Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The moon was awfully bright that night. The snow sparkled against the black sky, illuminating the snowflakes drifting in the passing wind. Regulus wasn’t in the habit of strolling about after dark, but he preferred the quiet solitude it provided. The house was empty but wouldn’t offer that same comfort. The winter holidays were never festive at Grimmauld Place. 

Perhaps, it had once been a bit more joyful when the house was filled with two sons instead of one. When Regulus and his brother built forts of snow in the yard and hid the shrunken heads in cupboards to sneak an extra drink of hot chocolate. Running around the house in their game of hide-n-seek with the family portraits. Hanging the enchanted fairy lights on the elegant tree. Often competing over who received the best presents. 

And when the fire crackled in the sitting room, Regulus played a traditional yuletide ballad on the piano. Sometimes Sirius joined in with his violin. A symphony shared between them, connecting them in solidarity. In those moments Regulus could pretend living in that house wasn’t smothering them to death. That life can be happy. 

Foolish little boy, he thought, there’s no escaping misery. Not like Sirius. Never like Sirius.

His parents had left on business to France after Boxing Day. They’d taken Kreacher to tidy up their French summerhouse. Narcissa was on vacation in Spain with her new husband and with the only other tolerant family members disowned; he’d spent the rest of his break alone.

In their absence, Regulus allowed himself the small freedoms he could afford. Like shopping at Diagon Alley without his parents’ judgemental eyes trailing after him. He blamed the lack of supervision when he bought a lunar globe from Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment and anonymously sent it to Sirius through the owl post. To the Potter’s estate. It was the first Yule without his brother. But old habits die hard.

In the early school years, Sirius’s friends had tried sending presents over the holidays. Their parents inspected each gift and when they didn’t pass the Black family standards (which they rarely did) they were immediately thrown away. Sirius learned to wait until they were back at Hogwarts to receive presents if he wanted to keep them. Something Regulus had made all too clear to his own friends.

When those friends learned Regulus’s parents were out of town, they quickly made plans to see him at Diagon Alley. He owed Evan and Barty’s presence for distracting him from any depressing thoughts of Sirius. From thinking about how his brother probably had a far better holiday with the Potters than he ever did with Regulus. 

They hadn’t judged Regulus when he went inside the second-hand bookshop. They hadn’t judged when he went to the back section where the muggle books were stocked. Though they had felt it their noble duty as friends (and dumb teenage boys) to poke fun at his choice in literature.

“That Shaking Spear again?” Barty had joked, pointing at the copy of Much Ado About Nothing in Regulus’s hand.

“It’s Shakespeare,” Regulus had deadpanned and shoved the other boy for his troubles. Both knew that Barty lived and breathed Hamlet.

Evan had teased him for buying The Brothers Grimm collection. Something about the title and its double irony.

By the time night fell they had parted ways at the Leaky Cauldron and promised to meet at Pandora’s place at the end of break to travel to King’s Cross together. Barty’s mom, who had finished her business at Gringotts, apparated away with her son. Evan had assured them he would floo home. As a fifth-year student, he hadn’t been taught how to apparate yet, and Regulus wanted no evidence of his whereabouts left behind if he used the floo, so walking remained the only option to getting back to Grimmauld.

A chilly breeze blew against his thick robes, and he adjusted his bag of books to shield himself from the cold. The warming charm he’d casted at home had finally worn off and Regulus couldn’t recast the spell in a muggle neighborhood with the trace on his wand. In the emptiness of the late night, he could almost hear the faint sound of howling in the wind. The snow on the pavement had been stepped on enough to not worry about sinking his feet through the frost. It made the long walk a bit more bearable.

Nearing the street corner of a lone park he stopped in his tracks at the faint sound of another set of steps crunching in the snow. Turning around, Regulus spotted in the distance two gleaming icy blue eyes staring from the shadows between two large trees. A predatory gaze — not unlike that of his mother, pierced through the space between them.

He froze for a second wondering if stray animals lurked around this area. A large dog? A bear? No, bears were extinct in London. Silence and dread simmered in the pit of his stomach. Heart racing with nerves he took two careful steps back at the same time the haunting eyes moved forward. The light of the full moon shined upon a long snout with glinting sharp teeth and a large gray furry form. It didn’t take long before the creature sprinted out of the woods. Sprinted straight for him.

Regulus only had time to think oh Merlin, that’s a wolf before a heavy weight tackled him to the ground. His back hit the cold concrete of the empty road in a splash of glittering snow. The creature was crushing his chest making his already shaky lungs even more difficult to breathe. The world had a way of always making sure he was suffocating. In his house, at Hogwarts, on the curb of a nowhere muggle street. 

Sharp claws dug into his right shoulder, and he cried out when equally sharp fangs grazed the side of his face. Adrenaline coursed through his body and his left arm swung his bag to slap down on the wolf’s jaws. Startled, the creature backed up enough for Regulus to drag himself from under its legs trying to pull himself up. Fumbling for the wand in his pocket he jerked slightly from the pain shooting down his arm until a scream ripped from his throat at the sickening crunch that crushed his left ankle.

He saw the blood pouring through his pants staining the pure snow red. The wolf’s teeth were sunk deep into his flesh as it dragged Regulus back down, dropping his bag but gripping tight on his wand through the torturous pain. Half-aware of the strangled cries echoing in his ears. His leg was on fire, his breathing too shallow, and his body felt too hot against the freezing midnight air. 

Regulus heard the muggle tires screech on the concrete before the bright fluorescent lights blinded his eyes for an agonizing second. The wolf let go of his leg with a deep rumbling growl, blood dripping down its chin, and scampered off back into the shadows. 

Stunned, Regulus stared up at the sky. The shining moon mocked him. It, somehow, unsettled him more. In times of darkness, the stars were supposed to shine the brightest. But the milky white light of the moon drowned out their luminous glow. Like they were being swallowed by the void of night. And in the cosmic design of the heavens, Regulus Black had disappeared. 

An unfamiliar panicked voice caught his ears. “Oh fuck, kid are you okay?” Regulus blinked through the haze. Throat stinging from all the screaming. A red-haired young man with a conductor’s hat greeted his watery eyes. A three-story high bright purple muggle vehicle parked in front of them. The Knight Bus. “Kid, I’m going to move you inside. Don’t pass out on me yet. Fabian, get out here!”

“Holy shit!” Another unknown voice shouted. “Gideon, what happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” the first voice, Gideon, yelled back. Regulus felt two pairs of arms lift him up and he loudly protested the pain it sparked along his shaking limbs. “He was already bleeding all over the snow.”

The bright muggle lights did him no favors in clearing his teary eyes. Closing them didn’t help either, making the pulsing ache in his head much harder to ignore. He was hyper-aware of every inch of his flesh. The chill seeped deep into his bones even as the rest of his body burned.

“Are you sure we didn’t pick up a ghost? He’s unnaturally pale,” one of the men joked, a half-hysterical laugh shaking his words. Regulus was set down on a soft surface, possibly a bed. Spasming unwillingly through another uncharted wave of pain. A map of all the terrible places that made him no better than a rotting corpse. As good as dead.

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” the other man replied, voice much closer to Regulus. “Don’t worry kid, you keep breathing. Fabian, take the wheel.” 

Regulus felt his surroundings moving, his bed almost jostling around if it weren’t for Gideon's strong grip on the rail. Keeping him in place. His heart wouldn’t slow down. Each beat pushed against fragile lungs, making every breath a painful relief.

“What do we do?” Fabian yelled from wherever he was driving the bus. “Go to St. Mungo’s?”

Regulus shook his head, desperately trying not to pass out. Not St. Mungo’s. Going to the hospital meant alerting his parents. They would know he left the house. They would know he’d been out past curfew. They would know exactly what he’d been doing while they were gone. Between bleeding out and being left at their mercy, he opted for the blood loss. Regulus thrashed in protest, his voice sounded hoarse and pathetic in his pleas. “N-no! Not that…please. No hospital. P-please!”

“Alright, alright,” Gideon conceded, attempting to ease his panic. To get Regulus to stop making the injuries worse from all the harsh movements. “No St. Mungo’s, but kid, this looks really bad. We have to take you someplace. Any place that can fix this.” Faintly, Gideon muttered the bandaging charm, and another wave of pain stabbed through his leg. Fingers twitched around the wand he still held onto as a light buzz rang in his ears.

There had to be somewhere else he could go. If Sirius was still at Grimmauld, going home would have been easy. Going home would have been the answer, but nothing was waiting for him there. A cold empty house. Sirius was somewhere here in England yet a million miles away. He didn’t know how to reach his brother then. Doubted he could reach him now. Sirius couldn’t save him. Not anymore.

With bleary eyes, Regulus recalled a not-so-distant conversation. A promise. Of a place to meet. A place that was warm, friendly, and achingly safe. He mumbled what he hoped were coherent sentences. Practically begging with the last piece of strength he had left. Half delirious, half mad with it. Hands were on him again. Words were being spoken. None of it meant anything to him anymore. 

He blinked in and out of existence. Gaps along his memories. A dream unfolded before his waking eyes. The Knight Bus stopped moving. A body placed on another bed. Spells stitching flesh back together. Potions poured down a dry throat. Angels of wispy blonde hair and soft creamy skin surrounded him. Drops of rain flowed out of pale blue-gray eyes. They gently asked about rings on thin fingers. Whispered riddles of metals and plants. He agreed to their sweet words. Rays of sunlight filtered through the melancholy at his compliance, but the rain kept falling.

A moment of silence. A quiet space between here and there. Liquid gold poured over the flames. A distant scream. The wildfire didn’t cease but it dulled and stopped spreading molten ash along the floor. A bloody mess of a half-dead boy.

Regulus was so tired. He stopped thinking a long time ago. The shock was shutting down his body. Shutting down his brain. Senses going numb. Dark spots swam against his blurring vision. Foolish little boy, somewhere deep inside, he knew, there’s no escaping misery. Everything went black and consciousness slipped away.

Chapter Text

Platform 9¾ was packed. Families of all sizes bustled about the train station. Students piled onto the Hogwarts Express for the journey back to school. The sounds and smells were overwhelming. Voices shouted over each other until the words lost their meaning. Artificial perfumes, coal-burnt steam, and icy snow intermingled in the air.

The full moon passed a few days ago. Remus was still sensitive to it all. Transforming at home was familiar and safe, but he had missed the company. Alone in the cellar, Moony had no one to keep him entertained. That often meant resorting to tearing himself apart. 

Last year, the full moon hadn’t fallen on any days of their winter break, so he had still spent his transformations at Hogwarts. His friends risked a lot to make sure he was okay in the Shrieking Shack. It stopped the wolf from adding to his collection of scars. Something he was forever grateful to have now.

“Don’t stay up too late reading,” Mum said, raising her voice over the crowd. Her Welsh accent was a soothing balm to his ears. “And don’t forget to eat, even when you’re tired.”

“I know, Mum, stop worrying,” Remus said, though both knew he probably would be doing just that.

“Write often, son,” Dad added. His tone calmer, words shorter, and much quieter in his affection. Unsure if he was still allowed to be loved by his son for what he did. The guilt never goes away.

“I will.” He nodded, the only reassurance he could give. Silent apologies were always layered between them, mingled in the corners of their conversations, and Remus could do nothing more than forgive him each time.

His parents gave him quick goodbyes, mindful of his sore body when they gently hugged him. Walking through the rush of bodies, Remus was careful not to bump into other people, trying to get to the safety of the train and find his friends.

A passing breeze caught his attention. Remus paused. Floating faintly among the smells of smoke and fabric was the foggy scent of a moon-deep madness. It spoke of teeth, claws, and untamed rage. Something the savage part of himself recognized. A shiver ran down his spine. A heavy feeling of unfamiliar danger weighed on his shoulders.

He turned around, trying to pinpoint where the smell had come from. But just as the danger came and went, so did the scent. Disappearing somewhere in the crowd. In its place, another much more welcome smell wafted across his nose. Polished wood, warm spices, and sharp pine.

“Remus,” James called out behind him. Remus focused on his best friend instead, letting unsettling thoughts slip away. James pushed his glasses up his nose, his wild, dark hair blowing with the morning chill, and a large grin plastered on his face. “We’ve been looking all over for you. Come on, Pads and Wormy are waiting inside.”

Making their way through the train, Remus spotted the compartment the marauders had claimed since first year. The door slid open. The scent of honey, baked bread and wild blackberries reached him first before Peter’s blond head stepped out. 

“Leaving already, Pete?” Remus teased, “I just got here.”

“Remus, I’m glad you made it.” Peter grabbed the sleeve of Remus’s sweater, being careful not to make too much contact with his still-sore arms. Remus relaxed at the gesture. It felt nice to have his friends know these things about him. How they learned to accommodate him. It took a while to accept these actions as acts of kindness and not pity. 

“Where are you off to?” James asked.

“Thought I could get some Sugar Quills from the trolley,” Peter said, nodding pointedly at James. “Might cheer him up a bit.” Peter waved them off and went around the hallway in search of the Honeydukes Express.

Remus frowned. “Cheer him up?”

James stayed quiet. He jerked his chin over at the compartment and shrugged. Sliding the door open again, Remus breathed deeply at the next familiar scent. Inhaling it like fresh air. Smooth leather, fresh spearmint, and sweet cologne. A satisfied feeling rumbled in the back of his head. Content and appeased. 

Except the boy responsible for it didn’t look at them. Sirius hadn’t noticed them enter. His head leaned against the wall, long black hair curving over slumped shoulders, and stormy gray eyes glued to the window that trailed after passing figures. 

Remus knew he was hoping to catch a glimpse of his younger brother. Sirius stopped bringing up Regulus in their fourth year, but they all knew he never stopped looking out for him. Even after Sirius ran away from home last summer.

Sirius held a white, glowing orb the size of a quaffle on his lap. Shiny brass rings rotated around it. It took a second to notice the slight shadow arching at one edge of the sphere, mimicking the waxing gibbous phase of the object of Remus’s torment.

Oh.

It was a moon globe. An expensive-looking one at that. Elegantly crafted. Hauntingly beautiful in its design.

James cleared his throat. “Padfoot, look who finally joined us.” 

Pressing on the brass rings unfolded them like an outer shell, covering the moon within. The globe shrank to the size of a snitch and was pocketed away. Sirius finally turned.

Relief shone on Sirius’s face. Easing the grief in his eyes. They softened significantly once they landed on Remus. “Moony,” he breathed, fondness stitched on every letter. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” Remus slid into the spot next to him and reached out to hold his hand. A simple touch that didn’t hurt. The content rumble returned when Sirius intertwined their fingers together.

Remus wanted to ask about the moon globe. How his first Christmas away from Grimmauld Place went. What his eyes had been searching for just moments before. He, too, saw in Sirius a hesitant curiosity forming on his tongue.

Sirius wanted to ask about the full moon. The first transformation Remus spent alone since their friends successfully became animagi. What new scars were carved along his skin. 

But Remus didn’t ask, and neither did Sirius.

They let their questions hang in the quiet space between them. A vulnerability they weren’t ready to admit to. Issues locked away for later. Where their crueler emotions weren’t rustling too close to their hearts. 

James cleared his throat again, sitting on the opposite seat. An almost sheepish smile on his lips. Remus mirrored the expression. Feeling embarrassed for forgetting the other boy’s presence. Ever the compassionate sort, James provided a well-deserved distraction. “We slacked off a bit last year worrying about O.W.L.s. We’ve got to make up for it this year. Double the pranks, I’d say.”

The sorrow peeled off their backs like an old-worn coat. Replacing complicated life problems with simple boyhood antics. The mischief glinting in Sirius’s eyes sent pleasant sparks down Remus’s spine at the sight of it. All was as it should be.

Sirius quirked the corner of his lips into a lopsided smile. “I have a few good ideas I’ve been meaning to share.”

By the time Peter returned — with Sugar Quills for Sirius, Bertie’s Beans for James, and Chocolate Frogs for Remus — the marauders had a list of half-cooked schemes waiting in the wings.

***

After Dumbledore’s short welcome-back speech, the Great Hall burst with excitement. Students moved all around. Reuniting with friends. Chatting over the holidays. Reminiscent of the welcoming feast at the beginning of term, but far less strict in its house division.

A good chunk of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sat at the Gryffindor table with a few younger Slytherins who hadn’t been war-torn by house rivalries yet. Some Gryffindors mixed in at other tables too. An array of colors everywhere.

Dinner provided the delicious aroma of roasted chicken, lamb stew, puddings, sandwiches, tarts, and steamed vegetables. Remus’s appetite targeted the meaty portions of the meal, completely brushing aside the leafy greens. The week following a full moon was the most voracious. The transformations used a lot of energy and the wolf’s hunger lingered days after.

After explaining the muggle winter sport, Lily and Mary enthusiastically described their joint skiing trip. Mary retold the occasion Lily’s mean-spirited sister Petunia got stuck on the lift, and the whole table exploded with laughter. It wasn’t until Lily lightly scolded everyone for making fun that Remus noticed Marlene hadn’t said a single word the entire meal.

She pushed around the uneaten potatoes on her plate. Eyes downcasted at the table as she absentmindedly chewed on a strand of blond hair. Peter noticed it too when he elbowed her arm. “Why so down McKinnon?” 

Marlene startled out of her funk, but before she could answer, Mary jumped into the conversation, leaning over the table with a mirthful smile. “Marls here is upset she didn’t get to share a compartment with Dorcas on the way over.” Mary laughed when Marlene threw a piece of bread crust at her.

“Dorcas?” James chimed in, still chewing on a strawberry tart. “Dorcas Meadowes? The Slytherin beater?” James would only recognize the witch through Quidditch. Remus bet that half the other boy’s brain was occupied entirely by the sport.

Sirius brandished his fork like a dueling wand at Marlene. “What’s this? A Slytherin? Are you cozying up with the enemy?”

Marlene scoffed. “Piss off, Sirius. Your brother’s a Slytherin.” She quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, eyebrows high with surprise at the words that slipped out. The laughter stopped and the group went quiet.

Unwillingly, like a moth to a flame, all of their gazes drifted over the other side, stopping directly at the Slytherin table. A few blues and yellows and a single brave red figure drowned among the sea of green ties. Remus caught sight of the group Regulus frequented.

Barty Crouch Jr. was the easiest to spot. The fifth-year’s reputation as the son of a high-ranking Ministry official was well known, but his over-the-top personality drew the wrong kind of attention. At least Crouch’s loudmouth gained him a position as quidditch commentator and was usually reprimanded by a bumbling Slughorn for unnecessary swearing. The brunette often wore a self-satisfied smirk and calculated stare. Today, Crouch was half-mad hoarding a plate piled high with chicken. 

Next to him sat Evan Rosier, an intimidating force. A prodigious duelist with the best winning streak after joining the Dueling Club. Beating even skilled seventh-years. His half-lidded eyes left a permanently bored expression, but it was his hands which gave his restless nature away. They tended to twitch towards his robe pockets every couple of minutes. A near trigger-happy habit. Luckily, Rosier practiced far more self-control than Crouch did and merely glared at the students who disapproved of the wispy-haired blonde sitting across from them.

Pandora Lovegood was an unpredictable mystery. The witch was friendly and kind, but the oddities outshone her nicer qualities. She spoke her thoughts out loud, asking questions and making statements that made no sense to anyone but herself. Her intense stare was shameless and unrelenting, making those around her uncomfortable. Assessing them with a dangerously observant eye. An eagle who preferred the company of snakes. Lovegood sat with her leg extended over the space beside her. Stopping anyone else from sitting down.

Remus saw no trace of Dorcas or Regulus. A sweep around the room confirmed neither was in the Great Hall. 

“Where is Baby Black, Sirius?” Mary asked, bravely choosing to voice what they were all thinking.

“How should I know?” Sirius sneered, tone sharper than before. Looking away from the green banners, he went back to stirring at his half-eaten stew. “The little prat doesn’t tell me every single detail of his life.”

The echoing sound of a pole hitting the ground reached Remus’s ears. The entrance to the hall soon opened, and a dark-skinned girl with multiple tight braids held one of the double doors open. A smooth, glossy black wooden cane continued its rhythmic thumping on the floor, following the unhurried gait of the person who entered. 

High-quality robes swished with every careful step from each polished black dress shoe. A short, lean frame ambled by towards the Slytherin table. A mass of thick black curls brushed over sharp, pale cheekbones. Two deep scars ran from the bottom of his left eye down to his chin. Despite the facial scarring, he still wore the aristocratic, haughty Black good looks. 

Remus remembered the first time he met Regulus. The eleven-year-old carried himself with polite elegance even as he trailed after his rowdy older brother. The boy had shaken each of their hands at Sirius’s introductions. The effect of a high-society upbringing that Sirius had managed to slip out of by then. Remus had ripped his hand away at the contact. A sharp, unpleasant sting flared on his palm.

Regulus had looked down at his own hand. Rings adorned each finger. The soft, white, lustrous bands shined. They had taunted Remus. A burning acid metal: silver.

Any chance of friendship quickly crumbled after that. Regulus had decided Remus was someone far beneath him. Remus had decided Regulus was a spoiled brat (ten times worse than Sirius had first been). They had been rude to each other the entire ride to Hogwarts until Sirius shooed his brother away to an older cousin.

The fifteen-year-old looked just as elegant when he maneuvered into the seat next to the Ravenclaw. Lovegood had placed her leg back down when he approached, and Crouch pushed the plate of chicken towards him. Rosier appeared to speak a few clipped words, and the group leaned closer together. As if conspiring with each other. 

Rosier opened a small vile he pulled out of his pocket. A bluish liquid poured into the goblet in front of Regulus. No one else noticed. No one except the nosy Gryffindors on the other side of the room.

Remus felt Sirius tense beside him. A sour look scrunching his handsome face. The scars healing on his brother’s cheeks were obviously magical wounds. Remus would have thought the cane was another posh accessory were it not for how heavily Regulus had leaned on it. Something happened over the holidays. Nothing good.

Without warning, Sirius stood up, jolting the table at the urgency building up inside him. Morning dew and citrus orange assaulted Remus’s nose. Before Sirius could do so much as march over to the Slytherin table, a dark-skinned hand clamped on his shoulder and pushed him back down in his seat.

“What’s the hurry, Black?” Dorcas Meadowes nudged James aside, sitting on Sirius’s other side. A razor-sharp smile overtaking her lips at James’s pinched brows and Sirius’s narrowed gaze. 

Dorcas was an easy witch to get along with. Calm and down-to-earth. They had many amicable conversations in their shared classes. But times like these were reminders: Dorcas was in Slytherin for a reason.

“Hi, Dorcas,” Lily said, her friendly nature cutting the ropes of apprehension that had tied them in knots. “We didn’t see you on the train this morning—”

“And you’re late to dinner,” Mary added.

“—and we wanted to know if everything was alright?”

Dorcas waved off the concerns. “There was a last-minute change of plans.” Her smile melted into something warmer when she addressed Marlene. “Sorry about that, by the way, but I was helping a friend. You understand, don’t you?”

Marlene’s salty sea scent grew stronger. Remus knew she was moments away from sweating under Dorcas’s watchful eyes. “No worries. Completely understandable. There’s always next time.”

“Yes, next time,” Dorcas chuckled. Dark eyes swept over the rest of the group like she held a grand audience. “I’ll see you all in apparition classes, I hope.”

Peter groaned, hands covering his round face. “I forgot it starts next weekend.”

Peter’s pitiful fretting broke the tension, and everyone resumed talking. James yelled encouragements at Peter from across the table. Lily discussed the upcoming Slug Club parties with Marlene. Mary absentmindedly stared at the Hufflepuff table. Remus’s ears remained on Sirius when Dorcas turned to him.

“Don’t ask,” Dorcas hissed low.

“I beg your pardon.” Polite speech slipped out in a suspicious tone. Remus could tell Sirius was getting agitated. He fell back on refined manners whenever he felt uncertain about a situation. You can take the boy out of the Black life, but you can’t take the Black life out of the boy.

A part of Remus twitched nervously when Dorcas leaned in closer. Her citrus-orange smell was strong but carried a faint trace of wild, untamed rage. He bit back a defensive growl. Remus prided himself in maintaining self-control against the wolf’s instincts. Growling at Dorcas would do nothing but earn him worried stares. The foreign scent wasn’t coming from Dorcas anyway. It was more as if she had brushed against whatever gave off the smell.

“Madam Pomfrey approved the healer’s note, and rumors will start going around.” Dorcas’s eyes traveled around the rest of the Great Hall. “He doesn’t want you to ask, so don't ask. He has a lot going on. Regulus doesn’t need you interrogating him.”

“He’s my little brother—” 

“And he’s my friend. We both know that confronting him now will go very bad, very fast.”

“You can’t expect me to not—”

“You needed space when you were disowned. Those rumors were nasty, remember? Give him time.”

“I don’t care about rumors.”

“Brave Gryffindor response,” Dorcas said, leaning back, taking the smell of wilderness with her. Remus stopped gnawing on his tongue. “But Slytherins don’t work like that. In the dungeons it’s all about reputation. Regulus doesn’t want more unnecessary attention. Can you respect that?”

Dorcas and Sirius stared at each other. Like opponents sizing each other up on the Quidditch pitch. Beater vs beater. Dorcas arched an eyebrow, and Sirius looked away. “Fine, I won’t ask.”

Dorcas nodded. Message delivered. The Slytherin bid farewell to the rest of the table and walked away.

The marauders exchanged concerned glances. Sirius would let this go for now, but he wouldn’t let it go for long.

***

Classes resumed as usual. The soreness in Remus’s body ceased with the passing days. Lily and Remus partnered together for prefect rounds. Sirius and James spent more time scheming than studying. Much to Peter’s relief, their first apparition lesson was purely theoretical.

True to Dorcas’s warning, rumors of Regulus’s injuries circulated around the corridors. A Ravenclaw theorized he tried to illegally apparate and splinched himself. A Hufflepuff swore he broke into Gringotts and got attacked by their dragon security. A Gryffindor joked he challenged an adult wizard to an official duel and lost. A Slytherin almost got punched (by Sirius) for suggesting Regulus was involved in some dark arts ritual that backfired horribly.

Despite the gossip, the marauders saw very little of Regulus those first weeks back. Normally, with the younger boy being both a Slytherin and a fifth-year, they would only see each other in passing. In the hallways, at Hogsmeade, and in the library. Now, wherever they would cross paths, Regulus made himself scarce.

Sirius became woefully aware of his avoidant brother, thus spending more time as Padfoot. He did the same thing at the beginning of the school year, after he’d been disowned. Although Remus wasn’t an animagus himself, he heard his friends describe it sometimes. When they’re animals, complex human emotions disappear, and all that’s left are instincts and simple-minded thinking. It helped, Remus thought, for Sirius to deal with whatever complicated feelings he had about Regulus. Aside from Sirius, none of the marauders had siblings. Remus never understood the bond that tethered the Black brothers together.

Remus, on the other hand, became painfully aware of the second presence prowling at Hogwarts. The scent he’d caught on Dorcas floated around in small corners of the castle. In a bathroom stall. On a classroom desk. In the Great Hall. On the railing of the moving staircases. Much to his dismay, the scent was strongest in the library. Remus hadn’t studied comfortably since.

Remus learned to ignore the scent of people the same way muggles ignored ever-present automobiles. Easier still on the new moons when his senses were duller, as close to the smelling capabilities of any other ordinary wizard. This particular scent, however, was easily distinguished. A motorbike in a parking lot. Its engine rumbled in a way no other car did.

Something about it resonated with Remus’s core in the same instinctive way he felt after first receiving his wand. A foreign sensation, deeply known but unnamed. It tickled the back of his mind, a memory trying to burst free, but it was too faint and too far to properly recall. The line between half-knowledge and half-ignorance provoked him.

It activated an old warning system in his head. The paranoid pulse he felt his first year when he believed every little thing he did would be traced back to his lycanthropy. The irrational belief of being constantly watched. Of someday being found out. Overall, the primal part Remus couldn’t ignore howled viciously at the thought of an intruder inhabiting its space. The fear of an unknown threat.

He trudged on anyway. Nothing he could do about anxious nerves and paranoid habits. He’d been safe at Hogwarts for six years now, Remus tried hard not to distrust that fact. Still, knowing this hadn’t stopped him from being extra jumpy that month.

The days before the full moon kept Remus on edge. Restlessness settled in his bones, and anger boiled in his skin. Temper growing shorter, senses getting sharper, mood changing unpredictably. Sirius, too, picked up on Remus’s sour attitude. A grumpy Remus led to a broody Sirius. A broody Sirius led to a worried James. A worried James led to an anxious Peter. An anxious Peter led to a grumpy Remus. A continuous cycle that overflowed between them until they ran out of negativity to share.

It was in this state of mind that Sirius had had enough of waiting around for answers. Remus had just returned from patrolling with Lily, and they were all getting ready for bed.

“That’s it,” Sirius, still wearing his leather jacket over his uniform, tied his shoes back on. “James, hand me the cloak. I’m breaking into Poppy’s office.”

James’s head popped out of his pajama shirt to stare at Sirius. “I’m all for late night pranks mate, but I draw the line at messing with Poppy.”

Remus was all for late night pranks, too, when he didn’t just spend the last hour walking around the castle with Lily, who noticed his rushed pace to finish faster. He also wasn’t on board to prank Pomfrey. He owed her too much to do something like that to her. Remus bit back the sharp snarl catching in his throat, even if his friends already knew the sound of his anger, to avoid overflowing the dorm with his bad mood again.

Peter stuck his head out from the bathroom and, with a mouth full of toothpaste, pointed his soggy toothbrush at Sirius. “You better leave Pomfrey out of this.”

“I’m not pranking Poppy,” Sirius grumbled. “Meadowes mentioned a healer’s note. Poppy keeps our health records in her office. I won’t ask Regulus about it, but I’m going to find out what happened.”

And there it was. Sirius had never been the patient type, often getting detention for his impulsiveness, but this was important enough to have given it more forethought. Not by much, though. Why did he need to resort to breaking into the hospital wing right this second? It meant giving Remus more work to do. 

“In that case, count me in.” James retrieved his invisibility cloak and handed Remus the map. James was never one to refuse Sirius his full support, but he seemed a little too eager to be given the task of stealing personal documents. 

Remus frowned at the map. Sleep sounded far better at the moment, but they weren’t marauders if they didn’t all go looking for trouble together. The boys were lucky that Remus found it difficult to refuse the exhilarating carnage that James and Sirius created.

Peter rinsed his mouth and started buttoning his shirt back on. Short fingers paused on the third button. His nose wrinkled his face in distaste. “I’m going to be the distraction, aren’t I?”

Sirius clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Knew I could count on you, Wormy.”

“I’m always the bloody distraction.”

They made their way down the hall to the hospital wing. James and Sirius hid under the cloak while Remus kept checking the map to keep track of Filch. Peter’s rat form squirmed in Remus’s robe pocket.

The plan was simple: 

Remus knew Pomfrey made three rounds to check on the overnight patients. Sirius and James will sneak into her office and retrieve the note. Peter will then scare one of the patients to keep Pomfrey occupied. Remus will wait in the corridor outside to collect Peter and meet back at their dorm.

Remus checked his wristwatch. Almost midnight. “Pomfrey will make her first round in six minutes.” He pulled Wormtail out of his pocket and pushed one of the double doors open. “You go straight to the office. And be quick about it, Pomfrey doesn’t make her second round till three.” With the tip of his wand, he sharply pointed at Sirius’s floating head. “And no funny business, you’re only there for the note. Am I clear?”

Sirius grinned and pulled on Remus’s tie until their mouths slotted together in a quick, appeasing kiss. “Crystal clear, Moony.”

He heard James stifle a laugh when Remus pushed Sirius’s head back under the cloak. They shuffled inside, and Wormtail scurried over to the row of beds. Remus propped the door open with one of Peter’s empty ink bottles. He always forgot to throw them away. The rest was a waiting game.

Remus stood by one of the pillars to stay out of sight. He had given James the map to keep watch over Pomfrey. With the moon closer to full brightness, his eyesight became sharper in the dark. Remus would be able to spot Peter when he would eventually run out the door.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later that Remus heard slight yelling coming from the room. He took a step forward but paused when the scent of dust and powdered fur reached his nose. The sound of pattering feet echoed on both sides of the corridor.

Two sharp yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness—without so much as a tattling meow—Mrs. Norris sprinted forward after catching sight of the rat. Wormtail squeaked in fright and ran past Remus, disappearing into the corner of the hall with the cat fast on his heels. Remus cursed under his breath and gave chase.

The rush of it soon flooded Remus’s head. The primal urge to pursue itched on his creaking joints. It whispered promises of freedom and contentment. It wanted out of his silly little human rules. It wanted out of his silly little human skin. The moon pulled him too close to the wolf. He was no predator, not today. Remus shook off the temptation and reminded himself of the present problem. The prey of his prey was his friend. Wormtail was minutes away from becoming Mrs. Norris’s next meal.

“Confundo,” Remus whispered, and Mrs. Norris shuddered before turning around and running in the opposite direction. He took a moment to watch Wormtail round the next corner and away from Filch’s spying cat. Looking around the corridor confirmed the distance they traveled away from the hospital wing. Remus would recognize this area of the castle like it was his own home. With the amount of time he spent here, it would be embarrassing if he didn’t. One of the library’s doors was cracked open.

Remus’s better judgment advised looking for Peter and returning to the Gryffindor Tower. Unfortunately, his better judgment was drunk on moonlight. The distant longing to hunt still vibrated in his bones, so if he couldn’t chase after prey, he would chase after students breaking curfew. He entered the library.

A hushed conversation drifted through the presumably empty aisles. A male and female voice hissed at each other, with the occasional interruption of a second male voice. Remus followed the sounds. They were hidden behind the far-off bookshelves.

When he sneaked toward the corner of the wooden shelf, the scent of oranges, dry ink, and firewood filled the air. Remus peeked through the book gaps. Dorcas and Crouch were pointing furiously at the opened book between them, surrounded by other scattered volumes laid on a table. Rosier picked up different books, skimmed through their pages before shutting them closed, and frowned at the covers as if they personally offended him.

The Lumos spell emitting from their wands shed light on the titles: Lupine Lawlessness, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Most Macabre Monstrosities, Lycanthropy: Ancient Guide to Werewolves, Defense Against the Wolfman, Monsters of the Moon, Dark Creatures and How to Avoid Them.  

Remus’s stomach dropped. They were looking up information on werewolves. But for what purpose? Had they been here in the middle of the day, Remus would think the fifth years were simply reviewing for their upcoming O.W.L.s. However, being alone after curfew suggested the group didn’t want anyone to know they were researching the subject.

“—can’t put a barrier around the Forbidden Forest! Then what? Leave him at the mercy of Acromantulas? No, we have to keep him in one spot.”

“Which is why we need the chains. The whole point is that he’ll attack anything, even himself,” Dorcas muttered, yanking the fresh copy of Hairy Snout, Human Heart out of Crouch’s hands.

Crouch fumed, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “Fine, treat him like some wild animal. When it’s over, he’ll know, I alone spoke for him, and he’ll reward me with the title of greatest best friend.”

“We’re only taking necessary precautions, Barty,” Rosier absentmindedly said, dropping a heavy book on Crouch’s lap. The Monster Book of Monsters growled against the tight belts holding it shut. Crouch frowned and turned his head away from his friends as he stroked the furry cover of the large tome.

Remus swallowed down the lump of outrage and panic. Were they preparing to hunt a werewolf? Did they suspect one at Hogwarts? Did they suspect him? 

Regardless of what they were planning, it was still after curfew. Remus was still a prefect. He had the higher ground. Remus moved away from his hiding spot and made himself known. Hands clenched at his sides. Fire burning on his tongue. Forced down the growl in his voice when he harshly whispered, “What are you all doing out of your dorm? Five points from Slytherin for each of you.” 

Three heads shifted in his direction, blinking owlishly at him. The moment of silence rang loudly in the dead of night. Too many things happened at once:

Dorcas whispered a banishing charm on the books, simultaneously sending them back to their shelves. Crouch unclipped the belts of the monster tome and flung it straight at Remus. When he ducked on instinct, Rosier hit him with a stickfast hex. The monster book chomped on his pants, pulling at the fabric. Before he could point his wand at them in retaliation, all three Slytherins scattered in different directions. Leaving Remus with his shoes stuck to the floor in the darkness of the emptied library. 

“Finite,” Remus said and unstuck his shoes. Adrenaline drained out of him even as the desire to run clinged to his legs. No longer in search of a quick thrill, but with the spiking fear rising inside his chest. Taking deep breaths, he buckled the belts shut and reshelved the monster book. He had half a mind to confront the Slytherin lot, but it would bring up the topic of werewolves. In his exhaustion and irritation, he decided to ignore it.

After evading both Mrs. Norris and Filch, Remus finally reached the safety of the Gryffindor common room. Peter dozed off haphazardly on one of the couches. At the sound of the portrait closing, Peter startled himself awake with a single sharp snore.

“Moony,” Peter rubbed his eyes, “where were you?”

“You didn’t need to stay out here waiting for me. It’s late – you should be in bed.”

“I volunteered.” A sleepy pause. “I wasn’t tired anyway,” Peter yawned.

Remus helped support Peter’s drowsy weight up the stairs. Back in the dorm room, a scattered mess of papers lay on the floor. Sirius kneeled over the parchment, his eyes swiveling all over the inked lettering like a madman. James sat next to Sirius, holding up a single sheet, and squinted at it in forced concentration. Neither bothered to look up at their return.

After dumping Peter on his four-poster bed and shutting the curtains, Remus stomped his way to the distracted duo. “You were only supposed to take the note. Not his whole file!”

James dropped the paper and stared at Remus with wide eyes. Sirius wordlessly collected the health records back into one pile, stuffed them into a folder, and shoved it into his bedside drawer. Before Remus could say anything more, Sirius burrowed into the lump of bedsheets and closed his curtains.

Remus felt snubbed. He was angry, tired, and sore, yet he went along to help break into Pomfrey’s office despite all that. Sirius, who knew this, instead of being grateful, just shut him out.

A tug on his robes stopped the furious rumbling in Remus’s chest. A warm, tanned hand pressed carefully along his clenched fist. A simple touch that didn’t hurt. James, who grew a sixth sense for things that upset the marauders, shook his head. Remus reluctantly buried his anger. He found it hard to be mad at James.

“It’s not just a note,” James said, frowning down at the floor. “It’s a full report.”

“For a sprained foot?” 

“A wampus cat attacked Regulus.”

“What?” Of all the wild rumors the castle managed to come up with, nobody had predicted that. It sounded too ridiculous to be true. Even the failed Gringotts break-in theory, while very unlikely, sounded at least plausible. 

Letting go of Remus, James touched his left cheek, “teeth,” he grabbed his right shoulder, “claws,” and shook his left foot, “jaws.”

“Wampus cat? Why would a wampus cat be in London? They’re native to America.”

His question fell on deaf ears. James sat on the foot of his bed and continued to mumble, “Regulus walked home late, and it attacked him. It bit his ankle, tore at something inside, and now it’s permanently damaged. He’s on a potion treatment for muscle pain. It’s a lot to take in. Sirius isn’t trying to push you away. He just needs time to process things first before he does something impulsive. You know he can be a bit…”

“Emotionally explosive?”

James let out a small laugh. “I was going to say dramatic.”

Remus took a deep, slow breath, feeling it push against his ribcage. Despite the dangerous beast that lived within him, the Blacks had teeth and claws of their own. Sinking them into your brain, never letting go, while feeding on your still-beating heart. Stealing pieces of your soul and coming back for more, until all that’s left is love and loss and a mess of every ugly thing you’ve ever tried to hide inside yourself. Sirius was a creature that had been consuming him since first year. And Remus could do nothing more than forgive him each time.

“Go to bed, James.” Remus stripped his robes off and laid down on his own bed. Willing the exhaustion to put him to sleep. “We’re all tired. We’ll talk about it later.”

***

They didn’t talk about it later. They didn’t talk about it at all. Swept it under the rug for another occasion. When Remus wasn’t about to tear himself apart. 

The moon would be full tonight, and the wolf sang in delight. Both of these things deeply annoyed Remus. His only comfort was the assurance that he would have the entire weekend to recover. No missed classes or make-up assignments to complete. Sure, he might miss an apparition lesson and won’t go to Hogsmeade, but both were a small price to pay for well-deserved bedrest.

The marauders knew to give him peace and quiet on the day of the full moon. The wolf crawled closer to Remus, sharing every careful breath, hunger, fear, and the ever-present desire to escape. 

The beast inhaled and filled their nose with a crowd of faceless witches and wizards, keeping track of prey and predator and every piece of flesh it could sink its teeth into. Remus exhaled and pushed back each lungful that kept the wolf—kept them—alive to bat away borrowed desires and intuitions that shouldn’t – didn’t – belong to him. Despite the ache pulsing in his limbs and the headache pounding in his skull, Remus continued with his Friday classes. 

Throughout the morning, Remus’s back found relief the further he hunched his shoulders down. His fingers began to curl into his hands, and his brain began to forget how to use opposable thumbs. By the afternoon, Remus’s notes had started to look incomprehensible.

Potions was the last class of the day. Professor Slughorn had been lecturing them about the composition of love potions. Remus didn’t think teaching a bunch of teenagers to brew love potions in the same month as Valentine’s was a good idea.

Slughorn had a small boiling cauldron on his desk and asked the students to stand around it. The liquid inside shimmered a bright pink color, and a delicate aroma assaulted all of their noses. New parchment, milky chocolate, and fresh spearmint engulfed his every breath.

“Who can guess what potion this is?” Slughorn said. Lily immediately raised her hand. “Yes, Miss Evans?”

“Amortentia,” Lily explained, “the strongest love potion ever made. Its smell is distinctive to each individual. Revealing the scents of what they love most.”

“Correct, five points to Gryffindor,” Slughorn praised before looking at the rest of the class expectantly. “We will spend the rest of next week learning how to brew Amortentia. Once brewed, each of you will describe what you smell.”

Once classes were dismissed, the students went to the Great Hall for dinner. Remus picked at his uneaten food. On any other day, he would have enjoyed the beef casserole and mashed potatoes, but today, his appetite couldn’t stomach cooked food. Showing up for dinner on the day of the full moon was only a formality. It was the last instance in which Remus could pretend to be normal until he had to head over to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey would then have the house-elves bring him uncooked meat to eat before escorting him to the Shrieking Shack.

“—still have no idea why Pandora needed all those raw steaks for—” Mary was saying.

“I heard rumors she’s been feeding the thestrals,” Lily added.

“—but before we could ask, Dorcas brought up the optional Patronus charm classes and wondered if we were signing up for them. Marlene got ahead of herself and said yes on the spot.”

Marlene banged her head on the table. “I panicked.”

“Now she has to sign up, or else she’ll make herself look bad in front of Dorcas.”

While Mary continued to tease Marlene, Lily shifted her attention to each of them. “Are any of you signing up for the Patronus classes?”

Sirius smiled smugly. “Already did.”

Remus’s fingers twitched. He curled and uncurled his fists. Trying to figure out the correct formation of his limbs.

“All of you?”

“When have we been known to do anything without each other?”

“I hope you’re not implying Remus was involved when you transfigured the third-floor staircases into a slide last week.”

“Our Remus would never take advantage of his prefect title,” James said.

Lily must have rolled her eyes. “Say it isn’t true, Remus.” 

Remus continued to stare at his hands. They were still oddly shaped, too long and thin, and his claws were missing. The skin was too soft. How was he going to hunt with such weak paws?

“—mus, Remus!”

Remus’s head jerked up, and the others were looking at him. Worried expressions on their faces.

“Are you feeling alright?” Mary asked, eyes squinting down at his untouched plate.

“Remus is having one of his off days,” Peter jumped in. “You know, his muggle condition?”

“Oh, I forgot you have one of those,” Marlene said. “What’s it called again?”

“Arthritis,” Lily answered.

“Come on, Remus,” James said, tugging on Remus’s sweater, drawing his attention away from how wrong he started to feel. “We’ll take you to Poppy.”

Exiting the Great Hall was like a breath of fresh air. His nose wasn’t as overwhelmed by all the mixed scents, which made his headache worse. The transformations were more terrible in the winter. The night fell faster, and the moon lasted longer in the sky. The daytime symptoms caught up with him quicker. The evening was barely setting in, and Remus was already having phantom sensations. In his distraction, James and Sirius made sure he kept to the path leading to the hospital wing. 

Once reaching Pomfrey, she had him lay down on a bed before sending a sharp look at his friends. They all said their goodbyes. James winked with the reminder that they’d see him soon. Peter might have mumbled a promise to stock up on chocolate. Sirius pressed a faint touch of lips to Remus's forehead. The wolf calmed down, holding his heart hostage but snoozing easily in his lungs.

The house-elves brought him a big portion of raw meat, blood still leaking on the plates, and he couldn’t contain the savage way he gorged it all up. When the haze of dead food washed away in his belly, Remus finally noticed the scent that still warmed the room. 

Teeth, claws, and untamed rage. With a hint of mint buried underneath. Remus had never been this close to it. Its strong presence let him know that whoever was prowling with it had been here recently. If not for Pomfrey’s calming draughts keeping Remus rather passive, he would have run out of the hospital wing in search of the threat that had been trespassing into his territory.

As the last rays of sunlight sank over the hills, Madam Pomfrey led him into the Whomping Willow. The journey to the Shrieking Shack gave Remus time to think. Questions picked at his brain, but the answers inhaled with every breath.

Alone in the shack—with the agony of too-tight flesh, cracking bones, and phantom limbs—a dawning realization rested on the tip of his nose. The potent smell of claws and teeth flooded his lungs. The same smell filled Remus’s senses when he transformed before the wolf took over. The same smell that began to haunt Remus in every corner of the castle. Exactly the same.

The pull of the night became too unbearable to keep himself together. Bones and organs shifted. Remolded themselves as they tore his body apart. Fur overlaying on skin. Face stretching painfully at his jaw. When the moon-deep madness consumed every part that made him Remus, he had a single second to think: There’s another werewolf at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

The year Sirius had left for Hogwarts was the first time Regulus had learned about change. He had been sent to stay with his uncle in France for a few weeks. Uncle Alphard, who loved herbology, had shown Regulus how to take care of the plants he kept in his villa house.

“The old soil stops giving the roots the nutrients they need,” Uncle Alphard explained, taking the minty houseplant outside to the gardens. “The pot is now too small to keep it alive. We have to put it in a larger space with new, rich soil. Even plants need to move on to bigger and better places to thrive. It is how they are able to become.”

Under his uncle’s gentle guidance, Regulus removed the plant from its pot. A tangle of roots curled around the clump of dirt. Hugging tightly to itself, seeking comfort. Knowing nothing more than the pot it was forced to shape itself into.

“The roots grow around the pot, trying to find more soil to live in. It finds clay walls instead, so it is forced to circle around repeatedly until it stops absorbing water correctly. The roots forget how to seek nutrients and slowly die.” Uncle Alphard took a pair of shears and cut around the edges of the mess of roots. “We trim off the parts that were killed off, so the parts that can still grow have the chance to keep living.”

Uncle Alphard called it the trials of growing up. You let go of things that can’t change with you. When it starts fitting too tight over your heart, and it hurts more than it loves you.

Regulus helped place the plant into the hole near the sunflowers. After patting down the new soil, he looked at his dirt-stained hands and swallowed the impulse to hide them away. Dreading anyone seeing a less-than-perfect state of his appearance. His mother wouldn’t let them have dinner if they revealed signs of disarray. Walburga would never lower herself to the standards of gardening.

“Uncle Alphard,” Regulus said, trying to shake the dirt off. “Why are we using our hands when you can use your wand?”

Uncle Alphard grabbed Regulus’s hands. He dusted off the dirt, and Regulus silently panicked at the thought of passing on his own filth. As if with a single touch, Uncle Alphard could feel every messy quality that made Regulus not good enough. “Magic is an easy solution, but not everything can be solved with a spell. Things done with real effort are more meaningful than things done with a single swish of a wand. My garden takes time and energy, but I love taking care of it.” He ruffled Regulus’s hair, ensuring that on this summer morning, he was allowed to be messy and small – a child. “I also love taking care of my young nephews. You both are growing up fast, and one day you will move on to bigger and better places. I am eager to see who you will become.”

Regulus had been anxious when Sirius moved on to Hogwarts without him. Becoming sounded daunting if it meant leaving behind everything you are. Regulus was Sirius’s little brother. Before he belonged to anyone, he had belonged to Sirius first. Sirius who soothed his tears and cradled him to sleep. Sirius who taught him to observe their parents’ behavior and hide in his room whenever they were in a bad mood. 

Aside from their cousins, all the Black brothers had was each other. They shared everything. It was inevitable, in Regulus’s ten-year-old mind, for them to one day share Hogwarts too. Sirius, who wore his heart on his sleeve, in the smile on his lips, in the defiance in his eyes, was sorted into Gryffindor. Even after that scandal and many screamed howlers from his mother, Regulus remained enchanted by the new life Sirius was getting to build. A new life they would get to share together.

Born out of ancient land, nursed with Black blood, and growing thorns like children grow teeth. Sirius had promised to make things better. Creating a future where a house could be a home. When he would inherit Grimmauld, he would get rid of the house-elf heads decorating the staircase because he knew they upset Regulus. 

There was order in how they learned to be. Sirius, who was always larger than life, went off ahead. The burden of the firstborn. Sirius sought out the world first, so he smoothed out the edges and eroded out the hard parts for Regulus. Because Sirius explored new frontiers and tore down their fences to pave new roads, Regulus charted the paths, scrutinized the dangers, and took caution at every step. 

Regulus, with his quiet demeanor, had been disappearing in the shadows. He’d learned his place under the coldness of Grimmauld, and hoped to sink into its darkness. Sirius, with fire in his heart, had been slowly dying in that cold, dark house. He was the brightest star, after all, and the Black name couldn’t contain him anymore.

Sirius craved a different life and was willing to destroy it entirely for a chance to change it. Regulus settled in it, willing to stick with what was familiar even if it was suffocating. Regulus didn’t care where they lived, under whose control they suffered, or what pains they endured. As long as they were together, it would all be worth it.

But Sirius crawled out of the shadows and basked in the morning sun. Had a taste of the light and was unwilling to return to everything that was Black. To everything that kept them together. To everything that made them brothers. Like they weren’t both watered with poison so black it became their name.

Regulus had thought that being at Hogwarts with Sirius would keep them close. The strings tying their souls together had been pulled too thin, too far, until something had to snap. Someone had to give in. Someone had to let go. It was inevitable, in Regulus’s fifteen-year-old mind, for Sirius to leave first.

So, it was no surprise when Sirius stormed out of the house one stormy summer night, never to return. He pulled himself out of the family garden, taking the very roots that had grown on its ancestral soil, and ran away to James Potter. Regulus could still remember the gray smoke that trailed after his mother, in the grief of a twisted kind of rotten love, had blasted Sirius off the family tapestry.

As Uncle Alphard promised, Sirius moved on to bigger and better places. First to Gryffindor, and then to the Potters. It was supposed to be a good thing. Unfortunately, Regulus hadn’t grown up as quickly as Sirius needed him to. Always needing to catch up. Regulus wasn’t ready, it often felt like he would never be ready. Now, ready or not, he had to. Another inevitability.

In the art of growing up, Sirius became a free man. In the art of growing up, Regulus became a monster.

***

When Regulus had first woken up after the attack, he had felt stiff and sore all over. He had found himself in Pandora’s lovely home. In a foggy state of disorientation, Regulus insisted he needed to return to Grimmauld in case the portraits tattled on his absence to his parents. Pandora’s mother, Selene Lovegood, a healer who worked for an independent wizarding clinic, insisted he stay until he recovered.

“We have to make sure you will survive the transition,” Mrs. Lovegood explained, in the same unperturbed tone Pandora often used. “I managed to patch up your wounds with those rings of yours, but we shouldn’t put too much stress on your still-healing body.”

Regulus lifted his hands to his face. They were stripped of the jewelry he often dressed his fingers in. Even the ring bearing the Black family crest was nowhere to be found. “Pardon? My rings?” Regulus asked, voice scratchy as he tried to comprehend what was being said to him. Survive? Was he dying? It certainly felt that way.

“The only source of silver we could get our hands on at such short notice. Powdered silver and dittany are the only treatments for werewolf bites. Though in the state you came in, the wound was left untreated for so long that the damaged nerves on your ankle—” Regulus’s mind tuned out the rest of Mrs. Lovegood’s report. Werewolf? Werewolf?

In that agonizing moment, Regulus begged for the death he was cheated out of. Almost pleading with the sweet woman to kill him. Surviving a werewolf bite wasn’t a lucky occurrence. It wasn’t a miraculous recovery. It was an eternal, irreversible curse. The Black family would kill him first, and Regulus didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of doing it. He wasn’t about to find a fate worse than disownment. 

“Why would I want you dead?” Pandora asked; fury in her rimmed-red eyes and tenderness in her unkempt hair.

“Why would you want me alive?” Regulus was poison and needed to stop infecting the people he cared about with his filth. With all the messy qualities that made Regulus not good enough. “I’m a disgusting half-breed now. A dangerous beast.”

Pandora grabbed his shaking hands, soothing the panic in his skin. “You were my friend first, so you will be my friend forever. Beast and all.”

“I can’t live this way, Dora.” A sob tore from his throat, and he allowed himself to fall apart in Pandora’s arms.

“You have to, and you will. We’ll be with you every step of the way.”

The Lovegoods lived and breathed absolutes, so when Pandora promised to build a life around his curse, she did. Pandora called the rest of their friends. A part of Regulus expected a breakage. A friendship formed of iron can still melt under intense heat. There should be disgust, anger, and betrayal. There wasn’t.

