to know exactly who each had their eyes on.

One tall sandy haired boy, with scars across his arms and face. And one dark messy haired boy, with round glasses framing his face perfectly.

"Tall one's mine." "Fine by me." The brothers split off, each to catch their prey, or become prey, they weren't picky.

Regulus walked towards the boy with glasses. He was tall, and had a smile that be from the devil himself. When the boy noticed Regulus, his smirk revealed fangs. Call him fucked in the head, but this just made him hotter.

"I've been wondering when you'd come over." The boy leaned on a table near them, a hand sweeping across Regulus' cheek gently. "I was hoping you'd make a move first, but it seems I have to do everything around here." Regulus quipped.

The boy tucked Regulus' hair aside. "Oh believe me, if I have a say in it, you won't need to do anything at all, baby." The boy leaned in. "You can call me James."

~~~

The night went on, both brothers enjoying every second. But all good things must end, and the brothers had to leave. They walked out the back door into an alley, talking about the two guys they had met.

The second the door shut behind them, someone grabbed Regulus from behind. "Reggi-" Sirius was grabbed next. "GET OFF US!-" They kicked and fought but to no avail.

Luckily for them, their new suitors came out the door at the perfect time. James and his friend were immediately ready to fight.

Their eyes almost seemed to glow a yellowish tone, but before Regulus could comprehend it, both boys were gone and replaced was giant wolves. One dark brown, one a sandy tan.

The wolves leapt at the attackers, freeing the brothers, frozen in place and watching the scene before them. One by one the men are thrown against walls and pounced on, all unconscious or dead.

The wolves turn back into the boys they recognize. "Remus-" Sirius immediately runs and hugs his date, while Regulus can only stare at James.

James carefully walks over. "Are you alright?" He spoke gentler than Regulus had heard all night. "I'm fine as I can be." James brought a hand up near Regulus' cheek, pausing to ask for permission. Regulus nodded and James rough hand held him lightly. "We smelled you both in fear, so we came as soon as we could." Regulus raised an eyebrow. "You're so lucky all of this makes me think you're even hotter than you were." Crimson painted James' cheeks, he laughed. "You into werewolves, love?" "I could be."

James' smile became soft. "I'm just glad you're alright, can't let anything happen to you before I've even had the chance to ask you on a date." "Well I could still get hurt, you should probably hurry up and ask." James laughed again. "Would you like to go on a date with me, Regulus?" Regulus' cheeks went pink, trying to hide a smile. "I would." James leaned down and kissed his nose. "Lucky me."

[silverameco]

do you ever think about Narcissa, that forever frozen queen, the one who said nothing about her fucked up family, who said nothing when her big sister left, nor when her husband became a trusted de, when Regulus betrayed their side and disappeared forever, when her other sister tortured Alice, when her son became a wannabe de and was used as a test for their loyalty, do you ever think about how she finally stood up in that forest and said "dead" only because she had the reassurance her son was alive ? do you ever think about how she was always full of fear and yet her love and gratitude gave her that final word of braveness ? because i do

[butterli5]

Pandalily but as Achilles and Patroclus. Lily saves the Wizarding world and Pandora has to watch her sacrifice herself in the process.

Pandora is a seer of some sort, she sees people's fate by touch, the first time it happened it was with her brother Evan. She tried to convince herself it wasn't true, that it was some sort of unrational fear of losing her only sibling and her other half. Evan always hugged her after the bad nightmares, reassuring her that he'll never leave her, that he'll be always there to protect her.

She never has any friends as she grows up because she can't bear the idea of the weight a stray touch could bring her. But through the years at Hogwarts, she makes a friend without even trying to. They sit in silence in the astronomy tower, close but never touching, he doesn't like people invading his space and she can't however much she'd like to hug him whenever she sees his eyes welling up on some days, they begin to talk and talk, she eventually tells him and he doesn't look at her like she is a liar or a freak. The next day he brings her a pair of white silk gloves to wear, and he clutches her hand tight as she cries.

