#actually regulus you died in a small body of water

[justafandomgirly]

Regulus: I feel like saying I’ll kill myself gets way more of a reaction than saying I’ll drown myself even though the two end basically in the same way

James: You need therapy

Regulus: I need a large body of water

James: Reggie NO

[kohanayaki]

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2   CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom. 

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!���

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had  a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.  

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1977  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

“Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1978   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius @pan-pride-12​

[oingo233]

The Beast Who Cried Man Ch2 (Beauty & The Beast AU)

Summary: People are dying in the small village of Pivot; your home. Murders are becoming more common than not, and no one can find out why. The danger seems to only grow with each passing day. In a town controlled by fear, your people blame the mystery man who lives in the castle miles into the woods. You’ve all heard the low moans of agony coming from the house and flashes of green and bright lights…you’ve all seen the magic. The villagers call him The Beast. One day, when picking flowers and apples for your family you stumble upon a body. The town gathers in a panic, deciding that the only solution would be human sacrifice to mollify the beast himself. As you were the one to find the bodies, deemed bad luck, you are sent off into the woods to meet this beast…

Regulus Black x reader (reader is neutral)

*Part One*Part Two*Part Three*

Warnings: cussing, mobs, angst, this is like my least fav chapter of the series (I say as if I've already written the rest-)

Authors Note: I know things have been a bit slow burn but I promise it's going to speed up the next couple of chapters and I am really, really excited for what I have planned and on meshing the HP world, and beauty and the beast into this fic. So please enjoy! Feedback and comments are always appreciated. And if I used anything too descriptive of the characters identity, please let me know so I can change it, I want the reader to be as inclusive/neutral as possible.

Word Count: 2.5k

Chapter Two

Kreachers of The Night

It’s funny how time seems to laugh at you and speed up at all the moments you wish it’d stop completely. This was one of those moments.

The towns small jail was cold and moldy, murky drops of water dripping every few minutes from a leak in the ceiling. I couldn't decide whether the tap, tap, tapping of the droplets were keeping me sane or driving me over the edge. But I did know that without any sound at all I’d get lost in the silence.

The jailer was a stout woman, Mauren, always kind and fierce and always at every festival. She had the prettiest voice out of us all. She would take care of me at times where my parents needed the help and she’d bring us bones for broth when my sister or I grew sick. But now… now her voice was trapped in the awkward air between us. She couldn’t even speak to me as she kept her gaze to the single window, the beginning of a beautiful sunset starting to glimmer through.

It was almost time.

“Please,” I begged for the hundredth time, she only screwed her eyes shut and ignored me. “Please don’t let them have me,” I nearly sobbed, “I’m not what they say I am. I’m not bad luck, I’m-” the words died in my throat as she began to hum to herself, there was truly nothing else I could say. So instead I got up and wrapped my hands around the rusted bars of the cell. I shook back and forth like a mad man, rattling the entire building when it actually was hardly causing a creak in the floorboard beneath me. But it felt nice, to let go and go from begging to just being mad.

“This isn’t right!” I yelled. “Stop humming and listen to me!” But it was to no avail, she only began to hum her song louder. But someone did answer me, and the voice was so much worse than the rude hums of Maruen.

“Baby!” rang my mothers voice, half hysterical and half hard as stone. Rage and despair carried on a soundwave. “My baby!” she wailed again. I heard some gruff voices and then some sort of hustle, I knew she was trying to get in, they would not let her.

“(Y/N)! Don’t….dont worry!” called the voice of my sister. Tears pricked my eyes at the sound of my father grunting and then a loud clash. They were fighting the guards. Mauren stopped her humming and when the sounds registered she shot up from her seat and raced to the door.

“Let them in you dogs,” she said, scowling at the young guards who quickly released my father from a headlock, one was sporting an already bruising black eye.

Before they could even get the word “ma’am” out, my entire family spilled inside, nearly knocking over Mauren.

“Get ‘em out of here, Mar,” pleaded my father. She only shook her head causing my mother to join in, a beggar's look in her eye that must run in the family.

“Please. We have a place to go, far from here. Where we’re safe, and…” she gave me an apologetic look, “and the towns safe from (Y/N).” The words felt like a dagger thrown straight through my chest to the moldy wall behind me. I knew she was just saying that...right? The very thought of my parents thinking I was bad luck because of finding Old Man Jono’s body was nearly enough to bring me to my knees.