They all arrived within hours, assessed the severity of the situation, and went to work.

Evan and Barty researched laws and werewolf history. Evan found that werewolf registration was not mandatory. The Ministry could not force Regulus to expose himself. He advised following the Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637 as a framework for coexisting in the wizarding world.

“All that really matters is that you don’t attack anyone when you’re transformed,” Evan said, keeping eye contact with Regulus when he ripped the anti-werewolf pamphlets into pieces.

Barty got into a heated rant about the debate over the proper classification of werewolves. Finalizing a list of points for why they should be considered beings over beasts.

“It’s basic math. Even muggles can do it,” Barty spouted, highlighting point 13. “Out of three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, they are transformed werewolves for only twelve nights.”

Pandora used her clever Ravenclaw brain to create a cover story for his injuries. She weaved an elaborate tale of a runaway wampus cat named Dulcinea who escaped a traveling circus in search of a way back home to the Americas.

“What was Dulcinea’s plan after that?” Barty interrupted. “Sail by boat? There’s a whole ocean between Great Britain and America.”

“She’ll meet a nice creature-loving wizard who will sneak her onto a ship and personally escort her home,” Pandora said with a faraway look in her eye.

Dorcas hummed. “Sounds like someone’s Newt Scamander crush is showing.”

“Ew, he’s as old as Dumbledore. Pandora, why? "

“Mr. Scamander is the perfect man, and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.”

Mrs. Lovegood wrote an official health report, without Pandora’s detailed story, of a wampus cat attack. It would serve him well when he returned to Hogwarts, and it would add another layer of credibility to their lies. When Regulus was calmer, she sat down by his bedside and thoroughly explained the extent of his injuries.

Because his wounds were caused by a dark magical creature, he will always carry the scars on his face and shoulder. The actual werewolf bite on his leg had closed well enough to start scarring over, but the damage to the muscles had been left untreated for so long that it wouldn’t heal properly. Regulus’s ankle couldn’t support his weight anymore, and he would have a permanent limp.

“It could have been worse, but you had just enough luck.” Mrs. Lovegood tied a rabbit’s foot charm to the curtain holder of the guest bedroom Regulus was staying in. “What are hard times if not surrounded by all the people you love?” 

Regulus stopped himself from correcting her by saying that not all of them were there. Sirius had a way of always lingering in his thoughts. Everything circled back to him. And yet, Regulus had learned with the passing of time that, at some point, you must build your own life. You have to walk your own path. 

If he was to survive at Hogwarts with a limp, he needed to perfect each step. It had to look effortless and purposeful. Regulus couldn’t give the other students reasons to look down on him. Needed to wrap himself in power and prestige. He couldn’t let them see what he’d become.

Least of all, Sirius.

Dorcas, whose family owned farms that harvested trees for wands and brooms, obtained a beautifully crafted cane. She helped him practice how to use it and scolded him when he refused to take breaks.

“I mean it, Black,” Dorcas threatened. “You move out of that chair, and I promise I’ll drag your arse back to bed. I won’t even use my wand.”

“Not my arse.” Regulus rolled his eyes but sank down in Mr. Lovegood’s armchair. “How ever will I sit without my arse?”

Dorcas threw a crumpled paper ball at his head. With her impeccable beater aim Regulus resigned himself as it struck right between his brows. She had been compiling a list of provisions needed to ensure they could handle Regulus’s curse once they returned to Hogwarts. 

There wasn’t much they knew about werewolves aside from a brief lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Or what was cautioned in children’s bedtime stories. They didn’t know what the first transformation would do to him, or the effects that would linger in his everyday life.

Regulus only knew of one werewolf. Remus Lupin, with his sandy brown hair, soft sweaters, and rugged scars, was an astronomical phenomenon.

Regulus discovered that secret by the end of his third year. An accidental realization. For all the times he stargazed looking for his brother, Lupin orbited the gravitational force surrounding Sirius. It wasn’t difficult after that to notice the patterns that cycled each month. How everything aligned with the push and pull of the moon.

Sirius made it no secret how diligently he kept track of the moon phases, either. Charted it carefully every summer. He’d sit out on the roof of Grimmauld, long after their parents had gone to sleep, to gaze longingly at the bright white spot in the sky.

It was one of the reasons he’d gifted Sirius a moon globe. Ironically, he was in need of one now. Regulus swallowed the bitter thought.

He wasn’t afraid of Sirius rejecting him for being a werewolf. His brother was in love with one. But Regulus feared there was only enough space in Sirius’s life for one werewolf. Lupin occupied that space long before Regulus needed it. That’s fine. Perhaps that’s what’s supposed to happen. It was, after all, the trials of growing up.

***

Regulus Black could never stop being a burden. His friends took great risks to ensure his safety. It irked him just as much to place that weight on them. Regardless of how voluntary they insisted their involvement was. 

He had argued against using the Shrieking Shack. Unfortunately for Regulus, it was already occupied. Another accidental discovery. During the times he would go to the owlery after dinner to deliver Narcissa’s secret letters to a disowned Andromeda, he would stop to glance out the window facing the Whomping Willow. He had witnessed Madam Pomfrey lead a tired-looking Lupin through the tree on multiple occasions. All of them were under a full moon. It didn’t take long to connect the rumors surrounding the haunting of the Hogsmeade shack.

Most of his friends were unaware of the other furry little problem inhabiting Hogwarts. Regulus made sure to avoid Sirius and his band of marauders. Partly, because he didn’t want to explain anything (didn’t know how to even begin broaching the subject), and because Lupin would have smelled the lycanthropy forming under his skin.

As stated in Hairy Snout, Human Heart, their most reliable source according to Dorcas, a werewolf’s senses increased the closer they were to a full moon. Regulus’s body tried to adjust to these changes, though it was often too much. The mingled scents of hundreds of teenagers. The echoing sounds of castle walls. The sharp clarity of darkness. Evan had resorted to paying Zabini, a seventh-year witch, to brew dulling potions for him. 

Regulus was on the brink of his first transformation. Evan and Barty had escorted him to their chosen spot as evening set in, just north of the Whomping Willow. Their preventive measures would not only stop him from dangerously roaming around the forest, but Pandora also hoped they would stop him from hurting himself. Foolish little boy, there’s no escaping misery.

The Forbidden Forest was strangely quiet. Darkness cramped together by the dozen lines of tree trunks. Their tall clumps of leafy branches obscured the night sky. For once, Regulus preferred it that way. The stars couldn’t comfort him tonight. 

Bright white light seeped through the cracks of dense forest leaves, illuminating the equally white ground floor. Pure, untouched snow glowed like cold fireflies. The chill of winter blew puffs of snowflakes over his heated skin, catching on his hair and transfigured clothes. Regulus tilted his head back, leaning against the bark of an old thick ancient oak tree. The thick iron chains tying him to the tree rustled as he eased the weight off his mangled ankle.

The potion treatment he’d received from Madam Pomfrey helped alleviate the pain that still lingered in his leg. But those potions couldn’t alleviate the pain pulsing through his muscles—an unbearable ache. He woke up that morning feeling bigger than his body could hold. As if his bones were all wrong, and his limbs too small. Something prowled in the pit of his stomach, and he’d restrained himself from sinking teeth where they didn’t belong.

He could still smell the stench of blood on his breath. Regulus craved it so ardently that he chewed on his tongue until he drew it from his own flesh. Bile rose in his throat. How vile, how repulsive, and how utterly savage of him to want it. 

Pandora had tricked the house-elves from delivering the raw steaks meant for Hagrid’s creatures by taking them for Regulus. He couldn’t let himself throw up all her hard work. Loathe as he was to have given her reason for it.

A moon-drunk haze frosted over his brain. The new overwhelming senses intently surrounded him. Rough, patchy tree bark dug into his aching spine. Distant snow crunching under a herd of hooves. Someone breathing, blood exhaling and inhaling into his nose, panting clouds of overheated lungs into the cold air. A swift-beating heart pounding against its cage.

His hands twitched, had been twitching, and continued to twitch uncontrollably. Regulus began to thrash around in his chains. The feeling of skin too tight on his body choked him up completely. The urge to tear it apart consumed him with the need to escape his very bones. A viciousness eagerly crawled to the front of his head. 

Regulus’s screams rang into the night. A deep, wild bloodlust shook through his limbs as an excruciating pain cracked something inside of him. Breaking out of his skin. Breaking free. Reshaping the essence of everything he was. Answering the call of the moonlight streaming through the forest.

Tree bark.

Crunching snow.

Someone breathing.

Shadows fell across the ground, bathing it in darkness on its white, fluffy surface. It was too fresh and clean to mean anything. Foreign scents in a foreign wilderness. A new home to be explored?

He pushed forward and whined when strong metal locked him against a sturdy tree. Hunger gurgled in his stomach. The desire to hunt was demanding. Fangs chewed on the confinements, trying to grind them down and break free. He thrashed against it. A sharp bark echoed when the pressure on his hind paw caused an equally sharp pain to travel up his leg. It made him thrash around even more. Regardless of the pain.

A howl pierced through the sky and made his ears perk up. Where are you? He took a breath and poured all the agony into the answer. A lonely howl. I’m here, come find me.

It didn’t take long before the sound of crunching snow grew closer. A rushed pattern of steps indicated that whoever was making the sound was running quickly. Until they slowed. Through the darkness of the treelines, two bright golden-brown eyes stared at him. A long snout panted puffs of air, breathing heavily. The creature walked forward, letting the light of the moon dazzle along its brown fur. He sniffed at the air; a heavy musk fresh from the snow and smaller intermingled scents covered the forest. This territory belonged to the other.

He growled when the other wolf tried to get closer. The other wolf was free. He was not. There was a disadvantage. The lack of familiarity in the scent meant they weren’t packmates. The other wolf could kill him if it thought he was intruding on its home. He whined. Who are you?

The other wolf’s ears perked up. It held its tail high with confidence, knowing he was no real threat. It looked upward, where the moon shone and snarled. Moony. The wolf whined back. Who are you?

Before he could answer, a sharp bark sounded through the trees. The same direction Moony had run from. Crunching snow echoed again. Multiple steps were thrumming on the ground. A much smaller black wolf emerged from the bushes, followed by a tall stag with large antlers. On the stag’s head was a small gray rat. Moony turned his head and whimpered at them. Pack.

The smaller wolf circled around Moony, playfully nipping at his legs. Moony wagged his tail as if preparing to play, but the stag trotted forward and beat a hoof on the snow, calling their attention. The rat squeaked in alarm. The smaller wolf crouched low and barked at him fiercely. Threat. Leave.

Moony pushed the other wolf down to stop its barking. Moony whined again. Who are you?

He tucked his tail between his legs. Moony smelled older than him, with a strong scent coating much of the forest, and a strange pack that could be relied on. There was a disadvantage. He didn’t have a pack to name him as Moony did. Nothing.  He whimpered. Pack?

The smaller wolf barked and pressed down on its paw multiple times. Padfoot. The stag swung its head, displaying his antlers around. Prongs. The rat squirmed before wiggling its tail. Wormtail.

Padfoot walked closer, and he growled in warning at the uncomfortable proximity. Snapped his jaws for good measure. Moony bared his teeth and growled at him. Don’t hurt.

Padfoot was close enough to sniff. Unlike Moony, there was no heavy musk, just the smell of thick fur, sweaty paws, and the unusual scent of mint. Unusual in the sense that, unlike everything else in this forest, it’s a more familiar scent. Pack? No pack? Confusing.

He allowed Padfoot to reach him. The smaller wolf sniffed at him too. Padfoot sneezed specks of snowflakes and whined. Who are you? He barked, crouching low to press his snout against the dark silhouette on the snow. Shadow.

Shadow.

Shadow. 

Shadow.

Moony howled a low chorus. Padfoot joined in with a higher pitch. My home. Our home. Safe.

Prongs walked closer too, but unlike Moony and Padfoot, Prongs was no wolf. Shadow snapped his jaws at the stag, pushing against the confinements as saliva dripped down his fangs. The bloodlust returned. Stomach grumbling for food. Prongs smelled of thin fur and pine. Something delectable stirred inside him at the scent. Craved it deeply beyond physical hunger.

The rat squeaked again, running down Prongs’s back and squeaking rapidly at Moony. Eaten? Scared. Worried. No eat.

Moony growled and ran to Shadow. The other wolf chomped on his front paw in warning. Pack, no eat. Shadow cried out. It hurt. Moony wasn’t letting go. Shadow had not agreed. He didn’t want to submit. They were not his pack. This was not his home. He was trapped. He was angry. Shadow was scared.

Padfoot tackled Moony. A bloody jaw unhooked from his paw. He watched Padfoot and Moony growl at each other. Wormtail squeaked again, more worried than scared. Prongs leaped between them, hooves stomping the ground in frustration.

Shadow licked what he could reach of his paw, blood pouring down and dripping on the white snow. His tail remained tucked between his legs. Nervous and anxious. But he kept his head held high when he barked at them. Leave. Alone. Leave.

Moony snarled, tail held high, and teeth bared. You, enemy?

Shadow snorted. Me, alone.

Stop! Padfoot barked at them both.

Prongs stomped again. His head craned down to point his antlers at Moony. The other wolf whined in offense, backing up from the sharp tips. Prongs steered Moony away, back in the direction they had all come from.

The deer, wolf, and rat disappeared into the trees.

Padfoot approached, and Shadow was too defeated to care anymore. The smaller wolf licked at the bleeding paw. Letting out a strained whimper. Hurt.

Shadow huffed. Strangely feeling calmer. With the other creature distracting him, Shadow didn’t feel the need to bite himself in the same way Moony had bitten him: violently. Instead, he felt tired. Adrenaline washed away even when the desire to run and hunt remained.

Another howl filled the forest. Follow me.

Padfoot turned away to follow the rest of the pack. He looked back at Shadow and barked. Who are you?

Shadow gazed down at the dark shape pulling out of his legs and whined sharply. Shadow.

Padfoot barked again. A more delighted sound. And wagged his tail, before running away.

It became quieter after that. He knew the others still lingered somewhere in the forest, but they never came back. The light of the moon changed its angle, the only sign of time passing. Shadow became restless again. Stomach still rumbling for flesh and blood. He tried to claw and bite at himself, but the metal tying him to the tree didn’t let up.

Shadow’s skin began to feel too big. Tried to curl into himself to fit into the small spaces he couldn’t recognize. His mouth: too long. His teeth: too sharp. Too many emotions were suffocating in his lungs. Too many thoughts that didn’t—shouldn’t—belong to him.

The sky soon brightened with softer blues. Hints of green and purple crawled from the east. His time was up. As he slipped away back into the darkness of an unknown prison, he understood the significance of the morning. Shadow wasn’t meant to ever see the sun.

Chapter Text

Remus woke up disoriented. His head pulsed in pain. Groggy, as if disturbed mid-nap. It took a moment for his brain to connect back to his body, which felt sore all over. Unlike the last moon, there were no open wounds or shredded skin. An overall good moon. Or as tolerable as a transformation could be.

The weight of a soft blanket against his naked skin eased the chill of the winter morning. Usually, the marauders would stay with him until they had to sneak away before Madam Pomfrey came to collect him. They chatted sleepily about the midnight mischief, helping Remus’s more human consciousness connect with the wolf’s moon-drunk memories. Today, the marauders were rapidly half-whispering and half-yelling at each other.

“—supposed to know?” Peter asked, the panic making his voice reach two pitches higher than usual.

“The staff doesn’t know,” James answered, obviously trying to remain calm for everyone. “Poppy would have told Remus something about it. Which means it’s not a new first-year student.”

Remus could taste the faint coppery stains of dried blood on his mouth. Did he eat a stray rabbit again?

Silence rang between the boys. A slight creak of the floorboards broke the tension when Remus attempted to haul himself into a sitting position. Hands immediately assisted his efforts. Easing his sensitive limbs as they rested on a warm body. Remus leaned against Sirius, who carefully caressed his hand. A simple touch that didn't hurt.

The familiar scent of fresh spearmint relaxed his shaking nerves, and he pressed his nose against Sirius’s neck to breathe it in. Remus choked on the inhale. Sirius was covered in other scents. Prongs’s sharp pine. Wormtail’s sweet honey. Moony’s thick musk. But there was another foreign scent. The wolf didn’t like that smell being on Sirius. It wasn’t part of the pack. A disgruntled rumble worked itself out of Remus’s throat. Its minty smell mixed with Sirius’s natural scent in a way that shouldn’t belong but strangely did. It was confusing and infuriating at the same time.

It was only then that all the memories rushed back to him. The revelation in the Shrieking Shack. The moonlit howl. Moony had never howled in the Forbidden Forest before. There was no need. His pack was always with him.

“Moony, are you with us?” Sirius asked. Fingers brushed against Remus’s sweat-soaked bangs. Gently tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear.

Remus gasped a shaky breath. “There’s another—!”

“Another werewolf in Hogwarts,” James interrupted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses over his head to rub at his tired eyes.

“Oh fuck, I called for him,” Remus said. He wanted to squeeze Sirius’s hand, but his muscles were too weak to follow that course of action.

“What?” Peter leaned back against James. A hand covering his face as if to shield himself from the present moment.

“He was here the whole time, but I didn’t—” Remus pressed the rest of his face into the crook of Sirius’s neck, taking a page from Peter’s book and hiding away. “I didn’t know until I was transforming in the shack. Moony howled to find him.”

“Wait, back up,” Sirius continued, caressing Remus’s hands, “he was here the whole time?”

“Ever since we came back from the holidays, I kept noticing a scent around the castle. It was…unique to all the other smells I was familiar with. Last night proved my instincts were warning me about another werewolf.”

“You smelled another werewolf, and you didn’t tell us?”

“I didn’t know it was another werewolf until now. I’ve never been around one before to know what to look out for.” Remus bit back a snarl. The wolf was angry at him for allowing another werewolf too close to its territory. His mouth still tasted of dried blood, and the foggy memory of sharp fangs on black fur assaulted his mind.

He backed away from Sirius, letting his eyes roam over the other boy in his simple pants and shirt. He couldn’t find any injuries, but Sirius could just be hiding them. “Did I hurt you?”

“What? No!” Sirius pulled him back into his embrace. “Uh, but you did bite the other bloke.”

“But that’s okay,” Peter rushed in, “it was going to eat James.”

“It wasn’t going to eat me. It was chained tightly to the oak tree,” James said. “But it was funny to watch it try.”

Chains. There was something familiar about the word. Something familiar about the event. Wormtail was worried the other wolf would try to eat Prongs. Moony needed to protect his pack, and he attacked in warning. Then Padfoot intervened. Padfoot tackled Moony. Padfoot scolded Moony. Padfoot defended Shadow.

“—can’t believe Padfoot named it,” Peter was saying. “Why would you name it? We don’t even know who that was.”

“I don’t think there was anything wrong with that, but it’s strange it didn’t have a name,” James said, using the corner of his shirt to wipe his glasses.

“It’s not strange,” Remus said. “Moony didn’t have a name either.” They all paused to stare at him.

“What do you mean Moony didn’t have a name? You’re Remus Lupin, aren’t you?” Sirius asked with an incredulous lift of his eyebrows.

Remus wasn’t sure how to explain. The wolf never thought of itself as Remus. Alone in the cellar, it was all about instincts, survival, and freedom. A name wasn’t something a werewolf could choose; it was something that had to be given. You only ever needed a name when there was someone else who could use it. “Werewolves don’t name themselves.”

Before Sirius opened his mouth to ask more, James spoke up. “We’re getting off topic here. There’s another werewolf student running around Hogwarts that the staff doesn’t know about. We should find them and let them share the shack with Remus.”

“No,” Remus said firmly, finally finding enough strength to squeeze Sirius’s hand. 

“No?” Good old James. Every bit a Gryffindor. Wanting to help everyone.

“If he wants to stay hidden, then he’ll stay hidden. I wouldn’t want anyone confronting me about it, and neither would he.” James had good intentions, but you shouldn’t just out a werewolf like that. Remus thought back to the late-night library confrontation. Had the Slytherins suspected him, or did they find out about the other werewolf?

“So that’s it?” Peter slid down James’s back until he splayed on the floor. “We’re just going to ignore it?”

Remus nodded, wincing a bit at the sharp headache. “That’s it. The other student is doing a good job of keeping himself restrained. That’s really all that should matter.”

“Shouldn’t we be worried it saw us? It knows Moony’s here too.”

“Don’t worry about that, Pete. He won’t remember.” From Moony’s hazy memories, he noticed the other wolf smelled much younger. Not in age, but in the length of time Shadow has existed.

“But you remember.”

“I’ve had Moony for most of my life. I learned to navigate through his memories, but that wasn’t always the case.”

Sirius let go of his hand, pulled the blanket closer around Remus’s shoulders, and stood up. He ran a hand through his long black hair and sighed, “I guess I don’t really know Moony as well as I think I did.”

Remus felt a burst of affection for Sirius, but Moony growled at Padfoot’s defiance. The wolf hadn’t forgotten how the dog stopped him from putting the other wolf in its place. Moony hadn’t forgotten how well Shadow and Padfoot’s scents mixed. Remus would blame it on the wolf when he replied, “I didn’t know Padfoot as well either.”

They stared at each other. Remus silently dared Sirius to confess. Confess to what? He wasn’t sure. Why did he protect the other wolf? Why did he name it? Sirius didn’t answer.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, and the smell of Pepperup Potions from the hospital wing caught his nose. The boys were still here. They forgot to sneak out. “You should hide. Pomfrey is on her way.”

Peter sat up before shrinking back down into a rat. James picked him up and pulled out the invisibility cloak from his pocket. Sirius tilted his head, letting his hair fall over his face before shifting into a big black dog. James spread the cloak over them, and they all disappeared from sight.

After Pomfrey led him out of the Whomping Willow and brought him to the hospital wing, he sank into the warm mattress. A first-year Slytherin sneezed three times in quick succession, four rows away from him. Reginald Cattermole, a sixth-year Hufflepuff, looking very green, held a bucket on his lap.

Remus, about to doze off, knowing his friends would visit in the afternoon once they’d all been rested, was jolted awake at the sound of the entrance doors slamming open.

“Mr. Crouch! Mind your manners.”

Crouch waltzed in with a determined look on his face and a crooked nose dripping with blood. Dorcas and Lovegood flanked him. Remus wanted to bury himself under the sheets. He hadn’t forgotten the library confrontation and didn’t know how much the Slytherins knew about werewolves.

Crouch opened his mouth to speak, but Dorcas beat him to it. “Madam Pomfrey, there was an accident on the moving staircases. Barty broke his nose.” Dorcas pushed Crouch over to Pomfrey, who used her wand to examine the injury. Pomfrey walked towards her medicine cabinet and grabbed a vial of potion. She fixed Crouch’s broken nose with a healing spell and instructed him to drink the potion to help with the bone-mending. 

Lovegood sauntered over to the healer, keeping Pomfrey’s back turned from the still-opened cabinet, to ask, “Hypothetically speaking, if a witch drank both a weakening potion and a strength potion at the same time, which effect would the body—” Lovegood continued her lengthy question. Remus saw from the view of his bed when Dorcas swished the wand she held behind her back, and three different potion bottles levitated into her hands.

“Ms. Lovegood, if you are implying to test that—”

“Alright,” Crouch loudly interrupted. He waved the empty potion vial and jumped off the bed. Wiping the blood off his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, staining it red. “I’m all cured. We can go now.” When he walked by Dorcas, she slipped the potions into Crouch’s hands. Keeping them hidden from Pomfrey’s line of sight.

“Thank you for all your help, Madam Pomfrey,” Lovegood said, shaking the Matron’s hand before following Crouch and Dorcas out of the hospital wing. Pomfrey looked equally baffled and annoyed at their retreating backs.

As a prefect, Remus should alert Pomfrey of the theft. As a werewolf, he was beyond exhausted to care. Pomfrey’s dulling potion finally kicked in, and, with the ache in his limbs easing away, Remus fell asleep to the sounds of Cattermole retching his guts out.

***

A couple of days after the full moon, Remus tried not to think too hard about the identity of the other werewolf. Sirius and James made a game out of it. They promised not to confront the bloke about it, but they believed it wouldn’t do much harm to try and guess who he was. 

So far, they’ve decided he couldn’t be a Gryffindor or a sixth-year student, otherwise, Remus would have plenty of occasions to stumble onto the other sooner than he did.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Professor Slughorn said. The Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years shared Potions that afternoon. They finally finished brewing their Amortentia potions, and the professor was passing around to inspect each one. “Please describe the aromas you detect in the potion.”

James leaned over the cauldron and peered inside, nose sniffing at the fog dancing in the air. “A woody broomstick, warm sugar, and, uh,” James paused as if thinking it over. “Peppermint.”

Remus’s brow arched at the list. None of those scents described their red-haired friend. Lily smelled of warm toast, green tea, and sweet lilies.

“Mr. Lupin?”

Remus blinked out of his thoughts. Without sniffing at the cauldron, he knew his answer. “New parchment,” crinkled pages flipped through hours of reading, hours of pretending he was someone other than himself; “milky chocolate,” rich creamy sweetness that eased a sour mood, a recipe for temporary joy; “and fresh spearmint,” a boy with dark hair and gray eyes squeezing at his heart, devouring love itself.

Slughorn wrote something on his clipboard. “Excellent work, boys. Please bottle up your potion and leave it in the cupboard for full marks.” He nodded and moved on to the next working pair.

Remus poured the potion into a bottle and noticed James’s far-off expression. The other boy leaned over the table, head resting on his arm. Remus glanced towards the front of the classroom, where Marlene laughed a bit too loudly at something Dorcas had said. Peter helped Priscilla Parkison pour their potion into a bottle. Sirius and Caradoc Dearborn snickered at each other after launching an enchanted paper dragon at the back of Snape’s greasy head. Mary looked flushed and swatted at Lily’s teasing smile. “Not what you were expecting, mate?”

James frowned slightly. “You were so sure of your answers.”

“You weren’t?”

“I recognized the first smells: Quidditch and home. But that last smell…”

Remus hunched over their table. Keeping his voice closer to a whisper. “You didn’t recognize it?”

“I know I smelled peppermint, but I don’t know why?”

“Because it’s not what Lily smells like?”

James buried the rest of his face into the crook of his elbow. Doubt settled in. James had been pursuing Lily since second-year. Remus noticed James hadn’t done any of his romantic plots to convince Lily to go on a date with him since the start of the school year. Four years was a long time to be pining after someone (Remus would know) to suddenly have all those feelings thrown out the window by a love potion. 

After Slughorn dismissed them and the rest of the class shuffled out, Remus and the marauders went back to their dorm. The thoughtful look stayed with James the entire time. 

Peter lay on his bed, quill balanced on his pursed lips, hunched over scattered notes and paper, continuously flipping through the History of Magic textbook. Sirius sat on the floor, pulling apart a record player (not Remus’s, or there would have been dire consequences). Remus sat on his bed with a book on his lap. James laid on his back on Remus’s bed, and tossed around the snitch he’d stolen last year from the Quidditch pitch. A rare quiet night for the boys. No pranks, no parties, no shouting matches. The rest of the day would have gone by peacefully had Sirius not spoken up about their Potions assignment.

“What did you smell in the Amortentia?” Sirius aimed his question at Remus with a flirty tilt on his lips. James stopped tossing the snitch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Remus answered, not looking up from his book even though he had read the same line twice already.

“Yes. That’s why I asked, arsehole.”

“Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Cool nights, black tea, and some other third thing.”

“And what would that be?”

Sirius smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Remus’s chest filled with warmth, hoping blood wasn’t rushing to his face. 

Peter coughed loudly. Remus’s tunnel vision zoomed out of Sirius and focused back on their dorm room. Their occupied dorm room. 

“If anyone cares,” Peter said, twirling the quill around his fingers. “I smelled wild berries, clean bedsheets, and Mum’s apple pie.”

“Your mum does make an excellent pie,” Remus commented. Peter’s family owned a bakery. He often shared the pastries his mum would send on special occasions.

“Oi! I told you mine, Moony,” Sirius cut in, “tell me yours.”

Like muscle memory, Remus's tongue formed the words he knew by heart now: “New parchment, milky chocolate, and fresh spearmint.”

Sirius blinked. He pinched at the fabric of his shirt and pulled it up to his nose. “Spearmint?”

“Padfoot does have a minty smell,” Peter said, finally closing his textbook. “But to be fair, you didn’t really tell us what that third smell was.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Sweaters.”

“Sweaters?”

Sirius’s eyes raked down Remus’s form. “Sweaters.”

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have asked.” Peter threw a pillow at Sirius’s face.

They all laughed good-naturedly, but James remained quiet the entire time. He still lay on the bed, staring up at the canopy, lost in thought.

“Prongs, we lost you there, mate,” Sirius called. James finally sat up but kept his eyes on the snitch in his hand.

“We haven’t heard from James yet,” Peter said.

“Bet it had a floral smell.” Sirius wagged his eyebrow suggestively.

“Yeah, James, tell us what you love.”

Before James could open his mouth to reply, a knock on the door interrupted. Peter opened the door, and Lily stood at the threshold. Her floral perfume mixed partway into the room. Remus saw James flinch slightly, then look back down at the snitch. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything but Sirius, there's someone looking for you in the hall.”

“Who?”

“Your brother.”

The room held its breath. Letting the words sink into the silence as their meaning finally registered in their brains. They all scrambled out of their spots and crowded Lily by the door.

“He’s here?” Sirius breathed. 

She nodded. “Outside the portrait. The Fat Lady’s been chatting him up.” Lily moved out of the way before Sirius could push her aside in his haste down the stairs. 

Remus and the others stayed on the spiral stairs but walked low enough to peek into the common room. Lily rolled her eyes, yet leaned against Remus to observe with them. Her perfume was rather strong that day, completely clogging his nose with the smell of it.

The entrance to the common room was open. Sirius grabbed Regulus’s arm to steady his balance when he stepped over the portrait door.

“I don’t need your help,” Regulus’s lip curled into a sneer.

“For all I care, you can fall on your face,” Sirius barked back.

Neither did Regulus shrug his brother off, nor did Sirius let go of his arm. The cane thumped on the floor on their way to sit on one of the unoccupied couches. 

Frank and Amelia Bones, Head Boy and Girl, sat on the other couch. No doubt discussing prefect schedules and their upcoming N.E.W.T. exams. Alice sat on the floor below them, back leaning against Frank’s legs, and wrote away on her piece of parchment. None of them noticed the Black brothers sitting a couple of feet away.

“I forget how much of an eyesore your common room is,” Regulus commented, glancing around the room before sparring the seventh-years a quick pensive look. 

The younger boy sat perfectly straight, hands resting over the cane slotted between his legs, and titled his smooth neck to raise a graceful eyebrow at his brother. Sirius leaned back on the pillows, perfectly at ease, with his arms spread over the couch like he owned it. Soft black hair curtained his cheeks when he titled his own smooth neck to give Regulus an equally mocking look. Stupid, beautiful Black genes.

Sirius scoffed. “As if the dungeons are any better.”

“No, they’re not,” Regulus conceded, but continued to look disapprovingly at the room. “But at least it's not as pretentious about overusing the color green. I half expect the floors to be painted red each time I come here.” 

“Alright, you cheeky git, let the poor common room live. You didn’t have to hurt its feelings.”

“It’s a room, Sirius, it doesn’t have feelings.”

“Shows what you know.”

A small twitch of his lips smoothed Regulus’s otherwise blank face until he closed his eyes as if bracing himself for the conversation he was about to have with his brother. They all leaned closer, trying to catch any clue as to why Regulus had finally shown up after practically ignoring Sirius since returning to Hogwarts. 

None of them received their answer when Regulus opened his mouth and said something completely foreign to Remus’s realm of knowledge: the French language. Both brothers spoke in soft tones, words flowing elegantly between sentences, and composing symphonies of conversation. At least, that’s what it sounded like to Remus. Sirius could say the crudest things in French and still make them sound alluring. 

At one point, Sirius retrieved the shrunken moon globe from his pocket to show it to Regulus. As far as Remus was aware, Sirius had taken to carrying the thing with him everywhere. Regulus flinched slightly and mumbled something that had Sirius barking with laughter.

Lily soon grew bored of the eavesdropping. She wasn’t going to get any information out of a language she didn’t understand, so she left to walk back to her own dorm. When she passed through the common room, Regulus’s nose scrunched up as if smelling something unpleasant. Sirius kept talking, but Regulus’s eyes roamed the room once more before landing on the spiraling staircase and making contact with Remus.

“I believe,” Regulus said in English, interrupting Sirius mid-conversation. “It’s getting rather late. I should head back to the dorms before dinner time. I wouldn’t want to walk into the Great Hall with unbearable company.” 

Sirius slapped his face with a pillow, ruffling his sleek curls at the impact, and Regulus’s careful disposition crumbled. Fierce anger blazed in his gray eyes, and the intensity of it reminded Remus of the same eleven-year-old who hadn’t yet perfected how to carefully conceal his emotions. 

Regulus whacked Sirius’s leg with his cane. At Sirius’s yelp, he grabbed that same pillow and repeatedly hit Sirius over the head with it. Sirius wasn’t bothered by the assault. A large grin overtook his face when he caught Regulus in a headlock.

Remus heard James let out a small laugh, looking equally delighted as he watched the brothers roughhouse in their common room.

The loud sound of a throat clearing froze the brothers in place. Regulus’s head was still locked in Sirius’s arms while his hands were pulling at Sirius’s hair. They let go of each other to turn their attention toward Amelia.

“I heard you were heading back to your dorm,” Amelia said, hugging some textbooks to her chest. “I am as well, but I was wondering if you’d be alright if I accompanied you out.”

Regulus smoothed down his tousled curls and pushed against Sirius to lift himself up. He leaned into his cane to take a polished step forward. Remus then noticed the bandages wrapped around Regulus’s left hand. “I won’t mind, Bones. You’d be much more pleasant company than my uncivilized brother.”

Sirius stood up to wrap his arm around Regulus in a sideways hug. “Oi! I resent that. I’m a delight to have around.”

Regulus clicked his tongue. “Among jesters perhaps.” He elbowed Sirius out of the way before presenting his arm to Amelia.

Amelia laughed and looped her hand into the crook of his elbow. They walked toward the entrance.

“How is Rory doing?” Amelia asked, allowing Regulus to help her over the portrait door. “My little brother doesn’t tell me these things anymore.”

“Still rather upset at being a substitute chaser,” Regulus replied, allowing Amelia to assist him over the door as well. “Though he won’t admit Anita Greengrass is a much better—”

The portrait door closed behind them. Frank and Alice had said their goodbyes to Amelia before she left, and they retreated back to their own rooms. The marauders tumbled down the stairs to reach Sirius, who remained in the now-empty common room.

“How’d it go, Pads?” James asked, his earlier sullen mood forgotten.

“He came clean about the wampus cat attack, he’d been sneaking out of Grimmauld while our parents were away. I guess Reggie is finally growing into himself.” Sirius smiled lopsidedly. A quiet kind of happiness that was still too delicate to properly express. “I think things between us are going to be good again.”

If Sirius’s scent mingled with faint traces of feral wilderness and peppermint, Remus sneezed Lily’s perfume out of his nostrils and didn’t comment on it.

***

The Patronus Charm classes started up not long after that. They met up in a dungeon room near the Potions classroom. Two professors conducted the lessons. Professor Gastrell, the DADA professor, described the properties and purpose of the defensive charm. Professor McGonagall oversaw the group as they attempted to practice the spell’s incantation and wand work.

“As the most ancient charm, a Patronus will act as a protector for its castor, which takes the form of an animal,” Gastrell explained, twirling his long mustache absentmindedly between his thin fingers. “A Patronus may be casted in an incorporeal or corporeal form. The aim of these lessons is to provide the necessary instruction for students to hopefully achieve a Corporeal Patronus.”

Almost like befriending a unicorn, a Patronus was powered by its castor’s sense of unquestionable happiness. In the first few lessons, the sixth-years all managed to emit incorporeal forms. White light illuminated out of their wands like a winding Lumos spell. Remus tried to find happy thoughts, but it was proving difficult. He wasn’t entirely a miserable sod, but the worry eating at him over the complicated werewolf situation bled into his concentration. The failure didn’t sting as much knowing nobody else was having an easier time of it either.

By the end of the week, it was unsurprising when the first of their group to successfully cast a fully-formed Patronus was James. Its antlers, a twisted thorny crown, shimmered. It trotted around in even, polished steps with a head held high. The tall white stag stood in front of them like royalty. James was very smug about it. He paraded around the class like he had become an expert on Patronuses overnight.

It wasn’t long before other students’ Patronuses took shape. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a Ravenclaw prefect, produced a robust lynx. Zachary Abbott, the Hufflepuff quidditch keeper, had a jittery beaver gnaw at his leg. Dearborn’s honey badger pestered Olivia Macmillan’s lizard. Mary tried to help Cattermole with his pitiful casting after showing off her small white mole. Marlene’s bobcat circled around Dorcas’s hissing rattlesnake. Peter laughed when his raccoon rubbed its little hands together as if scheming. 

Lily was teaching James how to perform the highest honor of muggle praise (a high-five) after her Patronus galloped around in the form of a beautiful doe. They both also turned away and pretended not to see when Snape’s Patronus took the shape of a small doe.

The failure began to sting when Remus continued to struggle with the charm. Though, it didn’t feel as bad knowing Sirius was having the same issue. They were both having a hard time, but they were struggling together.

“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way,” James said when they walked over to their last afternoon of Patronus lessons. “Happiness is a feeling that comes and goes. You don’t have to find something that makes you happy now, just something you know made you happy before.”

Remus lifted his wand to speak the incantation and tried to follow James’s advice. It wasn’t about feeling happy in the present moment. It was about knowing happy moments existed. He closed his eyes, and filtered through every moment he could remember.

His parents’ unconditional love. When he received his Hogwarts letter. Being sorted into Gryffindor. Sharing a dorm with James, Sirius, and Peter. His friends loving him anyway, despite discovering what he was. Their support during the full moons. The creation of the map. When Sirius first kissed him at sunrise, just under the Whomping Willow. All memories that couldn’t be anything other than pure happiness.

The white glow of his wand twisted until a shape took form and pulled itself out. A large white wolf sniffed at Remus before running off to circle around Sirius. Sirius laughed in excitement, and from his own glowing wand, a big white dog, reminiscent of Padfoot, ran out to meet Remus’s wolf. They curled into each other’s thick neck fur before separating to play a game of chase. It was an enchanting encounter, and should have been joyful, but Remus’s heart raced. Blood pumped to his face, and his hand was slicked with sweat. The white wolf dispersed just as quickly, and the white dog whined before vanishing.

A wolf. His Patronus was a wolf. Why, why, why? Why couldn’t the bloody werewolf leave him alone for once?

“Remus.” A strong hand squeezed his shoulder. A touch that didn’t hurt. Sirius’s hand trailed down his arm until it grabbed Remus’s own hand. “It’s fine. Nobody knows.”

It couldn’t be true. The other sixth-years were looking at them. Whispering amongst themselves. His Patronus was a wolf. Remus was a wolf. They had to know by now. Except, on second glance, none of the other students were actually looking at Remus. They were looking at Sirius.

“Sirius, that was amazing!” Lily bounded over, stars shining in her eyes.

“Impressed by my excellent charm casting?” Sirius teased, though his eyes remained on Remus.

“Not the spell,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Your Patronus. It’s so rare to see magical creatures.”

Sirius looked away to finally give Lily his proper attention. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Mine?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just a dog.”

Lily shook her head. Exasperated by Sirius’s dismissal. “It’s a Grim, Sirius.”

“What’s this about a Grim?” Peter asked. He and James also made their way over. A proud smile on James’s face, no doubt to congratulate them on casting their Patronuses.

“Sirius’s Patronus is a Grim.”

James tilted his head. “It’s just a dog.”

Remus snorted. Leave it to James and Sirius to operate on the same wavelength sometimes.

“No, it’s not,” Lily insisted. “The proportions are different. Its fur constantly flows in odd directions, its ears are too high on its head, and the toes on its paws are longer. Normal dogs aren’t like that.”

They all blinked, glancing at each other before turning to Sirius, who looked equally dumbfounded. Padfoot was the spitting image of his Patronus. If what Lily said was true, then Padfoot wasn’t a large black dog as they all assumed. Padfoot was a Grim.

“What?! ”

Chapter Text

Waking up naked, chained to a tree, somewhere in the Forbidden Forest wasn’t how Regulus would have wanted to spend his Saturday morning. 

It had been a new level of humiliation. Evan and Barty unchained him from the ancient tree and wrapped him in blankets since he’d shredded through his clothes during the transformation. Regulus had been pretty out of it when they snuck back into the dorms with invisibility charms. When Pandora examined his condition, they were alarmed to see the bite mark on his hand, still crusted with blood.

Hairy Snout, Human Heart explained the accelerated healing abilities werewolves possessed as long as they weren’t from magical causes. Since Regulus’s wound hadn’t healed a bit, he must have bitten himself (though the bite smelled of foreign musk and familiar mint).

Barty volunteered to get injured for the sake of stealing dittany salves and blood-replenishing potions from the hospital wing. Dorcas was rather delighted to push Barty down the stairs. Multiple times. Until he was sufficiently injured.

Recovering the first time was easier. Regulus was passed out for most of it. The injuries were sensitive but healed down to ugly scars. All other symptoms gradually increased until he became used to the intense smells and sounds and the disgusting appetite for raw meat.

Recovering after his first transformation was an entirely different experience. Bones ached, and joints creaked. The lingering hunger demanded constant food. His senses continued to overwhelm him until his head pounded with prevalent headaches. Regulus drowned in sleep potions to remain unconscious through the worst of it. He missed out on the entire weekend and remained quite grouchy by Monday.

His only relief was when the new moon appeared. The intense sensations dulled enough that Regulus could pretend he was still an ordinary wizard. Living an ordinary life. If only that had remained true. But once the moon filled with white light, Regulus knew he'd never be an ordinary wizard again.

***

It was a wash day for Dorcas; lavender shampoo, citrus orange, and morning dew strongly fogged the air after her shower. 

She sat on Barty’s bed with a towel wrapped around her head and hair potions scattered about. Pandora sat behind Dorcas, holding an enchanted comb; tree moss, fruit tarts, and dried rose petals. Evan sat on her left; firewood, dark coffee, and autumn leaves. Regulus sat on her right.

Barty was banned from touching Dorcas’s hair after the incident with the sticking charm back in third year. After Dorcas removed the towel, Pandora sectioned the hair, and each of them proceeded to do the work of braiding it.

Barty sat on Evan’s bed, sending the smell of dry ink, apple cider, and cinnamon powder across the room whenever he tossed Peach Rings into Dorcas’s open mouth. Whichever sweet jellies she missed catching, she’d feed to Evan and Pandora. Regulus passed up on the offer since he didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. 

He felt at ease being in their presence. Letting all of their familiar scents comfort him. Regulus was content to drift away, mindlessly weaving Dorcas’s hair between his fingers.

“You promised you’d teach us,” Pandora was saying, “why wait until sixth year for a Patronus when we have a great sixth-year witch to show us.”

“Is that so?” Dorcas laughed. “Tell me how else I’m so great.”

“You’re the best duelist I know. Evan should be glad you didn’t join the Dueling Club.”

“I’ll beat her one day,” Evan commented, concentrating entirely on Dorcas’s hair. Diligent hands were already on his third braid.

“And you’ve done amazing work practicing your hexes. Though Evan does have you beat there.”

“Honor restored.” Evan tilted his head down to accept the peach ring Dorcas held up for him. Chewing on his victory treat.

“Oi! Reg, you still haven’t told us how that chat with your brother went,” Barty interrupted, pelting Regulus with peach rings.

Eyes landed on him. He hadn’t told them about it yet. Regulus knew he couldn’t keep avoiding his brother. Something had to snap. Someone had to give in. So he sought out the Gryffindor common room and decided to explain things. All lies, of course. 

The Black life made good liars out of them. Sirius, as always, had been the exception. It was easy to lie to Sirius. He’d done it many times before. It kept a cool head on the older boy’s shoulders, or else he’d go exploding on anyone who’d ever wronged Regulus.

“I told him my cover story,” Regulus said. “He was surprisingly mellow over the details, but at least his curiosity and concern are appeased.”

“That’s it?” Barty booed. “All that worrying and sneaking around was for nothing?”

They didn’t know about the other issue with Lupin. “Maybe I didn’t want to be around Sirius when his friends are all attached to him. It’s none of their business.”

“Thought you could avoid Potter?” Dorcas asked.

Regulus frowned. He didn’t like the teasing tone of her question. “Pardon? What’s Potter to do with it?”

“Come on, Regulus. We all know you fancy Quidditch blokes.”

Warmth rushed to his face, and Regulus knew a splash of color painted his cheeks. “I do not have a—why would you think—?”

“Edgar Bones, Hufflepuff’s captain,” Barty said, lifting up a finger for each name he listed. “Caradoc Dearborn, our keeper. Dirk Cresswell, Ravenclaw’s seeker. James Potter, Gryffindor chaser.”

Regulus faltered. Edgar Bones had appeared dashing and strong swinging the beater bat when Rory pointed out his older brother during a match they watched in their second year. Caradoc Dearborn was witty and wild during the weeks they spent practicing to tryout for the team in their third year. Dirk Cresswell was strategic and fun in their rivalry to catch the snitch. All fleeting crushes. Safely admiring from a distance.

James Potter, on the other hand, was constant sunshine. Dashing, wild, and fun. A bright light of gold. An intense shape of heat and fire that, even from miles and miles away, Regulus burned. A crush that refused to remain in the ashes. He tried quelling the flames before, but each time he caught a glimpse of his brother’s best friend, a newfound spark re-emerged and would not die.

“I do not fancy Potter,” Regulus spat, letting his tongue click on the name with enough disgust to mask how far from the truth his statement felt.

“Still drooling over Cresswell, then?” Barty said it through the peach ring held between his teeth.

“I don’t drool.”

“With the amount of staring you do,” Dorcas teased, “it’s practically the same thing.”

“Bugger off, Meadowes. I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“What do you mean by that, Black?”

“Your crush on McKinnon isn’t as subtle as you think it is.”

Dorcas’s shoulders tensed. Regulus couldn’t see her face, but he was sure her lips were pressed together in a pout.

“I fancy Evan,” Barty spoke up. Hand raised in the air as if volunteering to go next.

Pandora gave him an indulgent smile. “We know, Barty.”

“Evan fancies me.”

“We know, Barty.”

“Don’t speak for me,” Evan said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Barty, who enthusiastically winked at him.

“This isn’t about Potter,” Regulus cut in, trying to steer the conversation back in the right direction. “Sirius believed the wampus cat story. He won’t be a concern anymore.”

“Are you sure?” Pandora asked. Eyes gentle and expectant. Aimed to quietly urge Regulus to say more. Be honest. Be open. All things that would get him in trouble at Grimmauld.

Regulus didn’t know how to be honest. How to be open. That was all Sirius, who wore vulnerability like armor. He was a bad liar because he was never anything but honest with himself. Regulus was still learning. Still trying. Still growing into himself.

“Sirius wants to ‘spend more time’ with me,” Regulus admitted. On any other occasion, he would have found joy in Sirius’s sudden desire to hang out with him. A childish wish to be his brother’s best friend again. It was at odds now with everything that had changed. They were older. Different people living different lives. 

“Is that what you want?” Pandora continued to stare. Always searching for the things Regulus refused to say.

Regulus sighed. “He picked a difficult time to brotherly bond.”

A soft object struck his arm. The empty box of Peach Rings bounced to the floor. Barty’s hand extended toward him with a pointed finger. “Of course he did, the meddling wanker. You better not be hanging out with him. We have to focus on the upcoming Quidditch game. No distractions.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything.” Regulus handed the empty box to Dorcas, who threw it straight at Barty’s nose in retaliation. “But no worries, the Quidditch match is my main priority at the moment.”

“I’d thought things went sour between you with how long it took Sirius to cast his Patronus,” Dorcas said, ignoring Barty’s complaints about nose injuries. “Guess he was only being dramatic over your lack of an answer.”

“Standard Black behavior,” Evan mumbled. The others burst into a chorus of laughter. Regulus was tempted to throw Pandora’s enchanted comb at them if his hands hadn’t been occupied with Dorcas’s hair.

Though Regulus wouldn’t admit that being here in the dorms, listening to his friends laugh, wasn’t such a bad place to find himself in. Despite the tragedy his life had turned out, he was surrounded by all the people he loved. Maybe things can get better after all.

***

Regulus retracted his earlier thoughts when he stood on the Quidditch pitch with the Slytherin team. The last remaining clumps of snow were slowly melting in the warmer weather, but the cold air persisted. He leaned on his broom to support his weight. He’d left his cane with Pandora, who sat in the stands. 

She warned him before he left to watch the skies for signs of danger. Oddly-shaped clouds. Ominous-looking birds soaring by. Eerie gusts of wind. Pre-game superstitions.

Dorcas elbowed him again. He was close to baring his teeth in uncontained anger. The moon was filled halfway, and the deeply buried emotions Regulus had learned to keep inside himself were clawing their way out. He had to work twice as much to maintain his carefully constructed apathy.

Their captain, Lucinda Talkalot, who took over the captaincy after Emma Vanity retired from the team to focus on her N.E.W.T.s, was staring down at the two boys in front of her who didn’t stop complaining. Mulciber and Avery had been rather loud about their opinions over Regulus’s current position.

“He’s crippled,” Duncan Avery kept saying, “he is no use on the team anymore.”

“Quidditch is a physical sport,” Matthew Mulciber added. “He’s lacking in physical ability.”

“Right,” Regulus spoke up, sarcasm rolling off his tongue, “because you catch a snitch with your feet.” He kept himself civil and calm. Although what he really wanted to do was snap the older boy’s neck between his teeth. Dangerous thoughts. Dangerous desires.

Avery rounded over to Regulus until Dorcas shouldered past to stand in front of him. A chilling smile aimed at the now wary sixth-year. “Careful, Avery, we wouldn’t want any accidents so close to our match, now would we?”

“Fuck off, Meadowes,” Mulciber said behind Avery, a deep frown overshadowing his eyes. “Black can’t play with a lame leg. We need a new seeker or we’ll lose the Quidditch Cup.”

“You’re talking mince. Regulus’s our best player,” Caradoc snapped. Broom held like one would a menacing spear. His Scottish accent grew thicker with his increasing annoyance. “Boggin eejit!”

“What did you call me?” Mulciber took a heavy step forward, glaring at Caradoc.

“An idiot,” Regulus answered. With the amount of time they’d spent together training, he’d become better at understanding the dialect. He appreciated Caradoc’s support, but he couldn’t let their keeper fight his battles.

Both Avery and Mulciber faced Regulus with scorn. But didn’t approach any closer with Dorcas nearby.

Rory Bones snorted. “Finally, someone says something that makes sense.” He stood tall with his arms crossed. Relaxed and unbothered. Every bit of righteous confidence that Regulus admired in Edgar, and all the cunning sass that made him more of a Slytherin than a Hufflepuff.

Jeanne Flint, a third-year, tied her long hair into a bun. During Quidditch training, the reserve players were used to split the group into two teams in a practice match. She was Avery’s substitute chaser. “I agree with Duncan. Black could hurt himself in his delicate condition. Quidditch is competitive. Nobody will be holding back.”

“I think,” Anita Greengrass, their newest addition, chimed in, hiding behind Rory. “We should let Regulus try.”

The team began to yell and throw insults at each other the way only teenagers could. Lethal and juvenile. Talkalot blew on her whistle, a sharp sound that halted everyone in the middle of their argument. It stung Regulus’s ears most of all.

“Everyone shut up,” Talkalot didn’t shout. Her authority and fierce glare ensured the team kept quiet. “We will continue with our normal practice. Depending on Regulus’s performance, we’ll vote on whether he stays or goes. Am I understood?” The group gave small mumbles of agreement before Talkalot instructed them to get in position.

They all mounted their brooms and took to the sky. The pressure on his injured ankle ceased. The pressure in his chest deflated. There were many cages where Regulus learned to exist. At Grimmauld. In the Noble House of Black. In the Slytherin dorms. Under the hands of his parents.

Quidditch was the only time he felt truly free. He spent many hours on a broom during the year Sirius was gone. It kept him out of the house. Out of his parents’ reach. It safely kept everything that made Regulus alive. It still did.

Regulus was an excellent seeker. The Slytherin team didn’t have a reserve player for his position. Their practice matches relied on accumulating regular points, thus allowing the chasers, beaters, and keeper to work on their plays and strategies.

Regulus’s training consisted of navigating through the chaos of a busy pitch and tracking how often he could find and catch the snitch in a single match. It meant dodging bludgers. Avoiding colliding with other flying brooms. Coming up with plays on the spot. Being a seeker meant being flexible and spontaneous.

The team was split into two groups. Rory immediately caught the quaffle and went straight for the other group’s rings. No doubt trying to one-up Anita. Samuel Parkinson nearly crashed into the ring trying to catch the quaffle that Flint threw at him. Avery bumped into Talkalot when Dorcas sent a bludger in his direction.

Regulus swooped around his teammates. Sometimes he felt spirited soaring through the sky, and he was compelled to play as a challenge. He made Flint miss catching the quaffle. He distracted Caradoc so Anita could score. 

When he was about to make Mulciber send the bludger in the wrong direction, a tiny golden blur zoomed some distance away. Regulus grabbed hold of his broom and swirled around in pursuit. Mulciber swung his bat.

