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May. 2nd, 2006 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantYES! Okay, so I got impatient (sorry, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gehayi!!!!!) and posted with one beta. But I had it BETA-ed. Really!
As previously stated, I plan on cutting the chapter length in half from here on out. Like I said before, I'm not compromising the story, or even the telling (I hope)- just trying to get updates out a lot sooner so people aren't totally lost each time I update.
Anyway. Onward!
Title: Accidentally In Love, part 11
Rating: This part is probably PG-13, more for violence than anything else
Summary: Remus helps Regulus make his last stand as Sirius searches for his brother.
Notes: Thanks toaome for the beta!
Accidentally In Love, part 11: Crawling in the Dark
They were sitting at the breakfast table when the rustling of wings interrupted their meal. How had he never recognized the owl? Sirius wondered as Remus removed a message from his leg. He'd seen that owl his fourth year, when his parents had given it to Regulus. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what his brother had named the bloody bird. The owl stroked his head briefly along Remus's hand as Remus scritched him and then offered his toast crust, and Sirius scowled in annoyance. He reminded himself that Remus was just extremely good with animals, but the feeling that Remus knew this owl well kept coming back.
Remus read the message, his face impassive, although Sirius noticed the tiny break in his façade- his knee was shaking just slightly.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You know I can't tell you," Remus said, folding the letter. He penned a quick response. "Come here, Zair." Sirius started as he realized he'd never actually known the name of Regulus's owl.
"What are you smiling at?" he scowled, as Remus watched the owl fly away. "Or can't you tell me?"
Remus looked at him with surprise on his face. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I'm just amused by the name."
"What's so funny about the name Zair?"
"It comes from a Muggle book. I just think it's funny that the owner of the owl-"
"Regulus," Sirius muttered.
"The owner of the owl," Remus corrected, eyebrows arched in warning,"would use a Muggle book as source material. Especially when he was eleven."
"What book was it, anyway?" Sirius demanded.
"Dragonflight. Anne McCaffery."
"Have you read it?" Sirius was wondering how Regulus managed to get his hands on a Muggle book at age eleven.
"No. I'd never even heard of it before I-" Remus suddenly snapped his mouth shut. "Sirius, we really shouldn't be talking about this."
"It's my brother."
"That's not my point." Remus leaned back, his face annoyingly impassive and controlled, except for his eyes. "It's not that it's your brother. It's your safety, and mine, and… other people's. Sirius, you know I can't tell you anything about what I'm doing. I told you that. I shouldn't have even told you as much as I did."
"I know," Sirius sighed. He pulled himself together. Remus was right. If somehow the Death Eaters realized that Remus was a spy… Sirius didn't even want to think about it. And Regulus…. No. That was even more dangerous. And worse. "You're right. I just got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." He stood up and grabbed a paper sack. "Will you be home tonight, or does Fabian have you working?"
"I'm on the lunch shift today," Remus said, sipping his coffee. "If you can hold through until after supper, I'll make your day better." He arched his eyebrows and smiled slyly.
Sirius smiled back, even if he didn't quite feel like it. "Sounds great. I'll see you later, Moony."
"See you tonight."
Sirius dropped a quick kiss on Remus's lips and left.
***
"Longbottom."
Frank looked up as Sirius leaned against the wall of his cubicle. "Black," he returned, with half a grin. "What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if I could borrow a case file from you."
"Who do you need?"
"Black. Regulus."
Frank's face clouded over. "I can't give you that, Sirius."
"Kinns has it?"
"No. I do. But Moody told me not to give it to you."
"Doge let me look at it," Sirius said.
"I know." Frank looked miserable. "And I understand, Sirius. I do. But you're not to be on this case at all."
"Moody doesn't trust me to be able to handle it," Sirius said, stung.
"Well, no, he doesn't," Frank agreed. "And he's right. If it was my sister, I wouldn't be able to handle it. No one's questioning your abilities, Sirius. It's protocol. And it makes sense."
"Come on," Sirius pleaded. "Frank, I have to see it again."
"Sirius, I'm sorry. But no." Frank's face was set firm with resolve, and Sirius knew that no amount of pleading was going to get through to him.
"All right," he said, vague plans to steal the folder off Frank's desk already forming in his mind as he retreated. "I just thought I'd ask."
The thing about Frank Longbottom was he could be incredibly stubborn when he set his mind to something. He wasn't one to back down, unless perhaps Alice was doing the asking (and probably bribing him with sexual favors.) Which was why Sirius was shocked when, that afternoon, Frank stopped by his desk.
"I have Black's case file for you," he said, dropping it on the desk.
Sirius looked up in surprise. "But you said-"
"I have the case file for you," Frank ground out between his teeth. Then he turned and walked away.
Sirius opened it. Contrary to what Moody and Doge and everyone else believed, he wasn't actually trying to get on the case. It was just… it had been so long since he'd seen Regulus. Unbidden, memories came to his mind and for long moments he was locked in his childhood, laughing and arguing with his brother.
The picture was a recent one. Sirius hadn't seen Regulus with his hair cut so short, only an inch from the scalp. The severe style accentuated his sculpted features and ice blue eyes, and made him look years older than he was. And harder, for that matter. Like a face on a wanted poster, except for the eyes. Sirius picked the file up for a closer look, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.
He hadn't meant to look at it- not really. But the date caught his eye. June 15, 1980. Today. He looked at the paper, written in Frank's neat block case. It was a page of Frank's notes, and stated that Regulus would be in the Sterling Artesa- a high-class Wizarding bar that Sirius knew Voldemort's followers frequented.