The she gets paired with a girl with eyes the color of bright emeralds shining under the sunlight, her red flaming hair swaying with the wind as she reaches for one ingredient or another for their potion. She smiles at Pandora the first day they're assigned together, and she only looks once at the gloves on her hands. She knew she was a goner the first time she laid eyes on Lily, and she also knew the girl was a forbidden flower Pandora was never meant to pluck, only watching it from afar unless she wanted to unleash the wrath of the earth. But she comes to her, and love her Pandora does, and she does not have to have the help of a measly touch to know that she will reach for the garden's most possessed jewel.

Lily kisses her, and she sees it all. Not just their ephemeral and juvenile love but she sees green light painting the sky and a child's wails that never stop haunting her ears. And for once in her life she clings to the last shreds of mortal humanity she has, she clings to the naive hope that she can challenge the wheel of fate, that she could cut the strings playing with the people she loves. They are happy, oh so happy, and she thinks if she loves Lily enough, she would not leave her for someone else, for if she doesn't there will be no green or piercing wails. She just has to love her enough to will her to life.

It turns out she can't, as much as she wants to open her heart and let it bleed and become one with the salt in the sea, to fill oceans and let the excess flood the earth, she can't love someone enough to let them stay. She falls down to the ground and holds lily's hands in her own, she begs her not to go, not to join the good side and for once choose her, choose life.

Don't go to Troy she screams, but she watches her walk down the aile to intertwine her fringers with another, every step stealing her away to the other side where a grimm reaper stands.

At least she has Regulus, he holds her cloth covered hands as she weeps, as she becomes a shell of herself he tethers her to the earth. Evan is also there, he promised he would never leave. She has them, and it might be enough, they might not fill the Lily shaped hole in her heart but they will be the warmth surrounding it.

First it is her baby brother who breaks a promise.

Then it's a black haired boy whom she had never even known the warmth of his touch.

And then she looks up to the sky one night and she sees the green she had loved years ago morph ito the coldest and scariest thing she has ever felt.

They all leave.

One by one they fall to the ground and Pandora is left alone, her hands cold and her heart forever frozen.

[autistpride]

Check Yes Regulus

Jegulus oneshot.

Word count: 2136

No archive warnings. Slight angst. Mentions of Walburgas A+ parenting. HEA.

Based on the song Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings.

Also found on my AO3. :)

James has picked his clothing carefully that evening. Dark muggle denims, soft grey jumper, and a coat he was very much glad for over top. As England is wont to do, the minute he needed to go stand outside, it started pissing rain. He was grateful for the coat's hood and the umbrella charm keeping him mostly dry.

The rain also provided cover. Very few people were out due to the weather and the ones who were paid no mind to anyone else around them, everyone in a hurry to get to their warm and dry destinations as quickly as possible.

If anyone was paying attention, they would have noticed that James wasn't in fact heading anywhere. He was good at making himself look busy due to years of practice when mischief making with the marauders in school. It took a special skill to be able to look like you weren't up to anything, while in fact standing watch and not actually doing anything but waiting and killing time. But James had perfected it.

He refused to leave. He made a promise and James was a man of his word. James would stand there all day and all night if that's what it took.

He glanced down, a shocked expression on his face, to notice his shoe untied. James made a slow effort to crouch down and tie it without getting his trousers wet. Or so it would appear to the house elf that was closing the drapes of the house across the street squeezed in between numbers eleven and thirteen of Grimmauld Place.

James used the brief moment after retying his shoe to look up through his lashes at the house. Long after the drapes were all shut and the lights of the house snuffed out, James smiled and slowly crept his way to the pavement. When he was just outside the house he reached into his pocket and began lobbing pebbles at the window to the left of the entrance.

James also perfected other things in his time at Hogwarts. But of all the things he was proud of doing, he was most accomplished in annoying and winning the trust and affection of the youngest member of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. He carefully tossed another and another, tiny pings echoing out at a random interval to those who didn't know.

To those who weren't Regulus.

James, in one of his hyper fixated moments, learned Morse code and had softly tapped out things when he was anxious or excited. It actually helped calm him or stilled him when he couldn't stim loudly. He hadn't realized he wasn't being discreet until one day he was tapping out his biggest secret on the palm of Regulus' hand under the table at the library, and Regulus slowly tapped back.