The bludger collided with the snitch, throwing it off course and toward the stands. Regulus’s eyes scanned through the few heads that sat there, but he leaned into his broom to fall faster when he found Pandora among the group of spectators. 

Gaining speed, he stretched out his hand, which hovered just behind the wings of the snitch. The angle of their trajectory skipped Pandora, so when his fingers wrapped around the golden sphere and the broom halted in the air, he wasn’t staring at the face of his best friend.

Wide, mystified brown eyes shielded by round glasses on a good-looking face blinked up at him. Regulus breathed raggedly, small white puffs of air escaping his mouth. Inhaling the scent of polished wood and pine. The moment froze, suspended in time, as Regulus stared down at James Potter.

The reluctant recollection of last year evaded his thoughts. Fourth-year Regulus had caught the snitch, but it hadn’t been enough. The Gryffindor team had won. James racked up points and made poor Caradoc look like a fool that, even with the snitch in his hold, Slytherin lost. 

Regulus kept clutching the snitch in his hand out of humiliation and anger. He’d forgotten to return it to Madam Hooch. Out of fear of getting into trouble with the flying instructor, Regulus caught James outside of the locker rooms.

“Did you come to congratulate me, Baby Black?” James asked with a grin so wide that Regulus hated how much it added to his boyish charm.

“In your dreams, Potter,” Regulus replied, making sure to add enough annoyance to his words.

For some reason, it made James laugh, running a hand through his still-wet hair, smoothing it back, and exposing more of his handsome face. “Your feint was amazing, by the way. Marlene’s been complaining about it in the locker room. I almost thought you couldn’t pull it off, but why wouldn’t you? You’re a great flier.”

Regulus rolled his eyes to avoid appreciating James’s freshly showered locks. “I don’t need false compliments from the likes of you.” 

He snatched James’s wrist, curling the other’s fingers around the stolen snitch, and Regulus turned his head to the side, pretending to look around the corridor. Ignoring the pleasant tingles that crawled along his skin at the touch of James’s hand. “You may have won the match, Potter, but I promise you, I will always catch the snitch.”

After ensuring the snitch was safely deposited in James’s hand, Regulus turned on his heel and walked away. Face warm, and a blush spreading across his cheeks. He wasn’t usually that bold, and blamed it on the years he spent copying Sirius in childhood. A moment of weakness.

“That was amazing!” Pandora’s voice brought Regulus back to the present. The slight breeze drifted by her soothing scent of tarts and rose petals.

He and James continued to keep eye contact, and to save face for zoning out like that, he gave a quick nod of his head in an act of acknowledgment. James didn’t take note of his dismissal. Nor did he stop staring. With an unfamiliar expression aimed straight at Regulus. It softened the other boy’s face, but his eyes sparkled with stars. Like he’d been enchanted by a breathtaking sight.

Regulus decided to ignore James’s sudden odd behavior and shifted his broom to reach Pandora instead. She waved his cane around like a victory flag and was close to whacking the redhead standing next to her with it. 

Lily Evans clapped in support. Regulus’s old envy of the Gryffindor girl wasn’t present anymore. James made it no secret how much he fancied her, and Regulus had learned to accept it as another inevitability. James and Lily were the most anticipated couple. A romance years in the making. They will marry after Hogwarts and probably have a son. A beautiful little boy with James’s face and Lily’s green eyes. That was how happy endings went.

“The Slytherin team can’t kick you out with skills like those,” Lily said. A spark of righteous justice ignited in her flaming hair. The smell of green tea and sweet lilies surrounded her.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. Keeping his surprise to a minimum. “How long have you been watching our practice match?”

“James and I finished studying in the library. We saw your team on the pitch on our walk back to the common room, and James dragged me all the way here.”

Regulus glanced at Pandora, who smiled with self-satisfaction. Meaning Pandora had uncovered something here. Something Regulus didn’t even know needed to be uncovered among these Gryffindors. “Did Potter come to spy on us?”

“Spying isn’t the word I would use,” Pandora replied with an all-knowing glint in her eye. “Nor would I say he was focused on the entire team.”

James was a chaser. It made sense for him to pay more attention to their keeper. To come up with a strategy to score more points.

Lily laughed. Finding some amusement in Pandora’s words. James seemed to finally shake himself out of whatever mysterious trance he’d been stuck in and leaned over as if to get closer to Regulus’s hovering broom.

“Your captain is mad if she agrees to kick you off the team,” James exclaimed, his voice intentionally high. Making sure his statement reached the rest of the players on the pitch.

“Piss off, Potter!” Talkalot swooped down, and the rest of the team landed back on the grassy field.

Regulus arched an eyebrow at James, who merely grinned. A confident, almost smug stretch of his lips. Regulus’s chest felt full. A content rumble pinged in the back of his mind, and he was annoyed about being so pleased to have such a smile aimed at him.

The scent of caramel and sweat was the only warning Regulus received when an arm wrapped around his shoulders. James’s smile dropped, and eyed the arm with a hard stare.

“Pure dead brilliant, mate,” Caradoc said, and Regulus allowed himself to relax in the other’s camaraderie. Even though his muscles began to ache. Even though there was a slight annoyance at being grabbed unexpectedly. “Wasn’t a wee bit scunnered.”

“Dearborn! Black!” Talkalot yelled. “Get your arse down here.”

Caradoc let go and gave him a playful nudge before descending toward the team. Pandora handed his cane over. He held her fingers and kissed the back of her hand in gratitude. It let him breathe in her soothing scent. And with one last polite nod at Lily and James, Regulus followed after Caradoc.

Dorcas grabbed his broom and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly once he held his balance on his cane. Talkalot held up her hand, and Regulus took that as his cue. He tossed the snitch, and she clutched it in a fist, keeping her hand in the air.

“We will take a vote now,” she said. “All those in favor of keeping Regulus as a seeker, raise your hand.” Everyone aside from Avery, Mulciber, and Flint raised their hand. And if Regulus turned his head toward the stands, he’d see Pandora, Lily, and James raising their hands as well.

His captain lowered her arm and gave Regulus a meaningful nod. “Regulus stays.” She sent a warning glance at those who opposed. “The decision is final. I don’t want to hear these complaints anymore. Am I clear?”

Flint nodded, keeping her head down and her shoulders slumped like a scolded child. Avery and Mulciber frowned but remained quiet. The rest of the players packed up the quidditch equipment when Edgar Bones and the Hufflepuff team arrived for their allotted practice time.

Although Regulus no longer fancied Edgar, the need to appear mature in front of the older boy still persisted in their present interactions. Edgar traded a few words with Talkalot before greeting his brother. Rory ignored him with a huff. Probably still sore about being a reserve player. It was guiltily comforting to know that no matter what household you lived in, siblings would always be complicated.

They all shuffled out of the pitch and headed toward the locker rooms. Anita and Rory said their congratulations as they passed. Caradoc gave him a thumbs up. Dorcas stayed behind to walk at Regulus’s slower pace.

After everyone else changed and left the locker room, Regulus destroyed two of its benches to ease his frustration. Dorcas used a repairing spell to fix what he had ruined. He sat on such a bench, holding the back of Dorcas’s hand to his forehead. 

Pandora’s earlier scent wore off, so he breathed in the smell of citrus and lavender. The scents of his friends calmed him. Sirius’s did too. When the smell of spearmint and leather lingered after his visit to the Gryffindor common room.

Another note from Hairy Snout, Human Heart, described the aftereffects of a first transformation. While Regulus dealt with enhanced senses and changes in appetite, the book warned that after a newly bitten werewolf experienced their first full moon, the wolf’s feral instincts and nature would intensely bleed into their human consciousness. 

That included the wolf’s need to bond with and belong to a pack. He supposed his friends were the closest thing to a pack the wolf was ever going to get. He hoped it would suffice. He worried it wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry I can’t do anything more,” Dorcas said, rubbing circles on his back with the hand not currently in Regulus’s grasp. He hated making someone so confident and fierce sound so defeated. It didn’t suit her at all.

Regulus dropped her hand as if she could feel everything that made him not good enough. “Don’t be,” he said, refusing Dorcas’s arm when he pushed himself up to stand. “It’s a problem of my own. Neither of us can fix this.”

Even when Dorcas disagreed, he knew it was true. He couldn’t have that kind of support. Perhaps Regulus wasn’t meant to have a pack. Not like Lupin. Never like Lupin.

***

It was a Thursday. Regulus and Barty sat with Pandora at the Ravenclaw table for lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, the fifth-year Slytherin and Ravenclaw students had Divination together.

Pandora was whimsical. She liked things that weren’t entirely concrete. Things that relied more on belief than pure logic. Things that needed to be explored and discovered. Hidden truths and hidden meanings. Divination was all about believing in a future that hasn’t happened yet.

Barty was competitive. He wanted a challenge. Chose to take all the elective classes in third year. Evan had to convince him to drop Arithmancy and Ancient Runes after burning himself out last year, even with a time-turner. He still insisted on taking the O.W.L.s for those classes. Declared he’d get all O’s and had something to prove. That he was smarter than everyone else.

Regulus was curious. He craved knowledge. The desire to understand. Even when magic ran through their veins, it remained a mystery. Perhaps some things just can’t be explained. And he had to learn to accept that. 

“Can you read mine next?” Quirinus Quirrell, a very gullible third-year, asked as he passed his goblet toward Sybill Trelawney, an overly theatrical seventh-year. She’d been going around reading tea leaves for the younger students.

Trelawney claimed she had the prophetic powers of her ancestor. A true Seer. A strong Inner-Eye. Pandora told him she believed it was true but thought Trelawney didn’t know how to use them correctly.

Trelawney gazed into Quirrell’s goblet. They had all been drinking tea that day at her insistence. “I see a man with a headscarf.”

Quirrell hunched over himself. “Is that — what does it mean?” He stuttered.

“You will go bald.” It was too general an answer to be significant in any way, but Quirrell clutched his head with wide eyes. Laughter sounded around the table. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Oi! Trelawney,” Barty called, lifting Regulus’s goblet, “read his tea leaves.”

Trelawney’s thick glasses made her eyes appear larger, overtaking the majority of her face. Regulus shot a glare at Barty, who simply handed the goblet over. Pandora patted Regulus’s hand to silently advise him to let it be.

The older, bug-eyed witch squinted at his goblet. The cup dropped with a sudden clang that echoed, startling the younger Ravenclaws. “A Grim! What ill omen — there’s a Grim in your tea!”

A sudden hush followed after Trelawney’s outburst. Eyes stared at Regulus. No doubt, considering his scars and mangled leg. Foolish little boy, he could almost hear them, there’s no escaping misery.

“Your life is in grave danger,” Trelawney continued in a mystifying tone of voice. Adding the right amount of warning and horror to make the crowd gasp. 

Regulus felt cornered. He dug his fingers into his thighs under the table. There was that urge again. To sink his teeth into the flesh of a soft neck and snap it in half. Eliminate the threat. 

Barty’s hand caught his left wrist. His thumb lightly rubbed at the back of Regulus’s hand, where the slight bumps of a bite mark had scarred over. The growing animosity that began to fill up his thoughts eased. He breathed in the scent of dry ink and apple cider and allowed it to lull him back to his normal temper.

Benjy Fenwick, the fourth-year Ravenclaw beater, took a bite of his apple. The crunch of it echoed loudly in the moment of silence. “Didn’t Shacklebolt say Sirius Black’s Patronus was a Grim?” He took another loud bite. Speaking with a mouthful of apple chunks. “Maybe Black’s Patronus is also a Grim.”

Pandora clapped, gaining the attention of the table. “That’s a fascinating theory, Fenwick. Can Patronuses be inherited?”

Pandora’s question sparked a new discussion among the students. It diverted their minds away from Regulus’s tea reading. It gave him plenty of time to recompose himself. The conversation turned uninteresting when Gilderoy Lockhart, an annoying fifth-year, bragged about being able to cast a Patronus.

Dorcas had mentioned the same thing when she returned from her last Patronus lesson. A Grim from Grimmauld. The Brothers Grimm. Regulus could appreciate Evan’s earlier joke now.

Later, up in their Divination classroom, Professor Mystique passed around decks of playing cards. She had a fondness for the number three. Believed that all things grouped in thirds were harmonious. Thus, Pandora, Barty, and Regulus were divination partners.

“We spent last week learning about the basics of cartomancy,” Mystique said. “This week we’ll put your knowledge to the test by having you all take turns reading each other’s fortunes.”

The bell attached to the tip of her pointed hat gave a small jingle when she spun around to write instructions on the chalkboard. “Each student in the group will pick a role. One will have their cards read, the other will read the cards, and the last will interpret them.” The Professor tapped at the board, where the outline of a card spread was laid out for them. “Please use chapter seven of The Art of Card Reading to interpret the meanings of each card.”

Barty had already been skimming through their textbook. “I’ll interpret the cards.” He pushed the deck toward Pandora. “Dora’s delicate touch is better at shuffling cards.”

Of course, that left Regulus as the reading’s main subject. Prompting the truth out of Regulus was like pulling teeth. Barty was good at pulling teeth. “Uh, fine.” He let Barty have his way this time. He wouldn’t stop otherwise.

Pandora shuffled the cards and laid them out in front of Regulus. Following the spread on the board, he pulled out five cards. Pandora flipped the first card, revealing a red-hearted letter K on its corner.

“The King of Hearts,” Pandora announced happily. The relief of having drawn a positive card was plain on her face. She worried about him too much. The curling guilt in the pit of his stomach stirred. An almost pitiful whine crawled up his throat, but Regulus gulped it back down. He was undeserving of her sympathy.

Barty read out its description: “A helpful man will offer good advice.” He shot Regulus a smug smile. “You should listen to me more.”

Pandora flipped the next card. “The Knave of Clubs.”

“You have caught the attention of a playful youth. An admirer.” Barty winked at Regulus, and Pandora giggled. Regulus refused to feel flushed over the (false) implication. He couldn’t imagine anyone possibly finding anything admirable about him. Less so now that he was a scarred, crippled beast.

The next card was flipped. “Four of Clubs.”

Barty’s eyes scanned the page before his lips curled down. “Beware of deceit or betrayal from someone you trust.” They all traded worried glances. Regulus wished he was surprised. He wasn’t. It was almost expected at this point for something new in his life to go wrong.

With Pandora’s good mood dampened, she flipped the next card with less enthusiasm. “The King of Diamonds.”

“An older man with authority and influence will cross your path.” Barty blinked and recovered his earlier teasing smile. “That doesn’t sound so bad. Maybe it’s about Slughorn and his parties. I’m glad I refused to join his club. Good luck with that, Reg.”

Pandora’s hand hovered over the final card. Hesitant to flip it. Regulus knew drawing it out wouldn’t change the card’s outcome. He reached over and flipped it for her. They all stared at the bold, black A.

“Ace of Spades,” Pandora whispered. The words slipped out like they held a bad taste in her mouth. If she spoke any louder, then the ill omen would come true.

“Misfortune,” Barty read, his tone almost regretful. “The promise of an end.” The textbook slammed shut, and the sudden flap of air scattered the cards. Erasing all evidence of Regulus’s dark future. “Bullshit!”

“Mr. Crouch! Mind your language!”

Regulus needed to be alone after that. He skipped dinner and ambled by the corridors in the late evening. He shouldn’t be walking this far into the almost-full moon. Muscles ached and joints creaked, telling signs that the next transformation was nearing. His noble upbringing was suffering under the wild demands of the beast.

His temper grew shorter, and his bloodlust poisoned the foundations of his etiquette. He was losing himself. He’d barely managed his first moon, and he was nearly at his limit. He told Pandora. Knew deep down. Regulus couldn’t live like this.

The steady thump of his cane led him to the Black Lake. It was a cloudy night. The stars were gone, but at least so was the moon. The murky waters lapped at the sand. A black-feathered crow cawed at his approach and flew away past the open lake. The last of the winter chill blew by, ruffling his hair in the wind.

He didn’t pay any attention to the water submerging his shoes or his pants sinking into the wetness of the beach. The cane dropped onto the sandy rocks. It wasn't needed where he was going.

He stumbled with the waves. Letting the current pull him deeper into the lake. Cold water crashed into his chest. Pain shot up his ruined leg, and he lost his balance. Regulus plunged underneath the lake.

The waves pushed and pulled at his body. Sinking down. His arms flapped against the current in his mind’s panic, because his legs didn’t have the capacity to push him to the surface. His breath escaped him in a rush of bubbles popping through the water. Inhaled it into his nose, letting it burn through his brain.

A sudden pull of his sleeve lifted him up. Wet hair stuck to his face when he broke through the surface. He coughed out water as his lungs breathed in the fresh air in relief. He was dragged toward the beach, where he flopped onto his back, letting the sand cling to his wet clothes.

Regulus gazed up at the sky. Oddly-shaped clouds. Ominous-looking birds soaring by. Eerie gusts of wind. The chill finally burrowed into his bones. He shivered.

The depth of his actions caught up with him. He wanted an out. A quick escape. It was desperate and stupid, but so easy. Hauntingly simple. To steal a life.

The smell of wet-dog blew with the breeze. He followed the path of the sky down to the horizon and toward the sand pressed against his back. By the dark rocks of the beach stood a large, black canine. 

Its wet fur moved in odd directions, sometimes gliding against the wind. Its ears were held high on its head, and its paws were massive. Its gray eyes didn’t look feral or dangerous. They looked almost human.

How ironic. To be saved from sudden death by a Grim. If the creature wasn’t as black as ink, Regulus would have thought Sirius had sent his Patronus. Perhaps its presence was a warning. Misfortune will come for him. Not now. Not today. But it will come.

“You’re supposed to let me die,” Regulus said. A whispered thing drifting in the quiet of the night. A secret confessed to a magic unknown. The Grim’s ears turned in his direction, and it craned its head to the side and whined. As close to sadness as an animal could sound. The creature was pitying him.

Its large eyes reflected a boy. The boy was small, wet, and wasting away. He wished things could be different. Wished he was different. Oh, but he was. For all the wrong reasons.

The Grim shook off the water from its fur before picking up his discarded cane in its sharp teeth. Regulus nearly growled at the sight, sinking his fingers into the hard, wet sand and breathing cold lake air. Not werewolf teeth. They could never be as sharp as werewolf teeth.

It dropped the cane next to Regulus’s exhausted body. Strangely, he didn’t feel threatened by it. He didn’t have the urge to sink his teeth into its flesh. Maybe these creatures recognized each other. Maybe the Grim knew what lived inside him.

The Grim lay down against Regulus’s side. Its big head rested on his chest, its ear pressed against his rapidly beating heart. Adrenaline still coursed through his skin from the near-drowning. It was reckless of him to let the wild animal so close, but Regulus had been past the point of self-preservation. How very un-Slytherin of him.

He dug his hands into its drying fur. Stroking it. He didn’t know when, how, or why, but the creature’s presence was comforting. He faced death in the hopes that he’d stop whatever misery he kept dragging with him. Death dragged him back regardless. Perhaps some things just can’t be explained.

***

He woke up the next day in his bed. In the Slytherin dorms. Wet clothes gone, and fresh pajamas in their place. Had it all been a dream?

“No, it wasn’t a dream.” Evan sat up from Barty’s bed. The lump of bedsheets that was Barty had an arm slung over Evan’s waist.

Regulus rubbed at his temples. The full moon was tomorrow, and the headaches were just starting to penetrate his brain. “What happened?”

“Your brother dragged you down to the dungeons. Passed you off to me.” Evan removed Barty’s arm and slipped out of bed. “Said he found you sleeping on the beach. Tide must have gotten you. You were all wet.”

Regulus allowed that to sink in. Sirius found him. Had he been looking for him? Evan didn’t mention a Grim. It must have disappeared by the time his brother arrived.

The scent of wet sand and lake water clung to his skin. He felt the need to shake the unpleasant smell off. The need to shake out the unpleasant night and the reckless thing he had nearly done. He never thought he’d be grateful to an ill omen. The Grim saved his life. Or at least, what was left of it.

“I’m going to shower,” Regulus said, slipping out of bed and limping slowly to the bathroom. He looked back to make sure Evan could see his exasperation. “Please don’t be snogging each other by the time I come out. It’s too early for my tolerance to put up with the two of you.”

Evan stared passively. “You can’t hold me accountable for Barty’s actions. I’m a victim.”

“You’re a willing participant.”

“He’s very persuasive.”

By the time he came out of the bathroom, he was fresh and clean and feeling a little more like himself. Cursed and feral, but himself. Barty and Evan were also snogging. The insensitive prats. Regulus took his cane and walked out of the dorm. Promised to meet Pandora at the entrance of the Great Hall.

There were still fifteen minutes left until breakfast, so he strolled into the library for some light research. He didn’t know how extensively the Grim was studied. Considering how often encountering one led to your death. But Regulus survived it; that had to mean something.

Reading might calm him down. His skin itched, and his teeth ached. The wolf’s nature was stronger than ever. Rage burned in his veins. Hunger prowled in his stomach. Pandora promised to get him more raw meat. The poor hippogriffs were being cheated out of their meal.

He reached for Most Macabre Monstrosities, but when he gripped its spine, another hand took hold. The scent of rich chocolate, cotton sweaters, and a wild moon-drunk madness invaded his every sense. The back of his neck tingled, and goosebumps pricked up his arms. When his eyes tracked the other thicker hand up a long arm and toward a tall, red-tied figure, he gulped down the lump of unease.

Remus Lupin stared down at him. Eyes unblinking, a trick of the morning light making his brown eyes appear golden. Or maybe they were golden. Alarm bells went off in his head. A part of him wanted to run away. A part of him wanted to stand his ground.

Regulus pulled at the book, but Lupin’s grip held firm. A growl emitted from Lupin’s lips. A warning. Regulus bristled. He was here first. He grabbed the book first. Lupin had no right to demand it. He pulled again. Baring his teeth. Not backing out. Not giving in.

Lupin took a step forward. The taller, imposing boy made Regulus falter. He took a step back. Gripped his cane until his knuckles turned white. Lupin kept approaching, back straight, eyes narrowed, and lips curled into a snarl. Regulus kept putting distance between them. Moving backwards. Refusing to leave the other out of his sight. Shoulders tensing in preparation for an attack.

His back hit a wall. Into the hidden corner of the bookshelf. The book held between them fell with a loud thud, forgotten amidst their bigger struggle. Safety. Territory. Dominance.

The other werewolf pressed its chest against his. Keeping him trapped between it and the wall. Both their hearts beating rapidly. He held still. A reluctant whine escaping him. The smell of a stronger, older wolf flooded his nose. The same scents he’d found spread all over the castle. Regulus was the odd one out. He was the one intruding.

Lupin’s head bent down until his face reached Regulus’s shoulder. Another growl vibrated sharply in his ear. Demanding respect. Demanding authority. The other wolf will not stand to be challenged in its own home.

He hunched over himself. This was not a battle he could win. So he did the only thing to offer peace: Regulus bared his throat. A low whimper slipping from his lips. Leaving himself at the mercy of the other wolf.

Lupin angled his face into the crook of his neck. He inhaled, taking in Regulus’s scent. The wolf opened his mouth and—

“Remus! What are you doing?”

Regulus blinked. The sounds and smells of the library returned to him. Lupin stiffened, closed his mouth, and leaned away. Golden eyes dulled back to soft brown. A little dazed. As if he just woke up from a nap. They stared at each other. Eyes widened in surprise. Quickly pulling apart.

Sharp pine and warm spices wafted through Regulus’s nose, drowning out Lupin’s stronger, wilder scent. James stared at them in confused shock. Eyebrows high and mouth hanging open, he pressed his lips together in a thin line. Eyes narrowed with suspicion at Lupin, and the other wolf took another step away from Regulus.

“What—” James began to say, but Regulus shoved past him. The instinctual need to survive. To protect himself. To evade danger. It compelled him to flee. He rushed out of the library. Running as much as he could with his cane.

The restless energy returned to him. Alarm bells didn’t stop ringing. He was still in danger. The one thing he’d been avoiding. The one thing he didn’t want to happen. Regulus wasn’t ready to confront it.

Remus Lupin knew what Regulus had become. It wouldn’t be long until Sirius did too.

Chapter Text

Remus was stunned. He didn’t know what had gotten over him. The wolf howled deep in his mind. Its echo called for the other werewolf to come back.

After finding out that Sirius’s animagus form was possibly a Grim, he kept coming to the library to find more information on the spectral dog. He sniffed the scent of the other werewolf, but he became used to finding traces of it in the library. A place the other student also frequented. Moony hadn’t been pleased by it. The wolf left too many feelings of possessiveness within him.

They were ugly and irrational feelings. Remus had no right to claim an entire castle. Had no right to deny its sanctuary to another suffering werewolf. Moony didn’t care. Their scent had mingled through Hogwarts for years now. It was home. A part of it belonged to the wolf.

When he had wandered through the shelves, looking for the right books, the scent of fresh peppermint, black tea, and cool spring showers strongly perfumed the air. Along with a thick primal rage. Moony sought out the intruder. Padfoot had stopped him last time from putting the other wolf in its place.

Remus didn’t think. Didn’t register the gray eyes, dark curls, or fair skin. The other wolf was grabbing their things. Taking. Stealing. He growled a warning. He needed the other to back down, to respect his territory, and to submit.

The other wolf didn’t fight, but it didn’t stand down. Moony took it as a challenge. He couldn’t let it think it had free reign in his home. He cornered it and prepared himself to force it to submit. Luckily, the other wolf bared its throat. It acknowledged Moony’s authority.

Before Moony could accept the peace offering, Remus blinked back into the present. Wide, bright silver eyes dulled to a sharp gray. The scars that ran down the younger boy’s cheek twitched when he grimaced. Sirius’s little brother stood at his mercy.

James’s scent of pine and wood pierced through the peppermint and rage. It helped push down the wolf’s instincts. Remus realized what he’d been doing and felt shame squirm inside him. It wasn’t until he managed to fully take in the Slytherin tie and smooth black cane that the reality of the situation sank in.

Regulus Black was a werewolf.

“Remus!”

Tearing his gaze away from the spot where Regulus had stood, Remus let his eyes drift back to his best friend. James held a firm frown, though his lip curled on one side of his face to reveal his uncertainty.

“James.”

James sprang into action. Crossing the distance and clutching at Remus’s robes. “What in Merlin’s beard was that?” James’s fingers tightened their grip, and Remus winced at the reproachful tone. “It looked like—you were so close and—Sirius!”

Remus grabbed James’s wrists, halting the other boy’s broken words. “Prongs, I didn’t mean to. The wolf — Moony,” he couldn’t let the words out: found out who the other werewolf is. They formed a lump in his throat. Unwilling to be spoken. Remus promised himself he wouldn’t betray another werewolf’s secret. “His anger got the best of me.”

James relaxed, letting go of Remus’s robes. He leaned back but lowered his voice to a whisper. “Moony, I shouldn’t have to tell you not to pick fights so close to the full moon, but—” he bit his lip, “especially not with Regulus. Sirius isn’t doing too well right now.”

That caught Remus’s attention. He had a restless sleep last night with the pre-transformation pains and noticed how late Sirius returned to their dorm. When he woke up in the morning, he took note of the lump of fur on Sirius’s bed. He should’ve known something was wrong.

They both exited the library (after Remus retrieved the fallen book he’d fought over with Regulus). Students were filing into the Great Hall, and Remus held back the urge to follow the wild scent of peppermint and rain. The wolf wanted to finish what they started. Remus still needed time to process everything that had happened in the past ten minutes.

Making their way back to the Gryffindor tower, neither Remus nor James spoke until they reached their dorm. Peter was sitting on Sirius’s bed, stroking the dark, thick fur of a big black dog. Or Grim, actually.

“Padfoot,” Remus prodded gently, but the spectral dog merely whined and buried his head under the blankets. It reminded Remus of the start of the school year, after Sirius ran away from home. They knew Sirius tended to suffer in silence, because that’s how he’d learned to survive in a hateful house. Being loud about the things he could fight but quiet about the things he couldn’t. This was one of those moments.

“Pads,” James said. No prodding, no urging, no question in his tone. It was just the calling of a name. James understood Sirius better than anyone else. A connection born long before the marauders became the marauders. Before any of them knew what brotherhood meant. If soulmates existed, Remus thought, James and Sirius were it.

“You don’t have to tell us anything.” James took off his shoes to climb onto the bed. “But we’ll be here until you’re ready.” No more. No less. James had said the same thing when they found out about the werewolf at the end of first year but was patient enough to let Remus confess on his own terms. Giving him the space to feel safe and comfortable first.

Remus removed his own shoes to settle on the bed. They all squeezed in together. No longer little first-years who used to all fit on one bed, let alone an entire Grim. His limbs ached and screamed at him, but this was more important. 

They were prepared to wait it out, even if it took all day, for the slim chance that Sirius would feel better. They did the same for Remus on particularly rough moons. For Peter during anxious exam nights. For James on the rare occasions his insecurities rang too loud. 

There was no amount of well wishes or positive affirmations that would make you stop feeling upset. Because what truly mattered in these moments was that they were here. Without needing to do anything. Without needing to say anything. They were here together. No more. No less.

Remus was sure they had missed the entirety of breakfast by the time Padfoot emerged from under the blankets. He transformed back into Sirius, who was wearing a wrinkled, soggy uniform that smelled of sand and murky lake water. His eyes were tear-stained, and his hair was tangled. Sirius was the spitting image of heartbreak.

Remus wanted to hold him, but his hands were all wrong. The shape of sharp claws curved in his fingers. That was not a tender embrace. He could hurt Sirius. Remus forgot, sometimes, that the risk of hurting others would always exist with him.

Sirius scrubbed at his eyes. “It was my turn with the map,” he began, speaking in an unnatural whisper. “I saw Regulus heading to the beach.” His lips trembled a bit, like he was holding back the urge to cry again. “I followed him.”

Remus went still. Moony paced back and forth. Underneath the smell of sand and water was a strong minty scent. Peppermint. Spearmint. The combinations of two distinctive mints mingled delicately, almost naturally, like they were grown in the same soil. 

Peter glanced at Sirius’s bedside vanity and swiped the map. Holding it like it might tell them what happened. What reduced Sirius to this mournful state? James grabbed Sirius’s hand, which Sirius held on to like a lifeline.

“He walked into the lake.” Sirius’s grip on James’s hand tightened. “And he wasn’t coming out. I turned into Padfoot. Fished him out. He thought I was a Grim, and he…”

James’s own hand squeezed Sirius’s. They were both holding on to each other now. Peter kept his eyes glued to the map, like it hurt to look at their distress. 

It pained Remus too, but he needed to see it. He needed to witness every second of it. Convinced he could carry a piece of the burden. A piece of the misery. Remus had plenty of it on his own, but he was willing to carry more of it if it meant sparing the weight of it on Sirius’s shoulders.

Sirius choked on a small sob. Gritting out the last words like they were stabbing him in the back. “He wanted to die.”

Nobody breathed for a second. Letting the words fester in the quiet of their dread. Peter opened the map. James fully embraced Sirius before he could slump into a pile of anguish again. Remus’s ears were ringing.

Moony howled. Calling for the other wolf. The werewolf who was Regulus. Regulus Black, who tried to drown himself last night, and Remus knew why. He was the same once. Twelve years ago, he used to beg his parents to let him die. The pain was too much. He was scared and confused. Couldn’t recognize himself anymore. A curse he wouldn’t wish on anymore. A curse that now consumed Regulus.

“H-he’s in the Charms classroom,” Peter stuttered out, trying to find something to comfort Sirius. “With Lovegood.”

Sirius nodded mutely. A part of his shoulders relaxed. Tension easing away, but sorrow persisted in his eyes. 

James was at a loss for words. It surprised Remus. James usually knew what to say in these moments. Knew how to comfort Sirius best. But the same heartbreak etched on Sirius’s face was echoed in James’s. It pained Remus to know the cause of it, but he was unable to speak it. The words still stuck in his throat. Regulus is a werewolf.

Instead, Sirius wiped his face, pushed away from James, and reached into his pocket. Held the shrunken moon globe in his hand like it was something precious. Something loved. “I need to get him out of that house.”

James looked down at his own hands before clenching them into fists. “Yes, we will. We’ll help him, and he’ll come home. With us.”

There was a hard determination sparking between James and Sirius. Remus and Peter shared an anxious look. Whatever happened next was out of their control.

***

The full moon was tonight. Remus sat out going to Hogsmeade. Needing to preserve his energy (and tolerance) for their apparition classes later that day. The boys decided to sit out with Remus, and the girls complained about it.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Marlene snapped. They were all standing in the courtyard. Marlene sported tan pants and a white ruffled blouse. Mary and Lily wore muggle jeans and long-sleeve t-shirts. “We’re getting all the supplies for Remus’s birthday party.”

“Which is why we’re paying for everything,” James answered, handing a pouch filled with galleons to Lily.

“Then why aren’t you going?” Mary asked, reaching for the pouch and hissing when Lily slapped her hand away. “Actually, why isn’t Sirius? Isn’t he the party planner?”

Sirius smiled. It wasn’t his usual lopsided smile. Mood still tender from yesterday’s emotional breakdown. But he tried anyway. “I’m relinquishing my title to our perfect prefect princess, Lily.”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. Feeling the onset of another headache. His friends were being too loud. Moony was more restless than usual. Anticipating and waiting. For the moon and the other wolf. 

Marlene swung an arm over Lily’s shoulders. “You seeing this, Lils? This is why we girls have to do everything around here.”

Mary laughed, her vanilla perfume wafted in the air. “You fools. You’ve given us all this power. You’re not allowed to complain about the decorations we pick.”

“Go wild, girls,” Peter said.

Marlene opened her mouth to retort. Probably something about how the boys were abandoning them. She visibly snapped her mouth shut, glancing at something behind Peter. The smell of sea salt intensified.

Dorcas was squinting down at a piece of parchment in her hand. She wore a puff-sleeved purple blouse tucked into her long black skirt. The Slytherin was entirely focused on her reading when she bumped into Peter after arriving in the courtyard.

“Watch it, Pettigrew,” Dorcas grumbled, having dropped her paper and quill on the floor.

“I didn’t do anything,” Peter protested, taking a step back when Dorcas glared in his direction.

“Oi, Dorcas,” Mary said, “you seem rather tense today.”

“I’m fine,” Dorcas hissed between her teeth.

James picked up the fallen parchment, his eyes reading over it. Dorcas snatched it away from him swiftly. As if she was trying to hide something. It wasn’t until the scent of lavender and what he now recognized as Regulus blew in the gentle breeze that it all came back to Remus.

Warning Sirius to stay away from his brother. The wild scent that stuck to her. The obvious avoidance of the marauders. The late-night werewolf research. The healer’s file. All of that was about Regulus. Dorcas knew.

“On your own today, Dorcas?” Lily attempted to lighten the mood.

Dorcas’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask? Because I’m not hanging out with other sixth-years enough?” It was a sensitive subject. Dorcas had been teased about spending the majority of her time with students a year below her. A stupid reason to make fun of someone.

Marlene stepped in, speaking in a rush of words. “Not at all! We were heading out to Hogsmeade, and if you weren’t with anybody today, then we thought you could join us. Not that you have to come, just if you wanted to. But we’d like to have you with us either way.”

Dorcas’s face softened before a smooth giggle sounded out of her. “It is just me today. My friends decided to stay in the common room.” She pressed the parchment closer to her chest. “I do have a shopping list to go through, so if you don’t mind my company, then I wouldn’t be opposed to joining you.”

“Girls outing!” Lily and Mary cheered together. The girls waved goodbye before heading out to Hogsmeade. Leaving the marauders to themselves.

“Huh, I’m surprised Regulus isn’t going. He usually spends all his time in the Hogsmeade bookshops,” James commented.

Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “How do you know that?”

James blinked before letting out a choppy laugh. Remus didn’t see what the joke was about. “Oh, you know, I’ve seen him around sometimes. Uh, Sirius mentioned a bunch of times how much Regulus likes to read.”

When James looked over at Sirius for some sort of contribution to the conversation, the other boy was busy scanning through the map. Sirius hadn’t let it go, glancing at it periodically to keep an eye out on his brother. “He’s in the Slytherin dorms,” Sirius breathed in relief.

James rested his head on Sirius’s shoulder to look at the map. “With Crouch,” he spat.

Peter leaned over to also peek at the map. “Lovegood’s heading this way.”

They all stared at the paved path when the Ravenclaw girl walked in wearing a long white dress with a blue ribbon tied at her waist. 

The skirt was stained with red splatters. Her blonde hair was messily wrapped in a high bun. Wand pointed upwards, levitating a leaking cardboard box. Lovegood wiped away the red stain on her cheek with the back of her hand. She nodded at them once she noticed they were watching her.

“The chickens,” Lovegood said, continuing on her way inside the castle. “To nourish others is a noble sacrifice.”

The smell emitting from the box was mouth-watering to Remus. The red stains on Lovegood confirmed it was blood. Chicken blood. He slapped a hand over his nose to block out the smell of a fresh kill. Biting down on his tongue to stop the growl vibrating in his throat.

Once she was out of sight, Peter looked out of sorts. “Are you sure she’s Regulus’s best friend? They’re very…different.”

“Since first year,” Sirius replied, equally bothered. Had Remus not known the reason Lovegood was transporting dead chickens, he’d be just as worried.

“Regulus’s friends have strange interests,” James said. “Dorcas’s shopping list included sheep bones from Baker’s Market and horned-serpentskin gloves from Woven Wardrobe.”

Dorcas didn’t take Care of Magical Creatures. To Remus’s knowledge, no potion required sheep bones as an ingredient. Professor Sprout only required dragonhide gloves for Herbology. Strange interests, indeed. Werewolf-related interests? Most likely. Regulus’s friends are doing the best they can.

“This is why I’ll never understand girls,” Sirius muttered, turning back to look at the map.

The day went by as it usually did for Remus on full moon days. Tired and in pain, but never lonely. The marauders did their best to distract Remus while trying not to be too annoying. The girls returned with loads of shopping bags and parcels. Telling Remus not to peek and ruin the surprise. The wolf kept pacing. Kept waiting.

It wasn’t long after their apparition class that Remus’s hunched-over form started to ache terribly. He drowned out the girls’ conversation at dinner and responded minimally to any questions directed at him. 

When the marauders led him to the hospital wing, it was the same old routine of promising to see each other later. Pomfrey had fed Remus his portion of raw, bloody meat. The wolf kept pacing. Kept waiting. 

Alone in the Shrieking Shack, no one could see the ripping of flesh. The rearranging of muscle and bone. The prowling beast that was Moony.

He sniffed at the flat ground. Finding faint traces of his pack. The entrance opened, and a small black wolf ran inside.

Padfoot rubbed his nose against Moony’s before he licked his face in greeting. Moony, Moony. Padfoot barked, tail wagging. Leave. Play.

Moony ran out the door into the strange tunnel, followed closely by his pack. Wormtail pulled at something on the roots of a tree, and a passageway opened for them. The smell of fresh air and misty grass captivated him. Moony had paced, and Moony had waited. Moony was free.

He headed in the direction of a strangely formed mountain. A castle, a foreign part of his mind, informed him. It was filled with various scents that were scattered around it. Hidden prey. Moony needed to find them. Chase them. Hunt them down.

A long leg stomped on the dirt. Stop. Prongs always cut Moony off from nearing the castle. Moony would have had the instinctual thought to eat the stag had Prongs not carried the scent of a packmate.

Prongs and Padfoot steered him in the direction of the forest. They ran, chasing each other through the trees. Moony sniffed the air. He stopped. The others ran ahead. He sniffed again.

Moony raised his head to the sky, where a bright, glowing moon illuminated the woods. He took a deep breath and howled. Where are you? His ear twitched, waiting for a response.

A lonely howl answered. I’m here, come find me.

Moony turned in the direction of the howl, preparing to set off and find the other wolf. A different, sharp howl sounded from behind him. I’m coming. Padfoot rushed past him.

The need to chase grew stronger than ever. The need to dominate did too. If he arrived there first, then it would prove just how fast and strong Moony was. Padfoot would be impressed.

Moony sprinted, chasing down the smaller wolf. He growled. Catch you.

Catch me. Padfoot barked back.

It wasn’t until Moony caught the scent of a foreign musk that he tackled Padfoot to the ground. They rolled in the grass before Moony pinned down Padfoot, who nibbled behind Moony’s ear. Moony rubbed his snout along the scruff of Padfoot’s neck. Scenting him with Moony’s smell.

Prongs and Wormtail reached them. The rat hissed. Other wolf. Here. Again.

Up ahead, tied to the thick trunk of a large tree, was a big, black wolf. The wolf watched them with cold, silver eyes. His foreign scent kept Moony on guard. He stood his ground, ears and tail raised high. This was Moony’s territory.

The other wolf growled. Leave. Alone.

Moony snarled. You nothing? A taunt. A challenge.

The black wolf snorted. Me, Shadow.

Shadow. Padfoot barked with a happy wag of his tail. The smaller wolf walked forward, and Moony pushed him down. Padfoot whined. Why stop?

Threat. Danger. Wormtail squeaked.

No danger. Prongs grunted. I protect.

Padfoot pushed against Moony. Moony growled at all of them. Stay. He approached Shadow, who tucked his tail between his legs. Shadow’s muzzle smelled of blood. Chicken.

Moony stood tall, almost looming over the other wolf, who was shrinking into itself. Moony pressed himself against Shadow, sniffing behind his ear. The wolf was young. Weaker. Less experienced than Moony. Shadow knew it too.

Padfoot barked behind him. Don’t hurt. Moony wasn’t sure if Padfoot barked it at him or at Shadow.

Moony growled in Shadow’s twitching ear. Submit.

Shadow whimpered. There was a tense stretch of silence before Shadow bared his throat. Moony nosed at the scruff of fur. He opened his jaw to place around the other wolf’s neck in a challenging threat. When Shadow held still, not rising to the challenge, Moony let him go.

When Moony turned back to his pack, he grumbled, No threat, safe. After properly submitting to Moony, it ensured that Shadow would not dare to attack his pack.

Padfoot wagged his tail again and ran to Shadow. Shadow huffed but allowed Padfoot to approach him. Padfoot nosed at Shadow’s neck before rubbing his head under the wolf’s jaw. Safe. Happy. Padfoot whined.

Moony huffed. Ears pinned back in displeasure. He didn’t like Padfoot’s desire to play with the other wolf. A sudden pinch in the back of his head startled him. Littermates, it yelled. Brothers. Moony scratched at his ear, trying to get the itch out.

Wormtail climbed down Prongs’s back. Nervously running around the tree Shadow was tied to. The rat ran along the bark until it settled on the long metal rope. A chain, Moony was informed again. Shadow ignored Wormtail’s approach.

Prongs stepped forward to sniff at the wolf. Shadow bared his sharp, glistening teeth, but after Padfoot pulled on the wolf’s ear, Shadow turned his head away from the stag. Prongs didn’t like that. Didn’t like being ignored.

The stag stomped his hoof. Pay attention.

No. Shadow whined, continuing to look away from Prongs. Padfoot panted with forceful breaths. Clearly finding it amusing that Prongs grew frustrated over Shadow’s response.

Why not? Prongs wheezed. I’m strong. I’m fast.

Shadow sniffed at Wormtail, who hissed and climbed back down the tree. The rat scrubbed at his face. Shadow snorted. Don’t care.

Wormtail climbed up Moony’s back, clinging onto his fur. Moony grew bored watching Prongs try to befriend Shadow while Padfoot groomed the wolf’s shoulder. The moon had shifted in the sky. Moony’s stomach rumbled. Hunger screamed inside him. He wanted to hunt.

He hurried away to the trees. Moony howled. Follow me.

Prongs grunted. Goodbye. The stag pranced toward Moony, almost showing off in front of Shadow.

Padfoot whined. I leave. He nosed at Shadow’s neck before barking. See you again.

See you again. Shadow whimpered.

Padfoot wagged his tail again before running off to join the rest of their pack. With one last glance at Shadow, Moony ran back into the fields of the forest. The night still belonged to him. Moony knew what happened when the moon disappeared.

He chased after Padfoot. Raced against Prongs. Played with Wormtail. It wasn’t long before something inside Moony began to shift. Not hunger. Not rage. It prickled at his skin.

Soon, Prongs steered him away from the forest. Moony knew he was being herded toward the large tree they had first come out of. He didn’t mind. He had grown tired and achy. Moony’s body felt too big, too wrong.

Padfoot pressed close to Moony when they traveled through the strange tunnel, supporting half of his weight. When they reached the small cave —shack— Moony’s head flooded. A drowning fog of foreign feelings. A heavy daze of thoughts too complicated for him to understand. 

The moon no longer called to him. It abandoned Moony. And just as it vanished over the horizon, Moony also disappeared.

Remus woke up with a headache. Weak muscles and a sore back. A persistent hunger grumbled in his stomach. He heard voices again. The marauders were already deep in their conversation.

“—don’t understand why Shadow likes you more,” James’s voice grumbled.

“What can I say?” Sirius answered, a pleased sound in his voice. “Maybe Padfoot’s a werewolf whisperer.”

Remus couldn’t help but let out a snort at Sirius’s statement. Shadow liked Padfoot because some incomprehensible instinct told him that Padfoot was family. Padfoot was probably unaware of how affectionate he was being with the other wolf, making Moony feel jealous of the brothers.

After his friends helped him sit up and Sirius spread the blanket over both their shoulders, Remus tried to catch up on the conversation.

“I was checking the chains,” Peter said, rubbing his hands together like his raccoon Patronus. “There’s no manual lock, so they’re magically binding.”

“Does he hide his wand somewhere? How does he get the chains off in the morning?” James asked, squinting at his wand. Remus’s own wand was safely kept by Pomfrey, who handed it back once Remus recovered. Otherwise, it would have been destroyed during his transformation.

“The chains were laced with bone marrow. Maybe he was meant to chew through them?”

“If he could chew through the chains, then he would have escaped the tree he’s tied to at any moment.” Sirius ran his fingers through Remus’s ruffled hair. “I think the bone marrow was supposed to help the werewolf want to bite the chains and not himself.”

“When we checked last time, there was nothing on that tree,” James said, “and we’ve all seen Remus in the mornings. How can the other bloke manage to sneak back into the castle? How does he recover without Pomfrey’s healing?”

Remus remembered when Crouch came into the hospital wing with a bloody nose. Dorcas and Lovegood helped steal some of Pomfrey’s potions. He was impressed with how well Regulus was managing on short resources. Remus was lucky that the Hogwarts staff had accommodated him immensely for his werewolf condition. 

Regulus wasn’t coming forward with it. The staff didn’t know there was another werewolf. Regulus was determined to keep the secret to himself. Remus could see why the younger boy had panicked. It was hard enough going through the full moons, even with the loving support of his parents and friends. He couldn’t imagine what Regulus was going through without Hogwarts’ help.

“That means someone else must be helping him,” Peter pointed out. “A friend, maybe?”

“If that’s true,” Sirius said. “Then a student out there knows what to expect from a werewolf.”

James frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means they might figure out Remus is also a werewolf. We don’t know what they’ll do with that information.”

The marauders began to look anxious. Remus felt guilty when he couldn’t tell them it was already too late to worry about that. Regulus already figured out Remus’s secret. He still didn’t know where they stood on that. He had to talk to Regulus.

***

“You can invite Regulus and his friends,” Remus told Sirius the night before his birthday. 

Sirius wasn’t checking the map right now because James volunteered to keep an eye on his brother on the Quidditch pitch. Sirius looked up from the record player he was tinkering with. “Are you sure? It’s your birthday. I don’t want to drag the issues with my brother to your party.”

“Sirius, I’m not going to ask you to stop caring about your brother just because it’s my birthday.” Plus, Remus had his own reasons. Sirius would have his brother nearby and well, while Remus would be able to talk to Regulus. He was killing two birds with one stone here.

Sirius smiled. He stood up and sat on Remus’s bed, where he was studying his Potion notes. Sirius sank his fingers into Remus’s hair and pulled on the back of his head until Sirius caught his lips in a deep kiss. Remus could feel all the tenderness, love, and gratitude taking his breath away. Almost dizzy with it as Sirius snogged him against the pillows.

“If this is going where I think it’s going, it better not be.”

Remus and Sirius broke apart to watch Peter close the door behind him while covering his eyes with a hand.

Sirius laughed, sounding lighter than ever. “You’re safe, Wormy.” He retreated back to the floor to put away the open record player.

“Lily wanted to go over the invite list before she gave it to The Fat Lady.”

“Perfect timing, Peter.” Sirius winked at Remus. “You tell Lily there’s one more group we’re going to add.”

On the evening of March 10th, the Gryffindor common room was decorated with golden steamers, red balloons, and strings of fairy lights. The couches were pushed closer to the walls to make space for dancing, and a table was filled with food and drink. Specifically, whiskey and wine.

Remus’s record player was plugged into Mary’s muggle speakers, belting out Bowie and Queen. All the younger students were ushered to their dorms, and the stairs were charmed to keep them out of the common room. 

The room was filled with a crowd of young teenagers. Laughing, dancing, and shouting over the loud music. Sirius and James both sang a birthday song for Remus. Peter gave Remus his first legal shot of alcohol, now that he was considered an adult.

Lily pushed Mary to dance with Cattermole. Marlene sat on a couch, giggling with Dorcas. James chatted excitedly with Frank and Alice. Remus jumped around with Lily on the dance floor for a bit before Sirius cut in to dip Remus.

Everyone was having a great time. Remus excused himself to get another cup of firewhiskey. Unlike most of his friends, Remus was hardly drunk. The werewolf metabolism took care of that.

While taking a long sip of his cup, Remus caught sight of Lovegood helping Regulus cross over the portrait door. He glanced at Sirius, who was now busy changing a Queen record to one by Bowie. Remus quickly approached them.

“We need to talk,” Remus said, jerking his head over to the corner of the room where the music was furthest away. They could talk privately there.

Bowie’s voice sang through the room. “Still don't know what I was waiting for. And my time was running wild…”

Regulus turned to Lovegood. She stared at Remus with intense scrutiny. Almost like a challenge. Like a threat. Her eyes softened as if she had found something worthy inside of Remus. Lovegood nodded at Regulus. “The King of Hearts, Reg. Listen to what he has to say.”

Regulus watched him carefully before walking over to the spot. Remus tried to give Lovegood a friendly smile before following the Slytherin. Once they could hear each other better without needing to yell over the music, Regulus leaned against the wall, keeping his cane between them like a barrier. “Alright, Lupin, talk.”

“I didn’t tell anyone. I won’t tell anyone,” Remus said. Regulus narrowed his eyes before they looked across the room. Remus followed his gaze, which landed on Sirius, who was egging Peter on to chug his entire cup of firewhiskey. 

“He doesn’t know?”

“Ch-ch-ch-changes! Turn and face the strange. Ch-ch-changes! Just gonna have to be a different man…”

“No, I wouldn’t do something like that,” Remus tried to explain when he noticed Regulus’s distrusting stare. “It’s not my secret to tell. I promised myself I wouldn’t expose another person with our…condition. Please trust that I will keep that promise.”

“I will hold you to your word,” Regulus conceded. He lifted his cane to tap the handle on Remus’s chest. “I’ve kept my mouth shut on the matter for years now, so we’ll see how long you will fare on your end.”

“—they try to change their worlds! Are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through…”

Remus rubbed at his chest. A bit puzzled about the choice of words. “Years?”

Regulus raised a delicate eyebrow. “You don’t truly believe that I just found out in the library. Lupin, I’ve known since my third year. Not to worry, as you’ve said, it’s not my secret to tell. There’s nothing more to say. We’ll keep to ourselves, simple as that.”

Remus was confused. He assumed Regulus avoided Sirius due to the stigma surrounding the perception of werewolves. But if Regulus had known that Sirius cared about Remus despite his curse, then he should have known that Sirius would have wholeheartedly accepted him. Didn’t he?

There was still so much Remus wanted to know: What happened? Who bit you? How long have you been a werewolf? Does your family know? What is your plan? How are you dealing with it? Does it still hurt? Does it scare you? Do you feel like a monster too?

Instead, Remus asked, “Will you be alright?”

Regulus’s hard face softened. It wasn’t any less cautious, but something like empathy passed between them. It was strange for Remus to realize that there was suddenly someone who completely understood what it meant to be a werewolf in a wizard’s world.

“I said that time may change me! But I can't trace time…”

Regulus gave him a slow nod of his head. “As well as I can be.” With that, the younger boy brushed past him. Sirius caught him mid-way toward Lovegood and pulled him to sit on one of the couches.

James found Remus still standing in the same spot. A different song played. “What’re you doing in this lonely corner all by yourself? The party’s over there, mate.” James followed his line of sight, and they both observed the Black brothers as they yelled over each other.

“Things will be fine, right?” Remus needed a bit of James’s easy optimism. Everything was happening so fast. It felt like his life had shifted.

James was quiet for a moment. “Yes, Remus. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

It was overwhelming to have another thing in common with Sirius’s brother, but somehow less lonely. Remus knew his life was about to intertwine with Regulus’s. Moony howled within him, something low and deep. Calling for the other wolf. 

Maybe it already has.

Chapter Text

Regulus was exhausted. Between going through another full moon and confronting Lupin, he had a tiring week. He spent many restless nights trying to forget the near-drowning. He didn’t mean it. It was a mistake. He decided to pretend it never happened.

Regulus refused to talk about it with anyone. As if speaking it out loud would make it real. Would be admitting something was wrong with him. He wanted to stop feeling wrong.

His friends were already burdened with taking care of him. Evan kept using his allowance to bribe dulling potions out of Zabini. Barty had stolen from Madam Pomfrey’s healing supplies. Dorcas was left cleaning up after Regulus’s rage tantrums.