“You know I can’t do that. If (Y/N) is what they say, then they’re our only real chance at peace.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

“Maybe not...but it’s hope. And ain’t that a bitch,” she said, she turned and walked back to her seat with all our eyes glued to her. She only gave us one last glance, a frown on her lips. “But I’ll give ya some time...sundowns over soon.”

The words struck a somber truth, death is soon. The Beast is waiting. The cell was drowned in silence before my mother stepped so close to the cells she could reach a shaking hand through and grab ahold of my own, her breath turning white in the air.

“Be brave, little one. The gods will reward your courage,” she said, my father scoffed behind her.

“The gods have left us long ago,”

“Pa!” my sister scolded, hurt flashing across her eyes. I only laughed bitterly, her eyes finding mine.

“He’s right, but so is Ma. Courage will serve me more than the gods will.” My dad gave me a smile close to being something proud but ended up being sadder than anything I’ve ever seen. He wordlessly stepped forward and wrapped his big hand over Ma’s and mine. My sister hugged herself just behind us, eyes glued to the floor.

“But…. I’m scared,” she said. Maruen looked up with watery eyes and the whole room shifted into something tragic at the cracking of her voice. I begrudgingly left my parents and moved slightly to the right and reached my arms through the bars awkwardly. My sister looked at me for a long, depressed moment before inching forwards into my arms. I hugged her the best I could.

“You’re allowed to be scared, but have faith too. Faith that I will come back to you,” I whispered to her softly. Her response was a sniffle and a meek word.

“How?”

“Because I am a person with too much to lose to just give up. And I’ll miss your scones too much,” she laughed softly before stepping back and wiping her nose.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said.

“I’m counting on it,” I replied, a bittersweet smile on my lips as Mar tugged softly on my moms shoulder, the roaring of the townspeople could be heard even through the stone walls of the prison.

“Times up,” she said, tears pricking her eyes. I wanted to feel mad. I wanted to feel the same rage as my parents, but I couldn’t. Not when everyone looks just as afraid and heartbroken as me, maybe not for the same reasons, but we all still felt the same.

There was hardly time for a hello and now there was no time for a goodbye as the Mayor burst through the heavy wooden doors, hair falling into his crazed eyes.

“Grab her,” he spoke lowly, like the warning growl of a predator and like all Alphas have been, he was obeyed. A dozen townsfolk stepped forward, my heart lurched as my father, still limping and bloody, stood before me, my mother next to him and my sister by her, all holding hands forming a wall.

“Please-” my father tried again but his words were cut off as the people I grew up with and adored, grabbed him by the shoulders, arms wrapping around my mother and tugging at my sister. I squeezed my eyes shut as they screamed and cried. I flinched when the steel door to my cell creaked, I tried not to, but I wailed when calloused and large hands gripped my forearms, lifted me off the ground and all I felt was cold air when it should be warm; but even the weather knew this to be a somber event.

When I opened my eyes this time they were filled with rage, rage and sorrow. My eyes met the Mayors and I swear I saw him flinch...good. I growled my words at him, screaming and shouting before I was so far from the prison cell I felt only fear. The forest was in sight.

“Let me go!” I cried, mourning for my life. “I didn’t do it!” I screamed, mourning for Jono and his wife. “Please,” I whispered, muttering the words like a prayer. “Please. Please, please,” I considered actually praying, but I didn’t want to send my prayers to a god that would let all this happen. All the death, all the sin and misunderstanding. All the tragedy that was always just tragedy and never meant to be more, never meant to become my life.

My voice ceased to work after a mile, we marched in silence towards the castle in the forest. Leaves crunching in haunting harmony beneath their farm boots. The irony of their apparel did not slip from me. Farmers and shop owners all dressed for their day of work, not for a journey through the “haunted woods” to sacrifice one of their own. I could still hear my family's screams carried on the wind, howling as if the source came from the throat of a beast.

I laid limp in their grip, exhausted and hopeless before my mothers words came back to me. Have courage, she said, I thought of her crying and wish I told her to have some too. That we would meet again, in this life or the next.