“I love you too"

Oh the way James had gasped when that happened before looking at Regulus to ask if he meant it. Regulus inclined his head and raised an eyebrow ever so gracefully, smug. James had cheered and danced around so loudly in excitement he drew the attention of the stern Miss Pince. His actioned earned him a hushed scolding, a smack to the back of the head, and three days detention. It was worth it.

James threw stone after stone. One fast, three more evenly spaced before waiting a few seconds and repeating the process over again. He wouldn't stop, they were not turning back. Tonight would be the night.

James started to notice things every time school returned following summer and winter holidays. The haunted look in both boys' eyes was telling. How Dumbledore, McGonagall, or professors never figured it out or did anything, he didn't know. But his fear and anger at the Black brothers' parents grew.

A soft yellow glow suddenly formed in the window and James smirked. He tossed the last two of the pattern and then blew on his hands to warm up his frozen fingers. Moments later, the curtain moved just enough for Regulus to peek out and James saw his eyes widen in surprise before he pulled them back all the way and worked the latch on the window pane. Regulus tapped the wooden paneling outside the window, short long long five short and two more long sounds echoing down to James. He may be limited on vocabulary but James knew if he could talk, a snarky “What the hell are you doing here Potter?" would fall from Regulus’ lips in a hissed whisper. His eyes conveyed relief and joy at seeing him even though his mouth was set in a tight grim line.

After winter holidays when Sirius had returned to school limping and covered in bruises and obviously drugged, James had noticed Regulus becoming more anxious. He slowly stopped speaking and even stopped tapping out things to James.

Everyone told him he was overreacting, but James knew. James knew something was wrong and patiently waited. Which was a great feat in itself to anyone who knew James.

James finally confided in his parents, begging for help and they sadly told James they had already reported the parents to the ministry and there was nothing more they could do. Effie explained to James with frustrated tears in her eyes that they would be welcome in the Potter house, but unless they ran away thus giving up their family name and becoming nameless, then it was a matter for the head of the family and her hands were tied.

“Are you with me?” James asked barely above a whisper, his face solemn.

Regulus glanced over his shoulder quickly and then looked back at James. Regulus chewed on his bottom lip like he always did when he was thinking, something that James found endearing, before visibly nodding his head.

The sweltering hot day the following summer Regulus showed up on his parents doorstep with Sirius barely clinging to life, all concerns for the slowly withdrawing affection vanished as he took in his best friends limp form. While his mum worked tirelessly to stop the bleeding, Regulus stood holding Sirius' hand sobbing. When Regulus had flinched from James as tried to comfort the teen, James couldn't be patient any longer.

James carefully dragged Regulus to the front porch that wrapped around the house and sat silently until Regulu finally opened up and confirmed James' worst fear. The horrible people that brought the two brightest stars in his universe to life, were quickly trying to snuff out not one but both of them.

James had raged and paced, hands tangled tightly in his own curls as he cried and screamed. Knowing that after the summer, the dark ink would mar the skin of someone he loved, a stark contrast against the milky expanse that currently was Regulus' bare forearm.

Regulus tapped out another word and James glared at the front door before nodding. They changed the locks and the wards in an attempt to keep Regulus in and Sirius from ever returning to his family home. James knew all Sirius’ possessions would have been either banished to their attic or destroyed and his heart ached for his friend.

Regulus had silently wept in James' arms before silently whispering, “We aren't meant to be” before withdrawing out of James' embrace and turning his back to James. James, like the hot headed emotional idiot he was, had believed him for a moment. His heart shattering into a million pieces and his blood simmering in his veins. A sarcastic degrading remark sat on the tip of his tongue ready to be spat at the younger boy before he noticed that unconsciously Regulus was tapping the railing.

James took a deep breath, looking around him before he held out his arms in a gesture of, “I’ll catch you”. Regulus looked at him like he had lost his mind and shook his head no fiercely, glancing back over his shoulder in fear before holding up his hands and nodding to tell James “okay, but hold on.”