After Pandora resorted to slaughtering Hagrid’s chickens for him, Regulus began to feel queasy over his eating habits. Disgusted at his body’s delight to devour raw meat like a wild animal. Disgusted for becoming one.

He’d started limiting the amount he was eating. Trying to find some control against the beastly appetite. Regulus had been distracting his friends and quietly vanishing the food on his plate. He did it again that Saturday morning, three days after Lupin’s birthday party.

Evan had pushed another plate of sausages toward him, and Regulus purposely spilled his orange juice on Barty’s shirt. In between Barty’s shouts of betrayal, Pandora doing damage control, Evan picking up the fallen cup, and Dorcas casting a quick cleaning spell, the sausages disappeared. They reappeared on an unsuspecting Lockhart’s plate.

It was only because of their halted conversation that Regulus managed to catch the words discussed further down the table:

“–second time this year, and only on the full moons,” Snape was hissing.

“And that means what?” Avery said. “Dark creatures? Come on, Severus, it sounds ridiculous.”

“I’m trying to eat my tatties, Snape,” Caradoc cut in, scooping a spoonful of his sliced potatoes. “Don’t need to hear your havering. Werewolves in Hogwarts? You’re off your head.”

Regulus’s body went stiff. Frozen in place as he listened.

“This is no laughing matter, Dearborn,” Snape said, a serious conviction in his hard stare. “I’ll prove it.” With that, he stood up from his seat and walked out of the Great Hall. Avery and Mulciber were not far behind.

Pandora, ever vigilant of his well-being, nudged Regulus’s frozen form. He shook his head at her questioning gaze, and turned to lean over Dorcas to get Caradoc’s attention. “Morning, Caradoc. I noticed that odd conversation. You don’t normally involve yourself chatting with the likes of Snape.”

Caradoc shrugged. “The git was going on about those odd noises. A’body says they sound like howls.”

Regulus’s throat closed up. A defensive growl wanted to work its way out. It took great effort to squeeze out the words casually, “What do you mean howls?”

“Dunno. It’s the light sleepers. Say they hear howling at night sometimes. Snape was going on about how he reckons there must be werewolves in the Forbidden Forest.”

The rest of the group paused. Barty and Evan were suddenly interested in Caradoc and Regulus’s conversation. Pandora grabbed Regulus’s hand to give him something to hold on to. Dorcas glared daggers at the spot Snape and his friend had been sitting on.

“You think Snape could be right?” Regulus asked carefully. Had he been howling during the full moons? Who else heard? How long before anyone found out the truth?

Caradoc yawned and shook his head slowly. “Trying to start rumors. Pure dobber, that one. ‘Scuse me, mate. I’m still knackered, so I'll take a quick kip before the apparition lessons.” He also stood up and left.

Regulus felt like he was under an Imperius Curse. Moving around without thought or reason. Drowning out the chatter and loud gossip. Thumping his cane all the way out of the Great Hall. He faintly registered the twists and turns of the corridors. It wasn’t until the glare of the morning sun that Regulus snapped back into himself.

They were out in the courtyard, but they weren’t the only ones there. 

Barty walked closer to the group, almost purposefully standing in front of Regulus. “What do we have here? Sirius Orion Black, James Fleamont Potter, Remus John Lupin, and Peter ‘Undisclosed Middle Name’ Pettigrew.”

“I don’t have one,” Pettigrew mumbled.

Sirius stood up from where he was looking at a piece of parchment with James. Regulus took in his minty scent. It calmed the raging panic swirling inside his brain.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, looking past Barty to meet Regulus’s eyes.

Regulus bristled. It sounded like an accusation. Irritation climbed up his skin as he gripped tightly to the handle of his cane. “Pardon? I wasn’t aware this courtyard belonged to you.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Must you be so difficult? I mean, you’re here early for our outing.”

A part of Regulus deflated. Oh, right. At Lupin’s party, Sirius wrangled him into agreeing to spend a Hogsmeade visit together. With the nerve-wracking situation at breakfast, it had slipped his mind.

Regulus stepped forward and nodded over at his friends. They didn’t need to babysit him. To treat him like he was going to break at any moment. Near-drowning notwithstanding. If Regulus wanted to repair his relationship with Sirius, then his friends needed to learn to trust that he could handle being left alone with his brother.

Barty shrugged, a misleading gesture on his part. It looked like resignation. Like he accepted the situation. Regulus knew Barty still had his misgivings about Sirius and was merely tolerating the Gryffindors for Regulus’s sake. “If you’re sure, Reg. We’ll see you later. Come on, let's go.” Barty walked out of the courtyard. 

Evan moved to follow, pointing at Sirius and using his thumb to draw an invisible line across his neck in a silent threat before walking in the same direction as Barty. Dorcas raised two fingers in a v-shape and pointed at her eyes before turning them toward Sirius in a ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. Behind her, Pandora smiled broadly and gave them all a thumbs up. Both girls then turned to follow Evan.

“How lovely,” Pettigrew said, watching all of Regulus’s friends disappear back into the castle.

Regulus paid it no mind and decided to answer Sirius’s earlier question. “I found myself having nothing better to do this morning.” It was a lie. Regulus’s life had taken a turn for the worse. There was so much going on. It kept on coming and wasn’t stopping. Everything had piled up into a mountain of nuisances. 

O.W.L. exams were fast approaching. Slytherin had a Quidditch match coming up next week against Ravenclaw. The next full moon would fall during Easter break. Regulus was expecting to return to Grimmauld for the holiday. He needed to find a way out of that arrangement. 

Not to mention the fact that he’ll be running away from home before the end of the school term. Regulus couldn’t, under any circumstances, go back to his family. They will find out that Regulus was a werewolf and kill him. He needed to contact the other disowned Blacks. Perhaps Andromeda or Uncle Alphard could be of assistance. Take him in for the summer.

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. “Finally figured out how bloody boring you are, did you? Because we’re loads of fun, and you’re no fun at all.”

Regulus shrugged off Sirius’s hand. “Unlike you, I have something called class.” He eyed Sirius’s leather jacket, pretending to find it distasteful. Sirius playfully punched him. Regulus took a moment to notice the lack of force behind it. They had roughhoused before, and Sirius didn’t pull his punches. Why was he being…gentle?

“Oi, I let you be rude to me all you like, but I draw the line at insulting my style.”

“I have lowered myself to the company of miscreants for you, dear brother. I’d hardly call that a style.”

“Bugger off, Reggie.” Sirius grinned, looking very much alive. Regulus was glad for it, even if a lot of Sirius’s newfound joy had nothing to do with him anymore. But his brother was trying to share it with him—this light that he wouldn’t ever find in Grimmauld. In the Black family name.

“I wasn’t expecting you so early, so I didn’t bring my bag with me. Give me a minute and I’ll summon it from the dorms, then we can head out.” Sirius walked out of the courtyard, presumably to find the Gryffindor Tower and Accio his bag through the windows.

Which left Regulus and Sirius’s friends alone with each other. Without Sirius to act as a buffer. He hoped nobody would speak until Sirius came back. He noticed Pettigrew eyeing his cane and squinting at Regulus’s face. Probably taking note of his scars now that they were in closer view.

Regulus’s eyes wandered until they noticed Lupin sitting on the grassy floor. The conversation with Caradoc came rushing back. Unfortunately, Snape’s theory was correct. There are werewolves in Hogwarts. It seemed that Regulus had been howling too many times. He watched Lupin read a book titled Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. Pandora believed Lupin was the King of Hearts card from his fortune reading. Regulus was loathe to admit she was right. He needed to ask Lupin if he knew how to stop a werewolf from howling.

His thoughts were interrupted when James snorted. “Not going to hide away in the library today? You’re always there when you skip out on Hogsmeade.”

Regulus quirked an eyebrow. Normally, he would find that statement odd. How would James know how he spent his weekends? Except lately, Regulus saw more and more of James. Wherever he looked these days, the bespectacled boy was within sight. Had he always been there, and Regulus simply never noticed before?

“Keeping an eye on me, Potter?”

Something lights up behind James’s eyes. Like he enjoyed trading short remarks with Regulus. “No more than usual, Baby Black.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you prefer Reg, then? Or Reggie?” James winked, and Regulus turned away, or else his face would flush from the teasing.

“I’d prefer if you don’t refer to me at all.” It would save him the heart palpitations.

James pretended to think that over before running a hand through his hair. He leaned closer, and Regulus kept eye contact with him. James shot him a cocky smile. All teeth and lips and sunlight. “It sounds to me like you’re in need of a new nickname.”

There went the heart palpitations. The cane’s handle pressed against James’s chest, intending to push him away. “Spare me,” Regulus said, but the cane remained still. Hovering between them. Allowing him, for a moment, to bask under the sun.

A loud cough broke the moment, and the cane performed its duty of pushing James away. James yelled and jumped back. But instead of an offended glare being aimed at Regulus, James glowered over at Lupin.

Lupin raised a questioning eyebrow, his eyes jumping between James and Regulus as if trying to solve an odd Arithmancy problem. James quickly tensed and backed away. Leaving Regulus feeling confused about the whole situation.

Sirius soon returned with a small bag; no doubt filled with money. Regulus tried not to let that unsettle him. Noble pureblood families sent weekly allowances to their children at Hogwarts to flaunt their wealth. Since being disowned, their parents hadn’t sent Sirius a single galleon. It was reassuring that Sirius was still being taken care of. The Potters had done a good job loving their own son; Sirius was in good hands.

He watched Sirius pass the bag to James, both joking around about things Regulus didn’t understand. Pettigrew came by, and Sirius punched him playfully for something that happened yesterday. Lupin stood up, closed his book, and grabbed Sirius hand. Lacing their fingers together. Sirius was surrounded by all the people he loved. It was rather obvious how much of an uneven puzzle Regulus added to the mix by simply being here.

Oh no, it was happening again. He was poison. Infecting the people he cared about with his filth. With all the messy qualities that made Regulus not good enough. Maybe this was a bad idea. Reconnecting with Sirius meant weighing him down with all of Regulus’s problems again. Wasn’t that the reason Sirius left? To be free of his childhood burdens? Of the family expectations?

“Are you ready to go?” Sirius asked, interrupting Regulus’s thoughts. Regulus nodded, having nothing else to say.

They all headed out to Hogsmeade. Other students filled the streets and crowded the shops. Sirius and his friends eagerly went inside Honeydukes, no doubt to stock up on Lupin’s chocolate addiction. 

Regulus watched the other students go about their day, ignoring most of their scents. Trying to observe if any of them suspected werewolves. His eyes caught the window display of Spintwitches Sporting Needs, where a new broom model was laid out. He strolled over to get a better look.

It was sleek and shiny, with ‘Nimbus One Thousand Eight Hundred’ inscribed in gold at the top of its mahogany handle. It had a tail of neat, straight twigs. The Regulus of the past would have immediately stormed into the shop and purchased the latest Nimbus model. The Regulus of the present was in a shopping ban. Saving up the allowances for when he too would become disowned. When he’ll run away from home. If he made it that far, that is.

The scent of sweet coconuts caught his nose, and when Regulus heard the heavy footsteps walk up beside him, he found Dirk Cresswell also looking into the window. Dirk’s dirty blond hair was messy, like he’d just finished flying on a broom. 

Regulus used to sit by the window overlooking the Quidditch pitch, pretending to read, and watch Dirk practice with his team. A habit he developed when he used to do the same thing while watching James. Thankfully, he broke that habit last year after Evan called it his near-stalking hobby. He flinched at the memory of his old idiotic, lovestruck self.

“I heard it has a stronger glide,” Dirk said, making friendly conversation. “Maybe it can finally give me an advantage against your infamous feint.”

“No amount of broom power will give you that advantage, Cresswell. It’s all natural talent.” Regulus replied. He enjoyed the amiable rivalry he formed with Dirk. It was what attracted Regulus to him when Dirk first joined the Ravenclaw team.

Dirk leaned a bit closer, a challenging glint in his eyes. “Will you be bringing that ‘natural talent’ to our match next week?”

Before Regulus could answer, a voice behind them loudly said, “Of course he will. Baby Black here is the best seeker I’ve ever seen.” 

Both Dirk and Regulus leaned away from each other to look at the new arrival. Dirk looked a bit confused at the interruption, but Regulus frowned. “Don’t call me that,” Regulus said, irritation laced in his voice. “And I don’t remember asking for your input, Potter.”

James stood a few paces away with a suspicious look on his face when he eyed Dirk. When his eyes met Regulus’s, he flashed him a quick smile. For some reason, Regulus’s icy response seemed to bring James great joy. “You have it anyway.”

“What do you want? I thought you and my brother would spend the entire day in the sweets shop.” Which did defeat the purpose of Sirius asking him to spend a Hogsmeade visit together, but Regulus had gotten used to being pushed aside. Being a second choice. A spare.

“Do you think so little of us to believe we would just leave you outside all on your own? Regulus, you wound me.” James clutched at his chest as if in pain.

Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh from spilling out of his lips at the ridiculousness that was James Potter. That same light from earlier shined behind James’s glasses. Rather pleased with himself for making Regulus laugh. Regulus bit his lip to stop the laughter, annoyed at himself for giving James something to tease him about later.

“Then perish.” Regulus dismissed James’s interruption and turned back to look at Dirk, who appeared amused by Regulus’s rude comment. Regulus felt his ears warm with embarrassment.

Regulus worked hard to appear polite and composed. To contrast the whirlwind that was Sirius. Professors had a way of expecting a younger sibling to model after the older one. The amount of grief Regulus endured in his first year over Sirius’s past misconduct had been frustrating.

Regulus cleared his throat. Shifting himself back into a prim and proper student. “I’m sure to give you a hard time during our match. I promised that last year, and I will promise that this year. Do your best, Cresswell, because I will do so much better.” 

Dirk laughed. “I look forward to it.”

“Reggie!” 

Regulus saw Sirius and his friends standing a few feet away. Sirius waved his arms around, trying to get his attention.

“Excuse me, Cresswell. I’ll be taking my leave.”

Dirk nodded and turned back to look at the broom. Regulus walked past James in the direction Sirius was waiting. James matched his pace.

“Why don’t you threaten me like that during our matches?” James whined, crossing his arms like he was genuinely upset.

“You’re a chaser,” Regulus pointed out. If he had to threaten anyone on the Gryffindor team, it would be McKinnon. She was a fellow seeker.

The rest of the morning went by smoothly. Sirius dragged him into all sorts of shops. They had explored plenty, looking through little knick-knacks and reminiscing about simpler days. Sirius pointed at a solemn-looking cat at the pet shop and told Regulus, ‘that’s you’. Regulus, in turn, pointed at an energetic puppy and said, ‘that’s you’. Sirius listened as he spoke about his interests and hobbies. Regulus listened when Sirius spoke about his misadventures and the birthday present he had given to Lupin. It felt like they were relearning each other. Like being brothers again.

As the afternoon set in, Sirius, James, and Pettigrew decided to end their day with a drink and disappeared inside the Three Broomsticks Inn. Regulus and Lupin declined, so they agreed to wait outside. Now that the two werewolves were left on their own, Regulus used this opportunity to confront the King of Hearts.

“I need to speak with you,” Regulus said. Without waiting for a response, he began to walk the path that led toward the Shrieking Shack. Lupin followed closely behind.

Once they reached the fenced building, Regulus observed the poor state of the shack. It looked close to pieces. With a werewolf going wild in it every month, he was impressed that it was still standing. Lupin took the space next to him, and they both watched the eerie building like it spelled their doom. Reminded them of what they had to look forward to. Another night of misery. Another night of tearing themselves apart. Of becoming monsters.

Regulus took a deep breath. Keeping his eyes on the shack. Needing to appear composed. Unperturbed. Unafraid. “Is there any way to stop the howling?”

Lupin shifted, turning to face Regulus. “Stop it?”

“I’ve heard rumors. Some students have mentioned hearing howling at night.” Regulus lifted his cane to point at the shabby building. “You can scream and bark as much as you’d like in that shack of yours, but I cannot.”

“Rumors?”

“I overheard a conversation this morning at the Slytherin table. Snape suspects werewolves.”

Regulus expected Lupin to look nervous. To panic the same way he did. Instead, Lupin just sighed. “Snape’s had it out for me for a while. I’m sure he wouldn’t look your way. Nothing to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about? Regulus growled. Lupin had no right to say that. The other werewolf was safe in the shack. He was safe at Hogwarts. Safe at home. If anyone were to find out about Regulus’s furry little problem, then the staff would alert his parents. His parents would kill him.

Lupin tilted his head, frowning down at Regulus. “Don’t growl at me,” he said with displeasure. Something commanding in his voice. It itched against Regulus’s skin.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Regulus said through gritted teeth. A part of him was angry at Lupin. A part of him was scared. Deep irritation clawed its way up his arms. There was that urge again. To rip and tear and sink his teeth in. To eliminate the threat.

Lupin stood his ground. Taking two bold steps forward, looming over Regulus as if daring him to sink his teeth into Lupin’s neck. It was meant to intimidate him. To make Regulus fall back into place. Regulus refused.

Lupin yanked at his arm, and Regulus hissed at the harsh grip. Lupin’s brown eyes glinted gold for a moment. Something inside Regulus howled. Begged him to back down. To submit. Regulus refused.

“Let go of me.” He pulled against Lupin’s hold. Regulus could feel the energy drain out of him. The pounding in his head roared. The emptiness in his stomach gurgled. He was so tired.

“Moony.”

They both froze. Lupin let go of his arm, and Regulus took a step back. A few feet away stood Sirius in his smooth leather jacket, holding a box of Chocolate Frogs.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asked, eyes moving back and forth between them.

Regulus bit back a groan of frustration. Not letting his soured attitude ruin his day with his brother. He was composed. He was unfazed. He refused to drag out his problems where they didn’t belong. “Are you all done? I had Lupin here show me the Shrieking Shack. I was merely asking him if he believed the rumors that the shack was haunted. You interrupted our…debate.”

“Some debate you had,” Sirius said, walking closer until he stood between them, “if you were willing to start a fight over it.”

“No fight.” Regulus glared over at Lupin behind Sirius’s back. Lupin scowled back. “Just a passionate disagreement.”

Sirius opened the chocolate packaging. He handed the frog treat to Lupin. They stared at each other, silently communicating. Another thing Regulus would never understand.

Sirius then turned to Regulus and held up a card. “Here, Reggie, for your collection.”

A collection Regulus didn’t own anymore. He stopped collecting chocolate frog cards when he was twelve. Another thing Sirius would never understand. Regulus accepted the card.

Once they regrouped with James and Pettigrew, they all headed back to Hogwarts. Sirius kept himself between Regulus and Lupin the entire way. Once they reached the main entrance of the castle, James insisted on escorting Regulus back to his dorm. After saying goodbye to Sirius, they made their way to the dungeons.

At the entrance to the Slytherin common room, James lingered, and Regulus couldn’t speak the password in front of a Gryffindor. Especially a pranking Gryffindor with a vendetta against Slytherins. Regulus hadn’t forgotten about the gum explosion in second year nor the flooding in fourth year.

“I meant what I said back at Hogsmeade,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think you’re the best seeker I’ve ever seen. I’d hate to admit it, but with you on the team, Slytherin’s sure to win against Ravenclaw.”

Regulus tried not to feel too pleased by James’s compliments. He breathed in the lingering traces of Sirius’s scent, which calmed his racing heart. He considered thinking of a quick, witty retort before exhaustion set in. If he was going to be part of Sirius’s life again, that meant seeing more of his friends too. He decided to give them both a small mercy.

Regulus relaxed his face, allowing the corner of his lips to lift into a small smile. “I appreciate the bout of confidence, Captain.”

James’s eyes widened for a second before he looked away and coughed into his fist. When he turned back, there was a sheepish grin on his face. “I’m not a captain yet.”

Regulus scoffed. “As if Longbottom would pick anyone else.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am.”

James’s cheeks colored for some reason. The scent of pine grew thicker. Was he embarrassed about how obvious it was that he’d be the next Gryffindor captain? About his Quidditch obsession? “Then I’ll make sure to not disappoint the star seeker next year.”

“Of course.” Regulus rolled his eyes. As if James truly cared about his opinion. It was a sweet thought nonetheless. “You’ll be late to your apparition lessons.”

“I don’t mind.” James smiled like he really believed that.

“Goodbye, Potter.”

“I’ll see you around, Regulus.”

Once Regulus was safely tucked away in his corner of the dorm room, he pulled out the chocolate frog card. He stared at the face and name: Newt Scamander, the author of Fantastic Beasts.

Regulus wasn’t sure if he would ever truly feel fantastic again.

***

They had been meeting in the same dungeon room the Patronus Charm lessons had been conducted in for the past week. Dorcas finally agreed to teach them the spell. Terrible timing on her part. The charm relied on happy memories, and Regulus’s present situation wasn’t particularly happy.

Dorcas’s rattlesnake slithered between their feet. Evan’s wild boar kept ramming into Barty’s leg. Barty’s komodo dragon ran circles around Evan. Pandora’s rabbit hopped around the room. They had all taken to the spell rather quickly. Leaving Regulus behind.

Light streamed out of his wand, winding the incorporeal form. No one wanted to comment on Regulus’s failure. Usually, spells weren’t too difficult for him to master. Usually, Regulus wasn’t always in a terrible mood.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Dorcas suggested.

“I don’t need one,” Regulus replied. A break was the last thing on his mind. To catch up he needed to work even harder.

“You’ve been holding that spell for an hour now. I think you should give yourself a breather.”

He ignored her suggestion, keeping the spell going. Trying to force himself to think of something happy. “I insist that I don’t need a break.”

“I insist that you do.”

“I’m fine.” His hands trembled as he gripped his wand, still too agitated to relax.

“Not with the way you’re going if you keep up that spell—”

“I said I’m fine!”

The room grew quiet. Regulus blinked back through the haze of anger. The spell collapsed. His wand couldn’t hold the incorporeal form anymore. His friends’ Patronuses vanished at Regulus’s sharp tone.

Dorcas held a look of surprise. Regulus hardly yelled at her. He respected her too much to ever want to go against her advice. Barty and Evan made a chorus of ‘oohh’s’ as if Regulus had badmouthed a professor.

One look at Pandora, and Regulus knew he was poison again. Infecting everyone he loved. Dragging his problems where they didn’t belong. She watched him carefully with disappointment, and that hurt more than any Crucio curse could. Regulus closed his eyes and took deep breaths to calm his anger. His rage.

“I apologize.” Regulus laid down, holding on to the cane for emotional support. “I’ve just been stressed over the letters.”

They all knew the amount of parchment Regulus went through trying to write the perfect letters. He was going to reach out to Andromeda and Uncle Alphard. To find a way out of going back home. He sent the letters, hoping for a miracle.

He’d submitted his name to Slughorn to stay at Hogwarts for the Easter break. Slughorn returned his submission to inform him that his parents had vetoed the decision. Unless he managed to get permission from a relative of legal age, he would have to spend the next full moon at Grimmauld. Regulus was anxiously waiting for their reply.

“How about this,” Barty said, “we’ll wait until after the Easter break, when all the horrible things have passed, and then you can try again.”

“You look exhausted,” Pandora added. 

Regulus rubbed at his temples. Another headache was pounding in his brain. “Alright, I’ll take a break.”

When they exited the room, Dorcas and Pandora made their way to the dorms. They still had fifteen minutes before dinner, so Regulus decided to head over to the owlery tower.

“Where are you going?” Barty eyed Regulus’s cane. Most likely calculating how much energy the Patronus Charm drained out of him.

Regulus waved off the concern. “I’ll check if any new letters have come in.”

“We’ll be waiting in the courtyard for you,” Evan said.

Regulus made his way to the owlery. Feathers blew around as all kinds of birds flew in and out of the tower. He found Andromeda’s tawny owl and Uncle Alphard’s raven fitting over treats. Small envelopes tied to their legs. Untying the letters, he shooed the birds away. Before he could open them, another smaller owl flew overhead, dropping a letter on Regulus’s head.

Regulus recognized the cream-colored envelope and opened it first. He read through the parchment. The Prewett brothers had remained in contact with Regulus after they dropped him off at Pandora’s house. The scene in which they found Regulus that fateful night deeply affected the brothers, so they often checked in on him. The Prewetts inquired about Regulus’s health and told tales of their daily lives. Gideon had written about getting into trouble with his older sister after a broom accident occurred when he babysat his nephews.

The smell of sweat and pine drew near. “Who’s Gideon?”

He startled, the cane falling out of his grip and Regulus falling with it. Until strong arms wrapped around his back, halting his fall. Regulus stared up at James, who grinned down at him.

Regulus lifted himself back up and pushed against James’s hold. James’s hair was swept back by the wind. Drops of sweat on his forehead. He was wearing his Quidditch uniform. “Merlin, Potter, what is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” James answered, hands held up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“I meant, why are you sneaking up behind my back to read my private letters?” A part of Regulus was relieved that James had only seen Gideon’s letter and not Andromeda’s or Uncle Alphard’s. If Sirius found out that Regulus was planning to run away from home, then he’d want to know why. He wasn’t ready to answer that question yet.

“I wasn’t trying to sneak up behind you,” James rushed to say. “And I didn’t read your letter. I just saw the name signed at the bottom. Who’s Gideon? Doesn’t sound like someone in Hogwarts.”

“Because you happen to know everyone at Hogwarts?”

“You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

Regulus folded the letter back into the envelope. “Gideon is someone I met over the winter break.” Rather, someone he owed his life to. If the Prewett brothers hadn’t appeared in time with the Knight Bus, then Regulus would have died at the jaws of the werewolf that attacked him.

“Oh.” Something in James’s voice sounded off. An almost strangled noise ripping out of him. “Like…like a boyfriend?”

Regulus blinked. “Are you joking? Gideon isn’t my boyfriend.”

“But you wouldn’t be opposed?”

“Pardon?”

“To a boyfriend.” James ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, trying to smooth it down from the bird’s nest mess that it was. Regulus wished to run his own hands through it. To feel the soft locks of hair against his skin. And maybe, for once, he wouldn’t ruin something he touched.

“No, I wouldn’t be opposed. Quite the opposite. Though it’s not like I’d have one anytime soon.” Or possibly ever.

“Why not?” James frowned, as if Regulus’s sad love life personally offended him.

“Look at me.” Regulus gestured toward his scarred face and limp leg. Not to mention the ugly beast that lived inside him. “I doubt anyone would find me appealing at the moment.”

“I think you’re lovely.”

Regulus’s breath gets caught in his throat. They both stared at each other. The world held still for a second. He was delighted. He was confused. The words were all-consuming. Burrowing into his heart. And Regulus didn't know what to do with it. Because James couldn’t have meant it the way Regulus wished he did. Much like the sun, James was someone far from his reach.

“You don’t have to lie for my sake, Potter.” He gripped the letters in his hand. “Excuse me, my friends are waiting for me.” Regulus moved to walk past James. When he reached the entrance of the tower, a hand wrapped around his wrist. A tender hold. Much gentler than when Lupin grabbed him days ago.

“Before you go,” he heard James say, “I want you to know that we’ll be cheering for you during your match this week. I’m not much of a Slytherin supporter, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”

Regulus refused to turn around, keeping his eyes on the threshold. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

The hand squeezed his wrist once before letting go. Regulus retreated as quickly as he could. Through the corridors, he flexed his fingers, still feeling the heat of James’s hand on his skin. He tried to erase its imprint. He wasn’t supposed to get pulled back into James’s charms. He couldn’t afford to dwell on heartbreak.

Regulus needed to escape any more thoughts of James. Instead, he spent his time reading through the rest of the letters. It felt like the longest walk of his life.

Barty and Evan were waiting for him in the courtyard. Evan stood by as Barty seemed to be in a one-sided conversation with a chatty seventh-year witch. Soon, Barty lifted Evan’s arm and laid it over his shoulders, slotting himself on the other boy’s side. Evan didn’t even blink, letting Barty do as he pleased.

“I’d love to continue our little Quidditch chat, Jorkins. But Evan and I have a study session to get to.”

Bertha Jorkins gave them a sheepish smile. “Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt. We’ll talk later?”

“Of course,” Barty flashed her a polite ‘my dad has a ministry job’ smile. They watched Jorkins walk away, and Barty’s smile fell into a relieved grimace. Regulus quickly approached, taking up Jorkins’s spot.

“I thought I’d never get rid of her,” Barty continued. He moved back, but Evan’s arm was still looped around his shoulders, holding firm as Barty tried to pull away. “Thanks Ev, she’s gone now.” Evan’s arm circled around Barty’s neck and tightened against his throat. “Evan, stop,” Barty choked. “Regulus! Reg!”

Regulus sighed, “Let him breathe, Evan.”

Evan let go, and Barty stumbled forward, catching himself on his knees and wheezing for air.

“Clearly I’ve missed something,” Regulus said, watching Barty catch his breath.

“Barty has to pay for his Quidditch crimes,” Evan muttered. Ah, that made sense. Barty had the unbearable habit of making flirty comments at the players. Slughorn must be pulling a lot of strings to make McGonagall agree to keep Barty as commentator.

“Alright, I’ll go easy on the flirting.” Barty straightened back up. “But I’ll save the best comments for you, Reg.”

“Don’t.”

Evan rolled his eyes before gazing down at the letters clutched in Regulus’s hand. “And?”

Regulus sighed. Andromeda was sympathetic to his case but concluded that the Tonks didn’t have the power or wealth to gain custody of him against the likes of Walburga. Uncle Alphard was supportive but needed to put his affairs in order before he could successfully help Regulus out of his parents’ house. Uncle Alphard asked for more time. Regulus could only give him until summer arrived.

Which left him with one last option. “I need to talk to Sirius.”

***

The last of the winter chill finally vanished, and the sun’s rays shone brighter over the pitch. Regulus soaked in the bath. The team’s practices had become more grueling the closer they got to the game’s date.

He looked at his hands. Moved each finger. Confirming human digits. Human limbs. They were on the verge of the new moon. Regulus was supposed to feel the most normal, but something felt off. His stomach rumbled again. He’d tested whether he could cast a silencing spell on his stomach (he could) and on his hunger (he couldn’t).

Irritation continued to itch along his skin. The anger kept coiling around the pit of his stomach. It didn’t make sense. Regulus wasn’t sure what was wrong. The wolf’s instincts shouldn’t be eating at him so far away from the full moon. Yet Regulus couldn’t stop his short temper. His carefully composed mask was slipping away with each passing day.

He talked to Sirius. Regulus explained that he needed Sirius to sign the papers to override their parents’ objection. When Sirius asked why Regulus wanted to stay for the break, he lied. Insisted he needed more time to study for his O.W.L.’s. His brother believed him.

Sirius agreed to sign under the condition that Regulus had to sit with him in the Great Hall for dinner every day until Easter break. Regulus suspected Sirius had ulterior motives, but Sirius assured him he only wanted to spend more time with him before Regulus went exam-crazy.

Regulus had no choice but to agree to his conditions. Even if it meant having to be in the company of James and Lupin. Easter was only two weeks away. He could do it.

“Reg!” Barty obnoxiously banged on the door. “Get your arse out here. Talkalot will have your head if you’re not ready in time for the match.”

“I’ll be right out,” Regulus yelled back.

After dressing, Dorcas and Regulus headed toward the Slytherin locker rooms. They changed into their green Quidditch uniforms. The team walked onto the pitch to a crowd of noise. Half the stands waved green flags with glittering silver serpents and banners stating, ‘Go Slytherin!’. The other half wore blue, and the bronze hues of eagles adorned their flags.

“Here come the Slytherins!” Barty’s voice boomed across the pitch. “Talkalot, Dearborn, Black, Greengrass, Meadowes, Avery, and Mulciber. Also known as the winning team.”

“Crouch,” the warning tone of Professor McGonagall, was heard through the magical megaphone.

“Right, right, unbiased commentary,” Barty muttered before launching into another tirade of words. “And here comes the Ravenclaw team: Cresswell, Clearwater, Yang, Edgecombe, Shaqif, Nowell, and Fenwick.”

“Captains, shake hands,” Madam Hooch instructed. Talkalot and Edgecombe grasped each other’s hands. “Mount your brooms!”

At the sound of the whistle, brooms rose into the air. Regulus had left his cane with Evan, who stood somewhere in the crowd of green clothes. Regulus felt the thrill of freedom as he soared through the rest of the players in search of the snitch.

“Helen Shaqif has the quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin rings, looking good in that uniform. But the quaffle is intercepted by Duncan Avery—no, he fumbles, dropping it to evade a bludger from Roger Edgecombe flying with those delicious thighs. The quaffle is caught by Jennet Nowell…”

Through his search, Regulus caught a glimpse of Pandora in her dark blue dress, cheering on the Ravenclaw team, but still wore his green scarf around her neck. 

Clearwater swerved in front of him to catch the quaffle, and Regulus looped around him to prevent the chaser from throwing the ball to a teammate.

“Regulus Black blocks bright-eyed Callum Clearwater from passing, and there goes Lucinda Talkalot, taking the quaffle right from under his nose. She flexes those smooth biceps to throw and scores! Ten-zero to Slytherin!”

The sea of green screamed in delight. Among the Gryffindor stands, Regulus spotted the familiar face of his brother, waving a small green flag in the air. James stood next to him with green paint on his cheeks, hands in the air, and loud cheers pouring from his mouth. Warmth filled him, buzzing somewhere in the back of his head with the urge to win. To prove himself capable. To prove them all wrong.

A blur of gold zoomed through. Regulus dived down, just missing a bludger from Edgecombe. He swerved in the direction he spotted the golden snitch, which zipped close to Anita. Regulus didn’t think of the proximity when he headed straight for it, nearly smashing into Anita.

“Oi!” Caradoc yelled over the crowd. “Get your head in the game, mate!”

Caradoc’s yells distracted him, and he lost sight of the snitch. Regulus turned to their keeper, and irritation sank deep inside him again. Pounding rage and adrenaline simmered under his skin. Like a wild hunter, Regulus needed to catch that snitch.

“Pretty boy Black is tearing through the pitch, has he spotted the snitch? Dirk Cresswell is right on his tail! Oh, a bludger from gorgeous Dorcas Meadowes sends Clearwater spiraling. Leaving the quaffle for our lovely Anita Greengrass to take.”

Regulus leaned on his broom for extra speed, causing him to be incapable of halting on the turns. He slammed through Fenwick, whose bludger accidentally hit Mulciber even though he’d been aiming at Anita. Mulciber yelled at Regulus, but it fell on deaf ears.

Regulus flew past green and blue shapes. Losing track of time in his single-minded focus to find the snitch. The exhilaration of the chase made him feel alive. More than flying usually did. The savage urge to catch this prey consumed him. Even slamming into Avery to evade Dirk and getting in the way of Talkalot passing the quaffle to Anita.

He registered Barty shouting, “Fifty-fifty, Slytherin to Ravenclaw!”

Regulus looked around, and a tiny spot of gold shimmered under the sunlight. Dirk hadn’t seen it yet, keeping a careful eye on Regulus.

Regulus swerved his broom over to Avery, pretending to have spotted the snitch. Dirk flew toward them even as the snitch hovered over the Ravenclaw rings. Another shape flew toward him, and Regulus gripped the handle to throw himself underneath, hanging upside down before using the momentum to spin back up onto his broom.

Avery shouted as the bludger collided against his shoulder instead. Dirk looked around, trying to find where Regulus had spotted the snitch. Regulus threw himself flat on the broom handle and zoomed toward the Ravenclaw keeper. 

He stretched his arm, closing in on the glinting sphere, and his fingertips grazed a flapping wing when—

A hard force knocked against the back of his head. Pain pulsed into his skull, and specks of dark spots filled his vision. He felt himself tip forward, his body went limp when he let go of the broom’s handle. Wind rushed all around him.

The dark spots spread until his entire vision went pitch-black. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and Regulus knew nothing else but the embrace of darkness.

***

It had been unbearably lonely the year Sirius left for Hogwarts. To make up for his absence, Sirius sent many letters. Receiving said letters was Regulus’s favorite part of the day. He hoarded them like treasures. Learned about an entire new world filled with new friends and possibilities.

He reread all of their misadventures and, in boyish innocence, inserted himself into the stories. Imagining the mischief they’d do together. As a child, it didn't matter that he would neither be in the same year nor in the same house. All that mattered was getting to share that life with Sirius.

It was through these letters that Regulus developed an embarrassing fascination over James Potter. Sirius wrote about him the most. James doesn’t ask for permission to go wherever he wants. James isn’t afraid of getting into trouble with the grownups. James lives life, completely, unapologetically, with everything he has. It became difficult for Regulus not to fixate on the other boy, who sounded too much like hope to be real.

In the monochromatic gloom of his house, if Sirius was a bright candle in the dark, then James Potter was sunlight. Regulus could always count on Sirius to be there in the blackest of nights, but he needed to wait until sunrise to ever catch a glimpse of James. And he did his waiting—twelve months of it—in Grimmauld.

For his eleventh birthday, Regulus received his own Black family ring. The ring was to be worn with pride. A symbol of status and reputation. It would match the one Sirius received for his eleventh birthday, another thing to share (in his moment of joy, he didn’t bother to ask Sirius why he wasn’t wearing his anymore).

Their trip to Ollivanders’ confirmed Regulus’s ten-year-old theory. He swished many wands until the right one shot sparks of glittering dust. Ollivander explained that Regulus’s wand was made of a dragon heartstring, from the same dragon’s heart that Sirius’s wand core was made of. Brother wands. 

He spent a lot of time practicing in the mirror the night before September 1st. Regulus had a small lisp in his youth. It took tutors, and his mother’s harsh hand, to train him out of the unbecoming speech. He curled his tongue carefully around Peter and Remus’ r’s. Regulus felt warm delight when he could pronounce James’s name with the elegance it deserved.

His parents valued reputation like it was currency. First impressions were gold. Regulus worked out an entire six-step plan to ensure he would be liked by Sirius’s friends:

1. Shake their hands firmly to show respect and equal status.
2. Subtly ask a question about chess and allow Peter to talk about his interest.
3. Buy too much sweet chocolate from the trolley and casually offer the rest to Remus, showing generosity.
4. Sit next to James.
5. Ask James about his summer and ask about his favorite color, his favorite food, did he like to read, did he play an instrument, did he like astronomy, how do you live without shame, how are you so brave Quidditch.
6. Make a joke at Sirius’s expense, and they will all laugh. This is probably where the friendship starts.

Boarding the Hogwarts Express was a dream come true. He followed diligently behind Sirius, who practically raced toward the compartment. He recognized each of his brother’s friends from the lone group picture Sirius had shown him when he returned home for the holidays. Regulus was a nervous mess, and had he been anyone else, it would have been obvious at first glance. But he was a Black, and the first lesson you were taught was to never show weakness.

At Sirius’s introductions, Regulus moved with all the etiquette training he could muster and shook each of their hands. Step one.

Peter’s pudgy hands had a weak grip, but they were soft and squishy like a muggle teddy bear. James shook his hand with a lot more enthusiasm, and Regulus would have allowed his arm to fall out if it meant getting to hold the other boy’s hand for a little longer. He turned to Remus to shake hands, and soon the next step would commence.

But this was the part where everything went wrong. Remus yanked his own hand away and frowned down at Regulus’s still outstretched palm, as if he’d been hurt by it. There was nothing on his hand except for his family rings. Remus’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and hot anger boiled inside Regulus. How dare he? Who was this boy to insult his family name?

Doubt wiggled its way into Regulus’s head. The plan had fallen apart, and Regulus questioned whether he actually knew anything about these strangers. So he asked about Remus, trying to find faults in his character. There were several: Remus Lupin was a half-blood with a muggle mother. He lived in the countryside of Wales. He suffered from a long-term, muggle condition; incurable. There was no nobility in the Lupin family line.

Regulus scorned these facts and pointed out their mediocrity so that Sirius could see how this so-called friend was trying to leech off of him. He needed Sirius to see it, to protect his brother the same way Sirius had protected him so many times before. James and Peter jumped to Remus’s defense, and Regulus was backed into a corner.

The bubble of a blissful child’s imagination popped violently, dousing him in bitter shame. It was evident that Regulus had been trying to write himself into a story that had already been written. These boys were not future friends; they were thieves. They wanted to take Sirius and ruin him. He should have listened to his mother when she ranted over the letters detailing Sirius’s troublesome behavior. Walburga warned her husband about the kind of man Sirius would turn into by being in a house full of lions.

He looked to Sirius for the protection he had always been given, and his brother would see his friends for what they truly were: bad influences. To his horror, Sirius didn’t come to his defense. Sirius scolded Regulus for his rude behavior and shooed him away to find Narcissa. It was a stinging betrayal. It felt a lot like heartbreak. It was the first of many instances where they learned to live without each other.

Regulus had thought that being here with Sirius would keep them close. Foolish boy. The strings tying their names together had been pulled too thin, too far, until something had to snap. Someone had to give in. Someone had to let go. It was inevitable, in Regulus’s fifteen-year-old mind, for Sirius to leave first.

Regulus could never escape his own misery. It followed him wherever he went. Sooner or later, misfortune would find him.

Chapter Text

The pitch was in chaos. Crouch yelled obscenities through the megaphone. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, halting the game. The players lowered their brooms until they landed on the ground. Professor McGonagall pushed through the crowd of teams to reach an unmoving Regulus.

Crouch had abandoned his post, so no one knew what was going on anymore. The audience chatted softly. Murmurs of shock and confusion. The marauders, who were paying close attention to the Slytherin seeker, had watched it all happen.

Regulus, as great of a player as he was, played violently in this match. Being a hindrance to the Ravenclaw team but just as brutal with his own team. James and Sirius had commented on the oddity. They knew Regulus was more of a graceful flier. But Remus recognized the thrill of a hunt. Regulus was starving for it.

After causing a bludger to hit Avery, Mulciber had had enough. The beater aimed his next hit straight at Regulus, who was inches away from catching the snitch. The bludger collided directly with the back of Regulus’s head, and they all watched as he plummeted to the ground. Only stopped by the magical safety charms of the pitch.

“That was a stupid move,” Peter commented as they stood on the Gryffindor stands, watching the forming crowd below.

“Regulus had it!” Marlene almost shouted in indignation. “Slytherin was going to win with the snitch caught. What the bloody hell was Mulciber thinking?”

“Petty revenge, maybe?” Mary replied, watching Lily hold Marlene back from jumping over the stands and defending a fellow seeker’s honor.

“Sirius, do you want us to go down with you to check on your brother?” Remus asked, nervously glancing at the Slytherin team arguing amongst themselves as Madam Hooch lifted an unconscious Regulus onto a levitating stretcher.

There was no response. Sirius and James were unnaturally quiet. When they all turned to look at them, they were greeted by empty seats instead.

“Look!” Marlene pointed somewhere down the pitch.

Two new figures marched through. Remus could recognize the dark, wavy locks of a reckless Sirius and the tense shoulders of a furious James. They all watched as Sirius reached the group of Slytherins and proceeded to slam his fist into Mulciber’s face.

Remus and Peter bolted out of the stands and ran their way into the pitch where a scuffle had broken out. 

Caradoc and Edgecombe were straining to hold Sirius back as Talkalot checked over a thoroughly beaten Mulciber. Bones was holding James back from giving his own beating, while Avery was pulled away from retaliating against the Gryffindors. Greengrass was blocking a yelling Dorcas from jumping into the fight.

Before anything else could get out of hand, a sharp whistle pierced the air. Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall rushed to the fighting students. “What is going on here?” An angry McGonagall asked.

“He punched Matthew!” Avery pointed at a fuming Sirius.

Sirius moved forward again as Caradoc gripped his arms tighter to halt his movements. “He bludgered my brother!”

“He had it coming,” Mulciber spat, lifting himself up to wipe away the blood leaking out of his broken nose. He hissed at the split of his busted lip, and the skin around his right eye began to darken in color.

“Fuck you, Mulciber!” Dorcas yelled over Greengrass’s shoulder.

“Quiet! Ten points off of Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

The group bit back their shouts of outrage, but their anger still painted their faces. Eyes glaring at each other. Lips dropping in displeasure. Professor McGonagall pointed at Mulciber and Sirius, and said, “Both of you come with me. Madam Hooch, this match is over. I want everyone back inside the castle.”

Once Sirius and Mulciber trailed after an impatient McGonagall, Remus and Peter each grabbed one of James’s arms and dragged him out of the pitch before he could get himself into more trouble. The rest of the students began to leave, so Lily, Marlene, and Mary caught up to them.

“What were you thinking?” Lily scolded. “Mulciber was already in trouble. You didn’t need to add yourself into that mess.”

Remus and Peter continued to drag James back into the castle. James wasn’t at risk of flying off the handle anymore, but they knew he needed something to ground him from his anger. He needed time to cool down. To think things through. When it really came down to it, James could be just as impulsive as Sirius.

“Detention isn’t a harsh enough punishment,” James grumbled as they all walked through the corridors, green paint still smudged along his cheeks. “He needed to hurt just as much as Regulus did.”

“Trust me, James.” Marlene placed her hands on James’s shoulders. “Baby Black has no problem getting avenged.”

Before James could argue, loud footsteps echoed in the corridor. Lovegood ran through, yelling like a police car siren and waving Regulus’s cane around threateningly. Crouch and Rosier trailed after her with equal shouts of vengeance.

Marlene gestured at their retreating backs. “See.”

They returned to the Gryffindor common room, where they anxiously waited for Sirius. The hours seemed to drag by until the girls decided to call it a day. The marauders soon relocated back to their dorm. 

Peter kept setting up and putting away his chessboard. James tossed around the stolen snitch. Remus pretended to read. All things they did in an attempt to keep themselves busy as they continued to wait.

It was late at night when Sirius finally returned. They watched him walk through the door quietly. He headed straight for Remus’s bed. Peter and James sat on their own beds.

Once he was tucked against Remus’s side, Sirius took a deep breath. “My brother will be the death of me.”

“What happened?” Remus asked, rubbing gentle circles down Sirius’s back.

“After Minnie gave me a week’s detention, I went to the hospital wing. He was unconscious for hours. I was sort of glad Poppy fixed Mulciber’s face fast enough so I wouldn’t have to see his ugly mug in the same room as Regulus. The Slytherin team was there too; they gave him lots of shit for it too. Dorcas was downright murderous.”

James let go of the snitch, and the yellow sphere zipped around the room. After tonight’s game, it was sort of sad watching it fly without a seeker to catch it. Without Regulus holding it in victory like he should have done. “How is he?” James carefully asked.

Sirius sighed. “He has a concussion, and Poppy wants to keep him in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend to make sure there’s no lasting damage.” Sirius’s eyes turned sad. “Poppy gave him a quick examination. She said he’d lost some weight. He hasn’t been eating well recently. It’s been making him tired and irritable. I hope it’s not from stress, or…” 

From Regulus’s earlier desire to die, Remus could hear the unspoken end of that sentence. He wrapped his arms around Sirius, and they both held on for comfort. Though Remus knew the real reason for the younger boy’s destructive habit. He wanted to push away the wolf’s ravenous appetite. Regulus was desperate to regain some control over the werewolf.

Unfortunately, Remus knew it didn’t work that way. It would never work that way.

The marauders skipped out on another Hogsmeade. Sirius was too worried to leave his brother alone for too long, and they stayed with him for support. Sirius spent most of his morning visiting Regulus in the hospital wing. There was a somber cloud hanging over all of them. When one of the marauders was in a bad mood, it seemed to spread over everyone else.

Marlene had told them that she heard from Dorcas about how Mulciber was getting hell in the Slytherin common room for costing them the game. With his earlier spirits restored, Sirius spent a good chunk of his time not in Regulus’s company writing down a list of pranks to use on Mulciber.

It wasn’t until Sunday night that Remus slipped out of the portrait door, nearly colliding with an approaching James. “You have rounds with Lily today?” he asked.

Remus nodded and pointed at the fake prefect badge on his robes. The real badge was made of silver, and, knowing how silver and Remus never mixed well, James had transfigured a fake one for him.

What James didn’t know was that Remus had already done his rounds with Lily, but he needed the excuse. “I’ll be back soon. Please make sure Sirius doesn’t do anything crazy while I’m gone.”

James gave him a half-hearted salute before walking into the common room. Remus walked through the corridor and let his legs carry him to the hospital wing. He almost bumped into a grouchy Crouch on his way there.

“Is everything alright?” Madam Pomfrey asked when Remus entered the room.

Remus shook his head. “Do you mind if I talk to Regulus Black?”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a thoughtful look before pointing at the bed near the end of the room. “Mr. Black is right over there. Visiting hours are over at eleven. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

Remus walked toward the bed. Regulus sat up against his pillow with a thick book propped up on his knees. The book was bent at one of the corners as if it were smashed against a hard surface. When he reached the sullen-looking boy, Remus noticed the page opened to a picture of a little girl wearing a red hood being stalked by a menacing black wolf. The image promptly shut with the thump of a slammed book. Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales, the cover read.

“Tell my brother I’m fine.” Regulus rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t need to keep sending his friends to check on me.”

“Sirius didn’t send me,” Remus answered before lifting an eyebrow in confusion. “Who did he send to check on you?”

“Potter has been by a few times today. Barty shooed him away during his last visit.” Regulus folded his hands together on top of his book as if to hide the title Remus already saw. It brought attention to his thin fingers. Fingers that were completely absent of polished silver rings.

“I promise I’m not here because of Sirius. I’m here because of you.”

“Me? I don’t know what you could possibly want from me.”

“We need to talk about it.”

Regulus’s eyes narrowed before glancing around the room. “There’s nothing to talk about.” But there was so much to talk about, and the only person who could understand it better than Regulus did was Remus himself.

“What happened, Regulus?” Remus whispered. “You haven’t been eating well.”

“That’s none of your business,” Regulus said evasively.

“It doesn’t stop the hunger,” Remus said honestly. A kind of vulnerability he’d only ever shown to the marauders. It was nerve-wracking but necessary. “It won’t make you feel normal again.”

Regulus gripped tightly at his book. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Remus looked down at one of Regulus’s hands. A thin line of raised skin dotted the surface of the skin. Where Moony had bitten Shadow’s paw. “It doesn’t make the wolf go away. It only makes him angry.”

“It’s the new moon,” Regulus spat, like the universe had betrayed him again.

Remus closed his eyes, and the echo of Regulus’s rage soothed something inside him. Like Remus’s own anger was justified. The guilt never really goes away, but neither does the grief. “You don’t stop being a werewolf just because the moon isn’t there.” And that was the unbearable truth of it all.

It’s not just Moony prowling on the full moons. It’s Moony prowling in the back of his mind. Lurking in his heart. Sneaking into his magic. Every single part of his life had been consumed completely by the wolf. And now it would consume Regulus.

When Regulus looked up at Remus through his lashes, there was a heart-wrenching anguish pooling in those gray eyes. At that moment, his eyes appeared too much like Sirius. Too much like the little boy who suffered under the hands of his strict parents. Under the hand of a cruel fate. But if Remus looked deeper into the depths of Regulus’s eyes, maybe he could catch a glimpse of a restless black wolf.

Remus’s own eyes strayed to the other side of the bed, where Regulus’s black cane was propped up against the bedside table. He remembered from James’s summary of the medical records they had stolen that Regulus’s leg had been bitten. 

Remus’s own hand wandered over to rest on his right side, just above his hip. If he let himself close his eyes again, he could almost feel the red-hot pain of a vicious jaw. The terrible reminder of a curse permanently etched into his body. Sinking into his soul.

A bit hesitant to ask but desperately needing to know. “Who bit you?”

Regulus flinched. The memory of it hurts, Remus knew, for all he could remember about that night was the pain. Sharp teeth on soft skin. A dark room filled with moonlight. Two gleaming, icy blue eyes devouring him. Stealing what little there was of a four-year-old Remus Lupin.

Remus had mourned the life he could have lived. The child he could have been. If it weren’t for the wolf. It wasn’t acceptance; he could never accept the awful thing that happened to him—it was resignation. This was all he could be now. Remus didn’t know how to be anything else.

Regulus, on the other hand, had been a wizard far longer than he’d been a werewolf. He still thought he could fight it. Could somehow erase the wolf from his life. It breaks Remus just a little to know that he’d be the one to tell him the truth. This was all they could be now.

“I don’t know,” Regulus uttered quietly, an almost frightened whisper. Regulus was falling apart before his very eyes. No longer was Remus in the presence of a coolheaded, prideful Slytherin. The walls crumbled down in the same way Sirius’s did so long ago. 

Remus wondered—had he not rejected an eleven-year-old Regulus’s handshake, had he not been harmed by the silver rings, had he not been a werewolf—if they could have been friends. In another life. In another time. When a four-year-old Remus still had the world in his hands.

“I was…walking home from Diagon Alley,” Regulus continued, his voice soft and vulnerable. Bleeding out an exposed, still tender wound. “It was extremely late. The streets were empty. There was something in the park…something in the trees…”

Remus resisted the urge to reach out. Unsure if Regulus would accept any comfort from him. Even though it ached something inside of him. Something crying out in agony. The memories.

“The…creature…was big.”

Mum and Dad promised there were no monsters under his bed.

“It had gray fur…”

The dark shape of a beast creeped out toward the moonlight streaming into his window. A large canine with shaggy gray fur growled at him.

“...with pale blue eyes…”

Two icy blue eyes locked firmly on him when the beast jumped onto his bed with a thundering howl. He was frozen in fright when it bared its deadly, sharp fangs.