On a crack of lighting The Beast’s castle was unveiled by the white light only to disappear in the shadows of night again. Teasing and terrifying, the people let me down. The mayor, leading the pack, turned his back to the castle to face us. I glared at him with all I had left in me.

“You have ventured all this way, putting your fear and grief aside to make room for hope and peace. Peace,” he laughed softly, “what an odd word to remember exists in a time like this. But it does, and it can be forgotten no longer when it is peace that is so close to us now after all this time. When we find peace, know that it is because of all of you, and our sacrifice, our hardship. So I thank you, for bringing Pivot that much closer to moving on, to normalcy. You are all heroes of this town,” the mayor said, his voice level but his chest was heaving, he was afraid to be so close to the castle, it made me want to scream. The crowd cheered and shook me as they cried, half relief and half sorrow.

He turned his back to us now, another flash of lighting and I saw the Mayors face, distorned and dark as he gazed up at the castle, neck craned and wind blowing his hair. He raised his arms slowly and shook them as he yelled, the volume of his voice making us all flinch backwards, some even running. The Beast was sure to know our arrival now.

“We have brought you a sacrifice!” he shouted, “they are your chosen one, stumbling upon the wake of your demons! They are yours to do as you please on the condition that the murders will stop! We have brought you one last prey but that is all you can take from us again!” his face was red by the time he finished.

Thunder boomed as we waited with our breaths held and legs weak, the castle was taller than I thought any building could be. The walls covered in moss and crumbled, windows broken or sheeted in dust. It looked like death and torture. It looked like hell.

The mob screamed and gasped as a green flicker shone through one of the dusty windows. I felt tense arms shove me forwards, the Mayor caught me before I fell and with an unhuman growl he walked me towards the front door. I struggled to stay upright at the speed of which he was taking me, we stumbled up the steps and he slammed me against the door.

“Tell him our gratitude, the cursed do not belong with us as much as they do with him,” he sneered, his arm raised and I swore he was going to hit me, I closed my eyes but the pain never came. Instead, I heard the loud banging of wood as he knocked on the door, and then the cold chill of metal across my wrist. His smile grew curled and twisted as I looked down.

“You bastard!” I cried, hitting him in the chest with one arm, my other chained to the door handle of the castle. The Mayor has chained me to the gates of hell where demons were sure to find me. I planned on hitting him all night, until my arm grew tired and he grew sorry and let me go. But he left as soon as we came.

The others had left in a hurry the second I was pushed away, the last thing I saw was the Mayor flushed in light as lightning struck a tree in the forest, his face looked corrupted, changed with evil as he glanced at me through the woods before disappearing inside them. All was silent and still beside the thunder, the crackling of a forest fire starting to burn and the heaving of my lungs as I cried.

I wasn't left in silence for long. I held my hand to my mouth when I could hear the sound of footsteps, shallow and clicking on the castle floor. I did pray then, I prayed that if I stayed quite enough The Beast would never find me, or that the town would come back and hold me until I forgave them. But I would never forgive them for what they’ve done to me, and as the footsteps got louder I knew my prayers would not be answered.

The door slid open slowly, each inch forcing me to stumble inside the castle as I cried out, my wrist twisting painfully against the door. But my cry fell silent at the sight before me.

“Ach!” the voice was as dark and dusty as the rest of the castle. I wondered for a moment if it was a man? If it was even human at all? Staring up at me with large and beady eyes, wrinkled over and harsh, was a creature less than half my size, a candle held between his long, pale fingers. He stared at me with a deep frown, he looked ancient but oddest of all was his ears, long and pointed and drooping down his long face, rivaling the size of his pointed nose.

Something caught between a growl and a rumble left him as he finally went to speak. “What brings you to the nobel and most ancient house of Black?” said the thing, he was insulting in the way he spoke, but perhaps most shocking was the sadness hidden in the words.

“I-” he cut me off with a sigh as his eyes landed on my wrist.

“Who dares vandalize the nobel house of Black,” he hissed, the venom in his eyes nearly knocking me off my feet.

“I didn’t-” I was cut off once again from another voice, soft and low like a somber song.