“You may soon have your body stolen, but what of your heart?” James asked as he stepped up next to Regulus at the balcony in a tone that he knew was laced with hope.

“My heart is my own, yet it is not mine to give away,” Regulus replied as his eyes were fixed on his hands gripping white knuckles to the railing, “You see, it's always belonged to someone else. So it is his to do with it as he wishes”

James felt like flying, like cheering loudly, but instead placed his hand gently on top of Regulus' and tapped out “I love you too" and stared silently at the stars above their heads.

Regulus disappeared from the window, taking the light with him. James waited, putting his hands back in his pockets to warm them. The rain had slowed and a fine mist fell around him. James fidgeted with the pebbles still in his pocket and shifted on his feet. When he couldn’t stand the anxious thoughts beginning to spiral he would check his watch. The minutes ticked by, first two and then ten. James was breathing heavily and fighting the urge to storm up to the door, knowing it would hex him if he even tried and therefore be pointless. Finally after twenty minutes Regulus appeared back in the window.

Regulus explained in great detail what occurred that night to both him and his parents while Sirius slept. James pleaded with him to just not go back. Stay there, but James knew it was a fight he wouldn’t win.

"I know they will try, but don't give them the chance. Don't let them tear us apart Reg. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Regulus had smiled and whispered back, “mine for the taking?” which prompted James to smile and nod.

Regulus’ eyes darted and for someone usually so cautious James was surprised and jumped upright letting out a gasp when Regulus quickly threw his legs through the window to sit on the ledge. Regulus had changed into warm clothes, a hat pulled on his head and scarf wrapped haphazardly around his neck. A single bag was strapped to his back as he looked over his knees and down at James. James could see that despite looking prepared and put together, he hadn’t bothered to put on his shoes. James face showed his confusion until Regulus looked back over his shoulder suddenly and James felt a surge of panic and the front light turned on. 

Regulus walked away from him that night to return to the oppressive house and the family that haunted the inside following quick hugs and whispered words of “I love you” from James.

James went back inside to care for his best friend, wishing and wanting more than anything that both brothers could stay. He waited and planned and when Sirius woke and told him the date of Regulus was to be inducted, James' decision was made for him.

“Reggie!” James called quietly pulling Regulus’ attention away from the commotion in the house as all the lights began turning on. “On three,” He said and counted down. “Three, two, one”.

Regulus pushed himself off the ledge and fell into James’ arms. James’ knees threatened to buckle with the sudden weight but managed to keep them upright.

“Lace up your shoes, Reg. We have to go!” James said quickly.

Regulus slid the shoes onto his feet and began to tie them quickly. James growled as the front door opened and stepped in front of Regulus to cast a protego maxima. Hexes and curses flew at them, but James held the shield. When Regulus was finally able, he stood and started to pull James with him across the street to put distance between them and Orion Black.

The sound of Walburga could be heard shrieking from inside the house about the blood traitor and how he was stealing another one of her sons. James took Regulus’ hand and dropped the spell yelling, “Run baby run! Don’t look back!”

They ran, hands clasped together tightly. Both stumbling and chests heaving but they didn't speak. The only sound was the soles of their shoes hitting the pavement and the shouts of death eaters behind them giving chase.

James didn’t feel bad for stealing the broom from the unsuspecting wizard walking past them. James mounted it and Regulus didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around James’ waist. James kicked off hard and they shot high up into the sky.

After a half hour of flying in silence James felt Regulus shaking behind him. James worried Regulus was crying, until the sound of Regulus' laughter filled the air. James let out a loud whoop of his own at their narrow escape. 

James flew through the night, Regulus at his side. 

[deejaybear]

echos of the past

characters: sirius black, regulus black, walburga black, dementors

warnings / tags: angst, child abuse, PTSD (flashbacks/hallucianations) & azkaban

wordcount: 787

summery: in azkaban, Sirius is haunted by memories of his past

“Regulus?” Sirius muttered in confusion. It was him—Sirius would swear it was him—sitting in the corner of his cell in Azkaban. But to be honest, Sirius would swear on a lot of things nowadays. The hallucinations had gotten worse, the flashbacks too. He couldn’t tell when they stopped—if they ever did, that is. It all felt jumbled in his head, but he knew one thing: it was bad. Worse than bad. It was his worst memories haunting him.