“—tried to run away, but it…bit down on my ankle—”

The scream it tore out of him when razor-sharp teeth sank down on the side of his torso was its own kind of hell. The pain even moreso. It never really goes away. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

“—when the Knight Bus showed up and it just…ran away…”

The tormented yells of his dad when his wand threw spell after spell at the beast in vengeance. Until it leaped out of the window and ran away into the night. Disappearing with the moon.

“...like it was nothing. Like it didn’t singlehandedly ruin my life.”

Mum and Dad promised there were no monsters under his bed. Because the only monster that remained now was Remus himself.

Regulus’s eyes went shiny. Refusing the tears to slip down. He’d been willing enough to be honest with Remus, but he wasn’t ready to shed every little piece of himself just yet. Instead, Regulus reopened the book back to the picture displaying the image of the big bad wolf.

Regulus breathed a heavy sigh. Tired. Defeated. “Alright, Lupin, I give in. I’ll listen to what the King of Hearts has to tell me.” He stared up at Remus expectantly. Mask of calm and composure back on his face. “Talk.”

“The King of Hearts?”

Regulus closed his book again with a huff. “Something that came up in Divination. Pay it no mind. We have other things to discuss.”

Remus nodded. “Can I ask why you haven’t tried talking with the Hogwarts staff? You know they’ve been helping to accommodate me.”

Regulus took a long pause before he asked, “Do your parents know about your curse?”

“Yes.” The guilt never really goes away…

“And do they still support you despite that knowledge?”

“Yes.”…but neither does their love.

“Then you’re already living the better life,” Regulus admitted in a bittersweet confession. “My parents will kill me the moment they find out what I am now. Hogwarts would be obligated to inform them if I came forward with this.”

Remus knew about the awful things that haunted Grimmauld Place. It left a ghost in Sirius, and now it was out to kill Regulus. Sirius’s earlier concerns rang true. They needed to get Regulus out of that house. “What will you do once summer comes?”

“I’ve made arrangements with a disowned uncle of mine. He’s agreed to take me in. I won’t be returning to my parents.”

That was a relief. “Does your uncle know?”

“No. I haven’t planned that far ahead, but I won’t be in immediate danger in his care.”

It still left an unanswered question. One Remus didn’t understand yet. “You know Sirius knows about me. You know he will have no problem with it. Why don’t you tell Sirius the truth? He can help you.” Just as the marauders had helped Remus.

Regulus looked away. “That’s why I can’t tell him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand,” Regulus scoffed. “You’re an only child.” 

Maybe he was, but Peter and James were the closest thing to brothers that Remus ever had. That had to count for something. “But he will understand—”

“Sirius can’t know,” Regulus spat sharply, as close to a growl as he could get on the new moon. The displeased scrunch of his nose let Remus know to drop the subject. “Swear you won’t tell him.”

Remus knew he wouldn’t get Regulus to see reason. Though Remus could understand it a little bit, for all the sensibility they both possessed, Sirius had a way of making a fool out of you. There was no common sense when it came to dealing with the reckless Gryffindor. 

“Alright, Regulus. I swear I won’t tell Sirius.” Whatever issues Regulus had about Sirius were his own, and Remus couldn’t begrudge him for them. Not anymore.

They continued to talk. Both describing their experiences. Venting their frustrations. There was a calm, liberating feeling about it for Remus. Although he knew the marauders would be willing to listen to his complaints, he also knew that they couldn’t truly understand.

They didn’t know the true pain of a transformation. They didn’t know how overwhelming the scents and smells could be. They didn’t know how being bound to the moon felt like a prison sentence. They didn’t know how the paranoia of being found out left them exhausted. They didn’t know how, sometimes, Remus couldn’t tell when a stray thought was his or the wolf’s. They didn’t know how, sometimes, Remus didn’t feel like Remus, even when he was.

But Regulus did. He knew all of this. As horrible as it sounded—for he would never want to wish this on anyone—he was glad to finally have someone who could make Remus feel normal. Or as normal as being a werewolf could be. They were now in this together. No more. No less.

***

On Monday morning, Sirius informed them that Regulus had been released from the hospital wing. The Slytherin boy needed to eat more, and Pomfrey decided to continue giving Regulus the potion treatments he’d been taking for the ‘wampus cat attack’.

In Potions, the last class of the day, Sirius and James endlessly glared at Mulciber. The Slytherin switched seats with Snape to be as far away from them as possible. Snape sent them an equally hateful glower. Meanwhile, Slughorn had them study the basics of the new potion they would be learning to brew that week.

“Veritaserum, also known as truth potion, is designed to unveil the innermost secrets of anyone,” Slughorn said, writing down a list of ingredients on the board. “A potion that could be used unethically in the wrong hands, thus, is strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts is allowed to brew the potion for educational purposes, but all batches produced will be shipped off to the ministry.”

Slughorn muttered a spell with a flick of his wand, and a bottle of clear liquid appeared on his table. “As you can see, the potion itself is an odorless, colorless liquid that’s nearly indistinguishable from water. Should something go wrong as you brew, it will cause the potion to fill with a foul green smoke.”

As they worked through the potion, the classroom filled with light chatter. James endlessly complained about Snape’s constant mumblings as the Slytherin scribbled inside his potion’s textbook.

“Diced, not sliced,” James repeated mockingly. “What does that even mean?”

“Ignore him, Prongs,” Remus answered, trying to keep some semblance of maturity here. In truth, Remus was irritated himself. Regulus had warned him that Snape was convinced there were werewolves living on Hogwarts grounds. Unfortunately for them, Snape was right.

After Potions, the marauders returned to their dorm, where Sirius began ranting about the rumors going around again.

“Howling,” Sirius practically yelled. “Can you believe that? Caradoc told me some students are convinced there are werewolves in Hogwarts because they heard howling.”

Remus could feel his stomach drop. He didn’t think the rumors would reach the Gryffindors so soon. He should have prepared for it the day Regulus warned him.

“But there are werewolves in Hogwarts,” Peter said unhelpfully.

“That’s not the point, Wormy. In all of Remus’s six years at Hogwarts, not once did anyone suspect werewolves.”

“I mean, Snivellus does…” James grumbled. Obviously, he was still annoyed at his arch nemesis.

Sirius waved off the Snape comment. Snape had always been a thorn in their side. “Again, not the point.”

“What is the point, Padfoot?” Peter asked, wanting Sirius to get on with it.

“Moony’s secret was perfectly safe for all these years, then another werewolf shows up and everyone’s immediately suspicious.”

Remus shook his head. Not liking where this conversation was going. “Don’t blame this on him.” Don’t blame this on Regulus.

“Yeah, Pads,” James cut in. “Remus said this mystery bloke is new. He probably doesn’t know how to keep it a secret yet.”

Remus was actually unsurprised at how well Regulus had been able to keep it a secret. The rest of the marauders are still none the wiser.

Sirius sighed in frustration. “Look, I like Shadow, he’s a fun creature to be around sometimes. But my main priority right now is keeping Moony safe. The other werewolf is making a mess of things.”

In any other situation, Remus’s heart would soar at Sirius’s passionate desire to protect him. Now that he knew the truth, it sounded wrong to hear Sirius say this.

“If we knew who the other bloke was, then maybe we could convince him to share the shack with Moony.” James aimed a pointed look at Remus.

Remus shook his head again. He promised he wouldn’t tell. “You already know how I feel about that. Listen, they’re just rumors, remember? We just need to keep it that way.”

“What if we can’t?” Sirius kept arguing.

Peter chewed on his lower lip, worry creasing on his forehead. “Yes, what if we can’t? Then what do we do?”

“I say, if we can’t stop anyone from finding out, then we make sure they know there’s only one werewolf. We blame it on Shadow.” Sirius nodded at himself, like he’d made the right decision.

Stop, Remus wanted to shout, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t mean that.

The marauders knew Sirius had a bit of a mean streak. A cruelty learned from a dark house. When things turned threatening, Sirius defaulted on the harshest punishment he could think of. They were habits he was still learning how to kill.

James often had to reel him back in when he started to fall in too deep. “That’s not going to happen, Pads. We’ll make sure no one finds out, okay?”

Sirius grumbled a reluctant agreement. He would let this go for now. Remus hoped it would stay that way.

Once dinner arrived, Sirius went off to collect his brother. He’d told them about the deal he made with Regulus. The Slytherin boy was to sit at the Gryffindor table with them for dinner for the next two weeks in exchange for Sirius signing permission to let Regulus stay for Easter break. Sirius also warned the table not to ask any questions about the ongoing mystery of Regulus and his winter break injuries.

Peter was nervous about having Regulus around. “We’ve played enough pranks on their common room for them to want some kind of revenge,” he mumbled.

“Regulus isn’t out to get you, Wormtail.” James laughed.

“Easy for you to say,” Peter said. “His harsh attitude never bothers you.”

“I don’t know.” James propped his head on his hand, leaning forward on the table. “I kind of like it when he’s mean.”

Peter gawked at him. “You’ve gone mental, Prongs.”

“Prongs?”

James sat up with a jolt at the sound of Regulus’s voice. His glasses almost hid the flush on his cheeks had Remus not been looking straight at him. “Reggie!”

“Don’t.” Regulus rolled his eyes. “I’ll never understand your strange nicknames. Why prongs?”

Sirius let out an unabashed bark of laughter. He motioned for Regulus to sit on the empty spot next to James. (The spot James made sure was specifically reserved for the Slytherin). And continued to cackle all the way to the other side of the table, where he sat next to Remus.

“Yeah, Prongs,” Sirius smirked. “Why do we call you that?”

This time, James couldn’t hide his flush at Sirius’s teasing tone and Regulus’s scrutinizing gaze. “It’s uh…an inside joke.”

“Of course it is,” Regulus said dryly. He positioned his cane to rest in the space between him and James.

It wasn’t unusual for students from other houses to sit at a different table than their own. The Bones siblings did it quite often. But considering the scandal regarding Sirius’s disownment at the start of the school year, many eyes watched the odd green tie that sat at the Gryffindor table.

“Oh, it’s Baby Black!” Marlene said loudly when she caught sight of Regulus.

Regulus glowered at her. “I’m beginning to have my doubts.”

“You can’t back out now, Reggie.” Sirius laughed again, true happiness bursting through like a Patronus Charm. “A deal’s a deal.” It was obvious how delighted Sirius was to have his brother here. They were well on their way to mending their relationship. Making up for lost time.

The table was filled with dishes of lamb chops, steamed rice, turkey sandwiches, and roasted carrots. They all began to fill their plates with food. Remus scooped up a few carrots before an uneasy urge to check on their new addition was too strong to ignore. That itch of possessiveness continued to linger. Moony’s claim on the castle still stood.

Looking across the table, Remus knew Moony was rather pleased to note that Regulus remained unmoving. Waiting until Remus was done taking his pick of the food. Shadow respected Moony’s claim and authority. Only when Remus’s plate was filled did Regulus reach over to select his own food.

When Regulus finished, they both turned to look at each other. Remus arched an eyebrow, awaiting Regulus’s next move. Regulus held his stare for a moment before he lowered his eyes and tipped his head down. Giving Moony the right to eat first.

Satisfied, Remus hummed in approval and picked up his turkey sandwich. Once Remus took his first bite, he nodded over at Regulus, who reached for his utensils to begin eating. Remus couldn’t help but track every morsel of food Regulus ate. It didn’t seem like enough. It still felt like Regulus was starving himself. The thought didn’t sit well with him. It annoyed Moony more.

Regulus’s plate was only filled with rice and carrots. So while Marlene roped Regulus into a deep discussion regarding Quidditch (James was over the moon trying to share his input), Remus added pieces of lamb chops from his own plate toward Regulus’s. Nobody noticed. Sirius was busy telling Mary all the new things he learned in Muggle Studies. Lily quizzed Peter on their Potions assignment to help him memorize the material.

When Regulus looked down at his plate again, he paused. Eyeing the meat like he wanted to make it disappear. But with one glance at Remus, who pointedly nodded at the new pieces of food, did Regulus know he needed to eat it. It would’ve been poorly received if Shadow rejected an offered meal from Moony.

“Alright, Regulus,” Lily said from Remus’s other side. “Are you going to the Slug Club Easter party?”

“I suppose,” Regulus answered, stabbing a fork into the fourth piece of lamb Remus had slipped onto his plate. “You have been in the Slug Club since your fifth year, correct? What was last year's party like?”

“Nothing as extravagant as the Christmas party. Fancy enough for dress robes, but not obnoxiously so. We’re still encouraged to bring a date though.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow at Sirius. “How come I’ve never seen you as Lupin’s date? Has your boyfriend realized how uncouth you are at dinner events?” Seeker reflexes ducked quickly at the flung piece of soggy carrot.

Sirius crossed his arms. “Unlike you tossers, I don’t need to kiss Slughorn’s feet to succeed in life. I refuse to go to his parties, and I refuse to be in his club.”

Remus turned to address Regulus. “Lily and I go together for those events. It’s easier to go with a friend. I thought you saw us at the Christmas party.”

“I was rather occupied evading the advances of Hufflepuff’s chaser to notice. Barty dared me to bring an actual date. Won’t be making that mistake again.”

“Which one?” James leaned closer to Regulus and gave the boy his full attention.

“Pardon?” Regulus frowned at James’s proximity. They both stared at each other quite intensely. If Remus were anyone else, he’d assume there was a tense rivalry brewing between them. But Remus wasn’t anyone else, and he saw the way James had focused entirely on Regulus during that one Hogsmeade visit they spent together. With eyes that weren’t at all brotherly.

“There are three Hufflepuff chasers: Macmillan, Mitton, and Hoffman. Which one was your date?”

Regulus searched James’s eyes as if he were confused as to why it mattered which one it was. “Hoffman.”

“I didn’t think he’d be your type.” James frowned thoughtfully.

“He’s not, but he agreed to go with me on short notice.” Regulus’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I’d preferred to have taken Edgar.”

“Edgar? Edgar Bones? Amelia’s twin brother? The Hufflepuff captain?”

Lily groaned. “We get it, James. You know everyone on the Hufflepuff team.”

“It sounds to me like you have the hots for Hufflepuffs,” Mary teased.

Marlene hummed. “More like Quidditch players, from what Dorcas told me once.”

Regulus’s cheeks went a brighter shade of red, and he aimed a murderous glare at Marlene. “Whatever she told you is nothing but lies.”

Sirius slammed a hand on the table. “Oh, great Godric, you do!” He let out another stream of laughter.

“Shut up!”

The brothers continued to bicker, and just for a moment, all seemed right in the world.

They spent the rest of that week, since Regulus joined them for dinner, trying to navigate through their instincts. The half-moon was at its peak, and Remus could feel Moony creeping closer than ever. It was confusing — this newfound dynamic they built between them. Regulus wouldn’t eat until Remus took the first bite. Remus kept adding pieces of his portions to Regulus’s plate. With the slightest shift of their bodies, they somehow understood each other from across the table.

Even during breakfast, when Regulus sat at the Slytherin table with his friends, Remus kept a careful eye on him. Tracking down everything he ate. Ensuring the younger boy was well-fed. Sirius was just as attentive and seemed to appreciate Remus’s diligent care for his brother. What he didn’t know was that Moony was just as concerned as Sirius.

Ever since they reached a sort of understanding in the hospital wing, Moony had decided to integrate Shadow into his pack. He’d accepted the lone wolf. Remus didn’t know how Regulus felt about that. They’ve tried to keep their conversations to a minimum, both equally paranoid with the circulating rumors still going around.

Another day at dinner, Regulus’s cane thumped over to the Gryffindor table. He placed a potion bottle down.

“Why haven’t you taken your potion treatment yet?” Sirius asked with accusing eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. I skipped out on lunch today to finish a Charms essay. I can’t take the potion on an empty stomach, so I’ll take it after dinner. Will that suffice with you?” Regulus shot a look of annoyance at his brother.

“As long as you take it sometime today.”

They filled their bowls with food. Remus and Regulus continued their usual dinner routine. They had beef stew and vegetables today.

“Oi, Regulus,” James called with a broad grin. Regulus scowled at the grin. Remus could see James was pleased by his scowl. “There’s going to be a party this Sunday in the Gryffindor common room for my birthday.”

Regulus stirred his bowl idly with an air of indifference that Remus had learned was entirely practiced. “And? Do you need my permission to enjoy yourself?”

“Bloody hell, Reg.” James laughed like Regulus had just told a joke. “I’m inviting you!”

“I’ll think about it.”

“He’ll be there,” Sirius said.

Regulus glared at him. “Don’t speak for me.”

“Will you be inviting Cattermole too?” Marlene asked, nudging Mary, who glared with rosy cheeks.

“As if you’re not hoping Dorcas will come,” Mary muttered, nudging Marlene back with more force. Marlene pushed Mary in retaliation. Unfortunately, Mary’s elbow collided with Regulus’s goblet, spilling his pumpkin juice. Lily hurriedly wiped the spill clean with a charm.

“Sorry about that, Regulus,” Marlene said with a sheepish smile. Regulus hummed patiently, though he looked like his tolerance for Gryffindors was depleting.

“Here, Reggie,” Sirius lifted up his own goblet, “you can have some of mine.”

“No.” Regulus wrinkled his nose at Sirius’s goblet. “You like that cranberry stuff, which is frankly, disgusting.”

Before Sirius could bark at him in defense of his juice, Remus pushed his goblet toward Regulus. Regulus looked between Remus and the offered drink. Remus nodded once, and Regulus accepted the goblet. Taking one large gulp of orange juice. The table continued their conversations as Remus scooped some potatoes onto his spoon before the idle chatter abruptly stopped.

“What do you want?” Sirius snapped. Looking up, Remus met the suspicious eyes of Severus Snape.

Snape didn’t give Sirius a response. Instead, he turned his attention to Lily. “You haven’t heard the rumors about howling at night, have you?”

Regulus looked back at Remus, limbs locked and frozen in place. Regulus didn’t so much as twitch at Remus’s slight flinch. The rest of the marauders tensed.

Lily’s brows furrowed. “Maybe I have. I don’t know why that matters.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of what could be making those noises. Dangerous creatures lurking on Hogwarts grounds.”

Marlene snorted. “Don’t tell me you believe in that werewolf stuff.”

Snape’s eyes lit up at the question before looking directly at Remus when he asked, “Do you know anything about werewolves?”

Remus didn’t know what game Snape was playing at, but he wasn’t getting anything out of Remus. “Hmm, we had that chapter on it back in third year. I don’t know much about them now to give you an exact answer.” Snape suddenly frowned in confusion. “Though I’m sure they’re just rumors.”

Snape didn’t say anything else and promptly walked back to the Slytherin table.

“Good riddance,” James muttered. Regulus appeared to subtly breathe a sigh of relief. Remus echoed the sentiment.

“That was…weird,” Peter said.

Marlene leaned over the table to watch everyone. “What’s up with that? Is he going around asking everyone,” she looked directly at Regulus, “do you know anything about werewolves?”

“Yes,” Regulus automatically answered. He said it with a casual tone of honesty. Remus stared at Regulus, who blinked in confusion.

“You do?” James asked with a worried pinch of his brows.

“Yes.” Again, Regulus frowned at the honesty in his voice. Remus frowned with him.

Marlene leaned closer, giving Regulus her full attention. “That’s funny. Why didn’t you answer Snape’s question then? Maybe he’ll stop going around being weird.”

Regulus bit down on his lower lip. Deep confusion on his face. He gripped the utensil in his hand tightly until his knuckles went white. Regulus inhaled a panicked-sounding breath, and words rushed out of his mouth: “Because I don’t want him to know that I’m a we—”

A clatter of dishes drowned out the rest of Regulus’s sentence when Remus made the plates on the table collide with each other with a swish of his wand. They all turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“You okay, Moony?” Sirius asked, placing a gentle hand on Remus’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I thought I saw a roach,” Remus lied. The girls looked around in disgust. The marauders eyed him skeptically. No one noticed the look of fear on Regulus’s face before he quickly slipped back into his mask of composure. What was wrong with him? Why would he say that?

After checking that there weren’t any roaches, Mary turned back to Regulus. “I didn’t think you were someone who would be interested in magical creatures. But why learn about werewolves?”

Regulus looked down at the half-eaten steak on his plate, sounding almost choked up when he said, “Because I have to know what will happen when I transfo—”

“Take your O.W.L.s this year,” Remus quickly and loudly spoke over Regulus. “I know it’s a stressful time for the fifth-years, but I’m sure that’s a topic you don’t have to study for.”

Sirius’s eyes swirled between Regulus and Remus in confusion, but Lily, used to the marauders’ usual odd behavior, breezed through the interruptions. “Oh, right, Regulus is a fifth-year. I don’t envy you. It was a terrible time. Had me stressed the entire year. If you need any help studying, let me know.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. I appreciate the offer, Evans.” Regulus shoulders dropped slightly. Relieved. Remus wondered what happened earlier. Why did Regulus almost reveal he was a werewolf?

From the corner of his eye, Remus saw Snape still watching them from the Slytherin table. There was an empty potion bottle next to his plate. Remus immediately looked over at the goblet he’d given to Regulus.

James chuckled. “I forgot you’re here because you want to study all Easter break. Is home not a good enough place to do that?” 

James said it to tease, they all knew that, but Regulus’s eyes widened. He struggled to keep his mouth shut. “No, I can’t go back home anymore. Bad things will happen if I do.”

The table went quiet. Shock and worry hung in the air between them. Regulus’s answer was too honest and too real to be taken as an exaggeration. Sirius stared down at his brother and stood abruptly, knocking down Remus’s goblet and Regulus’s potion treatment. The spilled liquids mixed on the table until a foul green color began to smoke.

Lily squinted at the mess. “Is that…Veritaserum?”

Regulus clapped a hand over his mouth, grabbed his cane, and rushed out of the Great Hall. They saw Regulus’s friends clamor out of the Slytherin table to run after him. 

Remus placed a firm hand on Sirius’s shoulder to hold him in place, and he shot James a look full of warning. If either of them tried to talk to Regulus in this vulnerable state, then all of the Slytherin’s secrets would come pouring out. Remus couldn’t let that happen, not until Regulus was ready. No more. No less.

Chapter Text

Regulus ran. His brother ran away. Sirius couldn’t call it cowardly anymore; he’d done the same before. When they both stood outside of Grimmauld Place, Regulus by the front door and Sirius on the sidewalk, and they watched each other like tearing fabric stretched out too thin. The remains of something that continued to desperately hold on. Neither had said a word.

When Sirius raised his wand, summoning the Knight Bus, neither said a word. When Sirius loaded his trunk onto the bus, neither said a word. When Sirius climbed the steps of the bus, neither said a word. And when Sirius sat by the window of his seat, gazing out at his brother one last time, neither said goodbye.

Neither said goodbye. It wouldn’t be the last time they would see each other. Sirius held on to that. It was a relief. It was a comfort. It was the string that kept him tied to his brother. The only one that didn’t scorch under Walburga’s burning rage. A rage that Sirius was loathed to have inherited.

Sirius was fire. The spark of a deep fury that had blazed within Walburga first. Screaming at each other for everything that went to ashes in their anger. Sirius was a lion, roaring against the cages of expectations. Walburga was a snake, fangs glistening venom with the promise of a lethal strike. They burned and burned until the affection turned cold. Walburga didn’t know how to be his mother. Sirius didn’t know how to be her son. Hadn’t been her son for a while now.

Regulus was water. The rush of coldness that had frozen within Orion first. Keeping silent under the weight of the pools that drowned them. Never turning against the tides. Flowing with the currents. It hurt when Regulus began to slip through Sirius’s fingers. An intangible thing that Sirius didn’t know how to hold. Water flowed only where it wanted to go. Wherever the moon decided to take it.

Where was the moon taking Regulus now?

“Moony,” Sirius whispered in a hushed plea. As if Remus could channel the moon and ask it what it had done to his brother. Ask it what it had seen from the sky glowing down against a dark house. Inside a dark room. With a dark boy who didn’t quite know how to let the light in just yet.

“No, Sirius.” Remus settled a firm hand on the back of Sirius’s neck as if to keep him in place. To keep him from chasing after Regulus.

Sirius tried to breathe through it, just as he had when he was small and young and knew how to still hold his brother. When Regulus had broken Great Aunt Cassiopeia’s mirror after throwing the quaffle too hard, he was due to receive punishment. Regulus, smaller and younger and still knowing how to be held by Sirius, quivered as he entered their father’s study. Their mother’s nails dug into Sirius’s shoulders, holding firm as they watched the door close behind Regulus.

James looked equally agitated. Staying in place through the sheer force of Remus’s sharp disapproval.

Their group was still suspended in the silence of uncomfortable truths. As if anyone uttered a single word about it, then the entire Great Hall would explode. But it has to. Someone had to speak first. As always, Lily was a girl far braver than most.

“Peter, can you pass me the vial and Regulus’s goblet for me?” Lily gestured at the spilled items on the table. Peter scooped up both requests before handing them to Lily. 

Lily grabbed her own goblet and dribbled a bit of her soda into the vial. The vial changed color, but nothing else happened. She poured soda into Regulus’s goblet, and the same foul green smoke drifted into the air. The girls gasped at the sight of it.

“Someone laced Regulus’s goblet with Veritaserum?” Peter asked in shock.

Sirius took a sharp breath, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms as he clenched them tightly. “Not Regulus’s,” he gritted out through the clench of his teeth. “Remus.”

James stood up suddenly, hands slamming on the table, to gaze over the heads of the other students. Pinpointing the suspect. Lily pulled him back down.

“Stop,” she hissed at him. “All of the sixth years brewed Veritaserum, so any of them could have done it. I can talk to Professor Slughorn to check if any of the assignment bottles are missing. Whoever stole it didn’t turn in the potion. That’s who our culprit will be. Don’t start picking fights before you have any proof.” She jabbed a finger at James’s chest in warning.

“By the time all that happens, the bloody bastard will think he’s gotten away with it,” Sirius grumbled. He tried hard not to let Walburga’s flames burn through his words.

Remus’s hand released Sirius’s neck, gliding down his back to rub comforting circles against his tense body. Sirius’s shoulders relaxed slightly at Remus’s touch. Grounding him back down from his quickening fury.

“Listen to Lily,” Remus murmured, more to Sirius than to James. He leaned against him, resting his cheek on Sirius’s head. Perhaps thinking he could soothe the ire of Sirius’s very soul. He wished Remus could, because Sirius always hoped he could soothe Remus’s own inner torment.

After an uncomfortable dinner, they all returned to the Gryffindor common room. It was only until they were in the privacy and safety of their dormitory that Sirius let loose.

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” He repeatedly kicked the leg of his bed frame. Sirius couldn’t help it.

His cousin Andy used to call him a firework. A muggle device designed to explode bright colors in the sky. Sirius was like that. With a constant need to move and do something, or else he might explode in the stillness. He didn’t do well in the silence or in the passivity of life. It was by watching Sirius fly off the broomhandle that Regulus learned to wait things out. Learned to stay still.

What happens when you stay still? They catch you. Sirius needed to move, or else he’d get caught and sent back to the cage. Back to everything wrong with the House of Black. Back to the house Regulus was stuck in. In the house Regulus didn’t want to go back to.

He was angry at their ancestry for making them this way, and he was angry at Regulus for going along with it. For all his sharp cunningness, Regulus was a soft idiot. Didn’t know how to fight for the things he wanted. Sirius roared and raged for the both of them until he couldn’t anymore. He did his best to take care of his brother, but he was tired of fighting for someone who would continue to stay under their parents’ control. Because, at the end of it all, who took care of Sirius? Nobody but himself.

Everything was different now.

Sirius grabbed Remus’s sweater. Fisting his hands in the fabric like he could keep Remus here, away from everything that hurt him. “He was after you, Moony!”

Peter collapsed on his bed as if preparing himself for Sirius’s explosion. “Who?”

Sirius kept his hands on Remus while he craned his head to look at James. Gray eyes met brown ones. Sirius saw the same conclusion reflected in James’s own. Remus had been in great danger, and Regulus had paid the price. James must have known how close Sirius was to losing his head over this when he answered for him.

“Snape,” James spat, anger coating the name like a curse. Sirius’s own anger felt vindicated. He wasn’t crazy for feeling this all-consuming hatred and need for vengeance. Snape had to go, one way or another.

Peter’s eyes widened, finally piecing together the awful thing that could have happened to Remus. Peter was a bit slow when it came to figuring these things out. “No wonder he was being weird when he came over to our table. Shit, he suspects Remus is a werewolf.”   

Sirius and James usually kept a watchful eye on the Slytherin. Waiting to see how Snape would retaliate after a well-deserved prank for being a slimy git. They should have seen this coming, after those series of pranks they did to Mulciber. The arsehole was stuck in the hospital wing for the donkey ears that still sprouted out of his head.

When Sirius turned to catch Remus’s reaction, his hands froze. Remus didn’t look angry—he wasn’t even surprised—he just appeared very tired. The full moon was approaching quickly, and Remus should be wanting revenge. Should want Snape to feel the same torment that he did. It was evident that Remus wasn’t thinking about any of this.

“You knew?” Sirius whispered, already knowing the answer. Remus preferred to keep his head low. A creeping paranoia that followed wherever he went. The fear of being discovered kept him from reaching his true potential. Always needing to keep the wolf at bay.

Remus shrugged. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Just another thing to add to his pile of misery. “I only realized it after it happened, but Snape’s already been suspicious about me. I kind of expected something like this would happen after the howling rumors. It was only a matter of time.”

It was obvious that Remus wouldn’t get revenge on Snape because Snape had something he could use against him. Something that could ruin his life. It was a silence Sirius needed to fill. He would roar for Remus, just as he’d done for Regulus.

James thought the same thing when he said, “Remus, we can’t let him get away with—”

“No, James,” Remus said softly. Sirius could tell when Remus reached over to hold Sirius’s hands that he was trying very hard to be the voice of reason. “We’ll do what Lily said. We can’t afford to make the situation worse.”

And that was that. Sirius would let this go for now—for Moony—but he wouldn’t let it go for long. 

After everyone went to bed, Sirius was restless. Normally, Sirius would crawl into Remus’s bed on nights he struggled to sleep. Having Remus near and pressed against him usually hushed the loudness of his thoughts. But the full moon was a week away; Remus would begin to grow achy, and Sirius didn’t want to further upset him. 

Sirius stayed in his own bed, curtains closed, tossing the lunar globe around. He considered grabbing the record player he’d been tinkering with to finish what he’d been making. But that only made him think of Regulus. Instead, Sirius got out of bed to grab the map from James’s nightstand and opened it.

He set his gaze on the Slytherin dorms. Catching the names of Crouch and Rosier, sleeping awfully close to each other, but found no trace of Regulus’s name. Sirius’s heart began to pound rapidly as he searched the rest of the corridors and classroom in search of his brother’s name. He found Regulus near the Whomping Willow.

Sirius quickly ran out of the dormitory and out the portrait door, nearly startling the Fat Lady awake in his haste. Needing to be faster, Sirius shifted down into Padfoot. Running out through the courtyard and toward the Hogwarts grounds.

Sometimes it was easier to be Padfoot. The dog Grim wasn’t weighed down by difficult thoughts and feelings. It was simple to only rely on his instincts. On his nature. To protect everything he cared about.

When he reached the clearing of the large tree, a lone figure sat on the dewy grass. Arms wrapped around the legs that pressed against his chest. A head of curls resting on his knees.

Regulus wasn’t sending himself to the Whomping Willow like Sirius had feared. He hadn’t known what to think when he watched Regulus walk into the shore of the Black Lake. It was a haunting thought. To think that in mere minutes, Sirius could have lost his brother.

Padfoot pawed at the grass. Panting from his run. The figure lifted his head and turned to look at Padfoot with deep gray eyes that almost gleamed silver. The faint scent of a deep wilderness surrounded the boy. He smelled like mint and black tea. He smelled like a piece of home.

Littermates, Padfoot shook his head. Brothers. He watched Regulus tense for a second, carefully watching Padfoot right back. The moment held still until Regulus let out a deep sigh.

“Did you come back to finish the job?” Regulus’s hand touched his cheek, fingers grazing the scars carved on his skin.

Scars Padfoot was used to seeing on Moony. They were signs of a deep wound. A deep hurt. Padfoot could never find such scars ugly. They were proof of survival. Despite everything else that had tried to kill them, the people he loved were still alive. 

Padfoot whined. What had deeply pained his brother? Regulus always appeared arrogant and calm. Self-assured in his way of life. Somewhere along the road of growing up, they grew apart. Sirius was now desperate to bridge that gap.

He wanted to understand what was happening now. Wanted to know all the changes Regulus was going through. To get to know his brother again. To keep him in his life this time. To keep him safe.

Because the Regulus that stood before him carried a new kind of misery. A misery that made him consider something as awful as death. Padfoot shook his fur, trying to rid himself of an unpleasant shiver that traveled across his spine.

Padfoot didn’t have any answers. Regulus wouldn’t give them to him. Regulus used to beg Sirius to solve all his problems when they were children. Now he guarded them like dragons hoarded treasure. Unwilling to share his troubles. Padfoot didn’t know how to help.

All he knew was that there was a little bright boy out in a big dark world. Shivering in the cold air of an empty night. A boy with so much to live for. A boy who deserved so much better than he’d been given. A boy who needed to be loved by Padfoot.

So Padfoot lay on his stomach and carefully crawled forward until his snout touched Regulus’s thigh. Regulus didn’t back away. Padfoot inched a bit closer until his head rested against Regulus’s stomach. He whined. Didn’t know any other way to give this boy his love in a way Regulus would receive with open arms.

A soft hand ran down the back of his neck, fingers digging into the drifting fur. The branches of the Whomping Willow danced in the breeze. Regulus stopped shivering.

“You and I aren’t that different, are we?” Regulus continued to pet Padfoot, speaking out loud the things he kept buried. The things Sirius wasn’t allowed to hear. “We’re both bad omens. We take disaster with us. Hurt other people.”

Padfoot continued to whine. It ached to hear Regulus talk about himself that way. A younger, angrier Sirius would have agreed. Regulus had hurt Sirius before. When Regulus was ungrateful for all the things Sirius had tried to fight for. For all the things he had tried to give Regulus.

It was different now. They were different. Growing up did that to you. Growing up meant needing to change. Had they changed for the better or for the worse?

“You can’t help your nature. Perhaps, I can’t help mine either.” Regulus’s hand stopped stroking. “I almost said things I shouldn’t have today. I’ve become too comfortable here. I mustn’t forget the world is against me.”

Padfoot held back a growl, not wanting to frighten Regulus. Someone did this to his brother. Someone caused him pain. The memory of a green smoking potion angered him. It was meant for Remus, but Regulus got caught in the fallout. How much more misfortune could they take? Sirius wished to ease their hurt. To get back at the world in their name.

They stayed there in the quiet solitude of the night. Keeping each other company in cold comfort. It wasn’t until the light of the half-moon peeked over the castle that Regulus grabbed his cane to haul himself back up.

He stroked Padfoot’s head one last time before striding away. Heading toward the castle like a dead man walking. Almost resigned to a terrible fate. Regulus truly believed his life was in shambles. He didn’t feel safe at home, and he didn’t feel safe at Hogwarts.

Padfoot watched until the silhouette of his brother disappeared. He turned his head to gaze at the rustling branches of the Whomping Willow. It was a tree that led them to the Shrieking Shack. That allowed Padfoot to take care of Moony. A sanctuary for a werewolf.

Sirius had one of those when he ran away. The Potter home took him in like a son. He knew how to be their son. It wasn’t the violent, explosive kind of affection that he’d been so used to in Grimmauld. For the first time in a long time, Sirius felt like someone was finally taking care of him.

He hadn’t thought to take Regulus with him when he left. Thinking Regulus preferred it that way. Preferred to stay. Sirius should have dragged him out kicking and screaming. But when he had stomped his way into his room, vision red and hands shaking with fury, shoving items into his trunk, it meant having little forethought for what he was taking. It meant things got left behind.

What happened to Regulus in his absence? The moon wouldn’t tell him.

***

James’s birthday party was more of a riot than Remus’s had been. James was insane enough to convince Mary to purchase a muggle disco ball. It hung on the ceiling with a sticking charm, spinning around in thousands of glittering lights, painting every surface it reached in silver dots. Sirius loved it. Loved James’s unattainable spark for life and the need to have a very good time. It matched Sirius’s desire for adventure. For this indescribable passion for life.

Good old James decided to invite all of the Quidditch teams to the party. Even the younger players. Mulciber and Avery had the right sense to stay away from Gryffindor Tower. Sirius saw Edgar Bones attempting to snatch the cup of firewhiskey from his younger brother’s hand. Probably to scold him for drinking underaged. A terrible ache fell over Sirius at the sight of them.

Sirius’s eyes traveled all over the room. Trying to find any trace of dark curls and a sarcastic mouth. He found the wispy waves of Lovegood dancing with Dorcas under the disco ball. Crouch and Rosier were by the snack table, pointing at different people and then talking to each other like gossipy, judgmental aunts. It wasn’t until he caught sight of an occupied corner that he saw his brother.

Regulus, dressed in fine black garments, leaned against the wall with his cane diligently at his side. Silver lights danced across his body as he tilted his head over to another figure that stood next to him. Sirius squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the other’s face.

The bloke was still wearing his blue uniform tie. Perhaps someone from the Ravenclaw team. They appeared to be in a deep discussion, Regulus’s hand waving around in that little habit he’d picked up whenever he talked about something that deeply interested him.

Sirius debated going over there when they both leaned in closer together, perhaps to hear each other better over the noise of the music. It wasn’t until a third figure showed up that Sirius stopped himself. James handed—practically shoved—a red cup into Regulus’s hand and nudged himself in between the pair. Forcing the bloke to back up and letting Sirius take a good look at his face. Dirk Cresswell, Ravencalw’s seeker, looked wary at the intrusion.

Part of Sirius was relieved. He was still out of touch with this growing version of his brother and didn’t know how he was supposed to handle the idea of Regulus dating. Was he supposed to evaluate every potential lover? Allow Regulus to talk about his crushes? Give him advice? It was a stage in their brotherhood that Sirius hadn’t crossed with Regulus before.

Watching James essentially shoo away Cresswell pleased him. Sirius could always count on James to ease his troubles. It was nice to know that James was looking out for Regulus. 

An arm snaked around Sirius’s waist, and he heard the rumble of Remus’s low chuckle. Sirius involuntarily shivered at the lips grazing his ear. “I forgot how increasingly obvious James gets about this,” Remus said.

“About what?”

Remus looked at him with something knowing and amused in his eyes before he shook his head. Dismissing the conversation. Sirius would have grumbled about Remus not telling him what he was going on about, but his eyes caught something by one of the couches.

Marlene had smuggled in what Sirius recognized as the karaoke machine from their Muggle Studies class. He brought the new ABBA cassette Lily had gifted him for his birthday. They had all been far too somber for a party. Sirius decided they all needed to focus on having fun. It was always a good way to distract himself from the real problems, if only for a minute.

Sirius pulled himself away from Remus’s hold. “I’ll be right back, Moony.”

Sirius pushed through the crowd of dancers to reach Peter and Marlene. “I need you to help me with something,” he told them. Eventually, Peter brought in another table, and Marlene set up the karaoke machine with Lily’s help. They cut off the music, and everyone stood around in confusion.

Sirius climbed onto the table and grabbed the talking-stick—er, the microphone. “Listen up, everyone. This is a special song I want to dedicate to my best mate.” Sirius pointed straight at James, who still leaned in the hidden corner with Regulus. “James, this one’s for you!”

The muggle speakers blasted the first notes of the song. With a mischievous smile, Sirius opened his mouth to sing:

“You can dance, you can jive. Having the time of your life…!”

He watched James’s face light up with recognition. James soon pushed through the crowd until he reached Sirius. Climbing up on the table with him. Laughter pouring out of James lips. James leaned over until they were both sharing the microphone to sing.

“You are the Dancing Queen. Young and sweet, only seventeen…”

Sirius’s eyes scanned the cheering crowd for Remus. He found him at the far back, near the wall. Sirius intended to wink at him playfully, but Remus wasn’t looking at them. Remus was talking with Regulus, who began to look irritated. Before Sirius could wonder what they were talking about, James looped an arm around his shoulders, and they both continued to sing.

Soon after their amazing duet, Marlene climbed onto the table and pushed Sirius off. “It’s my turn to sing with the birthday boy,” she announced. Sirius laughed, feeling much lighter. James and Marlene danced on the table, and Sirius walked through the dancers to reach the back. Remus was still there, taking a long gulp from his cup. Regulus was missing.

“Where’s Regulus?” Sirius asked him. Remus swallowed and lowered his cup with something cautious in his movements.

“He went outside,” Remus said carefully. “He’s fine. Said he needed a moment.”

Sirius immediately spun away toward the portrait door. Muttering a quick compliment to the Fat Lady, who blushed on his way out. He walked down the corridor until he reached the staircase. Sitting on the first step was Regulus. Sirius walked over and sat down next to him. Neither said a word.

But there was so much Sirius wanted to say. So much he wanted to ask. Being unknowingly laced with Veritaserum was awful, but he was curious about the truths Regulus was trying to hide. What suddenly made Grimmauld a dangerous place for Regulus when it used to be a place he thrived in? Regulus wanted to stay. Wanted to be like the rest of the Blacks. Hadn’t he?

Reluctantly, Sirius remembered what Dorcas had told him right after the winter holidays. Don’t ask, she warned, confronting him now will go very bad, very fast. So he wouldn’t ask. Sirius would let this go for now, but he wouldn’t let it go for long.

Regulus continued to stare somewhere down the steps of the staircases when he asked, “How did you know I was out here?”

“Remus told me you stepped out of the common room.”

Regulus’s lips smiled humorlessly. “Of course, he did.”

“What were you two talking about?” Part of Sirius wondered too much about how Remus and Regulus could fit together in his life. Remus was the love of his life, and Regulus was his brother. Both were very dear and important to him. 

He just couldn’t figure out what they thought of each other. He’d caught them a few times behaving oddly with each other. Sometimes it seemed like Remus was assessing his brother. Sometimes it seemed like Regulus was wary of Remus. Both silently challenging each other. For what? Sirius hadn’t figured that out yet.

“He merely offered to…tutor me for my O.W.L. exams. I insisted I didn’t need his help.”

Sirius let out a chuckle at the haughty expression on Regulus’s face. Like an overgrown child, believing he was all grown up. He couldn’t help but tease him for it. Sirius snaked an arm around Regulus’s shoulder and brought him close enough to coo at his brother. “Because no one can be as smart or as grand as little Reggie?”

Regulus pushed against Sirius’s shoulder, finally looking at him with that all-too-familiar annoyance Regulus always had. “Obviously.”

“Be nice to Remus, you spoiled brat.” Sirius reached up to bury his fingers through Regulus’s hair and shake them around. Messing up his irritating, perfectly kept hairstyle. Regulus practically screeched at him for it.

“Let go of me.” Regulus pushed Sirius’s face away, creating some distance between them. “Go back inside and snog your boyfriend.”

Sirius laughed. “Aww, are you feeling jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have no interest in someone like Lupin.”

“Right. I recall you prefer Quidditch blokes,” Sirius smirked.

He watched Regulus’s cheeks flush pink. “I do not!”

“Come on, Reggie. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Sirius had fun teasing, but he also wanted to let Regulus open up about these things with him. “Though I can’t say much about your tastes, we can’t all manage to catch a handsome boy.” Because that was who Remus was to Sirius. A breathtaking view.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You sound just as delusional as Pandora. She insists someone fancies me due to an absurd Divination assignment. As if that would ever happen.”

All humor drained out of Sirius. “Why not?”

“You may find scars charming, Sirius,” Regulus said impassively. “But not everyone agrees.”

Sirius clenched his hands. The thought of anyone looking at Remus and seeing someone ugly boiled him in anger. Every inch of Remus was beautiful. There was no part of Remus that Sirius couldn’t love. It was outrageous that Regulus would think of himself that way. Where did that arrogant boy go? Unless, Regulus wasn’t as arrogant as Sirius had first assumed? Did his brother actually see himself as someone unappealing?

“Don’t worry about everyone else,” Sirius said, something he had told Remus once in the quiet of their dorm room. “The right person won’t mind, and that’s the only person that should matter.”

Regulus remained quiet for a moment before snorting unattractively. Sirius felt relieved. Regulus always tried to present himself a certain way in public. Trying hard to be a model student and an upstanding wizard. It was reassuring to know that Regulus felt comfortable enough around Sirius to drop his finer manners. “How wise of you, dear brother.”

“Piss off.” Sirius nudged him. “You know I’m right.”

Regulus gave him a reluctant smile. It was crooked, and soft, and real. If only Regulus could be this way more often. If only Sirius knew how to keep this moment forever. But life went on, and the moment slipped through his fingers the way Regulus did. The mask of calm and composure was back on his face.

“Regulus!”

They both turned around to watch Pandora skip toward them. “Oh,” she said when she caught sight of Sirius. “Did I interrupt anything?”

Regulus picked up his cane and lifted himself back up. Facing Pandora and turning his back to Sirius. “No, we were just about done here.”

“Oh, good,” Pandora said, walking over to Regulus and looping their arms together. Either completely dismissing Sirius or no longer caring that he was there. “Evan’s picking a fight with someone from the Hufflepuff team, and Barty’s been no help. I want to dance and—”

Pandora kept talking as she led Regulus back toward the Fat Lady’s portrait. Sirius stayed sitting on the staircase steps, watching them walk away. At one point, Regulus turned to give Sirius a nod of his head before being dragged back into the Gryffindor common room.

Sirius chuckled to himself. Feeling ridiculous. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard to bond with Regulus. They spent half their lives with each other. He didn’t want to spend the other half constantly second-guessing himself. Always trying to figure out what was the right thing to do.

He sighed. Lifted himself up to go rejoin the party when the greasy head of a slimy snake climbed up the staircase. They both glared at each other. Snape raised his chin as if Sirius was beneath him. It filled Sirius with rage.

How dare he? How dare Snape hurt his loved ones and stand there like he owned the place? For a moment, Sirius was back in the halls of Grimmauld Place, staring up defiantly at a scornful Walburga. The venom of their superiority striking on their face. Sirius wanted to see them poisoned by their own lethal dose. It’s what they deserved for all the misery they inflicted.

Remus didn’t deserve to have his deepest secret exposed. It would have ruined him to admit his lycanthropy out in public like that. Regulus got caught in between all that. Almost bared his own soul. Regulus wouldn’t handle a scandal like that. His brother was a good liar, and he didn’t know how to deal with the truth.

Snape was playing a dangerous game. 

“I know it was you,” Sirius said, clenching his hands into fists. Stopping himself from hexing that smug look off of Snape’s face.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The truth potion.”

Snape’s eyes widened for a second before feigning disinterest. “What truth potion?”

“The truth potion you sneaked into Remus’s goblet.” Snape didn’t know that Regulus drank it. He thought Remus was forced to say the truth. Sirius was going to keep it that way. “I hope you got what you wanted because, as you could see, Remus doesn’t know anything about werewolves.”

“I don’t believe that,” Snape said, squinting suspiciously at him. “I’ve seen all the signs. Lupin’s monthly absences. The trips to the Whomping Willow.”

Sirius let out a cruel laugh. “The Whomping Willow? Who in their right mind would go to the Willow?”

Besides, it wasn’t Remus who Snape was after. The rumors about the midnight howling weren’t caused by Moony. It was Shadow. Some unknown boy, who was going to get himself caught. Moony wasn’t going to go down with him. Not if Sirius could help it.

“If you’re so worried about a werewolf prowling around Hogwarts, then you’re looking in the wrong place.” Sirius held back a smirk at the look of curiosity on Snape’s ugly face. “There’s something hidden at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just up north of the Whomping Willow.”

“How would you know something like that?” Snape’s eyes gleamed expectantly. He wanted to know. He wanted to hold something against Sirius. Just as he’d been trying to do to Remus.

Sirius wouldn’t stand for it. He was all bark, but he was also all teeth. And Sirius will bite the hand that beats. Snape played a dangerous game by getting his brother involved. He couldn’t protect Regulus then. He could protect Regulus now.

Moony won’t take the fall for Snape’s schemes either, but Shadow will. Shadow was a creature Padfoot was fond of, but he was also a stranger. Sirius didn’t know who he was, but Moony was far more important than some mystery bloke. It was nothing against the younger werewolf, but more serious things were at stake. And when it came down to it, Sirius took care of his own.

“You’ve heard your fair share of rumors, and so have I.” Sirius shrugged, trying to make himself look like he was giving away trivial information. “They say there’s a beast chained to an ancient oak tree. Maybe it’s one of Hagrid’s creatures. Or maybe it’s a werewolf. We might go see it in the full moon. See if the rumors are true.”

Snape’s lips curled with displeasure. “A foolhardy decision.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“I have no time for your nonsense,” Snape said, continuing to climb up the staircase like the coward he was.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, feeling relieved. He’d just solved one of his biggest problems. Snape would hopefully go out to the ancient oak tree on the full moon, see Shadow, and become rightfully frightened. He’d stop trying to antagonize Remus and let go of this idiotic werewolf hunt. Plus, he’d get back at Snape for what he did to Regulus.

“Sirius.”

A smile overtook his face when he turned back toward the corridor. Remus stood right outside the portrait door. The loud blast of the music filled the empty space of the corridor. Some of the other portraits frowned disapprovingly.

“Moony,” Sirius said, and it was like a breath of fresh air. He made his way toward Remus and grabbed his hand.

Remus gave his fingers a light squeeze. “I saw Regulus come back inside. Why’re you still outside?”

“Just thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Remus teased, though he also seemed to be saying it out of true concern.

Sirius shook his head, feeling awfully pleased with himself. “Nah, I think it was the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Remus lifted a questioning eyebrow. It stretched out one of his facial scars. Sirius reached over to cup Remus’s cheek and stroked the line of the scar. Sirius did find Remus’s scars charming. Not because they were scars, but because they belonged to Remus. Maybe someday, Regulus would find someone who will look at him that way.

Sirius placed his fingers at the nape of Remus’s neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. Sirius laughed at Remus’s face when it looked torn between confusion and satisfaction. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Sirius promised. “Right now, we owe it to James to have a good time.” And they owed it to themselves too.

Sirius pulled Remus back toward the portrait door. They slipped inside to rejoin the party. The music echoed. The lights flashed. People were dancing and singing to their hearts’ content. It felt like all was well with the world.

Things were changing, but Sirius decided that it was for the better.

Chapter Text

Regulus didn’t bother to look up when he muttered a silencing spell on the new howler that was dropped on his plate by his mother’s scraggly old owl. She’d been sending howlers these past few days leading up to Easter break. Walburga was furious at his refusal to come home for the holidays. He was relieved that she only sent them in the mornings and not at dinner time. He wasn’t willing to breach that subject with Sirius quite yet.

Regulus tried not to let the howler bother him. He wasn’t used to receiving them. They had always been reserved for Sirius. For his brother’s pranks and detentions. For his less-than-perfect behavior. For not becoming the House of Black’s heir. For daring to be himself.

Regulus could never do that before, and he never would. The person he used to be was gone. Replaced by a horrible beast. If Regulus could have been himself, then he would have become it by now. Whoever that might have been.

Dorcas glanced at the red envelope, silently spitting at him in rage.

All of his friends had been keeping an eye on him as of late, ever since he unknowingly drank truth serum. Dorcas especially—already protective over Regulus since the bludger incident—began to smother him with her care and attention. And now that she was leaving for the Easter holidays, she was worried that some new tragedy was about to strike him.

He knew they meant well, but the constant vigilance itched at Regulus’s skin like an animal trapped in a cage. Always watched. Always locked. Never allowed to just be.

Even now, as Regulus reached for his drink, Barty snatched the goblet out of his hand and took a sip. “Ask me something, Evan,” Barty said, nudging Evan as the howler began to shred itself on the table.

Without looking away from the notes he was studying, Evan dully asked, “What color is my underwear?”

Barty smirked. “Pink!”

Evan lifted his head to give Regulus a deadpan look. “Enjoy your juice.”

Barty placed the goblet back down, letting Regulus drink it. Regulus took a long gulp, trying to stop himself from shouting at his friends like one of his mother’s howlers. As the full moon drew near, he began to feel restless again. Irritation was sinking under his skin and crawling up his head. Limbs were growing sore, and senses were increasing once more. Everything was overwhelming.

Evan pushed a plate of bacon towards Regulus, and Barty watched him like a hawk. After being in the hospital wing, Dorcas learned of Madam Pomfrey’s medical examination. Told the rest of their group about Regulus’s malnutrition. Everyone had been a lot more observant of his eating habits. Including Remus Lupin.

Regulus and Remus had formed an unspoken alliance. Regulus hated to admit that the other werewolf’s advice and guidance were exactly what he needed moving forward. It was also relieving to have someone who could understand what Regulus was going through. They’ve become close acquaintances, and perhaps even something like friends.

Remus certainly made his concern for Regulus’s health rather obvious. Practically forcing Regulus to eat every piece of food Remus placed on his plate. Regulus knew he couldn’t reject the offered food, and Remus had counted on that to make him eat more. It surprisingly didn’t bother Regulus as much as it should.

“Are you sure you’re going to be fine without us?” Dorcas asked, carefully watching Regulus eat.

Dorcas and Evan were their strongest duelists. They had enchanted the chains they used on Regulus to alert each of their wands if the werewolf ever managed to break out of them. If both Dorcas and Evan were going back home for the break, then who would stop Regulus from running wild?

Regulus was just about to snap at Dorcas about not needing to be treated like some troublesome child when a piece of bacon was immediately shoved into his mouth. He turned to glance at his side, where Pandora smiled innocently at him, so he leaned back and chewed on the food with a mild scowl.