“Let them in,” said the voice, I could tell it was a man but as I tried to see inside the castle there was no one there, only shadows and endless hallways. The voice was calming in a way where I didn’t flinch at the leathery and cold feeling of the beast helping my hand out of the chains. My heart was no longer racing but perhaps that was the most dangerous thing about certain predators, they never let you know when you’re in danger.

“My name is (Y/N),” I said. I wanted to kick myself for the shaking in my voice. The little beast and wonder before me grimaces as he bowed,

“Kreacher,” he said, “loyal house elf to Sir Regulus Black.”

Taglist:

@pmissuluger @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @kopheliablack @enchantedblackrose

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Second Chance 2

Harry Potter AU 

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader 

Link to Chapter 1 

Rating- M- smut

______

The house was dark when you stepped in. You reached out and flipped on the foyer light. After taking off your sweater, you felt eyes on you.

“What took you so long?”

You said, not bothering to turn. That action needed to wait a moment.

“I had other things to take care of. I knew where you were and that you were safe.”

You internally sighed hearing Sirius’ voice. It had been 13 long years since you had heard him speak. Now all of the girly feelings were swarming.

“Such as?”

You asked.

“Making sure that Harry and Matilda were okay. Trying to catch Pettigrew and commit the murder that I was imprisoned for...ya know...everything that you expected.”

Sirius was waiting for you to turn. He expected that you wouldn’t run to him and jump into his arms. That wouldn’t be you.

When you finally turned, you didn’t regret it. Your heart ached even more with grief looking at Sirius. He had lost some weight and looked older but god he was still handsome! You weren’t sure where he got the tight jeans and jumper but you were thankful for whoever they were.

“You saw Matilda?”

You questioned. Sirius nodded and ran a hand through his messy hair.

“She’s the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen...except you of course.”

You smirked.

“And you still have a way with words.”

Sirius didn’t like the way that you were watching him warily. The look in your eyes hurt his heart. You were afraid of him. That was something that he never wanted.

“Just so you know, she wasn’t looking for me. She was actually minding her own business.”

You chuckled.

“That’s shocking for Matilda. She’s truly your daughter. Sometimes I think that is James and yourself running around here pulling the pranks that she and Harry pull.”

Sirius’ face took on a pained expression.

“I miss him. Y/n, I have to talk to you. Those things...that I supposedly did...it wasn’t me. It was Peter Pettigrew who has apparently been living as Ron Weasley’s rat for the past 13 years. I hope you’ll believe me one day.”

Sirius had walked to you. He reached out and kissed your hand. Sirius smiled seeing your engagement ring still on your finger.

“I do believe you. I only wished that you would have stayed home with me that day. Matilda and I have suffered greatly without you. There is no point in yelling at you about it. You’ve suffered enough. We both have. All of our friends abandoned me. The only person that I had was Remus and your mother.”

Sirius’ mouth dropped. He had a feeling that the two of you hadn’t had an easy go because of him but he never expected all your friends to just up and walk away. The news that his mother had something to do with you was even more concerning.

“My...mother?”

Sirius choked out. You nodded,

“She and Regulus both apparently took pity on me. Walburga was proud of what you supposedly did. She was the only one there when Matilda was born.”

Sirius’ happy expression had turned to horror. His crazy-ass mum was there when Matilda made her grand appearance and apparently got her claws into the little girl after all. It was everything that Sirius never wanted.

You, meanwhile, thought back to the day Matilda was born with a frown. It was a happy day but it also wasn’t at the same time. This was the darkest period of your life and you would never be able to forget it.

You had been staying with Walburga for some time. Orion had died the year before. You accredited that to Walburga’s reason in wanting to help you. That and the fact this baby would be the next heir to the Black family name. You hated living in Grimmauld Place, however, the dark and depressive mood of the house fit your current mindset.

“Still not getting any bigger are you?”

You looked up as Walburga stepped into the room with a little sandwich on a china plate. This was your fourth sandwich of the day. You weren’t sure what Walburga was thinking but fattening you up wasn’t going to make you feel any better. Eating itself made you feel worse!

You were right at 8 months pregnant and was probably the size of someone 6 months. Walburga had been making it her personal mission to shove food in your face whenever she could. If it wasn’t Walburga it was Kreacher chasing you around with a cup of tea.

“I don’t think so. I’m not really hungry.”