The dementor's rattling breath echoed down the corridor beside his cell. It was at times like these, when he could hear the worse-than-death creatures before they approached, that being an Animagus helped him in prison. Though the sound to others was like the call of death, to Sirius, it was better than when they seemed to come out of nowhere and plunge him into his most painful memories. Dementors can’t register animals the way they do humans, so when he transformed into his Animagus form, he went undetected by the creatures guarding Azkaban. These were the few opportunities Sirius had to escape the horrific flashbacks he was condemned to.

The only catch was that if the dementors suspected he wasn’t in his cell, someone more conscious would probably check on him. And if they found out he was an illegal Animagus, Merlin knows what they’d do to him. So he only transformed when he heard them coming, and he went right back as soon as he believed the coast was clear.

However, dementors can be so quiet sometimes that it feels like they're not even there. Lately, Sirius had been evading their punishments too often for their liking. All went quiet in the cells of Azkaban, making Sirius think the coast was clear. But when he transformed out of his Animagus form, before he could even take a breath, he was consumed by another flashback:

He was back in the Black family house, looking through a barely open door into a dimly lit room. His semi-long hair was getting into his eyes. The only two people in the room were Regulus and his mother. Walburga Black was shouting at Regulus, whose head was faced toward the ground, fear soaking his features and causing him to shake slightly. Sirius watched as streaks of tears fell down his baby brother’s face. She was ranting about something or other—probably that Regulus wasn’t meeting his duties as a “proper” Black. Her hand reached for her wand, and with that, Sirius had had more than enough. He burst through the door, shouting, “Leave him alone, you twisted old hag!”

Walburga turned to face her oldest son, her face stone-cold, her eyes full of hatred burning into Sirius. Regulus made a sort of whimpering sound, re-alerting Walburga to his presence. Her eyes darted to him.

“Get out of my sight,” she spat.

“Mother—” Regulus attempted, his voice shaking as much as he was.

“I will not ask you again, Regulus!” Her voice was raised, her tone sharp.

Solemnly, Regulus walked away from the two, leaving the room.

“Do you think you can just come in here and disgrace our family honor?” Her icy words cut through the air like a knife.

Still standing strong, Sirius bit back, his voice full of defiance, “Who said I couldn’t?”

Walburga pulled out her wand, raising it to Sirius so fast he couldn’t react. Her voice was clear and commanding as she screamed, “Crucio!” A jet of red light erupted from the tip of her wand, hitting Sirius square in the chest. He fell to his knees, pain consuming him instantly. It wasn’t the first time his mother had used this spell on him, but he would never get used to the indescribable agony. Tears formed in his eyes and fell down his cheeks within seconds. His arms felt frozen at his sides, his head flung back and his face grimacing as he let out a blood-curdling scream.

Sirius's world faded around him, pain echoing in every inch of his body. His eyes, which had been screwed shut, opened as he was pulled back into reality. The daylight pierced his eyes, and his head throbbed, as it usually did after a flashback. Regulus was no longer sitting in the corner. He was back to being alone, stirring in his grief, with voices echoing in his head—things like, “Why could you protect me when we were kids, but not when I needed you most? What changed, Sirius?” and “You are a stain on this family’s name.”

Sirius's mind, which was still pounding, had been pushed to exhaustion. He began to drift off to sleep, his eyes fluttering shut, his world fading into still darkness as his mind slowly shut down.

notes: hi, i know ive not posted in a while but its cause im struggeling with finding ideas of fics to write :( so any ideas for marauders or rwrb are welcome! i hope you emjoyed (if you did check out my other fics) (my masterlist) (my A03)

also im kinda thinking to turn this into a series of flashbacks throughout sirius’s azkaban experience maybe finishing with a nightmare after he escapes and then is comforted by remus so if you want that pls say