Pandora faced Dorcas. “We can handle him,” she answered.

Pandora had sent a letter home informing her parents that she would be staying at Hogwarts to help Regulus through the full moon. She had first proposed letting Regulus stay at her house for his transformation, but the Lovegoods’ home wasn’t fit to handle a full werewolf, so he rejected the idea.

Barty decided to stay too. According to him, Mr. Crouch would be overworking at the Ministry anyway, and Mrs. Crouch would be visiting an aunt for Easter, whom Barty greatly disliked. He wouldn’t miss out on anything.

“Do you think Lupin was the one who started the rumors?” Barty narrowed his eyes across the Great Hall, probably hoping his glare would reach the Gryffindor table.

Regulus could feel an angry growl climbing its way up his throat. Lupin? Spreading rumors about werewolves? The idea was distastefully offensive. But he understood that his friends didn’t know about the beast that lived inside Remus, so he forced his displeasure down.

Evan’s eyes focused on Regulus’s clenched fist, noticing the shift in his mood. Evan indulged Barty’s theory so he could explain himself. “Why would it be Lupin?”

“When we were doing research at the library, Lupin caught us. Remember? I’m sure he saw the books we were reading. He could be smart enough to suspect what they were for.”

Dorcas snorted. “Remus isn’t the type to involve himself in useless gossip. Besides, that was months ago. We’d have heard of these rumors much earlier if it was him.”

Barty continued to glare at the Gryffindor table.

“I think Lupin is trustworthy,” Pandora said sincerely, tapping on the rim of her goblet with her utensils like a drummer.

He begrudgingly looked away.

“What’s this all about, Barty?” Pandora was always good at finding the things that were left unsaid. The things that lay underneath the façades and performances other people put on. She was the first person to see beneath Regulus’s mask. 

Barty had his own flair for the dramatics, but he was also clever and cautious. He didn’t form his theory out of the need to blame someone, but with a calculated sense that something bigger was at stake.

“I’d hate to prove Trelawney right,” Barty said, leaning closer into the table. “But you remember what we saw in Divination, Pandora. The Four of Clubs.”

Pandora’s eyes widened for a moment before worry began to creep along her brows. Regulus swallowed down a pitiful whine. He didn’t want to think about his ‘prophesied’ misfortune. His skin prickled with goosebumps, and he could feel an urgent tingling in his legs with the instinctual need to run away.

“The what?” Dorcas asked.

“Beware of deceit or betrayal from someone you trust,” Pandora recited quietly.

Regulus frowned, not liking the fact that she’d memorized it. It must have been something that continued to occupy her thoughts. He didn’t like having her worry about him. He didn’t like having any of them worry about him.

“You don’t honestly believe that?” Regulus said dully, trying to play it off as something of little importance. It didn’t matter that his fingers itched to claw at his skin and escape his stupid human body and its stupid human feelings.

“Yes, I do.” Pandora stopped tapping on the goblet and aimed her utensils at him in a silent challenge. “The first two cards came true. The order is following through.”

“Maybe they were wrong,” Regulus hissed quietly, not wanting to snap too harshly at her.

“The first two cards?” Dorcas asked.

Barty narrowed his eyes again. “The King of Hearts and Knave of Clubs.”

Regulus knew the King of Hearts referred to Remus. Someone who could offer him much-needed advice. But the Knave? Regulus felt relief at that. If the Knave was impossible to come true, then maybe the cards had been wrong.

Dorcas raised an eyebrow at them. “You know Evan and I don’t take Divination.”

“I’ve heard enough about it from Barty,” Evan muttered. “They read their fortunes or something.”

“The King of Hearts means someone who’ll give good advice, and that’s obviously Dorcas,” Barty launched into his explanation. Dorcas was a year above them, and they all kind of defaulted to her for guidance. Barty must have assumed Dorcas’s help counted enough to be the person from Regulus’s fortune.

“The Knave of Clubs means having an admirer.” He squinted suspiciously at Pandora. “Are you saying…you know who fancies Regulus?”

Regulus scoffed. They all turned to look at him expectantly. He glared at them. “As if that would happen.”

Each of their faces formed a look of genuine confusion.

“Regulus,” Dorcas said slowly, almost in disbelief. “Do you think that no one’s ever had a crush on you?”

“Of course.”

They continued to stare at him.

“No one has.”

“You’re joking, right?” Barty watched him with a heavy look in his eyes.

Pandora reached across the table to pat Evan’s hand sympathetically. “There, there, Evan. He was never going to catch on.”

Evan shrugged, nonplussed about it.

“What?” Regulus stared at them.

Barty wrapped an arm around Evan’s shoulders. “My poor rose never stood a chance against the harsh winter storm.”

Evan pointedly looked at Regulus.

“You aren’t possibly implying that you…” Regulus said, feeling his cheeks heating up. “Fancied me?”

“Back in second year,” Evan answered. “Don’t think too much about it. It was short-lived. And plenty of people had crushes on you.”

“I…don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m closed-off and mean and far too serious for anyone to actually like that.”

Barty flicked a piece of bacon at him. “Just because you like blokes full of life and energy doesn’t mean that other people can’t be into the silent brooding types.”

“Did you seriously never notice?” Dorcas asked, suddenly finding the whole thing amusing.

“No,” Regulus said, completely appalled. He was the spare. The second choice. Sirius was the one everyone looked at. Sirius was far more charming and pleasant than Regulus could ever be. He’d made peace with that. Embraced his lesser qualities and wrapped himself in a false layer of dignity and arrogance.

This revelation should have eased his troubles. The knowledge that he wasn’t entirely undesirable. Except that the news destroyed all hope against his terrible fate. If the Knave of Clubs came true, then what did that say about the rest of his misfortune? Did Regulus have to sit here and wait for the next terrible thing?

Foolish little boy, the thought haunted him, there’s no escaping misery. Not like Sirius. Never like Sirius.

***

Ever since the incident with the Veritaserum, Regulus and Remus would meet at the library after dinner under the guise of studying. Sirius encouraged Regulus to ask Remus to help tutor him for his O.W.L. exams. Regulus begrudgingly accepted. Except their meetings had little to do with any actual studying.

Since Remus made his friends promise not to bother them during their study sessions, they were free to discuss more discreet topics. Topics of moon cycles and cursed creatures.

Today, they decided to go to the back of the library at an empty table where they wouldn’t be bothered. Remus placed down their stack of books and parchment. Regulus waited until Remus sat down first before taking a seat himself.

After making sure they were completely alone, Remus turned his full attention on Regulus. “Which is the book you were talking about?” he asked.

“It was recently published…anonymously. So far, with my first-hand experience, everything described within it is accurate.” Regulus reached into the pile of books to grab Hairy Snout, Human Heart and handed it to Remus. “It’s not exactly a step-by-step manual, but it’s all I had to rely on.”

Remus flipped through the pages. Reading a few lines with interest.

“The author mentions dealing with certain behavioral phenomena that they don’t go into much detail about,” Regulus went on, “and I want to be prepared for anything that might happen to me. Tell me what knowledge I’m missing.”

Remus pulled his eyes away from whatever he’d been reading and closed the book. The scent of rich chocolate and cotton sweaters used to make Regulus’s skin crawl unpleasantly. Mostly because it was followed by the smell of wild rage. A scent that coated most corners of the castle. The territory of another wolf. Recently, Regulus found himself not minding it.

“There is something you need to know,” Remus said quietly. The older boy’s shoulders were tense, and Regulus’s were much the same. The ache in their muscles began to spread all over their bodies as the moon filled with more light. “It’s about the upcoming moon. It’s not like the other ones.”

Regulus clenched his fists, letting his nails dig into his palms, bracing himself for whatever new event his curse was about to throw at him. “Go on.”

“The full moon of April 4th will be a lunar eclipse. An eclipse tends to affect the wolf’s reaction to the moon.” Remus didn’t look worried by this announcement. “Luckily for us, a lunar eclipse decreases the moon’s influence. Our consciousness will be more present after the transformation, and you could even gain some memories of that night.”

Regulus looked down at the table, his brows furrowing as he processed the information. “Are you saying that we might be able to keep ourselves under control? Stop the wolf’s…primal instincts?”

Remus placed the book back on the table. He gave Regulus a patient look. The same face he’d made weeks ago when Regulus was confined to the hospital wing. When Remus told him the harsh truth about their lycanthropy. With or without the moon, they were still monsters.

“We can’t stop the wolf’s instincts, but we’ll be less…ferocious about them. Less likely to tear ourselves apart.”

Regulus instinctively rubbed at the scars along the back of his left hand, where he bit himself during his first transformation. Dorcas had the bright idea to coat his chains in lambs’ bone marrow to entice the werewolf to bite down on the hard metal instead of his own tender flesh. So far, it appeared to be working, as he hadn’t yet found another new scar on his body.

Remus watched Regulus’s hand, something anxious flicking in his brown eyes when they tracked the bumpy scars of the bite mark. Regulus wondered how many more scars Remus had collected over the years. How many more agonizing nights he had to endure. This month would be Regulus’s third transformation, and he already struggled to keep himself together.

“Not to worry,” Remus said softly, almost sounding apologetic. “Shadow won’t be as vicious. The first transformations aren’t too wild. The wolf is still developing its nature and understanding its surroundings. It’s the boredom that comes after that drives the wolf to its violent habits.”

“Pardon?” Regulus felt an itching sensation in the back of his mind. With a tempting need to howl. To answer some unspoken call. “Shadow?”

Remus flinched slightly and hunched over himself. “Uh, that’s what Si—I mean, I named the wolf.”

Regulus let those words sink in for a moment. “You…named me?”

Before Remus could answer, the scent of green tea and sweet lilies wafted into their little hidden corner. They both quickly rearranged their pile of books and parchment to appear occupied when a head of red hair peeked out from behind a bookshelf.

“There you are, Remus,” Evans greeted before turning to Regulus. “Hi, Regulus.”

Regulus gave her a short nod.

“It’s good that you’re both here,” she went on, “but I have bad news. Slughorn checked his potion stock, and none of the Veritaserum assignments are missing. Everyone is accounted for.”

Both Remus and Regulus tensed. Regulus bit his tongue to stop himself from snarling. They couldn’t incriminate Snape anymore without any proof. The sixth-year Slytherin probably brewed the potion outside of class. Regulus held back the urge to find him and sink his teeth into Snape’s neck until it snapped in half.

“Don’t tell Sirius or James.” Evans reached into her robe pocket to pull out a piece of paper. “I know Peter won’t fly off the handle at the news, but I don’t trust those two to not get into trouble. I compiled a list of ingredients to check who might have grabbed extra supplies to brew an additional potion.”

“Lily,” Remus finally spoke, though Regulus could see his own mouth twitch to keep himself from growling at Evans. “Maybe it's best if we leave things as they are.”

“Are you sure?” She replied. “Veritaserum, Remus, that’s some serious stuff.”

“I don’t want to make a bigger deal about it just yet. I’ll figure it out.”

Evans sighed, as if used to Remus’s passivity. “Please be careful. These pranks are getting out of hand.” She pocketed the paper again, nodded at the both of them, and strode away.

When they were both alone again, Regulus turned to bare his teeth at Remus. “Why wouldn’t you want Evans to find more evidence? Snape could be caught.”

Remus glared at the harsh tone. “It will only cause more problems. Snape’s been suspecting me since fourth year. If Snape explains his reasons for using truth serum on me, then the staff will simply deny any of his claims. We’ll be back at square one.”

It was the same argument they had at James’s birthday party. Remus had explained Evans’s reasoning to dealing with the incident with the truth serum. Regulus was all for it, but Remus disagreed. If they brought up Snape’s suspicions of werewolves, then it would make the rumors more plausible. The growing concern about werewolves being at Hogwarts would become an actual need for investigation.

Remus had rationalized the situation as a poorly executed prank from someone trying to get back at him and his friends. From time to time, it was known that certain students tried to outsmart the band of misfits with a counterprank of their own. Seldom ever succeeded. Until now, that is.

Regulus hated to prove anyone right. He didn’t want to yield to Remus’s logic, but he understood that the paranoia ran deep. Regulus couldn’t afford to attract any more unwanted attention. “Fine,” he relented, turning his head away to expose his neck.

Remus’s hard stare softened at the display of a peace offering. Regulus wouldn’t fight him on this any longer, but it was a moon-drunk decision.

A primal part of Regulus found himself disliking when he upset Remus. It was as if there was some invisible string pulling at him. Urging Regulus to maintain a good impression and stay out of trouble. Out of some instinctual fear that if he did anything to threaten Remus, then he wouldn’t be welcomed in the other wolf's territory anymore. It was an annoying feeling to have.

According to the book, werewolves often sought each other out. Drawn to fill the need for safety and a sense of belonging. To form a pack. The author described this instinct fondly, but there was a subtle tone of warning. Much like society, werewolf packs followed a hierarchy of their own. Newly formed werewolves had the misfortune of becoming victims to the superiority of older and stronger wolves. Regulus was loathed to admit he’d fallen into that dynamic with Remus.

The wolf inside Regulus acknowledged that Remus was far more experienced than he was. He respected Remus’s claim to the castle and the Shrieking Shack. He avoided his brother to avoid colliding with his brother’s boyfriend. Every action he had taken since returning to Hogwarts was made to steer clear of the much more powerful werewolf. It was a silent acceptance that Regulus was far more vulnerable than Remus.

The other boy remained unaware of Regulus’s discomfort as he rearranged the books back into a neat pile. Remus grabbed a book titled Death Omens–What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming, with the image of a large black dog with gleaming eyes on the front cover. “Death omens?” he carefully asked.

Regulus’s skin prickled. Restless energy buzzed along his feet to run and hide. He leaned back, attempting to create some distance between them. He didn’t want to reveal his growing curiosity over the Grim he’d encountered. Twice already, it had found him. Regulus clenched and unclenched his hands, and he remembered Barty’s earlier warnings.

If he confided in Remus over the strange encounters, would he somehow betray Regulus’s trust? He was confident that Remus wouldn’t out him as a werewolf because Regulus was capable of doing the same. It was possible that Remus would merely trade some of Regulus’s information to Sirius. Some of the personal problems that Regulus didn’t want to admit to his brother.

Perhaps he could take matters into his own hands. To decide who should deceive him. A self-fulfilling prophecy he could control.

“I suspect there’s a creature that lives in the Forbidden Forest,” Regulus said, watching Remus’s hand gently stroke the front cover of the book. “I’ve seen it twice.”

Remus’s eyes moved between the image of the black dog and Regulus. “You saw him twice?”

“The Grim, yes.” If Regulus counted the Grim Trelawney saw in his tea, then it would be three. Damned three times. Perhaps Professor Mystique's rule of thirds was incorrect. There wasn’t anything harmonious about coming across a death omen.

Remus’s brows pinched together. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a very large dog?”

“Of course not. I think I can tell the difference between an ordinary canine and a spectral creature.”

There was a slight pause, and then, “Are you…worried about him?”

“Him?”

“The Grim.” Remus frowned. “Magical creatures can be dangerous.”

“No,” Regulus answered honestly. “The Grim was rather tame. I would even say it seemed strangely fond of me. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Because it’s a wild animal?”

“Because it’s a death omen.” The Grim would not have been plaguing Regulus’s thoughts if it were simply a wild animal. No, it was merely a confirmation of what awaited him in the foreseeable future.

A sharp snarl had Regulus cowering slightly in his seat.

Remus watched him in disapproval. With his teeth bared and strong hands clamping down on Regulus’s shoulders, he practically snapped, “You’re not going to die!”

They both held still. Staring at each other. Remus’s eyes possessed a golden sheen. The smell of untamed rage was profound. Overwhelmed their noses so much that neither of them managed to catch the scent of the next figure that approached from behind one of the bookshelves.

“With our O.W.L. exams coming up, it does feel like we might just drop dead,” a soft voice said, drawing both of their attention to the person who’d snuck up on them.

Pandora stood nearby with a pile of books in her hands and a too-large grin stretched out on her cheeks.

Remus blinked, and the gold in his eyes disappeared. He quickly let go of Regulus and leaned away. Regulus sat up straight, feigning like he hadn’t been at the mercy of Remus’s discontentment.

“Are you having a study session?” Pandora asked in a light tone of voice, but her eyes sharply stared between them. Subtly giving Regulus the choice to either stay or leave.

“No, we’re quite finished here.” He grabbed his wand and uttered a levitation spell on his books before grabbing his cane and getting out of his seat.

When Regulus approached her, Pandora started to lead him away and excitedly chattered, “Good, then you can help me with Professor Flitwick’s essay on the difference between hexes and jinxes.”

Before they completely disappeared from Remus’s line of sight, Regulus turned to give him a final nod farewell. Hopefully making it clear that there was no ill will between them. Remus returned his nod.

After leaving the library, Pandora leaned in closer under the guise of helping Regulus walk to whisper, “Has he given you any good advice about the moon yet?”

Regulus almost tripped. “What?”

“Lupin,” she said casually. “Does he know anything else about the transformations?”

Regulus faced her, searching for that all-knowing stare. “You knew?”

Pandora nodded. “You’re good at hiding a lot of things, but I know you. I figured out what you discovered. That's why I wanted you to talk to him.”

He knew Pandora would keep Remus’s secret just as fiercely as she kept Regulus’s. She wasn’t a cruel or prejudiced person to do something like that. Regulus knew she was incapable of ever betraying him.

“Lupin’s been…helpful,” he answered begrudgingly.

“That’s good,” Pandora said happily, leading them down to the Slytherin dungeons. “You can count on each other, right?”

Following Pandora into the Slytherin common room, he heard a hint of hope in her voice. Perhaps, like him, she wanted to believe that Remus wasn’t the Four of Clubs.

Regulus didn’t think they were anything like a pack, but their lives have already been intertwined. Naturally drawn to each other. He had to admit that a part of him deeply relied on Remus’s guidance. And maybe he even grew to enjoy the other’s company.

For the first time since he’d been cursed, being a werewolf didn’t feel so lonely.

“Yeah, we can count on each other.”

***

Dorcas and Evan said their goodbyes in the dorm rooms that Sunday afternoon. Regulus had wanted to accompany them to the castle grounds, where the carriages were waiting for the departing students. Unfortunately, tomorrow was the full moon, and Regulus felt too sore to move.

“I left the pain-dulling potions with Barty,” Evan informed him, pretending to ignore the way Barty wrapped around him like a clingy giant squid.

“I’ve been practicing the apparition spell,” Dorcas said. “If anything happens, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll apparate straight away.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. That seemed rather excessive. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

“I was talking to Pandora.”

Pandora nodded, snapping a piece of the chocolate bar and handing it to Regulus. Remus told him that his habit of eating chocolate was more than just indulging in a favorite snack. The chocolate helped temper his mood. Regulus wasn’t a fan of sweet treats, so Pandora bought him dark chocolate.

They soon left the dormitory with a promise to write and send healing potions. Barty must have slipped him a sleeping potion before he left as Regulus suddenly grew tired and drowsy. It was the only thing that would help him sleep and not feel the terrible ache that wracked through his body.

The next day, with the moon soon looming over with the threat of night, Regulus tried hard to keep himself calm. To keep himself sane. Clinging to the remains of his humanity.

Easter break had officially started. Regulus wasn’t required to sit with Sirius at the Gryffindor table as per their agreement. Sirius had hinted earlier, on their last day of sharing dinner, that he hoped Regulus would keep coming by every once in a while. Like the Bones siblings did. The knowledge that his brother cherished his company warmed him up to the idea of sharing meals together again.

But not today. Even as he stared across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table, Regulus would have been too out of it to properly enjoy being around his brother. That, or Regulus and Remus would have fed off of their bad moods. Sirius didn’t need to unknowingly witness two werewolves snapping at each other.

It didn’t help that, as Barty sipped Regulus’s goblet again, some part of Regulus was feeling rather territorial. While his friends took care of him in preparation for his transformation, he couldn’t stop thinking that Remus’s friends were doing the same. Sirius was taking care of Remus. Because, of course, there was only enough space in Sirius’s life for one werewolf, and that wasn’t Regulus.

Pandora tried to encourage him to eat the pork chops even though she knew Regulus craved bloody raw meat. His teeth ached in his mouth. They were too flat. Not sharp enough. How will he hunt? How could he possibly catch his prey and make sure they stopped moving with a single vicious bite?

“—gulus, Regulus?”

He blinked and looked away from the cooked meat to stare up at Sirius. “Huh?”

Sirius squinted at him. “You okay? Did you take your potion treatment this morning?”

Regulus took a deep breath, trying to find comfort in Sirius’s minty smell but feeling agitated when he caught a whiff of Remus’s wild scent. He bit down on a growing growl and nodded slowly so as to not aggravate his headache. “I’m fine, just stayed up too late studying,” he managed to say.

“If you say so,” Sirius said in a tone that sounded suspicious, but he was willing to believe him. If Regulus looked behind Sirius, he could see James and Pettigrew helping a tired-looking Remus walk between the rows of tables to reach the doors.

When he looked back at his brother, he caught Sirius sending a quick glare further down the Slytherin table. Regulus followed the gaze to watch Snape give his own nasty scowl. Rage began to boil under his skin at the sight of Snape. There was a savage urge to break every bone in the other Slytherin’s body. Dangerous thoughts. Dangerous desires.

“You better not stay up studying tonight,” Sirius teased, though there was a hint of seriousness to his words.

“I’ll try not to,” Regulus gritted out through the pain.

Before Sirius could say anything else, Pettigrew passed by and called out for Sirius.

“I’ll see you around, Reggie.”

“...sure.”

With that, Sirius followed behind his friends, no doubt taking Remus to the hospital wing.

Pandora and Barty soon dragged Regulus out of the Great Hall and into his dorm room. The familiar scents of his room calmed him for a moment. Pandora, once again, stole raw beef from Hagrid’s food stock. Regulus devoured them with ravenous hunger. Blood dripping down his chin and fingers stained with meat juices. He was too far gone in his feral nature to care enough to be appalled at his behavior.

He didn’t put up much of a fight when Pandora took his wand for safekeeping. Barty summoned a locked box containing the enchanted chains. He quietly led Regulus out of the Slytherin common room and into a hidden passage within one of the empty dungeon chambers. It led them straight to the Hogwarts grounds.

Carefully passing by the Whomping Willow, Regulus caught the fading scent of grass and wilderness. The scent of another werewolf.

Unlike every other time they passed through the Willow, the scent of the other wolf didn’t make his spine tingle with nerves. It strangely made him want to howl. To call out to someone. Someone who wouldn’t make him feel all alone.

Barty kept him steady as Regulus all but limped towards the oak tree he had claimed as his. It was coated in Regulus’s scent but he caught faint traces of other animals. A wild squirrel. One of Hagrid’s hippogriffs. A rat. A deer. A…wolf?

Barty opened the box and uttered a spell to bind Regulus with the chains. He took his cane and watched Regulus anxiously. It calmed the raging ache inside Regulus, if only for a moment.

“Go.” He didn’t want Barty to watch him go through the agony of a transformation. Barty knew that too. Mrs. Lovegood warned them about bearing such a burden.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” Barty promised.

After Barty left, Regulus was alone with the forest and the night. With the pain and the moon. Through the branches of the trees, Remus had been right. The light streaming down was different. Instead of its white glow, a reddish hue illuminated the cloudless sky.

A lunar eclipse.

An unbearable, familiar haze sank into his brain. Heartbeat racing. Nerves catching on fire. Ears deaf to the screams that roared out of his throat. Pain pulsed all around his body. Underneath it. Inside his flesh and blood. The revolting sound of bones breaking. Of tearing skin apart. Thrashing in pain.

Panting. The sounds of heavy breathing. Deep exhaustion for a moment before the thick fog in his mind vanished.

There were memories in his head that didn’t—shouldn’t—belong to him. Shadow. His name was Shadow. Someone named him. A packmate? Did he have a pack?

The emptiness in his stomach rumbled. A hunger that didn’t feel as urgent. Shadow wanted to find prey and hunt it down. But some other thing inside him felt repulsed at the idea. To eat or to starve, why was it so hard to decide?

Shadow felt himself pulled in different directions. It was confusing. He pushed against the tight hold of the chains keeping him bound to this tree. His teeth grinded together with the desire to bite something. His jaws opened to reach the flesh of his paw, but he abruptly closed them shut. Shadow whined. Why was he fighting himself so much?

Taking another deep breath, he caught an unfamiliar scent. Something smokey, like burnt leaves. The crunching of grass and dirt echoed in the quiet of the night. Something was coming.

Out of the darkness of the trees, a small figure emerged. It was lanky and stood on two legs. A fleshy, flat face with dark fur falling out of its head. Wrapped in odd things. A human.

The human’s eyes went wide when it caught sight of him, and Shadow bared his teeth. Foreign memories evaded his mind again. There was rage. A deep, hurtful rage aimed at this human. Familiar in some way that Shadow couldn’t understand. The anger and hunger mixed together. It didn’t matter to him who the human was. It only needed to suffer.

Shadow pushed forward, rattling the chains. There was an instinctual need to chase this human. To catch it and bite down on its tender flesh. No! He shouldn’t do that. He should. No, he shouldn’t hurt other humans. But Shadow was so angry…he must!

Shadow continued to strain against the chains tying him against the hard bark of the tree. It angered him the longer he couldn’t move, and the human kept standing there watching him.

He couldn’t catch the human, but Moony was free. Moony was out somewhere in the forest. Moony would catch this human for him. Isn’t that what a pack did? Help each other.

Shadow lifted his snout towards the sky, where the red moonlight shone on them, and howled. Here, prey. Hunt. Come, hunt!

When Moony’s answering howl of I’m coming pierced through the silence, the human pulled out a tree branch. Pointed it at Shadow. He managed a vicious growl even when something urged him to be wary. To fear the branch held by the human.

“Baubillious,” the human uttered with the wind, a scatter of sounds that Shadow somehow understood as words, as language. Something spoken. Something with meaning.

The branch shot forth a white light that struck Shadow in quick succession. The spark hit his chest with a biting heat. Shadow howled in pain. Whimpered at the remaining sting of smoke.

The human moved the branch…the wand, an agitated part of his mind yelled. The wand swished with another strike when the thundering sound of hooves jumped out of the bushes, startling the human backwards. The next blast of white light missed Shadow completely. It pierced the chains, melting a good portion of the metal.

Shadow pitched forward without restraint, panting deep breaths from the pain sizzling along his fur.

A large stag stood between Shadow and the human. Prongs stomped his foot on the ground. I protect.

Shadow growled. I kill! He was hurt and angry. It was the human’s fault. Shadow needed to sink his claws and teeth into it. Make it suffer as he had.

He took a step forward, ignoring the limp in his hind leg. The human stumbled back, something like…fear?...forming on its flat face. He snapped his jaws in threat, planning to pounce on his chosen prey. Stop! Shadow’s ears were ringing with silent pleas. Stop? Why would he stop?

A series of squeaks made him pause.

Wormtail ran through the grass, settling himself behind the human. In the blink of an eye, the rat vanished, and another thicker human held its own branch…its own wand to point at the other human. “Confundo!”

The human in front of Prongs gave a slight sway of its body, shuddering at the impact of whatever the human behind it did. The dark-furred human blinked rapidly before the light-furred human kept its wand pointed and said another human word, “Stupefy.”

The dark-furred human instantly collapsed on the ground. Shadow moved to attack the vulnerable human, but Prongs swung his antlers at him. Threatening him from moving any closer.

The remaining human swished its wand, and the sleeping human on the ground was…flying? The human ran through the trees, dragging the other around in the air until both figures disappeared from the forest.

He growled at Prongs. Prey gone. He tried to run around the stag, but Prongs only stomped his hooves again in warning. Shadow snarled, Why stop?

Prongs didn’t answer. Simply stood his ground. Whenever Shadow tried to move too far from the tree that shackled him, Prongs would steer him back. He had the instinctual thought to eat the annoying stag, but Prongs had Moony’s scent. The scent of a pack. Shadow wasn’t allowed to harm Prongs.

Reluctantly relenting, Shadow laid down on the ground. Chest still sore but slowly healing. Prongs approached carefully. Snout sniffing the top of Shadow’s head. He growled at the stag. Prongs trotted away playfully, as if trying to ease Shadow’s earlier anger.

He ignored the prancing deer. Watching the moon move across the sky. Wondering where Moony was. Why didn’t the other wolf come? Were they not pack? Did they not help each other? Shadow was confused. A different kind of hunger grew within him. Wanting to fill the loneliness.

It wasn’t long before a terrible ache shook through his body. Something inside him wanted to sink underneath his skin. It was too big, too loud, and too much. His claws itched to rip out his furry ears. His teeth tingled to bite at his bushy tail. Things that weren’t part of his body. Things that didn’t belong to him.

The darkness of night disappeared with the golden glow on the horizon. Shadows’s howls of anguish sank back down into his hollow prison as human screams replaced their rough cries.

There was more than just soreness in his muscles, there was a pulsing, burning pain in his chest. Regulus gulped deep breaths of chilly morning air as sweat cooled around his shivering, naked body. He was surprised to still be conscious. The transformations would normally knock him out. He usually woke up already lying in bed, having been carried away by Barty and Evan.

Regulus tried to achingly feel around for the tree he was tied to, but his hands curled around rough dirt instead. Blinking drowsily at his surroundings, he found himself lying on the forest floor. He was a meter away from the oak tree, untied, with broken chains scattered around.

He took in a sharp, shaky breath. Did he break the chains? Regulus’s eyes stung with the light of dawn. A harsh white light emitted from a wand. A wand held by a very human figure. Regulus groaned at the pounding in his head. A rush of unclear images and thoughts thrashed against his mind.

His arm twitched in slight pain as he forced it to reach one of the broken chains. Regulus weakly gripped at the harsh, cold metal. The chains were supposed to keep him restrained. They were supposed to stop him from hurting anyone.

A memory stabbed at his brain. A prowling rage of hurt and hunger. Rage against a human. A human who wandered into the Forbidden Forest. Did someone find him? Did he…attack someone?

His stomach coiled unpleasantly. Something like bile was rising up in him. Regulus’s eyes searched around him, dreading to see red blood staining the floor. Or worse, a human-shaped corpse.

Instead, when he had the instinctual sense to look up, he met the dark eyes of a very large deer. Its equally large antlers were on full display. A stag stood a few feet away, but Regulus couldn’t help but feel…safe? Almost like the stag had been keeping watch over him. He blinked, trying not to shake his head at the ridiculous thought.

Regulus was sore and still in pain. Body tense from sensitivity and paranoia. Even as his mind throbbed with exhaustion, he wrestled against passing out. He had to figure out what happened. He had to know if—

A twig snapped in the distance, and the scent of dry ink and apple cider drew closer. The stag wheezed, and Regulus had half a mind to think it almost sounded sad. It immediately jumped towards the trees and disappeared deeper into the forest.

Out of the bushes, Barty emerged carrying a box and a blanket. Regulus blinked, and a dark-haired wizard stood in Barty’s place. Lifting his wand and uttering a spell that struck against Shadow. Against a werewolf that was seconds away from killing a person. A mournful cry slipped out of Regulus’s lips before he could stop it.

Barty’s eyes widened, and he rushed forward to help him. Regulus flinched back from his touch, afraid of infecting everyone he loved with his filth. He was poison. A dangerous beast.

A monster.

Chapter Text

Remus didn’t pass out as he usually did. The pain and discomfort were present, but he was still conscious. His vision blurred, and his mind felt fuzzy with the lingering traces of the lunar eclipse. He strained against the pounding of a headache.

He remained splayed on the cold, hard floor. Letting the waves of pain pass through him. Panting heavy breaths. Feeling sweat cool on his skin. It took him several moments before he could become aware of his surroundings.

Remus shifted from his place on the floor, trying to reorient himself. He felt the softness of a blanket. Smelled the scent of wilderness, honey, and spearmint. Heard the boisterous voices of his friends.

“—solutely brilliant, mate,” Sirius was saying, and a sharp laugh accompanied his joyful proclamation. “Please tell me you saw his sorry face when you did it.”

A shaky, nervous laugh followed. “Oh, no, I hit him from behind,” Peter replied. “But I bet James saw.”

“Where did you leave the slimeball?”

“Snuck him into the library and made it seem like he fell asleep studying too late.”

“Here’s to hoping he’ll think the whole thing was a nightmare. He got a bit of a fright, didn’t he?”

Remus blinked until his vision cleared and raised his head to catch sight of Sirius and Peter.

Sirius looked at ease with a large, crooked grin. Excitement burst out of his face. Held himself with the same pride he displayed when a prank went off exactly how he wanted it.

Peter looked uncomfortable. Hunched into his shoulders, his eyes moved everywhere at once. A wobbly, unsure smile was plastered on his lips. It was obvious that Peter was having issues voicing his true opinions on whatever Sirius was saying.

“Wish I could’ve helped,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “But James said to keep Moony in the Shack.”

Another pulse of pain spread through Remus’s head as memories resurfaced.

Moony had clawed at the door of the Shrieking Shack. Confused as to why his pack was missing. Moony resisted the urge to bite at himself. When the door finally opened, he bulldozed past Padfoot and reached the Whomping Willow.

Emerging from the tunnel, he found Prongs and Wormtail. The stag had been anxious, pacing around on thin legs. The rat was equally nervous, squeaking in distress. Only the smaller wolf was unconcerned. Barking at their worrying behavior.

A howl had pierced the night sky with a note of urgency. The call for a hunt. Moony answered it.

But when Moony moved in the direction of the howl, Prongs stopped him. The stag backed him inside the tree again. Padfoot kept him within the tunnel even as Moony growled and snarled to be set free. To run wild. To hunt down prey.

To help Shadow.

“Sirius.” Peter’s nervous voice interrupted the wolf’s memories. The boy ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, something happened between all that.”

Sirius eyed him with an easygoing smile. “What?”

Remus wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, not liking where the conversation was going. Neither of them had noticed he’d woken up yet. A strong smell of pine, spices, and faint traces of peppermint creeped up his nose.

Before Peter could muster an answer, the door to the Shrieking Shack opened. A blank-faced James wandered in. He was eerily silent. Staring down at the creaky floorboards.

“Prongs!” Sirius greeted him. He looped an arm around James’s shoulders but stumbled back as soon as James shoved him aside.

Sirius frowned. “What has you in such a bad mood today?”

“Why did you do that?” James asked in a hollow tone of voice.

“Do what?”

James looked up and finally showed the displeased furrow of his brows. “Tell Snape.”

Remus’s breath caught in his throat. Snape? A nervous feeling spread through him. James had his occasional outbursts of anger, especially towards Snape. But it was rarely directed at Sirius.

What happened? What happened with Snape?

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Sirius crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I did us all a favor.”

“By telling Snape? Tell us how that was a bloody brilliant idea!”

“That greasy-haired prick was trying to get to Remus. You haven’t forgotten about the truth potion, have you?”

Their shouting became louder, and Remus flinched at the pounding in his head. Their voices were pesky flies buzzing in his ears, but he strained to keep listening. He needed to know what happened while he was transformed.

“So what?” James grinded his teeth together. “This was all a prank to get back at him? You told him one of our biggest secrets for a prank?”

“I was protecting Remus.” Sirius stomped closer to James and roughly jabbed a finger at his chest. “Snape won't suspect Remus anymore. And now that he’s scared off, he won’t ever want to think about werewolves again.”

James slapped Sirius’s hand away. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t know what happened!”

Sirius scoffed. “Enlighten me, James. What happened?”

Peter raised his hands in a placating manner. “I think we should all calm do—”

“You sent Snape to the oak tree!” James shouted.

Remus’s heart began to beat rapidly. A sharp memory of howling echoed in his ears. Shadow calling for Moony. Calling for help.

“Yes, I did,” Sirius admitted coldly. “And I hope it scared the fucking pants off of him. He deserves it!”

The confession pierced right through Remus. He should have known. Sirius had warned them. Sirius was willing to throw Shadow under the bus. And he did, in the most awful way possible. By sending him fucking Snape.

A heavy ache settled in his heart at the thought that Sirius had done it for Remus. He betrayed his brother’s secret for Remus. Remus struggled to breathe through it.

“But it didn’t happen that way, Sirius,” Peter quickly cut in between the shouting match. “Snape aimed his wand at Shadow, and one of the spells missed.”

Sirius stared at Peter. “What?”

“He broke the werewolf’s chains. Shadow was going to attack Snape.”

Shadow was going to attack Snape. Regulus was going to attack Snape. Remus’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Bile rose up his throat at the thought. He swallowed it down bitterly.

Now James shoved a finger against Sirius’s chest, pushing him back with the force of it. “Do you still think he deserved that?”

Sirius’s brows pinched together with uncertainty before his eyes narrowed in anger. “What if he did? Snape should have stayed out of this. He should have just kept Reggie out of this!”

James’s own anger soon melted into anguish. He unclenched his fists, and the fight slipped out of him. “Sirius,” he said, his voice achingly quiet. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“What, Prongs? Just tell me what I did.”

James closed his eyes, turned his head away from Sirius, and took a deep breath through his nose. “You don’t understand. Shadow is Re—”

“Don’t!”

They all quickly turned to look at Remus. James’s eyes widened, and his mouth clamped shut.

Remus’s throat burned as he spoke again: “Don’t.”

Remus and James stared at each other. Eyes searching until Remus found that sad, knowing look hidden behind all that anger. Even James’s scent carried pieces of it.

James saw him. James saw Regulus transform back. He knew the terrible truth. But it wasn’t his truth to tell. Remus was still going to protect Regulus’s secret. It was the least he could do now that Regulus had already been exposed against his will. By his own brother.

Sirius took a step forward, and Remus couldn’t stop the sharp growl he threw his way. Sirius froze halfway. Arms extended toward him. A startled look formed on his face.

The wolf was confused. Padfoot was part of the pack. He was safety. He was happiness and comfort. Why would Moony be angry at Padfoot?

But Shadow had called for him. Shadow had called, and Padfoot kept him away. Something happened to Shadow, and Moony couldn’t protect him. He’d failed the younger wolf. And it was all Padfoot’s fault.

Remus decided to ignore Sirius before the irritation ate at him, and he settled his gaze back on James. James let his own eyes search Remus’s. There was no use hiding it anymore. James already knew, and now he would know that Remus did too.

Sirius looked between them. The marauders, unfortunately, had learned to read each other quite well. So neither of them could hide what they’d just admitted to each other.

Sirius inhaled sharply. “You saw.” He threw an accusing finger at James. “You saw Shadow turn back. Who was it? Tell me, James.”

“No,” Remus said quickly, cutting James off from answering. His arms and legs cried out at him for the effort it took to stand up. He saw Sirius’s hands twitch, as if stopping himself from reaching out. Knowing that right now Remus wouldn’t accept any help from him.

“No?”

“No, Sirius.” Remus glared at him, letting Moony’s lingering rage pour through. “You don’t get to — to send Snape at him and then demand who he is. Like you actually give a damn!” Because if he was willing to do this to his brother, then what was stopping him from doing it to Remus?

“Pardon?” Sirius placed a hand on his chest. “Are you mad at me? I was trying to protect you!”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Remus didn’t need Sirius’s protection. He wasn’t some defenseless little boy who needed rescuing. He was just an unlucky bloke trying to live his life in peace.

“You don’t have to! I’ll always want to take care of you.”

“This isn’t ‘taking care’ of me, Sirius.” Remus slouched into himself. The reality of what could have happened last night came crashing down on him. He gripped the blanket until his knuckles turned white. Wrapping it closer around him as if he could hide away from the pain. Hide away the creature prowling inside him. “You almost ruined someone’s life.”

“Listen to me,” Sirius said, almost pleading in his frustration. “Snape was only supposed to get scared and leave. How was I supposed to know he would be crazy enough to attack a werewolf?”

“You don’t get it. This isn’t about a stupid prank gone wrong. This is about,”—Remus looked away, not bearing to stare into familiar gray eyes—“This is about Shadow.”

Remus saw James wince with a pained expression on his face. How gruesome it must have been for him to watch the black werewolf become Regulus.

Peter appeared as confused as Sirius sounded when he asked, “What about Shadow?”

Remus turned back to look at Sirius. “You told Snape where to find Shadow without caring what it would do to him.”

“You want me to defend someone I don’t even know?”

“You don’t have to know him!”

“But you do!” Sirius threw his hands down sharply, gesturing at Remus. “You do know him, don’t you? You’ve known who he is this whole time. What? Is he your new best friend now?”

“Sirius…” James said in warning, trying not to blow up at him over the things Sirius didn’t know. The things Remus wouldn’t let him confess.

But Sirius wasn’t done. “What’s next?” He spat. “Are you going to invite him into the Shack? You don’t need us anymore?”

Remus went quiet. A cold, fury building under his skin. How could Sirius say that? Like his friends were replaceable. Like they meant so little to him. The marauders were everything. Moony will always need them.

But Padfoot wasn’t a wolf. He was a dog, cornered and threatened. That was when he was most dangerous. It brought out the ruthlessness within him. He’d bite most viciously. Sink his teeth into your hand and leave you to deal with the remains of a gentle touch gone callous.

And like the spectral hound that he was, Sirius had condemned his brother. Regulus’s concerns over bad omens were proving right. This stupid prank could be the death of him.

The younger Black was already in shambles. He already tried ending it once. Remus promised Regulus he wasn’t going to die. How could Remus keep him alive now? If he remembered last night’s events, thanks to the lunar eclipse, then Remus knew the guilt and self-hate that would fall on Regulus’s conscience.

Despite being a member of a noble pureblood family, Regulus had never shown disdain for other people’s oddities. Not at Lovegood’s strange quirks or at Caradoc’s thick accent. Not at Crouch’s melodramatic behavior or at Trelawney’s absurd claims. Not even at Remus’s lycanthropy.

Regulus couldn’t help being Sirius’s brother. Sirius couldn’t help being his mother’s son. Not everyone could escape the grasp of the hand that raised them.

Maybe it was in Sirius’s nature to be an all-devouring creature. To haunt people like a Grim. Just as it was in Remus’s nature to be a beast. To go wild under the throes of the moon. They were two halves of a whole mess. And Remus couldn’t—it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—deal with it right now.

“Get out,” he said, nearly growling through gritted teeth with the full force of Moony’s hostility. He was tired and weak and wanted the ache and the weight of Sirius’s actions to stop crushing him. To stop spreading like a violent heat.

It was an untamable fire that Remus didn’t know how to contain. The way Sirius burned and burned until he set the whole world ablaze in his irrational sense of justice. And sometimes Remus feared he was the wind that fanned the flames.

Sirius’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead at the sharp tone in Remus’s voice. His anger cooled slightly as he muttered in surprise, “What?”

“Get out!” Remus all but snarled like the wild animal he was. Like the wild animal Sirius had no sympathy for.

“Remus…” Sirius pleaded, and his voice fell to a softer tone. More quiet. More afraid. Like Remus had dragged him back into his family’s cold, dark house. Trapped him in some inescapable place. Watching Sirius burn himself to ashes.

Why?

Why were they hurting each other? Making a bloody mess of their hearts. Spilling their pain over hateful words and drowning out the tender beating of their affection. Pushing it aside and letting it fester into something sharp and cruel.

Remus didn’t want to keep hurting Sirius. Didn’t want Sirius to keep hurting him. So Remus needed him to go away. Needed the distance.

He gritted his teeth, straining against Moony’s wild desire to bite back. “I said…get out!”

Sirius’s face went slack, expelling an audible breath from his shaky lips. His face crumpled with visible sorrow. Sirius looked smaller and younger under the ice-cold uproar of Remus’s irritation. Unsure what to make of the storm they’ve created.

“Please, leave,” Remus whispered in spite of his anger. In spite of the betrayal. His heart still yearned for Sirius. Still wanted to soothe whatever ache twisted inside the other boy. But he refused to take back his words and his fury.

His quiet plea stabbed into Sirius, who recoiled. As if he'd been struck by the same spell that hurt Shadow—that hurt Regulus. Sirius took an unsteady step back and then another, until his back hit the hard wood of the door. He opened the door, a watery gleam shining over his eyes, shifted into Padfoot, and ran out of the Shrieking Shack.

His knees buckled under Remus and he let himself fall back to the floor. He felt hands attempting to grip his aching muscles, and Remus jerked away from them. “Don’t,” he snapped at his friends. Remus felt too raw. Too exposed in his pain. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. Didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. He wanted to be alone.

“Leave,” he growled at them too, in spite of himself. He heard hesitant steps creak on the floorboards, walking farther away from him. A second later, the door closed gently behind the marauders.

Remus curled into himself, pulling the blanket closer, almost hoping it would swallow him whole and make all of his problems disappear. A wall split between them. A line was drawn clearly on the floor. The marauders were wizards, and he was a werewolf. Nothing was ever going to change that. Remus shouldn’t ever forget.

The physical pain cried out at him, but the mental exhaustion was too much. The cold, hard touch of the wooden floor wasn’t a comfort, but it kept him grounded. The quiet creaking of the Shack was the only lullaby that could rock him into a peaceless rest. It reminded him that this was his reality.

Remus had paid for someone else’s mistakes once, and now, so would Regulus.

***

When Remus woke up, he found himself on a soft bed in the hospital wing. The windows were cast in the faint orange glow of the sunset. He must have been more exhausted than he thought to have slept the entire day away.

He glanced around the room. Since most of the student population returned home for the break, the place was empty. Except for the dark-haired boy who sat on a chair by the foot of his bed. Map unfolded in his hands and his eyes stared dully behind his round glasses.

James finally looked away from the map when he noticed Remus’s sluggish attempt to sit up. “You alright, mate?” He asked with a heaviness sitting at the corner of his question.

It sounded too much like Remus’s dad. Too much like the conversations layered with apologies. Layered with uncertainties and cold truths. You’re a werewolf, it says, you will always be a werewolf, and there’s nothing you can do about it but be okay with it.

Remus’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Trying to keep the wolf’s anger and hunger away. This wasn’t James’s fault.

“What happened last night?” He asked instead. He needed to know the situation. Needed to know the full extent of the damage.

James bit his lip for a moment before gazing back down at the map. “We were getting ready to meet you in the shack. We were joking around as usual. Sirius said that he hoped Snape wouldn’t be a problem for us anymore.” He paused, swallowing down whatever got caught in his throat. “I asked what he meant, and he said he…told Snape where he could find Shadow.”

Remus’s head pulsed with the echo of a distant howl. A lonely call for help.

“I didn’t have time to be angry at Sirius,” James continued. “I told him to keep you inside the Shack. I took Peter, and we ran to the oak tree. We were close enough to watch Snape shoot a dueling spell at Shadow.”

Moony shut his jaws over Remus’s heart. Sharp teeth were sinking down and threatening to crush him under the force of the pain. Held hostage by the wolf’s guilt. A punishment for failing a packmate.

“I tried to stop him, but the next strike melted the chains. Peter managed to take Snape back to the castle, but I had to keep Shadow away from Snape.”

They kept Shadow away from Snape. Because Shadow wanted to kill Snape. He could have. Regulus almost did.

“I stayed with him. I stayed until morning.” James made a nervous, half-hysterical sound. A butchered attempt at a laugh. “And he—he was…He is…”

“Yeah,” Remus admitted quietly. “He is.”

The confirmation zapped through James like a shock of lightning. Remus could see it in his eyes. James was connecting everything together. Just as quickly as he figured out a difficult homework assignment. As quickly as he planned out their pranks. As quickly as they had become animagi.

“The injuries. The wampus cat attack. It was all there!” James’s lips wobbled, unsure which way to twist as a new understanding unclouded his vision. 

Remus didn’t answer. Allowed James to work through the puzzle.

“Your weird confrontation with him in the library. The whole incident with the truth serum.” James placed a hand over his mouth, taking a deep, shaky breath. “The lake. When he…he was going to…”

Remus shut his eyes tightly, but it didn’t make James’s dawning horror any less notable. He could hear it in the shaking sound of his voice. In his shallow breathing. In the slight dip of the mattress.

They both knew exactly what Regulus meant to do that day in the lake.

“You can’t tell Sirius,” Remus said, trying not to let the bitterness slip off his tongue. 

James lifted his head from where he had dropped it on the bed. A pained stare fixed itself on Remus. “Why not?”

Remus could understand the confusion. He’d wondered the same thing before, but now things were different. They had become much more complicated. Not only had Sirius gone against Remus’s morals, but he’d also placed his own brother in danger. As it stood, Regulus couldn’t afford to learn what Sirius had done to him. The younger boy was already in a delicate mental state.

So Remus told James the only truth that would keep him compliant. “Because Regulus doesn’t want him to know.”

James took a deep breath and lifted his glasses to rub at his eyes. Suddenly looking very tired. Remus could imagine the conflict brewing inside him. Despite his arrogance and rebellious behavior, James had a good heart.

Not telling Sirius about his brother, to James, would be like purposefully lying to his best friend. But also, telling Sirius about his brother would betray Regulus’s wishes.

“Promise me, James,” Remus said firmly. “Promise me you won’t tell Sirius. Regulus has to do it on his own terms. Remember? No more…”

“...no less,” James finished, and that was all the confirmation Remus needed.

James bit his lip as if he were unsure whether he should speak or not. “I think…I think you still need to talk to Sirius.”

Remus gripped the bedsheets. “I’m not in the mood to see him right now. I think we would just yell at each other.”

“You don’t have to talk now. I understand that you both really need some space, but you will talk eventually, right?”

Remus nodded and, attempting to change the subject, pointed at the map still laid out on James's lap. “Let me see the map.” James frowned a bit before he handed it over wordlessly.

Remus forced himself to look away from the Gryffindor common room. Scolding himself for subconsciously searching for Sirius’s name. Instead, he let his gaze wander until he found Regulus’s name. The Slytherin was in his dorm room. Currently alone.

In the Slytherin common room, he could see the names of Crouch, Lovegood, and…Dorcas? Hadn’t Marlene said Dorcas would be going home for Easter break? Unless Remus misheard her.

“They know, don’t they?” James leaned closer to stare at the same spot that Remus did.

“Who?”

“Regulus’s friends.”

“Yeah,” Remus admitted. He remembered the late night trip to the library when the marauders had taken Regulus’s medical file. He had assumed the Slytherins suspected a werewolf at Hogwarts, but Regulus’s friends were only trying to find a way to contain him. They were trying to help Regulus before his first transformation. “They chain him to the oak and help him recover in his dormitory.”

“That’s—that’s good,” James mumbled to himself. “He has people to take care of him.”

He took a deep breath, wondering if now was a good time to bring up his suspicions. Remus folded the map and handed it back to James. He folded his hands on top of the blankets. “James, I know.”

James blinked at him. “Know what?”

“How you feel about Regulus.” Remus watched James’s shoulders tense. “I always wondered where you got that golden snitch from,” he continued. Because James held onto that snitch the same way Sirius carried around the moon globe. Like it was a precious gift. “You smelled peppermint in the Amortentia.”

James’s cheeks went slightly pink under the lights of the hospital wing. He placed his hands over his face and made a noise of defeat. “Please don’t tell Sirius.”

Remus’s gloomy mood quickly vanished, and a reluctant laugh escaped him. James quickly joined in and their laughter resonated across the room. The door to Madam Pomfrey’s office opened and the woman walked out with a confused look on her face.

“What is all that noise?” she asked, her eyes moving between them before settling on Remus. “Oh, Mr. Lupin, you’re finally awake. I’ll have the house-elves bring you something to eat.” Madam Pomfrey turned to James. “Mr. Potter, I’m going to have to ask you to return to your dorm.”

“You got it, Poppy.” James quickly pocketed the map and stood up from his chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Remus.”

Remus nodded and watched James leave the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey went about checking on him as they waited for the house-elves to bring him another meaty portion of food. Remus still felt exhausted and kept any thoughts of Sirius and his awful prank out of his head.

He stayed in the hospital wing for three more days, not feeling particularly ready to return to the dormitory. Or maybe he was simply delaying another confrontation.

Madam Pomfrey questioned his insistence on needing more bedrest, knowing well how much Remus hated being fussed over. Running out of the hospital wing at the first chance he got. Remus merely responded that it had been a bad moon. As if not every moon was bad regardless.

James and Peter visited often and carefully tried not to bring up Sirius in their conversations. Not that it mattered. By the faint smell of spearmint that tingled at Remus’s nose, he knew that Sirius stood right outside the hospital wing during the marauders' visits. Lingering by the doors like a kicked puppy waiting to be let in again.

In the end, he reluctantly returned to the dorms. On his way through the halls, Remus realized he missed the Slug Club party, but he hadn’t been in a festive mood to have gone anyway. Tomorrow, students would be returning to Hogwarts, and classes would start again. He hoped he would get the chance to speak to Regulus sometime soon.

When he reached the door to his room, the marauders’ room—Sirius’s room—Remus hesitated. Debated his next course of action. He hadn’t been this mad at Sirius since the day he prioritized a Quidditch game over their study session back in their third year. He frowned at the fondness that was prompted inside him by the memory. Swallowed it down under the ashes of his still-burning anger.

He would not cave under the half-hearted apologies or soft affection that would rise out of Sirius. Remus had been forgiving each and every day since he was four years old, but there were some things he would not forgive. Sirius needed to earn his forgiveness this time. No other way around it.

He opened the door and noted that the room immediately went quiet. Peter’s hands stopped arranging a single basket filled with pastries and Easter eggs. James sat on Sirius’s bed, hands buried in the thick fur of a Grim. The silence remained like a thick, suffocating fog until Peter walked over to Remus.

“Here, Moony.” Peter handed him the basket. “I had my mum send me extra treats to share, and the eggs are presents from your parents. Happy late Easter.”