Walburga put the sandwich down in front of you.

“You haven’t eaten in two hours. The baby needs to eat.”

You internally muttered that the baby was sick of sandwiches all hours. Walburga sat down with a smile.

“Y/n, darling, I am sorry to say this but starving yourself will not bring Sirius back to your side. My son made a wonderful decision and you should be proud of him.”

You felt like vomiting right on Walburga’s insanely expensive rug. How could you be proud of Sirius? You were furious with him but also wanted him more than ever.

Like a good little robot, you took a few tentative bites of the sandwich to appease your mother-in-law.

“That’s a good girl.”

She said in a forced loving voice. After a few bites, you felt a pain shoot through you.

“Oh my!”

You whimpered. Walburga jumped up. Her dark eyes were wide.

“It's too early! It can’t be time! Kreacher! Get the doctor here!”

Whether Walburga liked it or not, Matilda had made up her mind that today was the day! The baby sure took her sweet and precious time too. You spent the next 14 hours in the most excruciating pain known to man! The stupid doctor wouldn’t give you any drugs to help with the pain. You suspected Walburga was behind that.

When Matilda was finally born, you sat propped up on a few pillows looking at the most darling baby in the world. Walburga was busy wandering around the room telling off Kreacher and any other poor being that got in her way. She finally calmed down enough to hold her granddaughter. Walburga looked down at her with a proud smile.

“She’s perfect...a little small but she will be fine. Now we just have to raise her right.”

You shook yourself from the memory that apparently you transferred to the poor man in front of you. Sirius had his hands over his face and was trembling.

“Please tell me that my mother didn’t get her claws into her.”

You shook your head.

“No, not long after Matilda was born Regulus died and Walburga went around the twist. She’s been dead for a while now. However, if you want to talk to her, she kindly put a permanent sticking charm on her portrait at her house.”

Sirius shook his head.

“No one needs to see that. Y/n, I can’t apologize enough! I’m sure you’ve moved on...but I…”

You held a hand up.

“Nope. I have gone on a few dates but nothing came of it. They weren’t you.”

Sirius wrapped his hands around your waist. He leaned down kissing you softly.

“I’m right here, love. I’m not asking you to jump in bed with me but I wouldn’t fight you off if you wanted to.”

You didn’t move your mouth too far from him.

“We’ve both probably changed in the past 13 years.”

Sirius nodded.

“We certainly have. Doesn't mean that we can’t make it work though. I want to be a part of yours and Matilda’s lives...even though I kind of have to lay low until that damned rat is caught again.”

You knew that it was probably stupid to just throw yourself back into Sirius’ arms full force but you didn’t care. Hearing him say that he didn’t do it and that it was Peter Pettigrew (as a letter from Remus said the day before) was enough. You knew that you may end up regretting going full steam ahead but neither Sirius nor yourself were good at controlling ourselves around each other.

This may be a good lesson for Matilda.

“Come with me.”

You whispered before turning and walking toward the bathroom. Sirius didn’t have to be told twice. He knew what you wanted. Pulling the jumper over his head, Sirius waited for you to get the shower going. You glanced over your shoulder with an innocent expression that his already forming erection began to throb. It was “that look” that you could always get him going.

“Still like shower sex, huh?”

You smiled and started undoing the buttons of your dress.

“That hasn’t changed. We’ll be all wet and slippery. I haven’t had sex in 13 years so extra wetness doesn’t hurt.”

You had to fight the urge to giggle at the expression on Sirius’ face.

“Hurry up and get that damned dress off, woman.”

15 minutes later, you stood wrapped in Sirius’ arms as the hot water soaked your joined bodies. Your eyes were closed in ecstasy as he rocked into you. Both of you had both come moments before but the delicious feeling of your bodies together again was enough to keep both of you going.

“You’re not going to change your mind tomorrow, are you?”

Sirius asked as his right hand continued to squeeze your breasts greedily. You shook your head.

“I don’t want you to go….ever. Matilda, Harry, and I need you too.”

It wasn’t a lie. You needed Sirius more than he knew. There was no way that you could go back to the single life after making love to him again. You would be inconsolable without him again.