“Thanks, Pete,” Remus said softly, shoulders easing at Peter’s attempt to cheer him up.

James bounced off Sirius’s bed. “Welcome back, mate,” he said with a simple smile. James then grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him towards the door. “Wormtail, come help me sneak into the kitchens again before Lily comes back tomorrow.”

“Uh, I–okay—” Peter stuttered with uncertainty as he was dragged away by James. The door closed behind them. Leaving the room in complete silence again.

Remus ignored the dog that remained in the room with him and headed over to his own bed. He placed the basket on his table and looked around his things to find his borrowed copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Lily had recommended it to him.

He knew what James intended. He wanted to give Remus and Sirius some privacy to talk things out. James should have known that neither of them were good at doing that. Sirius, especially, never learned how to solve his problems with words.

Remus was a wild animal, and Sirius was a runaway stray. They’d both been bitten by violence, but only Sirius had learned to bite back. Remus couldn’t afford to. Sirius’s bite was sharp but temporary. Remus’s bite, on the other hand, was deadly and would remain for a lifetime.

They were not the same.

Remus grabbed his book, sat down on his pillows, and continued to ignore the lump of fur in his peripheral vision. When he opened the book to the page he left bookmarked, he noticed a blur of black moving in the corner of his eye. He ignored it.

Continued to ignore it even when the bed dipped significantly with the added weight. He was left rereading the same line over and over again. He couldn’t concentrate. His curiosity got the better of him.

Reluctantly, Remus put down his book to find Padfoot lying on the foot of his bed. The dog remained completely still. Tucked into itself and sinking low into the mattress. As if he was trying to make himself smaller. As if he was trying to give Remus space but was still drawn to him regardless.

Remus thought it unfair. To use Padfoot against him. Moony adored Padfoot. The wolf would not let him fester in his anger if Padfoot was around.

Padfoot watched him with round, watery eyes. His ears were pinned back and his snout lowered in what Moony would acknowledge as a show of vulnerability. Sirius was apologizing to the wolf. But Remus would not have it.

He closed his book to frown down at Padfoot. “If you won’t talk to me as Sirius, then I have nothing to say to Padfoot. Either apologize as yourself or don’t apologize at all.”

Padfoot winced and whined for a second before the large black dog turned into a black-haired teenager. Sirius moved to lie on his back. He stared up at the red curtains. Both of them were on opposite sides of Remus’s bed. A line was still drawn between them.

“Are you still mad?” Sirius asked. He remained unmoving, but his eyes dragged over to Remus.

“Yes,” Remus answered, keeping his tone firm and even. With no room for debate.

“...I’m sorry.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. Unconvinced by the apology. “And what exactly are you sorry about, Sirius?” Because he didn’t want an apology for apology’s sake, Remus needed Sirius to understand what he’d done wrong.

Sirius finally shifted, lying down on his side to watch Remus. Sirius’s face remained passive, emotions quelled under the skin, and fire dulled in his heart. As if Sirius were trying hard not to further upset Remus. Trying not to burn everything to the ground again.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Sirius said, his voice still quiet. It was almost a whisper.

“Only me?”

“...I’m sorry I hurt Shadow.”

Remus closed his eyes and couldn’t help the sigh of frustration that left his mouth. “Why?” he hissed. “Why did you do it?”

“I…” Sirius swallowed. “I don’t want to lose you. If it was between him and you, then I’ll always choose you.”

Remus flinched. “You—you can’t…you can’t say that.” Because Sirius didn’t know, he didn’t know who he was choosing against.

“But it’s true. Snape was becoming a real problem.” Sirius’s fingers clawed at the mattress. “The slimy git had been watching us. He told me he knew you’d been going to the Whomping Willow. I had to turn his attention somewhere else, or he’d start catching on to us. I was trying to protect you!”

“Stop.” Remus flopped himself on the bed, lying on his side to stare at Sirius. “This isn’t about me versus him anymore. You can’t bargain with which one of our secrets is worth protecting more. We’re both werewolves, Sirius. We’re both the same.”

“...what are you saying, Moony?”

“Whatever you think of Shadow will come back to me. However you treat him for being a werewolf will come back to me.” Remus gripped at the blanket until his knuckles went white. “When you sent Snape to Shadow, it was like…it was like you sent him to me.”

Sirius grimaced at Remus’s confession. Physically recoiled, like he’d been wounded by Remus’s words. “No, I didn’t want that—I didn’t mean to…” Sirius slid a hand forward, letting it lie between them, trying to reach Remus. “I just wanted him out of our way. I wanted him to pay for everything he’s done to you. I wanted him to pay for what he did to my brother. Was it so wrong of me to want that?”

Remus didn’t want to sympathize with Sirius’s actions, but he understood where the impulsive temper had come from. A lone Sirius was a less thoughtful Sirius. A dangerous explosion, scorching everything in its path. And the marauders were left dealing with the destruction.

“Maybe it wasn’t your decision to make,” Remus reasoned, not agreeing with Sirius’s misdeed but not brushing off his protective feelings. Although misguided, Remus knew Sirius needed to understand the damage he caused. “You can’t solve all of my problems, Sirius. It doesn’t work that way. Doesn’t what I want matter too?”

“Then what do I do?” Sirius looked away. “How do I fix this?”

Remus reached out, taking Sirius’s hand in his own and squeezed it. Looking for a remnant of a simple touch that didn’t hurt. Wanting the easy affection to return instead of finding it tainted with whatever spilled between them. “You start by coming to me first. Whenever you feel like you need to do something out of anger, you come to me. Promise me that you will.”

Sirius squeezed back. Fingers traced the scars on Remus’s hand, like he could soothe the cracks that slipped into Remus’s heart. “I promise.”

***

Almost two weeks after the full moon, a sense of normalcy returned to Remus. The events of that night continued to hover over their heads, but it pressed against his heart less and less these days. James, especially, tried hard to balance the weight of Regulus’s secret on his shoulders. Careful not to let anything slip out by mistake.

Though it was obvious to the girls that they wore the wounds of their fight on their clothes.

“Alright,” Marlene said, putting down her fork. It was Saturday, and they had been having breakfast just before they went to visit Hogsmeade. “What happened? All of you have been acting weird.”

“Weird, how?” Peter chuckled nervously.

“I don’t know, like you’re thinking before saying anything to each other.”

They all looked at each other. Marlene wasn’t wrong, Remus noticed too, but the marauders were being unusually cautious with each other. Like the easygoing conversations and jokes between them had gone stiff.

Lily gazed at Remus and Sirius. “You two have also been less touchy with each other.”

“What?” Sirius said, placing a hand over his chest. “How indecent Evans, what are you trying to say about me and Remus?”

“Come off it, you know that’s not what I mean.” That, too, was true. Sirius was being extra careful with him. Respecting Remus’s need for space. To feel comfortable in his own skin again. 

“And you,” Mary pointed at James, “you’ve been awfully quiet lately.”

Before James could form a response to that, a green-tied figure approached them.

“Black,” Rory Bones addressed Sirius. “Do you know where I can find Regulus?” All of the marauders stood up straight to stare at Bones. Ever since Easter break, none of them have seen a trace of Regulus. After having so many dinners with him, it felt odd not to have the Slytherin around anymore.

Sirius leaned forward, almost standing out of his seat. “Why? What happened to Regulus?”

Bones tilted his head. “You don’t know?”

“What?”

“He hasn’t been coming to practice anymore,” Bones said, shaking his head like it was a great grievance to miss out on Quidditch practice. By the look on James and Marlene’s faces, it probably was.

Sirius frowned. “That’s…impossible. Regulus is strict about his schedule. Showing up. Being on time. Is he sick?”

“I don’t know, he’s been a bit off lately. Keeps to himself. Leaves immediately when classes are done, and spends all his time in his dorm room.” Bones shifted from one foot to the other. “But that’s not the worst of it.”

Remus didn’t like where this was going. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Regulus and check in on him. Snape hadn’t been a problem anymore. Keeping away from the marauders for once, but Remus needed to know how much Regulus remembered from that night.

“What did Baby Black do?” Marlene asked, glancing worriedly at Sirius, who watched Bones like a hawk.

Bones eyebrows furrowed, looking very troubled. “Regulus stepped down as seeker.”

James slammed a hand on the table, startling the girls. “What?!”

“He quit the Slytherin Quidditch team.”

Chapter Text

Regulus retched into the toilet of their dorm’s bathroom. It’s been difficult for him to stomach meat these days. The feeling of it between his teeth filled him with heavy nausea. His throat would bob in disgust whenever he tried to swallow it down. But each and every time, the illusion of chewing on human flesh wouldn’t leave his head.

He retched again. The contents of his stomach burned up in his throat like putrid acid. He coughed violently, hoping to get rid of the foul taste stuck in his mouth. But he couldn’t stop gagging at the foul smell of what spilled from inside him.

When he’d emptied out everything he had, he continued to dry-heave into the toilet. A sharp pain stung at his chest with every forceful push of his lungs. The nasty burn that scorched into his skin ached. It was evidence of what Regulus expected to happen if anyone found out what he’d become.

This was how he should be treated. This was how one kept people safe from monsters. And that was what Regulus was now: a monster.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see the blurry shapes of human forms. People. Hogwarts students. The echoing sound of a howl. Chains broken. Hunger rumbling. A dangerous creature on the loose.

He could have killed them. Regulus could have killed someone.

When Barty brought him back into the castle, Regulus had refused to let him get any closer. He kept Barty from healing the wound on his chest. He needed the sting of it. To remind himself that this was his punishment. Regulus deserved the pain.

When Dorcas apparated in Hogsmeade and rushed to Hogwarts in a panic over her wand, alerting her that the chains had been broken, Regulus refused to let her get any closer. He wouldn’t tell Dorcas or any of his friends the students that might have been wandering the forest. He needed to keep them out of his problems. To remind himself that even they couldn’t fix the unavoidable tragedy of his nature. Regulus didn’t deserve their sympathy.

Even when Pandora managed to snatch a vial of dittany from the hospital wing to ease his wounds, Regulus refused to let her get any closer. He kept his troubles and his tears to himself. He needed to stop burdening his friends with the weight of his care. To remind himself that he only brought them unnecessary grief. Regulus deserved to be alone.

And when Evan showed up to investigate his sorrows, Regulus refused to let him get any closer. He shut himself away behind the thick green curtains of his bed, letting his mother’s howlers yell vile words at him. He needed it to hurt. To remind himself that he wasn’t anything other than his family’s failure of a child. Regulus didn’t deserve to be treated with kindness.

Above all, they needed to stop pretending Regulus was still normal, because he wasn’t. Not anymore. 

If Regulus dug deep enough, unearthing the roots of his being, he would find a timid little boy. A little boy afraid of not being enough, afraid of not being loved, and afraid of becoming something he wouldn’t recognize.

Now, that boy was gone. He’d been replaced—devoured, completely—by a wolf.

A hungry, prowling wolf trapped in a cage full of children, and one day he could make a meal out of them. The thought chilled him down to his bones, and he dry-heaved again until he coughed from the force that ached through his throat.

He rested his cheek on the toilet seat, not having the emotional range to remember how disgusting that was and not having it in himself to care either. All Regulus knew was that he was a dangerous creature that needed to be kept away from people. These last two weeks since Easter break, he’d done his best to isolate himself.

Regulus was very mindful of his personal space, more so than usual, and flinched away from any physical contact. He stopped eating in the Great Hall, making the house-elves deliver food to his dorm (where he proceeded to throw it up anyway). He steered clear of the Slytherin common room and stayed in his bed when classes were over. He skipped out on Quidditch practice and ignored Dorcas’s questions.

Just yesterday, Regulus had gone to Professor Slughorn’s office and quit the team.

None of it mattered anymore.

The loud knock on the door caused him to flinch.

“Regulus?” Pandora’s voice was muffled through the hard wood. “You’ve been in there for a while, is everything alright?”

Regulus cleared his sore throat. “I must have eaten something unpleasant,” he answered. He usually managed to lock himself in the bathroom whenever his friends were absent to not raise any suspicions about his eating habits. “I will go visit Madam Pomfrey.”

“Do you want us to go with you?”

“No,” he hissed before lowering his voice to a gentler tone. “I can manage on my own, Dora. You all go ahead without me. Perhaps I only need to sleep it off.”

“If you’re sure. We’ll bring you back some chocolate from Honeydukes.” Pandora’s shadow lingered under the slight gap of the door before the floor creaked with her departure.

Regulus waited until he heard the door of the dorm close behind his friends to pull himself back up with his cane. He flushed the toilet, rinsed his mouth, and combed through his hair to give it a tidy look. Despite feeling like the world was crumbling around him, Regulus couldn’t let anyone else watch him fall apart. He needed to keep up the appearance that everything was completely fine. He made sure that none of his friends found out about his injury.

They believed Regulus’s werewolf form grew in strength, causing the chains to break when he transformed back. They assumed from his lack of social interaction that Regulus was putting more effort into keeping his secret well hidden by minimizing any suspicions that might incriminate him. At least for now, the werewolf rumors had died down a bit.

But Hairy Snout, Human Heart didn’t gloss over the fact that many werewolves could become sickly from the amount of energy used up in a transformation, so his friends thought Regulus was simply exhausted and stressed. They thought he was resting when he shut himself in his room, because Regulus couldn’t tell them that he was losing control of himself.

They had been supportive of him at the beginning when they thought they could handle Regulus’s transformations. But now that he couldn’t, would they abandon him? Regulus was now a danger to them, and he was afraid of the possibility of hurting them. He was afraid of becoming the very thing that created him.

He wouldn’t—he couldn’t let himself—pass this curse onto anyone else. If Regulus was going to be a dark creature, then he needed to be treated as one. He spent the last few days researching other methods of containment.

Secretly reading and taking notes on Lupine Lawlessness, knowing that his friends disapproved of the book’s incorrect statements regarding werewolves being mindless beasts. Despite that, the book contained enough information to subdue a dangerous creature.

Regulus fixed his tie in the bathroom mirror, ignoring the growing paleness of his skin and the dark circles forming under his eyes, and wrapped his black cloak around his shoulders. He grabbed his bag of money and left the dormitory. Exiting the Slytherin common room, Regulus made his way to Hogsmeade.

The wizarding village was full of weekend shoppers and Hogwarts students. Regulus kept his head down as his cane thumped against the stone floor. He made sure to steer clear of Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks Inn.

He walked until he reached a dock holding a building with a worn-out wooden sign hanging over the door. The sign advertised the image of a hog’s severed head. The sign on the window sill of the front door was labeled ‘open’. Regulus walked in.

The Hog’s Head Inn was a small, dingy room that was, thankfully, empty of customers. Regulus tried to ignore the strong scent of goats that filled the place. Behind the bar was an old man with a long gray beard, using a dirty rag to make the smudged cup even dirtier. Regulus approached the counter.

He had heard of this pub from overhearing a conversation between some older Slytherin students. A shady, unpleasant place that nobody liked being in, which worked well enough for him. Regulus needed the discretion.

“What d’you want?” The barman grunted, not looking away from his task.

“To use the floo network,” Regulus answered, making sure his voice remained firm and calm. The barman stopped scrubbing and finally looked up. He saw the old man’s blue eyes trace the scars on his face and then on his green tie before lingering on the cane Regulus propped his weight on.

Regulus put down a few galleons on the dusty counter, perhaps a generous amount for such a stingy bar like this. The barman rolled his eyes, but he took the coins. He reached under the counter and placed a small jar of powder on top.

“The fireplace is upstairs.” The barman turned his back on Regulus to arrange the bottles on the shelves.

Regulus moved to the side of the bar to reach a rickety wooden staircase that led up to a sitting room. There was an empty fireplace on the wall and Regulus immediately walked toward it. He grabbed his wand and spoke a simple fire spell to light it up.

As the fire crackled orange, Regulus opened the jar and threw in a pinch of the floo powder. The flames burned emerald green.

He stepped in and carefully enunciated, “The Leaky Cauldron!”

The spinning sensation that came with traveling through the floo network did no favors to his already upset stomach, so Regulus kept his eyes firmly closed to avoid watching other hearths rushing past. Soon, he stumbled out of the soot-stained fireplace and found himself in a long hallway with doors on the walls. Regulus dusted himself off and walked down the hall until he reached another wooden staircase.

Another small, dingy pub stood downstairs. Another old barman cleaned the counter. But unlike the Hog’s Head, the Leaky Cauldron had a steady stream of patrons. The atmosphere was more welcoming.

He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, went to the front door, and walked out into Diagon Alley. The shopping street was filled with a crowd of people going about their day. The crowd pushed and moved rapidly, and Regulus swallowed down his unease.

There were too many people and too many chances of being touched. Fortunately, the crowd made space for him, thanks to wizards and witches not wanting to get their ankles hit by a wooden cane.

The scents and smells of the street were a bit overwhelming, despite the approaching new moon. He was careful in maneuvering away from people that got too close and strolled down the street with false confidence.

The tall, white building of Gringotts Bank loomed in front of him. The goblin at the entrance squinted at him but bowed as Regulus walked inside. He was met with a grand marble hall containing hundreds of goblins in scarlet and gold uniforms sitting on stools behind long counters.

The goblins scribbled on large ledgers, weighed coins on brass scales, examined gemstones through eyeglasses, and talked in severe tones with their patrons.

Regulus made for one of the unoccupied counters. “Morning,” he said politely, noticing the small plate bearing the name Vernak on the table. “I’ve come to open a vault.”

The goblin, Vernak, continued to write in her book of numbers. “I will need a name and a wand for identification, sir.”

Regulus placed his wand on the counter and lowered his hood. “Regulus Black.”

Without stopping her current task, Vernak pulled out all sorts of paperwork from a cabinet. She took his wand and placed it on top of a yellow piece of parchment, where the imprint of his wand stained the page. She returned his wand and rapidly filled out the paperwork before handing him a registration form and a quill.

He put his wand back in his pocket and began filling out the form.

“If you have physical treasure to store, then you must fill out Form GB-11,” Vernak said. “If you wish to store any dark magical objects, then you must request a GB-13 form.”

“I request a transaction form.”

“From which existing account?”

“Vault 711.”

Vernak’s long fingers stopped scribbling, and she finally looked up. Her small, black eyes traced the scars on his cheek. “From the Black family?”

Regulus struggled to keep his expression passive. The Black family was known for keeping goblin-wrought silver and artifacts. If Vernak was hoping to get back those silver rings, then she was out of luck. They’d been powdered down and poured into the wound on Regulus’s leg.

But he did bring along the goblin-made telescope he’d been gifted for his birthday. He took it out of his pocket and placed it on the counter. “Yes, Regulus Black from the Noble House of Black. Will there be a problem?”

Vernak immediately seized the telescope, gently stroking its beautifully-crafted surface. “No, sir. No problem whatsoever.” She carefully placed the telescope under the counter before moving her ledger aside and pulling out a different form and large catalog book. The transaction form was pushed in front of him.

Regulus filled out the form. Ever since he knew he needed to escape Grimmauld for the summer, he had planned to use his current status as House heir to access the family vault while he still could. If he was to run away from home, then he needed financial security. Unlike Sirius, Regulus wasn’t about to just storm off without his due rights to a few galleons.

If all went well, then he could quietly disappear somewhere far away from the wizard population. If all went wrong, then the least Regulus could do was leave something behind for his brother.

Vernak thumbed through the pages of her catalog. “Do you wish to add this vault to the possessions and properties of the main Black Estate?”

“No,” he said firmly. “It will have no affiliation with the Black estate. It will be a private, individual account.”

“Very well.” She searched through the book until she found a particular line on one of the pages. “Vault number 677 is available. It was previously owned by a witch who was set on fire by her pet firecrab. All of her possessions have been moved into her sister’s account.”

Regulus slid the form back to her, where she read and noted down the amount of galleons and sickles he ordered to be transferred into his new vault. The other paperwork he filled out also stated that his possessions would be given to Sirius in the possible outcome of Regulus’s death.

Vernak stamped the paperwork with Gringotts’ seal and passed him a golden key with a ribbon tied around it. The ribbon was labeled with the vault number. “Will that be all, sir?” she asked.

“Yes.” Regulus took the key and pulled his hood back on. “Have a pleasant day, ma’am.”

When he stepped out of the bank, his eyes searched for a shady corner of the street. He made his way over to a hidden intersection that led down a separate street. Regulus walked into Knockturn Alley.

Had Regulus been anyone else, the darker shopping street would have left him uneasy. But he was a Black and darkness tainted their name. The Black family was no stranger to this place.

Even Sirius, who viewed himself as the black sheep of the family, still carried the color in his name. As much as he claimed disownment of the family values, his brother couldn’t deny that he knew his way around this street.

Regulus himself used to walk down this path like a prince visiting the peasantry, but with his scars and mangled leg and the monster caged inside him, he was nothing more than a dark creature lurking in the corners. A beast from nightmares and cautionary tales like the fabled big bad wolf of the Brothers Grimm story, Little Red Riding Hood. Prowling through the streets and looking for its next victim.

A howling threat. Broken chains. Human shapes. Flesh between his teeth.

He leaned against the stone wall of a shop for a minute to stop the queasy sensation in his stomach from the gurgling images that repulsed him. Regulus shook the unwanted thoughts away and composed himself to the best of his ability. He successfully arrived at the store he was looking for.

Mr. Mulpepper’s Apothecary, read the chipped purple sign hanging over the door. Most wizards and witches were familiar with the apothecary in Diagon Alley, where Mr. Mulpepper actually managed the store. Its sister shop here in Knockturn Alley was under a different sort of management. Mostly because it happened to sell a few distinctive items that were not very welcomed in the nicer shop.

He stepped inside to find a dimly lit room with shelves stocked with bottles and jars filled with all sorts of colorful liquids. The woman behind the counter grinned with a few missing teeth, and her left eye twitched involuntarily every few seconds. When Regulus reached the counter, the woman pointed at a jar of small eyeballs floating in a greenish liquid.

“Jemima has a special sale on newt’s eyes,” the woman, Jemima, said with another twitch of her eye. “Fresh from the swamp.”

Regulus shook his head politely. “No, thank you. I am here to purchase a paralysis potion.”

Jemima’s eye twitched, and she turned around to look through the stock of potions lined up on the shelves behind her.

This was another part of his new plan. The metal chains had proven unsuccessful. Regulus needed a new way of keeping himself contained. He planned to slip a paralysis potion before his transformation to keep the werewolf immobile. The potion mimicked the full-body bind spell, but with a few lingering side effects. He was willing to take the risk if it meant making sure the potion was discreet enough to drink without raising too much suspicion. Especially when none of his friends would approve of it.

Jemima placed a small bottle of murky orange liquid on the counter before tapping her fingernails on the glass. “This specific brand of paralysis potion has been banned from St. Mungos and blacklisted by many healers. It’s the only one Jemima still has in stock, so she is willing to sell it for a cheaper price. Eighteen galleons.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, knowing well that it wasn’t a lowered price, but he paid the full amount. Jemima took his money, and he took the potion, hiding it in his pocket.

The front door opened, and the gait of a haughty pureblood family strolled in. The faint smell of expensive perfumes wafted over his nose, and he suppressed the urge to growl at the newcomers.

A man and woman in velvet robes examined the shelves, wearing unimpressed expressions on their faces. Though if they were truly unimpressed, then Regulus knew they wouldn’t have bothered with this place. In Knockturn Alley, everyone was here for a reason.

“Jemima has a special sale on newt’s eyes,” Jemima repeated for the new customers.

Regulus pulled the hood of his cloak further down to hide his face, in case this family had any connections with the Black family and there was a possibility that they might recognize him. The adults ignored him as they walked to the counter, but when he moved to leave the shop, he was stopped by the figure of a small child who remained standing near the door.

The boy was short enough to look under Regulus’s hood. His brown eyes widened when he stared up at Regulus’s face. The boy moved around him like Regulus had some contagious disease before he ran to clutch at his mother’s robes.

Regulus quickly walked out of the shop in long strides until he sat on a few stone steps of an alley path. A small, dirty puddle lay at his feet, and when he gazed down at it, his breath caught in his throat at his reflection.

Regulus’s normally gray eyes were bright with an unusual silver color. Gleaming under the shadow of his hood like a creature of the night. He looked like a menacing figure with a scarred face and eyes that shone like those of a predator.

His heart raced, and his stomach churned unpleasantly. The lingering image of the boy staring up at him squeezed at something in his chest.

A lone child running an errand. A lonely Regulus walked home. Stalked by a lurking beast hidden in the shadows. Watched by a large creature roaming through the snow. The child got tricked. Regulus got bit. Devoured by a big bad wolf.

Except Regulus wasn’t anything like little red riding hood anymore. He became the thing that had eaten her in the first place. Was he now the very monster that made him? Was he capable of attacking a small child? Of hurting that little boy?

He gripped at his cane until his knuckles went white and hauled himself back up. With a mind made up and a determination to keep the people around him safe, Regulus purposefully walked in heavy strides until he reached another questionable establishment.

Mr. Wilde’s Creatures and Curiosities loomed ahead, calling him inside with an eerie answer to the atrocities Regulus held within himself. The shop was vastly spacious, as it needed to accommodate the tanks and cages that contained all sorts of animals and creatures. With high shelves stocked with supplies and equipment. Regulus was unsurprised to see the smuggled and illegal selling of endangered species.

At the counter, a frazzled-looking woman with a mess of hair burned at the tips quickly accepted a bag of jingling coins in exchange for a dragon egg. The witch made haste to leave the shop once she received her payment and gave little attention to Regulus on her way out.

The person behind the counter examined the dragon egg carefully before sealing it inside a wooden crate. Mr. Wilde himself was a man with a salt-and-pepper mustache. His eyebrows were so thick that they settled over his eyes like a permanent frown. He tapped his wand on the crate, and it disappeared from the table.

Regulus approached steadily, even as his heart pounded in discomfort at the wall of illegal hunting equipment that stood behind Mr. Wilde. The sharp harpoons, the solid knives, and the sturdy ropes flashed in front of him like a silent threat.

He wasn’t sure what was more upsetting: that anyone could use one of those weapons to strike Regulus down, or, given the chance, he might just let them.

“What can I do for you, lad?” Mr. Wilde spoke in a gruff voice with a slight accent.

Regulus cleared the lump in his throat and straightened up his posture. “I’m looking for a muzzle.”

“You have a rowdy pet at home? Dog? Cat? A kneazle maybe?”

“Something big enough for a creature with the stature of a hippogriff, perhaps?”

Mr. Wilde arched one of his eyebrows, revealing more of his eye hidden under the thick shadow. The man rubbed at his mustache in thought. “I believe I’ve got just the thing.”

He moved to a shelf stocked with boxes. Pulling out one of the boxes, Mr. Wilde placed it on the counter to reveal a large, thick, metallic outline of a cylinder, tied with leather straps. It looked big enough to contain a werewolf’s jaw.

“How strong is the material?” Regulus asked. If the metal chains he possessed before managed to be broken by the strength of a werewolf, then he needed something more unbreakable.

“It’s completely steel. Strong enough to withstand a dragon’s bite.”

“I’ll be taking it then.” Regulus spared another glance at the thick, brown rope hanging on the wall. “What do you have for chains?”

Mr. Wilde packed the muzzle back into its box. “We’ve got a good assortment, depending on what you’re looking for. Iron, steel, copper, silver, gold, and brass. Which do you need, lad?”

Regulus’s tongue paused at the utterance of the word steel. The durable metal was strong and perhaps ideal, but there was another material far more useful against a werewolf.

“A silver chain would suffice,” he finally answered. A part of Regulus suppressed a shiver when Mr. Wilde packed a long coil of shiny gray chains into another box.

“That’ll be 70 galleons.”

Regulus paid the full amount. He muttered a shrinking spell on his purchases and stored them in his pocket. With a curt farewell to Mr. Wilde, Regulus pulled his hood further down before exiting the shop.

He curled his fingers into fists, letting his nails dig into the soft surface of his palms. Regulus’s body tensed at the knowledge of the bright silver that remained hidden on his person. While the chain was kept away through layers of other material that wouldn’t harm him, it left a scorching feeling that pulsed through him regardless.

Regulus walked back towards the entrance of Knockturn Alley, trying to quicken his pace back to Hogwarts before his friends returned from Hogsmeade. When he turned a stone corner, his feet paused from moving any further.

Up ahead, a good distance away, was a burly figure leaning against the stone wall of a crumbling building. A passing light breeze carried the man’s scent to him. Smoke and rust and unfathomable fury. A savage wilderness of a moon-drunk madness. The wolf within Regulus scratched at the edges of his skin with a restless desire to escape.

The gray-haired man took a deep breath and licked his lips as if savoring his next meal. Icy blue eyes glanced in Regulus’s direction. Regulus’s mouth went dry at the predatory gaze that pierced through him.

A cold rush sank into his bones, and he shivered despite the warmth of spring. Even from the great distance that separated them, Regulus felt like vulnerable prey. His legs trembled with the instinct to run away. His spine tingled with the primal knowledge that he was in danger. Panic began to set in.

Regulus fought off the urge to howl for Remus. Some feral part of himself craved the protection and comfort of his fellow wolf. But for all of Remus’s strength and experience, it was nothing compared to the intimidating nature of the man that stood a few meters away.

There was an unnatural impulse to bow his head and expose his throat to the stranger. To cower under the watchful gaze. An uncomfortable compulsion that Regulus had only ever felt around Remus.

An older man with authority and influence will cross your path; the echo of Barty's voice involuntarily passed through his mind.

The man’s eyes traveled down Regulus’s figure before focusing intently on his bad leg. Regulus couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him. His palms began to sweat, and his breathing grew shallow. That nauseating feeling crawled up his throat again until he swallowed it down roughly.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Regulus was frozen. Instinctively afraid to move a single muscle as the stranger continued to assess him from a distance. It wasn’t until the man’s eyes shone with a bright gleam of sapphire blue that Regulus took an unsteady step back.

The King of Diamonds.

A small crowd of older wizards walked through, obscuring Regulus’s view of the man. The fear that coursed through him was enough to unfreeze his body and allow him to quickly flee. Practically running out of Knockturn Alley, bad leg or not.

His heart beat rapidly against his chest, as if wanting to break out of his ribcage. His breathing grew more and more labored, until all he could hear was the sound of air rushing in and out of his mouth. His vision blurred with passing shapes and colors.

The white building of a bank.

The misty glow of a moon.

The figures of shoppers.

The tall trunks of trees.

The soft movement of emerald fire.

The bright lights of a muggle bus.

Regulus pushed himself out of the dusty fireplace and collapsed on the creaky floorboards. His cane slid out of his hand as he curled into himself, becoming too aware of how much his body trembled.

The distant sensation of that night pulsed against his skin. The teeth that slashed against his face. The claws that sliced into his shoulder. The jaws that dug their moonlit curse into his soul.

His throat closed up with a heavy feeling settling inside him. The desire to cough out the poison in his blood grew stronger when his breathing racked recklessly in his lungs. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes, and they slipped down his cheeks.

Did the man catch the face under Regulus’s hood? Did he notice the green tie resting against his chest? Did he see the Hogwarts crest on the cloak wrapped around him?

Did he know where to find Regulus?

The sudden press of the cane’s handle on his palm jolted him slightly from the choking fit he’d been coughing on the floor.

“Breath, boy,” an elderly voice directed. “Take deep breaths.”

Regulus took a deep, ragged breath and bleary blinked at the old man who kneeled beside him with a murky glass of water in his hand.

“Nothing’s after you,” the Hog’s Head barman said.

Except something was. It got him once, in the midst of winter, under the gaze of a full moon. It had destroyed his life within a single night. It had killed Regulus and replaced him with a monster.

Somewhere deep in his cursed soul, Regulus knew—he’d just met his maker.

Chapter Text

After Rory Bones had announced Regulus’s quidditch resignation, Sirius and James ran out of the Great Hall before Remus could protest. Presumably to hunt down the Slytherin in question.

Remus found himself biting back an involuntary growl of annoyance. His hands curled into fists to stop himself from running after them, and—and what? Chase them away from Regulus?

Remus shook his head to clear away the sudden surge of protectiveness he felt toward the younger boy. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Regulus, and the uncertainty of that conversation left the wolf on edge.

“Good luck to them,” Bones muttered, glancing at the doors that James and Sirius exited with great speed. “No one’s been able to get close to Regulus in weeks.” He gave a quick nod to Marlene. “I hoped Meadowes could reason with him. She’s one of the few people he allows to get near him these days.”

“Why would he quit?” Marlene slammed her hand on the table, rattling some of the nearby plates. Looking completely offended at the notion of Regulus’s actions. “He’s one of Hogwarts’s best seekers—right after me, of course.”

Lily settled a hand on Marlene’s arm, patting it in sympathy. “Maybe he’s still cautious about the sport after what happened with the bludger and his teammate.”

The reminder of the incident scratched at Remus unpleasantly. The wolf clenched its teeth in the back of his mind, sharp and hungry for prey. Forenemies. A threat to Shadow was a threat to the rest of the pack. Moony wouldn’t let anyone hurt them.

He would hunt down this threat, shut his jaws against their neck, and hear the sweet cries of terror and agony as they—

“—us, Remus.” A hand shook Remus’s shoulder. He swiftly turned his head to shoot a nasty glare at the intruder when his rage faltered.

It was just Peter looking at him with nervous concern. “Are you alright, Remus?” His eyes shifted between watching Marlene and Bones’s conversation and then back to Remus. “You bent your spoon,” he whispered.

Remus immediately relaxed his hand. He hadn’t noticed it was clenched so tightly around his spoon, which was indeed bent at an angle. The spoon clattered to the floor, and he stood up abruptly. “We have to go now,” he found himself declaring. “Or we’ll be late to Hogsmeade.”

Bones gave him an odd look before the rest of the girls stood up too. “I don’t know where Sirius or James went, but I’ll try to find Dorcas,” Marlene said. “Maybe she can talk some sense into Baby Black.”

They quickly exited the Great Hall and went to Gryffindor Tower to prepare for the usual Saturday trip.

Inside their dorm, Remus was unsurprised to find it empty. Taking a deep breath, he could detect the traces of fresh spearmint and polished wood. James and Sirius had been here. No doubt to snatch the marauder’s map off of Peter’s bedside table, where they last left it.

He paced back and forth in front of his bed as he waited for Peter to find his coin pouch. There was a sudden, restless energy buzzing through his skin. Quickly building up along his limbs with an overwhelming desire to search and catch. To chase. To hunt. To sink his teeth into—

“—ady to go?”

Remus blinked down at Peter. “What?”

“Are you ready to go?” Peter stared at him for a moment when Remus took too long to answer and bit his lower lip. “You’ve been acting a bit strange lately, Moony. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m…” Remus didn’t know how to explain his behavior since even he was a bit caught off guard by it. “…not sure.”

Under normal circumstances, Remus only went to Hogsmeade on days when the effects of the moon had faded. The new moon was only two days away, yet he hadn’t felt any relief this past week. Moony continued to prowl under the surface of his skin.

While they had been working on their issues, Remus found himself snapping at Sirius. Moony’s sharp growls often kept Sirius at arms length, still sore about what happened to Shadow. Sirius had tried very hard to stay on Remus’s good side, even if his recent temper was mainly amplified by the wolf’s growing rage.

Something was wrong.

“I’ve run out of chocolate,” Remus said, hoping that was a sufficient explanation. Chocolate, to Remus, wasn’t merely a fancy for sweets but a treatment for his shifting moods. Maybe his increasing irritation was because he hadn’t eaten enough of it this month.

“That could be it.” Peter nodded and patted Remus’s arm sympathetically. Remus held still, trying not to flinch away from Peter’s touch. A touch that once had been warm and welcomed was now tainted by the reminder that Remus was the odd one out. No matter how understanding and accepting the marauders were, it didn’t change the fact that Remus, in the depths of his being, was still a wild creature.

Peter looked around the room. “Should we wait for James and Sirius?”

“No,” Remus immediately answered. They would be too busy being on a wild goose chase looking for Regulus. “You know how Sirius gets when it comes to his brother.”

“Yeah, he had us break into Poppy’s office.” A pause. “Mrs. Norris still has it out for me; I know it.”

That almost made Remus smile, but he only shook his head in amusement. “It’s just you and me today, Pete.”

Peter managed to smile for the both of them. “Let’s go get you some chocolate.”

They met up with the girls in the courtyard before setting off with the rest of the students to Hogsmeade. Remus then realized that he should have stayed in his dorm.

The scents and sounds were overwhelming. It was why Remus usually avoided going to Hogsmeade on days that were too close to the full moon. But that was where the confusion came from. The full moon was two weeks away.

Aside from the wolf’s behavior, he had noticed a wild hunger beginning to grow in Remus’s stomach again. He found himself craving fresh meat and turning his nose away from the stench of vegetables. Even now, as he followed Peter into Honeydukes, Remus had little appetite for chocolate.

Something was definitely wrong.

The bodies of shoppers mingled around the aisles and shelves that swarmed too close for Remus’s liking. Moony’s hackles raised along his skin at the feeling of being too crowded. Too caged in. Their scents perfumed the air, and their voices echoed loudly. Remus bit down on another potential growl.

“Do you mind getting the chocolate without me?” He asked Peter as they stood in the middle of the sweet shop. Warily watching the other students. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“No worries, mate.” Peter nodded sympathetically and shooed him away.

Remus shuffled out of the shop in a hurry and took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. It was then that he caught the lingering scent of primal rage and peppermint: Regulus. Regulus was here in Hogsmeade.

He followed what little he could trace of the smell—without noticing where it was taking him—to track and chase after a missing packmate. Remus needed to check on Regulus. Moony needed to check on Shadow. A lone wolf could be a dangerous one. Unfortunately, the scent disappeared with the wind. Faint and gone as it had been.

“Remus?”

He blinked out of his daze, and Remus let the scent of green apples settle down his nerves. “Lily?”

Lily stood in front of another store building. She gave him a concerned look. “You all right? Is your arthritis acting up again?”

He didn’t know how to answer her truthfully. Had today been anywhere near a full moon, then he would have agreed. But while Moony howled near the forefront of his mind and soul, the wolf’s beastly form was nowhere near the surface of his body. He wasn’t on the brink of a transformation, at least not physically.

“Yes, it must be,” Remus lied, more to himself than to Lily. “I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“You didn’t buy your chocolate?”

“Peter’s getting it for me.”

“Then you can stand out here with me and keep me company. From one prefect partner to another.” Lily nodded over to a store a few meters away with a roll of her eyes. “Mary went inside the pet shop, and I know she’ll be there for ages and come out empty-handed again.”

“And Marlene?”

“She caught sight of Dorcas and her friends. She’s taking what Amelia’s little brother told us very seriously. But you know how she gets about Quidditch.”

Remus managed a small smile. “Marlene can be just as bad as James.” They chatted for a little bit after that, while Remus slowly calmed the wolf’s nerves. It wasn’t until Lily suddenly gestured towards the display window they stood in front of that he was reminded of his problem.

The window showcased a large brass model of the solar system. The sun stood at the center in all its yellow glory. The earth slowly spun like the ticking seconds of a clock. What captured Remus’s attention, though, was the position of the moon. It was circling too close to the sun. Almost as if it was positioning itself between the Earth and the sun. A slight shiver trailed along his spine as he watched the pieces orbit around each other.

“I came to see this for our Astronomy class,” she explained. “I know we still have three weeks to work on our final project, but I wanted to make mine about the solar eclipse since it’s going to pass by soon, and—” Lily kept talking, a low buzz of words that weren’t registering in Remus’s brain anymore.

“When?” The question choked out of him in a rush, interrupting her.

“What?”

He hoped the forming panic wouldn’t be heard in his voice when he asked, “When is the solar eclipse?”

“On Monday afternoon. It’ll pass right over Africa, so we won’t be able to see it. But I’m hoping Professor Sinistra will—”

The solar eclipse!

That was what was wrong. Remus had been through a few of them in his lifetime, but they weren’t common enough for him to pay much attention to. But it seemed like another one would be approaching soon. It explained Remus’s recent odd behaviors.

A solar eclipse had the opposite effect of a lunar eclipse. The lunar eclipse allowed their human consciousness to remain present during a wolf’s transformation. The solar eclipse, on the other hand, allowed the wolf’s instincts and presence to overtake their human consciousness during the daytime.

“—ary, you never buy anything,” Lily’s voice chided with amusement.

“I can’t just pick one,” Mary answered. “They’re all so adorable!”

Remus blinked and noticed that Mary had returned from the pet shop. The scent of sweet lilies and vanilla calmed him for a bit, but the uneasiness of his discovery stuck to him like a dull headache. 

He took a deep breath when the reappearance of an earlier scent caught his nose again. The once faded traces of peppermint were suddenly potent in the air. Moony diligently took in the comforting smell of another wolf. He stepped away from the human chatter to follow Shadow’s scent.

His ears fell deaf to the noises of the tall, two-legged creatures that wandered around in colorful clothes. Moony tracked the other wolf until he reached another wooden building. A severed hog’s head hung over it.

The blanketed figure of a dark-haired human limped out of the building. Shadow moved with quick, awkward steps. Moony inhaled deeply, preparing to howl at his packmate, but the breath choked in his throat.

Remus coughed roughly. Suddenly aware of where he’d gone; The Hog’s Head. Frank and Alice had warned the marauders that this was a seedy place and to never go here. It was a pub only crooks and treacherous wizards dared to enter. But then, what had Regulus been doing there?

He quickened his pace to reach the Slytherin, relieved to finally have a moment to speak to Regulus and warn him of the upcoming eclipse. Remus stretched out his hand and gently placed it on Regulus’s shoulder to—

Smack!

The sting on his hand pulsed with heat and spite. Remus stared at it, a growing fire burning in his belly. The longer his gaze remained on his hand, the longer his anger boiled. Soon he lifted his eyes to the wolf, who dared to strike him.

Regulus’s eyes were frenzied and wild, with dark circles underneath them, which stood out against the paleness of his skin. The usual perfectly styled dark hair was left in messy waves. He grabbed at both his cane and cloak with a tight, white-knuckled grip.

“Don’t touch me,” he all but growled, voice rumbling defensively. With his eyes flashing silver for a brief moment, Shadow bared his teeth in warning.

Moony’s skin prickled at the challenge. Who was this runt to think he could snap at Moony? To show his teeth and threaten? He took a step forward, standing at full height, to force Shadow to back down.

Shadow’s eyes remained wild as he took a shaky step back. His shoulders hunched over in a cautious, jittery motion. Moony crowded him before a putrid scent caught his nose.

The metallic powder of glinting acid; silver.

Remus flinched, taking a few hurried steps back. Regulus’s silver eyes dulled down to their regular gray color, and he straightened again to regain his arrogant posture.

The silence between them buzzed with something that made Remus very nervous. It was then that he realized they stood between the walls of an alleyway. Hidden from the other Hogsmeade shoppers. Regulus pressed his back against the stone wall of a building, keeping a careful eye on Remus.

Remus watched him warily, and worry began to build up in his throat as he bit down on the wolf’s urge to whine. Despite his mask of composure, Regulus’s body trembled with the motions of a wild, cornered animal. His peppermint scent had turned sour with fear. Eyes looking around his surroundings, searching for an escape.

Escape from what?

Regulus looked sick. He had quit the Slytherin Quidditch team. Isolated himself from anyone who wasn’t a close friend, and avoided his brother. He had emerged from the Hog’s Head, a very questionable place. And he carried a metal that was known to be deadly to werewolves.

None of it spelled anything good.

“What are you planning?” Remus asked as gently as he could, determined not to spook Regulus any further.

Regulus frowned. He pulled the hood of his cloak further over his head, hiding half his face in shadow. “Nothing that should concern you.”

“It does concern me.”

“I assure you, it doesn’t.”

“Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s ‘going on’, Lupin!”

Remus’s shoulders sagged. “Lupin?” Regulus hadn’t addressed him by his last name in weeks. It was obvious that he was trying to create some distance between them again. Whatever Regulus remembered from the last full moon had driven him to isolate himself.

“Regulus.” Remus tried not to sound like his mum when she scolded him. “If anyone knows what you’re going through, it’s me. You can hide from everyone else—but not me.”

He didn’t know what expression he wore on his face, but somehow it made Regulus’s firm lips wobble. Regulus took a deep breath before exhaling with a shaky, “I saw him.”

“What?”

“I saw him,” Regulus repeated, his eyes shining silver again through the darkness of his hood. “The…creature that made me.”

Remus froze.

No wonder Regulus was afraid. He couldn’t imagine seeing Greyback again. The thought made him shiver unpleasantly. Who had Regulus seen? Who had bitten him and made him into this mess of a boy?

Regulus bared his teeth again: defensive; scared; caught. Remus didn’t know how to calm him down. How to make him feel better. Just like the marauders couldn’t change Remus, they couldn’t stop him from being Moony—Remus couldn’t stop Regulus from being Shadow either.

And right now, Shadow was scared and angry; and he had every right to feel that way. Neither Remus nor Regulus wanted to be violent, but there was little they could do when they had claws for hands and fangs for teeth. Sometimes, even the gentlest of touches were unwelcome and there was no one to blame if a hand got bitten for the effort.

Regulus’s arms wrapped around himself; whether for comfort or protection, Remus didn’t know. He hunched his shoulders in defeat. “You know what the worst part was?” Regulus asked, a watery tone gurgling in his voice. “Realizing that some day, I might just be like him.” The silver shine disappeared when he closed his eyes, as if bracing himself for something painful. “A monster.”

Remus’s hands itched to reach out and shake Regulus. No, he wanted to cry, don’t say that. Regulus couldn’t afford to think that about himself. To compare himself to the horrible beast that attacked him. That made him this way.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Mum used to say, those first few nights he had to spend locked up in the cellar. “You are not what happens to you. You are Remus Lupin, and he is a wonderful boy. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“You’re not,” Remus snapped.

Regulus shook his head slowly. “I did something very bad.” The hood shifted slightly, revealing the tired lines under his dull gray eyes as they stared blankly to the side, haunted and guilty.

Remus’s breath got caught in his throat. For a moment, he wasn’t looking down at Regulus Black. Instead, a little, brown-haired boy with scars on his face stared up at him, eyes wide and frightened. Faced with the reality of how small and young they truly were. It made his eyes sting with a wetness that refused to spill.

“I almost…hurt someone.” Regulus’s body started trembling.

“No!” Remus’s hands gripped tightly at Regulus’s arms. “It wasn't your fault!” He wasn’t sure who he was trying desperately to reassure—Regulus or himself. Because if Regulus could become a monster, then what was stopping Remus from being one too?

Regulus growled, his eyes blazing silver again when he squirmed against Remus’s hard grip. “Don’t touch me!”

Remus’s skin prickled with dread again. Being entirely aware of whatever silver Regulus carried with him. Moony growled back, wanting to rip out of his skin and destroy the putrid metal. Wanting it far away from them.

Oversweetened honey and baked bread filled the alleyway, creating an anxious scent that both calmed and agitated him.

“Uh, Remus?”

The sharp swing of a hard pole struck his knee. Remus hissed and loosened his grip. Regulus pushed him away, using his dark cane to keep a good distance between them. Remus glanced over at where the voice had come from, and Regulus took advantage of his distraction by shoving past him and escaping from one end of the alley. Remus bit down on his tongue to stop himself from howling after the boy. He took a deep breath to quiet the restless energy of the wolf, still scratching through the front of his mind, and turned around.

At the other end of the alley was Peter.

A crumbled bag of sweet treats lay on the floor by his feet. Peter pointed a limp finger, eyes wide, staring at Remus. “Y-Your eyes…”

Remus resisted the urge to touch them, knowing it wouldn’t reveal anything to him. “What?”

“They’re glowing!”

He closed his eyes firmly, feeling another headache. Another wave of primal instincts and a moonlit haze. “Pete,” he said through gritted teeth. “Help me get back to Hogwarts.” Remus braced himself for the sensation of Peter’s hand clasping his own, but quickly relaxed when he felt a tug at his sleeve instead.

“We better hurry before anyone sees you,” Peter said, carefully leading Remus around. “We can sneak back in through the Shrieking Shack.”

They managed to get inside the creaky, old building and walk through the tunnel until they emerged from the Whomping Willow. Peter led him through the Hogwarts corridors until they reached the dormitories. The strong smell of fresh pine and spearmint perfumed their dorm room. Remus relaxed and opened his eyes.

Inside, they were greeted by the moving figures of James and Sirius. James paced back and forth around the room with the marauder’s map unfurled in his hands, his eyes roaming all over it. Sirius sat on his bed, a piece of parchment being scribbled rapidly with a quill. His fingers were stained with drops of black ink.

“—like he appareted away! There’s no trace of him in the castle,” James said out loud, mostly to himself as he didn’t wait for a response from an already occupied Sirius and continued to pace and rant at the map.

“Pureblood, blood supremacy, snakes, serpents…” Sirius kept mumbling words to himself, occasionally stopping to write something down on the parchment.

“This day keeps getting stranger and stranger,” Peter said, breaking whatever mindless motions the other two boys were making.

“You’re both back early,” James commented, still watching the map.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s Pads doing?”

“Trying to figure out the Slytherin common room password.”

“He needs to stop that right now. We’ve got a furry problem.”

“A what?”

“It’s Moony!”

James immediately lowered the map, and Sirius looked up from his writing. They both stared at Remus, or rather at Remus’s eyes.

Sirius jumped off his bed, parchment and quill falling to the floor. “What happened to his eyes?”

“I don’t know!” Peter started waving his arms around wildly. “We went to Honeydukes for some sweets, and Remus stepped out for a moment. When I walked out, he was gone, so I went looking for him. I found him in an alley, and Remus looked at me, and his eyes were all glowy and gold!”

His friends’ conversation faded out of focus when Remus’s nose filled with the comforting scents of his pack. Moony wanted to play with Wormtail, chase Prongs, and lie beside Padfoot. He didn’t want to be trapped inside this dark, solid cage—this room.

Moony never wanted to return to that lonely cellar. He wanted to run outside in the forest. To race through the trees and splash in the lake. To hunt down his prey and fill his growing hunger, and—

“—emus! Remus!”

Remus’s body was forcefully shaken forward and backward. He shoved the hands that grabbed onto his shoulders away and let out a rib-rattling growl. Sirius held up his hands in surrender and quickly took a step back.

“He’s been doing that a lot too,” Peter said, glancing nervously between Remus and Sirius. “Spacing out at random.”

Sirius tried not to look hurt at Remus’s growled warning. Physical contact between them was still on shaky ground. And with the wolf’s instincts fogging up Remus’s thoughts, he was left with a mess of conflicted feelings regarding Padfoot. “What’s wrong, Moony?” Sirius asked.

“Lily,” Remus began.

“Lily?” James’s eyebrows pinched together in clear offense.

“Lily,” he repeated, trying not to snap at James for his impatience, “brought something to my attention.”

“And this has something to do with…” Sirius pointed at his eyes and said, “whatever that is?”

Remus grunted, visibly annoyed at the interruption. “There will be a solar eclipse on Monday. In the afternoon.”

Sirius swore, having noticed the severity in Remus’s tone. James’s face twisted in worry, biting at his bottom lip as if to stop himself from speaking. Remus knew what James must have been wanting to ask. More likely who he wanted to ask about.

“Moony will be around in the daytime while the moon gets closer to the sun. I won’t transform,” Remus reminded them. “But I won’t be entirely aware of myself.”

“Oh, like last year?” Peter asked. “When you were rolling around everyone’s beds?” His face scrunched up in offense. “You bit my hand.”

Remus remembered that. Peter had tried to take the pillows away when Remus was chewing on them, and he got bitten for the effort. He had apologized afterwards, not that Peter forgot.

Peter quickly looked worried. “You can’t be going to class like that!”

“I’ll stay in the dormitory while the eclipse passes. That way, none of you would need to babysit me.”

“Then your eyes go all glowy in the eclipse because…?”

“They’re Moony’s eyes.”

James raised his hand. “I can get Remus back to our room by noon.” 

Sirius took a careful step forward, a teasing smile formed on his face even as his eyes looked on with concern. “You’re not going to run off chasing Hagrid’s chickens, are you?”

Remus could feel Moony’s desire to stroke his cheek against Padfoot’s. There was a physical urge to rub their scents together until neither of them could be distinguished. But Remus fought the desire and kept himself out of Sirius’s reach. Despite the instinct, he was aware enough to remember that Sirius had caused this.

A simple touch gone cold. Capable of violence and pain. And Remus was afraid that, in the sharp edge of his anger, he might bite and shatter what was left of all the good things he’d built. Of all the good things he was still allowed to have.

He couldn’t find it in himself to hate Sirius for it. Remus had loved for far too long and wide to make any space for loathing. Or maybe he’d gotten used to burying all the bad feelings under layers of good memories. It was the kind of love he’d learned to grow with his dad. Always needing to cover a black hole of guilt and resentment.

And maybe Remus was beginning to understand how Sirius and Regulus felt about each other. Always hovering around each other’s spaces, never knowing if they were welcomed in them. Being doomed to love someone they could never understand and would never understand them in return. Bringing out the best and worst in each other.

And now Regulus was at his worst, and Sirius had brought that out of him.

“No,” Remus snapped, shoulders hunched and knees bent, hands fisted and nails piercing his skin. A wolf preparing to lunge at the slightest provocation.

Sirius flinched but didn’t step away. Standing firm and tall. Almost defiantly. Even when his eyes softened with resignation. The grayness of their color pierced into Remus. An extinguished fire that left ashes in its wake. Daring Remus to tackle him to the ground and tear him apart. Like he deserved it.

Remus faltered.