Your only hope now was that the two of you could navigate the very new parameters of your relationship

_____

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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[useless-slytherclaw]

Chapter 5: Grimmauld Place

TW  PTSD

Regulus threw up.  From the sounds next to him, one of the others had too, probably Iset.  The sudden horrible pressure and twisting had been too much for his overstimulated body.  

“I didn’t know you had problems with apparating.”  Did Sirius sound worried? As if. Just looking for another reason to be better than Regulus, no doubt.

“I don’t,” Regulus said stiffly as he stood back up to his full height, which while tall was unfortunately slightly shorter than Sirius’.  “I was shoved back into a body about 10 minutes ago and then squeezed through an airless magic tube.”

Regulus glared at his brother. He felt Iset take his hand, and he turned towards her.  She squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. Somehow, he could tell she was silently telling him that it wasn’t worth being upset over.  Regulus focused on the feeling of their hands touching. It was so different from before, and not just because her hand was now warm. There were too many metaphysical questions wrapped up in that, so he filed it away for later.

He looked at Sirius who coughed uncomfortably.  “Well, sorry, let’s just get in then.” Sirius turned and put his hand on the doorknob, then stopped.  “Be quiet or you’ll wake up mother’s portrait. She’ll be sure to have fit because I’m not actually dead.”

Regulus was glad for the warning.  If he had walked into Grimmauld Place and been met with his mother’s vitriol, he might have walked right back out again. Regulus took a deep breath as Sirius opened the door, holding tight to Iset’s hand.  

Regulus felt the heaviness of number twelve Grimmauld Place as soon as he stepped in.  His spine stiffened in response. Regulus wasn’t sure if it was the magic of the house or his own emotions that made him want to hunch over and hide.  He glanced at Iset, who was standing straight-backed with her chin held high, but he could see the tension in her jaw and feel it in the grip on his hand.  Maybe it was the house after all, or maybe the stress of it all was getting to her.  

Regulus walked down the hall after Sirius.  They passed a large pair of curtains on the wall, which Sirius pointed to and mouthed the words ‘crazy old bat’.  Regulus took this to mean that their mother’s portrait was hanging behind the curtains. They moved off the hall and into a drawing-room.  Sirius closed the door and sighed in relief.

Regulus was instantly thrown back to when they were kids.   Sirius and him sneaking around the house to avoid mother. Sirius closing the door behind him and sagging with relief when they were excused from a dinner party, or escaped a family function.  For a moment, the strange, old, worn Sirius in front of him was superimposed with a myriad of younger Sirius’ from before Hogwarts. Regulus resolutely turned away. That Sirius, who he had loved so deeply, was long gone, replaced by this haggard, middle-aged man.  

“You should probably get dry,” Sirius said to him.  “Though I have no idea why you’re dripping wet.”

Regulus turned to the fireplace, there was no wood there so he cast a self-sustaining, blue fire.  

“Kreacher!” Regulus called without thinking.  

There was a crack and a small house elf with huge ears appeared.  “Who is calling Kreacher? Miss Cissy said the blood traitor was dead, she did.  Who is in my mistress’s house and calling on Kreacher.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius said, face twisted in disgust.  

“Kreacher,” Regulus said much more gently.  “I summoned you.”

Kreacher spun around to look at Regulus, his eyes growing wide. With a cry of “Master Regulus,” he flung himself to the floor at Regulus’ feet and started wailing.

Most of what he said was unintelligible through his sobs.  But Regulus caught parts of it. “Forgive Kreacher, Master.”  “Kreacher left Master for dead.” “Master has returned to Kreacher.”  

Regulus gave Iset an apologetic smile, but she didn’t seem to be annoyed. Then, he knelt down by Kreacher, which was made difficult by the fact that Kreacher had grabbed ahold of his robes.

“Kreacher,” he said softly, but the wailing elf didn’t hear him.  “Kreacher,” he said more firmly. The elf stopped wailing and turned his sniffly attention to Regulus.  “Kreacher, you did exactly what I ordered you to do. I know it was very hard for you and I’m sorry for that.  Thank you, Kreacher.”

Kreacher burst into tears all over again when Regulus said thank you.

“Kreacher, right now, I need you to bring me dry clothes.” He glanced at Iset, who was tugging at the silk shorts as if trying to make them cover more skin that they were made to.  “And please bring something for Miss Iset to wear.”  

“Yes, Master, of course, Master.”  Kreacher bowed so low that his nose touched the floor and he disappeared with a crack.

“Nasty thing,” Sirius said.  Regulus rolled his eyes; this was an old disagreement.

“He’s a bit emotional,” Regulus told Iset,  “but he’s very dedicated to the family, and if you are nice to him, he’ll do anything for you.”  He gave Sirius a pointed look, which was ignored.

Sirius rubbed his face.  “We need to figure out when it is and what happened at the Ministry.”

“Why were you even in the Ministry,” Regulus asked, “weren’t you in Azkaban?”

“Wait, how did you know about that?  You’d been dead for two years when I was arrested.”  

Regulus grimaced at his brother and waved his hand at Iset.  “She heard about it before she died.”

Sirius looked at Iset again, just as confused as he was the first time he saw her.  Iset didn’t budge under his gaze, but her jaw was clenched and there was a bit of pink high on her cheeks.  “Why-” Sirius started but shook his head. “Later, I have to figure out what happened to Harry.”

Sirius strode to the fireplace, grabbed the floo powder, and stuck his head in the fireplace.  Iset stepped closer to Regulus once Sirius was distracted. She put her hand on his arm and gave him a searching look, silently asking if he was okay.  Regulus just nodded.

Then Kreacher returned, obscured behind a pile of robes.  He set them down in a neat pile. Pulling a green silk dressing gown from the pile, he offered it to Iset with a bow.  Saying under his breath, “Kreacher serves any friend of Master Regulus.”

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Iset said as she took it.  Kreacher bowed again, muttering. “Good blood, good blood she is.  Good people, not like the filth the blood traitor brat-”

“Kreacher!” Regulus said sharply.  

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher gave another bow.  “Kreacher will take your robes.” Regulus automatically started to pull off the clinging, wet robes.  He was partway through when he remembered that he was only wearing his pants and an undershirt beneath his robes.  He glanced behind him, Iset had politely turned her attention elsewhere.  Well, Regulus thought as he tried to get out of the robes as quickly as possible, my pants cover more than her shorts did.

He also pulls off the wet undershirt.  His face was hot, and he practically snatched the robes out of Kreacher’s hands.  The robes were warm and as Regulus put them on, he felt his skin drying off; Kreacher must have enchanted them.  Kreacher handed him a towel and Regulus used it to dry off his hair. He handed it back to Kreacher with thanks.  

 “Iset,” he said and she turned back to him.  “Sorry about that.”

She waved his apology away, “Can’t have you dripping water all over the carpet.”

Just then, there was a blast of green light.  Regulus had his wand out of his pocket and was pulling Iset behind him before he even realized what he was doing.  Iset, who hadn’t fought in a war, stumbled away confused. But the light wasn’t from a curse, it came from the fireplace: floo powder.

The man who had come through the floo network also had his wand out.  There was a tense moment as the two men stared at each other with their wands out.  Sirius stepped between the two with his hands up. “It’s just Remus, Reg. Put the wands down.”

Regulus didn’t put his wand down.  

The other man, however, did.  Regulus recognized Lupin now that Sirius had said his name, but he looked… old, like Sirius.  And right then he was staring at Regulus like he’d seen a ghost.

Regulus slowly lowered his wand; he could hear his heartbeat roaring again.  Lupin turned to Sirius, but instead of demanding answers, he just grabbed Sirius in a tight hug.  Someone tugged on Regulus’ arm: Iset. She turned him away from the pair before the fireplace.

“We’ll go to the dining room,” she said a little louder than she needed to for Regulus to hear, and guided him out.  They moved down the hallway until they found a space free of portraits and far enough from the drawing-room to be private.  Iset stopped and turned to him. She took both of his hands in hers.  

“You alright?” Her eyes are soft in the shadows of the hallway.

“Yea,” the breath he let out was shaky.  “I just… It was like instinct. There was the light and it was like the war all over again.”

Iset gently tugged Regulus toward her; her touch was so gentle that he could pretend it hadn’t happened, but he didn’t.  He let her pull him forward and wrap her arms around him. He let his head rest on the top of hers. She was so warm and he felt the tension leaving his muscles as she held him.  

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