It took him back to that night. In the hospital wing with Regulus. The Black brothers wore torment like a well-loved coat—needing to suffer for any scrap of warmth. Sometimes even when they knew that they could never have it.

“My parents will kill me the moment they find out what I am now.”

Punishment was all that waited for them at home. Punishment was all they knew how to inflict on others, but mostly always on themselves. It was something the marauders could never understand.

“Then you’re already living the better life.”

“Alright,” James said, moving over to stand in between Remus and Sirius. A valiant stag taunting the predators to give him a reason to use his powerful antlers. “Moony’s going to be here for now, until the solar eclipse passes, and we’re all going to handle this together without fighting. Understood?”

Remus grunted, and Sirius mumbled under his breath.

“Understood,” Peter answered for all of them. Then, he glanced back at Remus’s eyes with another frown. “I hope Regulus didn’t notice anything odd about your eyes.”

Remus resisted the desire to growl at Peter. He forgot that the other boy had caught Remus and Regulus together when they were both snapping at each other like wolves. Peter had seen his eyes, but had he seen Regulus’s?

James and Sirius tensed, both turning to stare at Remus again.

“Regulus was there?” James asked, taking a seat on his bed and throwing the map on the mattress. “He was in Hogsmeade this whole time?”

Sirius's face went blank, even when his eyes gained an inch of panic. “What were you doing with Regulus?” He directed at Remus.

“They were talking, I think,” Peter answered for him, and then his lips formed a thin line. “Regulus looked sick.”

Remus mentally groaned. He had forgotten to warn Regulus about the solar eclipse. Fully aware of Moony’s impatient pacing, still eager to pounce on something and rip it apart. Moony didn’t know what else to do with the agitation. Didn’t know how to help a packmate who was far away and hurting; young and vulnerable.

“Sick?” Sirius mumbled, his eyes searching between Peter and Remus. “How sick?”

Peter began lifting each finger, listing off: “Pale skin, bloodshot eyes, dark circles, gaunt face, bad mood.” He turned to Sirius with a slight, mirthful expression on his face. “Are you sure your brother isn’t a vampire?”

Sirius shoved Peter roughly, who merely laughed in relief as he tumbled down on James’s bed. James whacked him with a pillow, and Peter squeaked like his animagi form.

“If Reggie were a vampire, then I would have known about it already,” Sirius declared, his lips lifting up in a reluctant smile.

James snorted, and Remus kept himself from making a similar sound. While Regulus was not in fact a vampire, he was a creature of the night, and Sirius was none the wiser.

“Regulus is stressed,” Remus said, which was true. “About O.W.L.s.” The lie rolled off his tongue with ease, and only a small pinch of guilt stabbed at his heart for it. It wasn’t that Remus liked lying to his friends, but werewolves were good liars; they had to be.

Sirius’s shoulders sagged, all the tension lifting off of him for a second. “He always neglects himself when it comes to exams. What an idiot! Maybe Regulus needs one of Remus’s chocolates to lighten up his mood.”

“Oh no, the chocolates. I dropped them in Hogsmeade,” Peter groaned, jumping off the bed and rushing to the door. “I hope they’re still there. If I go now, then I can bring them back before someone else takes them.”

“I’ll go with you, Wormy. We should use the secret passage behind the One-Eyed Witch to Honeydukes,” Sirius suggested. “Maybe Regulus is still hanging around Hogsmeade. I’ll see if I can catch him.”

They both quickly exited the dorm, and Remus reached out to grab James’s shoulder. James’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “We need to talk,” Remus told him.

“Your eyes are back to normal,” James noted, scooting to the side to make room for Remus on his bed.

Remus shrugged. “It comes and goes.” He took a deep breath, allowing Moony to settle under his skin. To relax in a familiar place. The dorms had always felt safe, and Remus desperately held on to that comfort. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

Remus stared down at the discarded map so he wouldn’t have to look into James’s eyes. They were filled with guilt at having to keep Sirius in the dark, but it was a secret they promised to respect.

It had already been tarnished once.

“I did something very bad.”

And Remus couldn’t let it happen again.

“On Monday. We need to catch Regulus.”

***

Monday came sooner than Remus was mentally prepared for. Moony’s thoughts and feelings began to superimpose themselves over his own. It became harder and harder to distinguish which belonged to Remus and which were the wolf’s.

The official plan was for Sirius and Peter to cover for Remus’s golden eyes, pretending to be doing a new prank. Then they would all go to the Great Hall, and Remus would eat a meaty portion of lunch. Then, when the rest of the school would continue on their way to class, Remus would hide out in the dorms for the rest of the day.

The unofficial plan was for James and Remus to track down Regulus before he left for any of his classes. James would sneak Remus and Regulus out of Hogwarts and to the Whomping Willow. They would remain in the Shrieking Shack until the eclipse passed and then meet back at the dorms after classes were over.

Remus shivered. Without his soft fur and thick coat, the naked skin of his flesh was too exposed. The phantom sensation of his tail trailed behind him, wanting to move it but being physically unable to. His face was too flat, and his ears were too short. All his limbs were out of proportion.

They sneaked away from the Gryffindor table and returned to their common room before anyone could catch sight of Remus’s odd behavior. At least that’s what the rest of his pack was trying to tell him, but Remus didn’t think he was acting strange.

When he finished chewing on the last piece of beef between his flat teeth, Remus rubbed his cheek along Sirius’s. Hoping their smells would mix together until it became a new one. Until it became theirs.

Remus buried his face into long black strands and Sirius laughed, showing a mouth filled with similar flat teeth. It felt wrong and right and everything in between.

Sirius cradled his too-long, too-thin hands. Pressing his lips to the back of each finger. Remus couldn’t remember what the gesture meant, but it filled him with warmth. “You’re in a good mood, Remus.”

The words floated through his head like a foggy cloud. He understood them, the sounds, and their significance, but they also didn’t mean anything to him. Mindless noises. Like the rustling of leaves or the rushing current of rivers.

The den was soft and warm. Their stomachs were full. No one would go cold. No one would go hungry. The pack was safe. That was all that mattered to Remus.

Sirius wrapped equally thin, long arms around him. Squeezing their chest, and bellies together. Exposing their softest parts to each other. Affection. Safety. Trust. “We’ll see you when we get back,” Sirius mumbled into Remus’s ear.

If Remus’s tail could cooperate, then it would be wagging fiercely. Content to stay here with Sirius pressed against him. But too soon, Sirius let go. Remus whined at the separation.

“You two go on ahead,” James said. “I want to have Remus settled before we leave.”

“We’ll distract the girls,” Peter told James. 

“Don’t forget to put up the security spells in case anyone comes up here,” Sirius added.

James nodded. “Hurry before Lily or Mary come looking for Remus. I heard them talking about wanting to compare notes for Charms.”

Sirius and Peter left the den. James opened a flat, thin sheet of paper and looked all over it. Remus yawned, wanting to take a nap. He closed his eyes and dozed on the ground. After a bit, he was startled out of his sleepy haze when James grabbed his arms and pulled him out of the den.

“Come on,” James urged, taking Remus down flat, solid tunnels filled with strange scents. “Regulus is in the dungeons.”

They passed through a few more tunnels until the light began to dim. It was completely empty. The silhouette of a figure was pressed against the stone surface, dragging itself forward. The figure looked pale in the darkness and limped slightly on its approach.

Remus shook his head and took a moment to reorient himself. They were in a dimly lit corridor, somewhere in the dungeons. The figure of a dark-haired boy snarled at them.

James took a step forward until Remus caught his arm, pulling him back. James gave him a startled look but remained at Remus’s insistence. “Regulus?”

Regulus froze, his head leaned over to the side as if trying to hear better. Slowly, he shifted around until his gaunt face disappeared under the shadows of the torchlights. Two silver eyes flashed in the dark.

“You need to come with us,” James said, stretching out a hand for Regulus to take. Regulus’s glowing stare watched the offered hand for a moment, blinked, and then, in a moment of impressive speed, fled up the staircase.

Remus’s legs buzzed with new energy. A desire to be faster. A desire to follow. To chase and tackle to the ground. He moved before another human thought could stop him. Tracking down the bitter peppermint scent of the other wolf.

James swore behind him. The sound of footsteps followed them out of the dungeons.

On the ground floor, Regulus stumbled out into the courtyard. Sunlight washed over them as a light breeze ruffled what little fur they had on their heads. It tickled their hairless skin. Remus shivered, his ghost tail wagging behind him.

Regulus had a head start, but Remus was faster. He tackled the younger wolf to the ground. Clouds of dirt drifted around in the air in their struggle. Remus kept pressing down on Regulus to stop him from fighting against him. But Regulus refused to yield to Remus’s authority.

A rebellious packmate could spell trouble in the group. If they refused to follow Remus’s lead, then it could cause unrest among the other members. Remus needed to keep the peace. To make sure they were all safe and fed and sheltered. To make sure they survived.

One stubborn wolf wasn’t about to ruin that.

Before he could snap his jaws at Regulus for it, something tugged him back. Lifting him away from Regulus, who shuffled back with a defensive snarl.

“Stop!” James pulled at Remus’s arms, keeping him from lunging at Regulus again.

Instead, Regulus pulled himself back on his feet and turned to run out of the courtyard and into the grassy fields of the Hogwarts grounds. Remus pushed James away, growling at him for getting in the way, and sped off to follow after Regulus.

Wait, what was he doing? Why was he chasing after Regulus? Remus yelped at the sharp sting pounding in his head. Trying to hold on to his humanity. To hold on to Remus Lupin. He slowed down his pursuit, gazing down at his trembling hands and fighting off the urge to tackle Regulus to the ground again.

The scent of sharp pine filled his nose. “Come on, Remus, snap out of it. We need to get you both to the Shack,” James said, grabbing his arm in the shadow of a simple touch.

Remus wanted to keep the wolf at bay, but he knew the moon was almost at its peak. The eclipse was only seconds away. Moony was leaking through his skin and devouring all common sense.

“I can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, wanting them sharp, cruel, and easy to rip through flesh. “I’m…sorry.”

He should have never left the dormitory. Should have stayed asleep under his bed like last year. Locked away. Hidden from sight. Out of the moon’s control.

Remus froze, his shoulders tensed involuntarily. All of his senses grew sharp and violent and hungry. The wrongness of his limbs filled him with anger. This body was too small and weak. How was he supposed to hunt? How was he supposed to protect his pack? His friends?

“Regulus, no!” The figure that smelled like James yelled, letting go of Remus and sprinting over to Hagrid’s hut. Remus cautiously walked behind him, following the smell of mint and wilderness.

James jumped over a fence, and when Remus reached the wooden enclosure, he saw a figure that smelled like Regulus chasing the chickens. The other wolf stumbled, partially lifting one of his thin legs, and tried to pounce on the flock of birds. Roughly colliding with the dirt and spreading feathers everywhere, without a single prey caught. Being entirely inexperienced in hunting.

James rushed over to pull Regulus away from the clucking chickens. Regulus snapped his jaw at him, baring flat teeth, as a warning for James to stay away. Remus didn’t like that.

He walked over to Regulus and harshly slammed his shoulder into his side. Regulus cowered, taking a few steps back and lowering his head. Turning away from James and Remus. The loud rumbling of a stomach cut through the moment.

Remus tilted his head at the sound. Regulus looked rather thin, and he wasn’t a very good hunter. Still young and vulnerable. He must have been starving. Remus felt hungry too. He needed to feed the pack. Help them survive.

He looked back at the chickens.

“Don't even think about it!” James pushed them out of the enclosure. “We have to go before Hagrid comes back.”

Regulus huffed out a grumble, and Remus didn’t turn his gaze away from the chickens. Quick and easy prey to catch. He could do it, snap one of their necks, and feast on fresh meat. He’d even share with Regulus if the other wolf stopped fighting him.

Without his antlers, James wasn’t as intimidating when he tried to push them in another direction. So Remus didn’t budge, and neither did Regulus. They both stood behind the fence, carefully tracking the chickens.

James sighed and took out his wand. “Accio Chicken.” One of the birds floated out of the enclosure and hovered over their heads. “You want it?” He taunted, then turned in the other direction and started running. “Then come catch it!”

Eagerness and hunger tingled all over his body. Remus wanted to chase, catch, and eat. They sprinted forward, pursuing the floating chicken being led away by James. Regulus was slower in the chase, grunting and grumbling under his breath to keep up.

At one point, James halted in his tracks, muttering a quick, “Shit, Professor Kettleburn is coming,” and changed directions. Leading them closer to the entrance of the Quidditch pitch.

“Depulso!” He said with a sweep of his wand, and the chicken flew away and out of sight. “We’ll hide in here until the Care of Magical Creatures class leaves.” James kept a careful watch over the entrance.

Without the enticing prospect of an easy meal, Remus lost interest in whatever James was saying. He turned his attention back to Regulus, who hunched into himself and backed away from them. A brave display of a snarl lifting on his lips. Desperately pleading with Remus to stay away.

“Don’t touch me!” A memory snapped at the front of his mind. Words with meaning and warning. Piercing into him like vicious fangs. A deep anger that was waiting to strike him down.

It filled Remus with displeasure. Regulus was acting restless and disrespectful. It would do the pack no good if he kept up that unwanted behavior. A skittish wolf was a dangerous one.

Remus rose to his full height, taking several steps forward, wanting to intimidate Regulus back into compliance. Regulus backed away again, but he kept a defiant gaze on Remus. A taunt. A challenge. A fight.

He narrowed his eyes at the glowing gaze. Regulus’s eyes remained a bright silver. Silver, his brain howled in a panic. Remus knew Regulus had something to do with the foul metal. A skittish wolf was a dangerous one—a threat to the rest of the pack.

Remus bared his teeth and growled in rage. What was Regulus doing with silver? Was this runt trying to kill them? The wolf needed him to go away. Needed to chase him out of his territory before he hurt Prongs or Wormtail or Padfoot. He wasn’t about to risk his pack for some lone wolf that wandered into his home.

He clenched his jaw, took another step forward, and tackled Regulus to the ground.

The other wolf yelped in alarm, scratching at Remus’s arms and snarling with fear. Remus pressed him down in the hopes that he would stay down and yield. Instead, a fierce kick knocked him back. Regulus scrambled to the side to get away.

Remus shot an arm out and dug his nails into the flesh of Regulus’s leg to drag him back. Regulus cried out and kicked his arm away. Remus gritted his teeth against the pain as he let go with a rising fury.

Regulus crawled away, trying to get back on his feet. Remus rushed at him, and they tumbled through the grass and dirt. Kicking and shoving at each other, both wanting to get the upper hand. Nails sank into soft flesh and dragged down harshly, leaving lines of raw red skin.

Remus grabbed Regulus’s shoulders and slammed him down with all his strength. Regulus gasped, the air being knocked right out of him at the impact. He forced all of his weight onto the younger wolf, who attempted to wiggle out of his tight grip. Remus buried his claws into Regulus’s dark hair and pushed his palm into the side of his face. Shoving his head down flat on the dirt.

Regulus squirmed for a moment before his limbs sagged and his grip went slack, where they dug into Remus’s skin. They both breathed heavily, their chest expanded and receded quickly with every lungful of air. With Remus’s heart beating fast and sweat rolling down his temple. They both held very still.

Remus looked down at Regulus’s face, where his hand kept his face on the ground, triumphantly waiting to catch an expression of defeat and obedience.

Half-lidded silver eyes watched him with a watery, helpless gaze. Regulus huffed a few shaky breaths before his throat bobbed nervously. Gulping down worry and fear. Fear of the wolf pinning him down. Fear of the wolf holding him at his mercy. Fear of Remus Lupin.

Remus pulled his hand back swiftly, as if he’d been burned by Regulus’s dirt-stained skin. He watched those frightened, bright eyes dim into a somber ash.

A sharp awareness pulsed in his head. His eyes stung and watered slightly until he blinked with clearer vision. The eclipse had passed. The wolf began to sink back under his skin, taking all his savage rage with him. All that remained of a kindling fire were two burned boys, and Remus had fanned those very flames. A heat of claws and fangs and violence.

Why?

Why were they hurting each other?

“Mr. Lupin! Mr. Black!” A strong, no-nonsense tone loudly exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this?”

Arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him back and away from the prone form splayed on the ground. Remus looked back to see James holding him up. The other Gryffindor watched him with wide eyes.

Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch marched through the pitch to reach them. Lines of disapproval and disappointment wrinkled McGonagall’s face when her eyes took in the scene. Madam Hooch crouched down to help Regulus stand back up. Regulus blinked weary eyes, kept his face blank, and held himself limply.

“Fighting is prohibited on school grounds,” McGonagall scolded. “Lupin, I'm ashamed of you. As a prefect, you should know better; to set an example for the other students.” She turned her gaze on James. “Potter, I know to expect foolishness from you, but this is far from one of your silly pranks.” Finally, she looked over at Regulus. “Black, I have never heard such behavior from you. If you have some concerns with another student, fighting is by no means the way to go about it.”

They all kept quiet. There was nothing any of them could say to defend themselves. Remus could explain the effects of the solar eclipse since both professors were aware of his condition. But that would bring further cause for questioning. It would expose Regulus.

“Thirty points from Gryffindor and fifteen points from Slytherin,” she went on. “You will all serve detention this Friday. Madam Hooch, please escort Black and Lupin to the hospital wing. I will take Potter back to class. I will let Slughorn know what has happened.”

Remus watched James stand by McGonagall as they were led away by Madam Hooch. James gave him a single nod of reassurance, even as his eyes strayed over Remus’s shoulder. And when he turned around to follow after the flying instructor, Remus caught sight of a trailing Regulus.

His robes were rumpled with grass stains, and his green school tie hung loosely over his collarbones. Skin rubbed red and scratched with long, angry lines. Bruises were purpling across a pale complexion. A splotch of dirt painted thin cheeks. Clumps of messy, limp curls fell over gray eyes.

While Remus made sure Regulus’s secret wasn’t tarnished this time, something else was ruined in the process. Regulus watched him like Remus was a creature out of a cautionary tale—a big bad wolf.

“I almost…hurt someone.”

And how was Remus any different? For all of his life, he’d tried to separate himself from the wolf. Remus and Moony were different beings, they had to be. Until they weren’t. Because if Regulus could become a monster, then what was stopping Remus from being one too?

Chapter Text

Regulus held still as Madam Pomfrey dabbed a cloth with healing salve over his bruises. It took a lot of effort not to flinch at each point of contact. Not because the bruises were painful, but due to having someone touch him—even the matron.

She was gentle in her work even as her face frowned in disapproval. It was its own kind of scolding. But it was those careful, kind hands that Regulus didn’t want anywhere near him. As if by touching him, Madam Pomfrey would catch whatever vile curse laid deep underneath his skin. Like he was a disease infecting everyone around him.

Whatever strange buzz of energy he had before quickly drained out of him. All that was left were dregs of anger and sinking guilt. He shouldn’t have felt the wolf’s effects anymore—it was the new moon—but he did. Regulus spent the last few days fighting against his own savage instincts.

His friends had noticed his less-than-civil behavior, tearing down his carefully constructed facade. Regulus snapped at Barty, practically snarling at him for getting too close to his food. He growled at Dorcas for trying to help him after he tripped in the common room. He pushed Evan to the floor when the other boy refused to move out of the way. Worst of all, he visibly flinched away from Pandora’s calming touch.

He wondered when he started seeing his friends as threats. If the werewolf’s instincts demanded Regulus to chase them out of his territory. If he somehow became aware that none of them were his equals. Not anymore. Regulus wasn’t human; he was a monstrous beast. Wizards couldn’t fill the void of a wolf pack. Nothing his friends did could soothe him like it used to. As if the longer he lived as a wolf, the more he became a wild animal. Rational thought began to evade him. This wasn’t something he could solve logically.

The natural order of reality had shifted. Regulus and his friends deluded themselves as long as they could, but he wasn’t sure if he could keep pretending everything was fine. Perhaps it was time to face the truth: Regulus didn’t belong. Again and again, every time he believed things could work out, he was proven wrong.

How did Remus do it? How did someone like him manage to be accepted—by Hogwarts, the Headmaster, the staff, his friends, and family? How did a low-class nobody manage to live the perfect, privileged werewolf life?

Regulus was from a wealthy, noble family. A house full of the most pureblooded, powerful witches and wizards. And now, none of it meant anything to him. Regulus Black from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black—didn’t exist anymore. He was living on borrowed time. On the simplicity of someone else’s life. Playing the part of a Hogwarts student long after he died the night he was bitten. Why did he think he could pretend his life was still normal? Why did he think he could still be a member of wizarding society?

The wolf tore too close to his skin. One wrong move and Regulus could destroy someone else’s life. He didn’t want to be like that. Like the man that made him. The monster who changed him.

Regulus grew into a creature that couldn’t thrive in the wizarding world. There was no place for him here. Being around other people made him dangerous. He shouldn’t be around the other students. Shouldn’t be at Hogwarts. Shouldn’t be near his friends. Shouldn’t be near his brother.

Regulus needed to leave.

“All done, dear,” Madam Pomfrey said, putting away the potion bottles. The disapproving look didn’t leave her face. “I don’t like seeing students injure themselves fighting each other.”

Regulus was tempted to childishly respond, Lupin started it. But he hadn’t been himself lately. He wanted to let the sense of normalcy last for a little longer.

“My apologies. I assure you that it won’t happen again.” Soon, Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t have to deal with two werewolves in Hogwarts.

“I don’t know what caused this fight,” she said, pulling the curtains open, and revealed an equally scolded Remus sitting on the bed across from Regulus. “But I expected better from the both of you. You’re both smart and talented boys. I’m sure you’ll move past this. And I don’t want to see either of you here because of this again.”

She wouldn’t. Not after Regulus was gone.

The matron left to attend to other students, who sat on the other side of the room. They had announced there had been an accident in Herbology class. He could hear their sobs of pain as red blisters covered their bodies. At least the putrid smell of bulbous pus was enough to cover Remus’s scent.

He was begrudgingly grateful for that. Regulus would have gone mad being anywhere near Remus’s primal presence right now.

After his embarrassing breakdown at the Hog’s Head, his instinct had been a mess. The way Regulus froze up in front of the adult werewolf was a testament to the other’s power. Regulus knew he’d be too weak to resist the man’s influence and status as the stronger wolf.

He thought that escaping back to Hogwarts would erase that uncomfortable revelation. With the idea that Hogwarts was a place that could protect him. Like a little kid trying to hide from imaginary monsters.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, when Remus found him in that empty alley in Hogsmeade, that old sense of safety shattered. Remus’s looming form didn’t bring him any comfort. In one quick moment of panic, Regulus had imagined the blue-eyed werewolf cornering him against the stone wall. And Regulus didn’t know what else to do but bite back. And Remus hadn’t liked that one bit. It was then that the truth of the situation finally sank in: Regulus was at the bottom of the werewolf community. Because Remus was already higher on the hierarchy list than Regulus was. He was older and had been a wolf for far longer too.

Then what made him any different from his rotten maker? What was stopping Remus from overpowering Regulus?

They weren’t packmates. They weren’t even friends. The only thing tying them together was the misfortune of being cursed with lycanthropy. And wasn’t that the awful truth? Remus only bothered to be friendly with him because they both harbored a terrible beast.

The only reason Sirius decided to play the role of older brother again was because of Regulus’s sudden disabilities. There was a tense sense of responsibility to him that had nothing to do with who Regulus was and everything to do with who he had become.

Otherwise, none of them would have put in the effort. Neither would have cared about Regulus.

Now he knew that was true, because at the core of their instincts, when Regulus was at his most vulnerable, Remus attacked him. Remus wanted nothing more than to put him in his place. Reminding Regulus that he was far beneath Remus’s authority.

Now he ignored Remus’s attempts to gain his attention. Unlike the last time Regulus was sent to the hospital wing, he wouldn’t indulge Remus’s questions anymore. What happened to Regulus was no longer the other wolf’s business.

When he confessed to Remus about everything he felt when he came face to face with the man that turned him—with the monster that made him—Regulus had been a fool.

The Four of Clubs card came to mind: Beware of deceit or betrayal from someone you trust.

Regulus trusted Remus would offer a sense of comfort and protection. Foolish little boy, the thought returned, there’s no escaping misery. That trust had been broken. He couldn’t count on Remus’s help anymore. All this let him know that he was just someone for others to exert their power over.

He should have never forgotten that the world was against him.

Regulus was left with the understanding that there were two werewolves who could tear him apart whenever they wanted. He was the prey, and they were the predators. Regulus didn’t want to submit to them. To surrender his livelihood to them. No matter what his wolf instincts demanded, his human pride wouldn’t let him.

The doors to the hospital wing opened abruptly. The smell of honey and spearmint wafted through. Although these scents were familiar, Regulus’s body immediately tensed up.

Sirius and Pettigrew were approaching.

Without much thought, he grabbed the curtain and slowly pulled it further across to cover himself from view. From the slight gap, Regulus could see the Gryffindor boys stop by Remus’s bed.

“What happened?” Sirius’s voice carried over through the cloth of the curtain. “James said you got caught in the Quidditch pitch.”

Remus stayed quiet.

“Are you alright?” Sirius’s tone grew softer. “You didn’t actually eat Hagrid’s chickens, did you?”

Regulus closed his eyes. Pathetically pretending Sirius was talking to him and not Remus. Pretending Sirius knew his secret and still cared about him because he was his brother and not because he was a werewolf. It was a childish comfort for all the good that it did.

Again, Remus didn’t answer.

“Come on, Remus,” Pettigrew said. “James didn’t give us any details, but McGonagall said you're going to have detention for fighting.”

“That’s not like you, Moony.” Sirius sounded teasingly chiding. “Who was the unlucky bloke? Wager he didn’t put up much of a fight.”

A hurtful whine wanted to crawl its way up Regulus’s throat, but he swallowed it back down bitterly. Sirius never did think much of him. Poor little Reggie wasn’t worth his brother’s time. That was fine. Sirius wouldn’t have to bother with him anymore.

Another smell caught his attention. It came from the entrance of the room, and all he could focus on was the memory of fresh pine.

A dark, dungeon corridor. The grassy grounds of Hogwarts. Hagrid’s wooden hut. A feathery flock of birds—chickens. A wide field. A cornered wolf. Imprints of claws and fangs hitting flesh and breaking skin. A bespectacled boy yelling at them to stop.

A chill ran down Regulus’s spine. His hands clenched tightly together, nails digging into his palms. Trying hard to keep the dawning horror from appearing on his face.

James was there.

He was in the Quidditch pitch during Regulus and Remus’s fight. How long had he been there? How much did he see? How much did he know?

The image of James holding out a hand towards him in the dungeons flashed in his mind. “You need to come with us,” he had said.

Us.

James and his werewolf friend.

James and the friend he knew was a werewolf.

Regulus’s heart started to beat rapidly. The lingering traces of the wolf bared its teeth defensively against some unfamiliar threat. There was a desperate need to escape. To let the ground swallow him whole and disappear forever.

“Prongs!” Sirius greeted. “Tell us what happened. Remus isn’t saying anything either. What’s with all the secrecy?”

Before James could answer, the door slammed open again. The new smell of cinnamon and dark coffee loosened Regulus’s clenched fists.

“Out of my way,” Barty loudly commanded. The sound of other students grunting with indignation let Regulus know that Barty was pushing his way through the crowd of patients.

“Mr. Crouch!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. “You will treat this hospital wing with respect.”

Barty clicked his tongue. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“What are they doing here?” Sirius muttered.

“Sirius,” James said, rushing through his words. “Listen, it’s nobody’s fault. You need to know that. It’s all a misunder—”

The curtains were pulled open.

“We came as fast as we could,” Barty said, having shoved past James. “We brought your cane too.” He pointed at Evan, who held up the cane for Regulus to see.

Despite the other familiar faces watching him with shock, Regulus couldn’t help but stare at his brother, who stood a few feet away from his bed. Those confused gray eyes turned to him, and all too quick they widened when the recognition set in.

Sirius turned back to look at Remus, who looked away with a semblance of guilt and shame. If Remus wanted pity, then his friends could provide it. Remus hadn’t shown him any mercy during their scuffle, so Regulus wouldn’t either.

“Regulus?” Sirius said, something hollow and eerily steady in his voice. “You got into a fight with my brother?”

James cut in when Remus didn’t answer. “It was a misunderstanding. They were just—”

“He can speak for himself, James.” Sirius stepped away from his friends, moving closer to the middle of the room. His eyes shifted between Remus and Regulus. Torn between which side to stand on.

Regulus wasn’t going to sit around and wait with false hope to be, for once, chosen by someone who was never going to pick him.

If there was one thing he learned when Sirius left for Hogwarts, when he left home, was that Regulus had always been an anchor. A heavy load sinking into the depths of an ocean. Keeping the ships from ever leaving the shoreline.

But a ship wasn’t built to stay chained to the harbor, so Regulus knew he needed to let Sirius go. He was cutting off the string. Severing the line that tied them together. There was only space for one werewolf in his brother’s life.

Regulus wouldn’t be another burden.

“My cane,” was all he said, keeping his own voice monotonous. Devoid of doubt and vulnerability. Never letting anyone know what he was truly feeling.

Evan handed it to him without question. “Dorcas and Pandora are trying to talk Slughorn out of giving you detention,” he told Regulus.

“They’re wasting their time.” Neither did Barty nor Evan help him stand up from the bed, and Regulus was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was to be treated like he was fragile.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sirius moved towards him, his eyebrows furrowed with puzzled irritation. “I want an explanation! Why were you—?”

Barty stepped in front of Regulus, blocking Sirius’s way. “Mind your own business, Black! If anyone’s at fault here, it’s Lupin.”

“Oi!” Pettigrew hid behind James but bravely glared at them over the other boy’s shoulder. “Regulus is as much to blame as Remus is. They're both in trouble.” 

Sirius’s eyes narrowed, keeping careful watch of Barty. “Out of the way, Crouch. This is my business.”

Regulus watched Sirius passively, feigning disinterest. At this point, he wasn’t even sure if it was feigned. Everything came crashing down faster than he could repair it. All Regulus knew was that he was tired. He was giving up.

He calmly walked past Barty and Sirius. “I have nothing to say to you,” he said, not bothering to spare any of them a second glance.

“Sirius, you should give them some space,” he heard James suggest.

But Sirius never could let things sink in silence. It was always loud outbursts with him. “Don’t walk away from this! I need to know what happened. You’re my brother.”

Regulus paused. The cane pressed down on the floor with his tight-fisted grip. He didn’t trouble himself with turning around. He merely looked over his shoulder.

Sirius’s eyes quickly shifted to him, a tense stare begging Regulus to break himself open and spill every horrifying thing that existed inside him. But if he did, a terrible creature would be unleashed. And Regulus found that no matter where he went a monster would always be there. Because he was the monster.

“No,” Regulus said, watching Sirius’s whole body freeze up at his denial. “I’m not.”

With nothing else to say, he faced forward and continued on his way. Barty and Evan followed diligently behind him. Regulus thanked Madam Pomfrey for her service, apologized for his unbecoming behavior, and left the hospital wing without looking back.

Uncle Alphard had been right: you let go of things that can’t grow with you.

Sirius grew up without him, and it was time for Regulus to do the same.

***

“What in Salazar Slytherin’s name happened?” Was the first thing Dorcas said when they arrived at their empty common room. She stood imposingly—arms crossed over her chest with an exasperated expression on her face.

“Too much,” was Regulus’s biting response.

Dorcas ignored his words. “I thought you were sick. Wasn’t that why you stayed in the dormitory?”

Regulus had felt odd this morning. Animalistic instincts had taken over human thought. It was like he’d been blinking in and out of reality. Barty and Evan practically ordered him to skip classes until he felt better. But the dormitory had been too crowded, too small. Like the walls were caving in.

“I needed some fresh air,” he said.

Barty threw himself on a sofa. “I think you got more than fresh air.”

Evan sat next to Barty. “Bruises,” he agreed.

“They’re gone now,” Regulus deadpanned. Aside from Madam Pomfrey’s potions, his accelerated healing ability was perhaps the only good thing to have come out of being a werewolf.

Dorcas approached, and Regulus forced himself not to flinch away when she grabbed his chin. She moved his head from side to side as she examined his face. “No bruises,” she confirmed, then placed her palm over his forehead. “But you look paler than usual. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Although Dorcas didn’t harbor a dangerous beast herself, she radiated confidence and authority. Regulus couldn’t help but feel meek in her presence. Even the wolf understood that Dorcas wasn’t someone you wanted to have as an enemy.

“I am fine,” he gritted out.

Dorcas rolled her eyes, finally letting go of his chin. “Of course you are. That is why you’re going around picking fights?”

“Didn’t seem like much of a fight,” Barty commented, placing his head on Evan’s lap. “Lupin didn’t look too rough. Please tell me you at least won.”

“Lupin? Remus Lupin?” Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “You’re joking.”

“Slughorn didn’t tell you?” Barty raised an eyebrow at her. “Mr. Perfect Prefect got detention for fighting on the Quidditch pitch in the middle of class.”

“Professor Slughorn has the attention span of a puffskein,” Regulus muttered under his breath.

“We saw him,” Evan added, raking his fingers through Barty’s hair. “Lupin was in the hospital wing with Regulus.”

“Slughorn only said that Regulus had detention for fighting on school grounds with some Gryffindor students,” Dorcas said, looking none too pleased with the lack of details she received. “He didn’t give us any names.”

Regulus took a seat on the other sofa. The ache in his ankle became too much to bear after having been on his feet without his cane for too long. “Punishment?” he prompted.

“Polishing cauldrons in Slughorn’s storage room.”

He glanced around the common room, taking note of their missing blue-tied friend. “Where is Pandora?” He wasn’t looking forward to receiving a scolding from her.

“She said she needed to check something in the library.” She quickly frowned at him. “Don’t change the subject. You still haven’t told me why you and Lupin were fighting.”

“Does it matter?” Barty interjected. “I told you those Gryffindors were good for nothing.”

Before Dorcas could inquire more, Pandora came running into the common room. She waved an Astronomy book in her hand. “I figured it out,” she cheered softly.

“Right on time, Pandora,” Evan said with mild amusement, pushing Barty back into a sitting position. “Enlighten us.”

“The sun!” She pointed at the ceiling. They all raised their heads like fools, expecting the roof to open up and reveal the sunlight. “There was a solar eclipse down in Africa,” she explained a second later. “The moon was being rude, showing up during the day. That’s why Reg wasn’t feeling very well this morning.”

And then it clicked. Everything suddenly made sense. Regulus had survived a lunar eclipse. Why didn’t he stop to think that a solar one could also have an effect on him? Because he relied on Remus to keep him informed. He had placed his well-being in the hands of a werewolf who considered Regulus dirt under its paws. That was what he got for trusting no good Gryffindors.

The image of the Four of Clubs card kept invading his thoughts. It made the remnants of the wolf under his skin bristle with the underlying notion of betrayal. Regulus bit his lip harshly, focusing on the pain to make the uncomfortable feeling go away.

Barty snapped his fingers like he’d solved the big mystery. “That’s why you picked a fight with Lupin! Guess he had enough bad luck to run into you while you were being all…wolfy.”

“What?” Pandora blinked, then her eyes sharply caught Regulus’s. “A fight with Lupin?” There was a deeper question hidden under the layer of her concerned tone. Pandora knew that Remus was like him, and both getting into a fight meant more than just a courtyard tussle. Remus hadn’t been a victim of Regulus’s moondrunk haze; they had been two creatures in a battle for power.

And Remus had won.

The wolf yielded to Remus and it made Regulus all the more terrified of how weak he would be if he was ever approached by the man with the icy blue eyes. Regulus would be at the mercy of his maker.

A soft hand touched him, and Regulus flinched back. Pandora stared, wide-eyed, at his sudden reaction. An apology was on the tip of his tongue when the guilt swallowed it down.

The common room door opened again, and a black-haired sixth-year came in. Regulus had to bite on his tongue to stop a vicious snarl from escaping his mouth. He gripped the handle of his cane in a manner that let the others know that he could use it on anyone who came too close.

Snape raised a suspicious eyebrow at them before his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Pandora. “Giving away the common room passwords like they’re sweets, I see,” he sneered. “The dorms were just cleaned, and you’re already letting filth in here.”

Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if the jab was meant for Pandora’s Ravenclaw status or if it was a direct insult to Regulus’s curse. The memory of the tampered goblet itched uncomfortably under his skin. Regulus knew Snape had done it. He wondered when the older Slytherin began to suspect Regulus’s moonlight activities. A morbid, exhausted part of him wished that Snape would pull out his wand, strike him down, and be done with it. The bigger, prideful part of him beat that thought away with a vengeance.

Evan stood up abruptly, hand reaching for his pocket, no doubt to hex Snape, but he was quickly pulled back down by Barty. Barty projected disinterest, like he’d heard better insults. Dorcas crossed her arms and lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. Snape’s earlier boldness shrank under Dorcas’s formidable figure.

No one bothered to explain that they hadn’t needed to give Pandora the Slytherin passwords. She had a way of figuring them out on her own. Not many gave Pandora credit for how clever she was. “I wouldn’t worry about your precious dorm,” she told Snape in the sweetest tone she could muster. “I don’t think anyone would want to go in there. It’s too…slimy.”

“Putrid,” Evan agreed.

“Rotten,” Barty added.

“Moldy.”

“Cheap.”

Snape raised his head high and turned away like he was above arguing with some fifth-year students. And if Regulus lowered his cane to trip Snape on his way to the dorms, then the sixth-year Slytherin was forced to keep his anger to himself.

The arrival of Snape let Regulus know that classes were dismissed and it wouldn’t be long before more Slytherin students began to show up. With their earlier private conversation interrupted, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to escape further interrogation. “When does my detention begin?” He asked with as much dignity as he could. The phrase felt clumsy on his lips. His perfect record was ruined. Not that it would matter. Model student Regulus didn’t exist anymore.

Dorcas sighed, resigned to letting go of her earlier scolding. “You start tomorrow night. A full week.” Her lips thinned, uncertain she should share more but eventually relented, “Remus and James will join you.”

He closed his eyes, thinking why not? What’s another headache on an already long list of problems? The world wanted to prolong his suffering; he just knew it. “Fine,” he said, managing to regain his composure. He hoped it was enough to convince his friends, even if they were starting to suspect Regulus wasn’t as alright as he made them believe. Not that he would ever admit to it.

One more month. One more month to endure before he left all of this behind him. Before he was gone for good. No Quidditch. No O.W.L.s. No hospital wing. No more family. No more friends. No more Hogwarts.

Just Regulus and the monster.

It was only a matter of time.

***

The next day, the afternoon came quicker than Regulus wanted it to.

He tried to distract himself by reading his recent correspondence. Letters sent by his mother were promptly burned. Nothing the Black family had to say was worth his attention. The Prewett brothers continue to keep in contact, inquiring about his health and schooling. Regulus was stumped as to why they still bothered, but perhaps the night of the bite continued to plague the Knight Bus drivers. His most anticipated letter, though, had been from his uncle. The state of affairs Uncle Alphard was working through seemed to have concluded; he was ready to receive Regulus once the school year was over.

Except there wasn’t going to be a Regulus on the Hogwarts Express at the end of term. The letter remained unanswered. He didn’t yet have the heart to reject his uncle’s attempts to give him shelter. He tucked his uncle’s letter under his pillow. While Regulus would soon abandon his plea for help, he was comforted by the knowledge that at least one member of his family had not deserted him entirely. But the plan had changed after all. There was no place for him within the wizarding world. He had to do what all common werewolves did: hide away from society.

In the meantime, after he finished reading his letters. Regulus inspected his cane. There were a few cracks weaving through the dark wood. It had obviously been through some wear and tear. Regulus must have been a bit too careless with it. He might need to consult with Dorcas and Pandora about checking for repairs.

The clock on Evan’s bedside table counted down each precise second, for Evan had an even greater rigidity for punctuality than Regulus did. It announced the remaining hour before Regulus’s detention was due to begin. But Regulus had decided to step out earlier. Better to finish his punishment as quickly as possible to avoid having to remain in Remus or James’s presence longer than he wished to.

The moon was beginning to fill in again, and Regulus could already feel the wolf pace along his skin with restlessness. He was loathed to start another fight with the other werewolf. He needed to keep his head down, remain unnoticed, and disappear without protest.

Evan glanced over at the uneaten stack of dark chocolate that Doracs left out for Regulus. Barty sat on his bed, counting the number of pain-dulling potions they had left. “Want us to go with you?” He offered.

Regulus wrinkled his nose. The thought of his friends escorting him to detention left a sour taste on his tongue. He was lucky none of the other Slytherins had caught on to the incident in the Quidditch field. Dorcas and Pandora did a good job at keeping everything concealed with Slughorn. Perhaps only the older Slytherin prefects were aware, but Regulus doubted they’d care for a random fifth-year student’s melodrama.

“No,” he replied, gripping his cane and heading for the door. “I’ll be back before midnight.”

Regulus took his time strolling down the corridors of Hogwarts. Taking a quiet note, almost nostalgic, of his surroundings. The firmness of gray stone. The portraits on the walls. The torches that illuminate the way through the dungeons. Every time he stepped through these halls, Regulus wondered when it would be for the last time.

At the corner before the corridor leading to the Potion’s classroom, the scent of fresh lilies and green apples assaulted his nose. Regulus paused as a shock of red hair emerged. Bright green eyes widened when they caught sight of him. He leaned against the wall to allow her to pass, but, to his surprise, she stopped right in front of him. The wolf grew agitated under her gaze, and Regulus had to feign a cough to cover up the slight growl that escaped his throat.

“Patrolling the dungeons already?” Regulus managed to say.

Lily Evans, Gryffindor prefect, shook her head. “I’m actually on my way to meet with Emmeline Vance for prefect rounds today since Remus is—”

“I’m aware,” he cut in, not wanting her to say it. They stood in an awkward pause. Regulus waited expectantly for her to leave, but Evans didn’t budge one bit.

“Listen,” she said with a serious look on her face. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Remus—”

No, you most certainly do not, Regulus wanted to snarl.

“—or James and Sirius. But I know, just a few weeks ago, everyone was getting along,” she went on. “Sirius, especially, was happy to have you around.”

Regulus scoffed. “Just a few months ago, Sirius wanted nothing to do with me.” After he ran away from home, Sirius kept his distance. No glances across the Great Hall. No letters. No words to be had. And Regulus understood the message. “Don’t presume to know what you don’t understand.”

“But I do understand.” Evans crossed her arms almost defensively. “I know what it's like being the younger sibling and feeling like nothing you do will be worth the older one’s time.”

The indignant rumble that had been building up in Regulus’s chest instantly froze. The grip on his cane was so tight he was surprised it hadn’t broken yet. Regulus swallowed down the primal urge to rip out Evans’s throat for ever speaking the words. Not because they were wrong but because the sentiments behind them slotted perfectly into place. The assertion rang with an aching truth, and that was all the more threatening. “Don’t try to relate to me,” he snapped.

Evans didn’t take offense to Regulus’s sharp tone. “You’re not the only person in the world with brother problems.”

“You don’t have a brother.” While he didn’t know that for sure, it didn’t matter to Regulus. He simply refused to acknowledge the idea of ‘brother problems’. Denying her statement altogether.

“No,” she admitted softly. “I have a sister.” They remained in silence for a minute, but it was enough for Regulus to understand.

The defeated tone in Evans’s voice when she said the word ‘sister’ resonated with something deep in his heart. It was defeated in a way that conceded to an eternal struggle. Surrendered to some inescapable notion that came with sharing the same blood, the same house, the same name—but never enough to be the same person. And there was an odd resentment that clung between them for being so different, for stretching them in opposite directions. Something recognizable but undefined.

But no matter what happened between them, they could never truly stop caring. Not even a little. Not even at all. Siblings were complicated like that. They could be the best of enemies or the worst of friends. 

Evans sighed and then joined Regulus to lean against the wall. “Most days,” she said, eyes casted down to the floor, “she likes to pretend I don’t exist.”

“And you cannot understand what you did to merit the treatment,” he couldn’t help but admit out loud as the declaration struck a delicate cord within him. That little piece of his soul that still felt human. Where no monster could touch it.

“Like it was all your fault,” she added.

Although the topic of conversation had become more amiable, Regulus’s teeth ached with the desire to sink them into tender flesh, so he let his words do all the biting. “She doesn’t sound like a good sister.”

“No,” she agreed, biting back. “But she’s mine.”

You’re my brother.

No, I’m not.

His heart felt heavy. Threatening to burst from his chest in a bloody mess of grief and guilt. Because, even in his own dejected disappointment, Regulus denied being Sirius’s brother, but he never denied Sirius from being his. When Sirius publicly renounced the Black family, he never renounced Regulus.

They were running in circles. Two incandescent bodies orbiting in a space of nothingness. Fighting against the forces of gravity. Constantly on the cusp of colliding. Time and time again, looking for all the best, for all the worst. Always and forever, desperately seeking that little light in the dark. Regulus and Sirius would never stop reaching for each other.

What did it mean now that the light they so craved seemed to glow like the moon instead of the stars? It left Regulus feeling unbalanced, like the world had tilted on its axis.

“I have to go find Emmeline,” he heard the words distantly, as if Evans was speaking through water. “I’ll see you around, Black. Please try to work things out with the boys and take care of yourself. For Sirius’s sake.” Red hair swooshed behind her as the Gryffindor girl walked away. Regulus hardly registered her departure. Her parting words echoed in his ears.

For Sirius’s sake.

A cane thumped blindly through the corridors, fleeing the walls of the dungeons. The castle was a cage, pressing in, suffocating. Looping up staircases and passing through a door leading out onto the ramparts of a high tower. With one foot after the other, he reached the parapet of the tower. Regulus leaned slightly, out of some incomprehensible curiosity, to check the height of the tower. The length of a drop.

Then, he hauled himself on top of the parapet’s crenellated edges. Cool air swept through his robes, chilling his overheated skin with a momentary relief. The sky was cast in a dark blue hue splattered with hundreds of gleaming dots. Regulus shivered under the bright silver light. Nowadays, he couldn’t watch the stars without the risk of catching sight of the moon.

For Sirius’s sake.

Regulus didn’t look down, keeping his eyes straight ahead, watching the dark greenery of the Forbidden Forest. The wilderness called to him. It whispered of a savage allure. Bloodthirsty. Fierce. Starved. For home. For freedom. It would be so easy to answer its call. To take a step forward…

For Sirius’s sake.

…and disappear with the wind.

Suddenly, a bright light dazzled somewhere in the distance. He screwed up his eyes as it drifted around like a speck of dust, becoming more blinding in its brightness as it got near. Closer and closer it traveled until it was practically sprinting at him, leaving a trail of silver light behind it. Regulus registered the snow-white color of a large, shimmering canine. Fur flowing in different directions, ears held high on its head, massive paws running on air.

In the blink of an eye, the white creature crashed into Regulus before it vanished in a burst of silver radiance. With a startled gasp, he stumbled back. Falling off the parapet with the burning image of a ghostly Grim. He anticipated the harsh impact of concrete stone when he hit the ground. Instead, Regulus collided with the soft muscle of another person. He barely took note of the arms that wrapped around him as they both fell to the floor. The overwhelming smell of sweet cologne, smooth leather, and fresh spearmint made his heart freeze in horror.

Regulus thought his breakdown back at the Hog’s Head was humiliating, but this was much worse. The wolf’s jaws chomped down on Regulus’s panic. Feasting on its dread, its anxiety, its fear. Preparing to pounce on an enemy it couldn’t comprehend. Its own flesh and blood.

“I got you, Reggie,” Sirius whispered, arms squeezing Regulus’s back to his chest.

It was warm and comforting. A touch that was meant to be harmless. But it was a fleeting sensation when Regulus remembered he was poison. Tainting all that was good. Tears threatened to pool in his eyes. The shock of it all burst from his lips in a shaky breath. “Stop,” he choked out, fighting against a growing snarl. “Let go of me!” Regulus elbowed Sirius harshly to escape his hold, clambering away once he was released.

Sirius sat on the floor, wand still held in his hand where he had summoned his Patronus. The worried crease of his brow made Regulus tense even more. Like a cornered animal. Wary. Defensive. It wasn’t like he was going to pitch forward hoping to fall off the tower, he rationalized quickly. Nothing happened. Sirius didn’t need to pull him away. Didn’t need to play the bloody hero.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sirius rose to his feet, his muscles visibly tightening. “You were…why would you…?” He waved his wand over at the parapet, making it clear he’d been appalled at Regulus’s little stunt.

“Nothing happened,” Regulus snapped. The primal apprehension inside him started to leak out. The wolf felt his discomfort just like Regulus could feel its agitation. “Nothing was going to happen.”

Sirius didn’t buy it, choosing to be crass, “Bollocks!”

Regulus hastily grabbed his cane, using it to shield himself. Desperately trying to keep some barrier between them. “Believe what you want. You don’t listen to me. You never listen to me!”

“I am listening,” Sirius spat. “Go ahead, speak. How are you going to talk your way out of this one?” He moved in front of the tower’s entrance, blocking the sight of the door. Sirius lifted a challenging eyebrow. Daring Regulus to run away. To prove he was a coward.

Regulus tightened his fingers around the shaft of his cane, straining against the irritated desire to hit his brother over the head in one fatal blow. The wolf pawed at the thought, craving its violence. Eager for the chance to tear something apart. He grimaced, trying to shake his head against the haze of the moonlight streaking over the tower.

“Isn’t that just delightful?” Regulus spat with venom on his tongue. “You didn’t care before. Why do you care now? Because I’m crippled? Because I’m sick and weak?” Because you’re guilty. Because you see what your absence has done to me.

“Shut up! Don’t say that. I’ve always cared.” Sirius took an angry step forward. “I’m trying to help you.” It almost sounded like a plea, and maybe Regulus would have softened at it but his bones ached with fire and fury.

“I don’t need your help. I didn’t need it back then, and I don’t need it now. You’re the one that ran away from your problems. Not me.”

“Shut up!” Sirius took a few more steps forward, hands clenched at his sides. “This isn’t about me.”

Regulus’s feet nearly jumped, wanting to take a step back. To put some more distance between them. But the savage instincts squeezing his chest itched for a fight. “It’s always about you! Go on then, get on with your life. Isn’t that why you left?” Isn’t that why you’re happier?

“Merlin’s beard, that has nothing to do with this.”

“This all started because of that.” Because I missed you. Because I’m reckless without you.

“Are you saying it's my fault? You want a bloody apology?”

“I don’t!” He really, really wanted to cry. Could feel the heat of it crawling up his throat, screaming ‘when will this be over?’

“Then what do you want, Regulus? What do you want?”

“I want you to leave me alone.” You need to let me go.

“No, I refuse.” Sirius came closer, standing right in front of Regulus. They glared at each other. Neither articulating their true feelings. Dancing around what they really wanted to say.

They were running in circles again. Shouting into the space of nothingness that kept them apart. Hoping the words would somehow reach the other side. To pierce through all the invisible walls until their hearts were left bare. With all the fleshy bits of vulnerability. Leaving a bloody mess. Always a bloody mess.

Regulus and Sirius would never stop reaching for each other. No matter how much it could hurt. But everything was different now. They were on opposite ends of the universe, where they both belonged to different orbits. And the truth was they had to stay away, like two forces repelling each other. It wasn’t a question of desire but a matter of necessity. Because Regulus was afraid. Afraid that one day it would be too much, and he’d snap and hurt his brother. The terrifying possibility of sinking his teeth into Sirius made him queasy.

Remus had been a werewolf far longer than Regulus. He probably had better control—more restraint—something that made him bearable to be around. Less dangerous. Less troublesome. In the six years that Sirius had known him, he’d never been harmed. It wasn’t a risk with Remus, but it was all a gamble with Regulus. Even long before he became a werewolf.

Regulus tried to sidestep Sirius’s bulkier frame to escape the tower, but Sirius clamped down on his cane. He pulled Regulus back and away from the door. They simultaneously grabbed the cane’s wooden shaft with both hands. Holding on to it like it was the only thing keeping them grounded. Keeping them in gravity.

“Let me help you,” Sirius nearly shouted, pushing against the cane—forcing Regulus back. “Talk to me! What happened to you?”

What happened to him? He died. Regulus was dead, and something else was wearing his skin. It twisted and reshaped itself into a beast with an insatiable hunger. A wolf devouring its human form. And Sirius could love a dark creature all he’d like, but it wouldn’t ever change its nature. Not even a little. Not even at all.

Regulus pressed back, desperate to shove Sirius away. To make him let go of the cane and, more importantly, let go of Regulus. 

For Sirius’s sake.

“A monster,” he snarled in answer, exposing a fraction of his heart. Letting Sirius have what was left of his human soul. “A monster happened to me!” All the agony, all the rage, all the fear flooded out of him—witnessed by the light of the moon—when Regulus pushed back with more force, nearly knocking Sirius off his feet. But Sirius refused to let go, arms shaking with the effort to shove back, straining against the cane until something creaked along its surface.

(Something prowled along his skin.)

Pushing and pushing until…

Snap!

The cane clattered to the floor with an echo, torn in half, splintered at its edges. The sound rang inside his ears. Disorienting. Deafening. Lost. Mind blank. Emotions dull. A flame extinguished. A light going out. Plunging everything back into darkness.

Always a bloody mess.

Mechanically, like being led by an Imperius curse, Regulus took an aching step back—

“Reggie, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

—and ran through the door. Escaping the tower. Escaping the moon. Escaping his own rotten heart. He ran back into the sealed castle. Into the cold dungeons. Into a desolate cage. Swallowed up by the shadows. He’d gotten too close to the light and burned in its golden touch.

Perhaps Regulus wasn’t meant to ever see the sun again.