He stared at the memo for a long time, and then scribbled down the time and place.
***
The water was hot, and Remus's hands were stinging under it as he washed the glasses. He supposed that technically he could spell the glasses clean, but today the burning heat felt good. Necessary. "Very Shakespearean of me," he muttered. "'Is this a dagger I see before me?'"
"Talking to yourself again, Lupin?" Fabian called out.
"I'm the only one who listens," Remus shot back. He shut the water off and picked up a towel and began to dry what he'd washed before it streaked. "By the way, I won't be here tomorrow night. Dumbledore needs me to-" he broke off as he saw the look on Fabian's face: impatience. "What?"
"Again?" Fabian said.
"It's for the Order," Remus reminded him.
"I know. But next week is the full moon, so you won't be on for that, either. Not that I would want you to be," Fabian scowled, and Remus had to bite his lip to keep from scowling back. "I can't pay you for the time you're not here. And I need my staff here to keep this place running."
"I know. But-"
"It's for the Order," Fabian sighed. "Everything's for the Order these days." There was a bitterness and a resignation in his voice that Remus could understand very well. He shrugged helplessly.
"All right," Fabian finally sighed. "I'll get Elsa to cover your shifts. We all have to do what we can. I just wish we were done doing it."
"Me too," Remus agreed wholeheartedly. "Me too."
***
James was pacing, and Sirius watched him eagerly. "Well?" he finally said, when James didn't answer. "What do you think?"
"Sirius…" James said, halting and chewing on a fingernail.
"It's brilliant, isn't it? I mean, I can go and see him and he doesn't even have to know it."
"I've never known you to be so excited about seeing Regulus." James's eyes were wary behind his glasses.
Sirius considered that for all of two seconds. "I know," he said. "But Prongs, he's my brother." And he told himself that James's eyes didn't show any hurt when he said it like that. "And Prongs, if what the Aurors say is true- and I know it is- he's a Death Eater."
James finished with one nail and moved on to the next. "Padfoot, is this really a surprise to you?"
"Yes!" Sirius caught James's skeptical look. "Look, I always knew he was a prat. But a Death Eater? There's a world of difference between the two."
James's face was hard. "Sirius, let's say you go. Let's say he's there, and let's say he doesn't turn away at the sight of you and leave the bar and actually lets you talk to him. What are you going to say? What can you possibly do?"
"I can… I can…" Sirius stumbled over the words. Saying I can convince him to see reason or Tell him not to be a Death Eater sounded stupid, even in his own head. "I can see him again, James," he finally said. "He's my brother."
"I know, Padfoot," James sighed. "It's just…"
"Just what?"
"You're going to get hurt."
"No I'm not." James pursed his lips. "I'm going," Sirius insisted.
"And I'm coming with you."
***
Remus found Regulus in the door of Wandwavers, wet and shivering and looking in a fully foul mood. "I'm shocked you'd even suggest meeting here," he said.
Regulus snarled at him. "It's not like any respectable pureblood would ever be seen in a place like this."
"Given how often I come here with your brother-"
"Piss off, Lupin."
"You're cheerful today."
"I said, piss off."
Remus sighed with exasperation. "You're the one who owled me. You're the one who wanted to meet. You're the one who suggested Wandwavers. What do you want, Regulus?"
"I want to go somewhere where we won't be followed."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "And we're here because?"
Regulus grabbed Remus's hand. "Hang on," he ordered, and Remus felt the tug of side-along Apperation.
"You know," Remus said, as he blinked in the dim light of their destination, "you could have just told me to meet you somewhere else."
"No I couldn't."
Remus looked around. The room they were in was a bedroom. There was a single bed pushed against the wall, a huge, ornately carved wardrobe, a desk covered with textbooks and parchments and dried-up ink bottles. A Quidditch poster hung on one wall, and above the bed was a centerfold of Serena Salwick, dozing in a silk robe and with her blonde hair in curlers. Hogwarts robes hung limply on a hook, the green of a Slytherin Prefect's badge standing out against the black. The room had an unused quality to it, but Regulus was pacing it as if there was nothing unusual about it.
"We're in your parents' house," Remus realized.
"Brilliant. I couldn't have you just show up. And I couldn't take you back to my flat. Too obvious. I thought if we met at Wandwavers and disappeared, at least people would think…"
"I know what people would think," Remus said. Regulus used his wand to illuminate a lamp, and as the light flared Remus could see just how bad he looked. He hadn't shaved in days, and there were dark bags marking the pale skin beneath his eyes. His clothes were rumpled and stained. Remus had never seen Regulus look this unkempt. "What is it?"
Regulus sat down on the bed. "I'm leaving the Death Eaters."
Stunned, Remus gawked at him. "What did you say?"
"I'm leaving the Death Eaters."
"But when we came home from the Soviet Union, I was sure… I mean, for a while I thought you were changing your mind but then…. When we talked about-"
"It's not because of you," Regulus said, looking up at Remus with a sneer. "So don't go getting any grand and noble ideas like that."
"Of course not," Remus said, stung. "Heaven forbid anything a gay, halfblooded werewolf says makes a difference to you."
"Oh, shove it. This isn't about your pride."
"Then what is it about?"
"I want out."
"So get out. Hand in your resignation to your Dark Lord. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. Just something along the lines of 'Dear Voldemort, Fuck you. Love, Regulus.' If you want out, get out."
"For someone who's supposed to be so intelligent, and who is supposed to be spying on the Death Eaters, you're really a bleeding idiot, do you know that?" Regulus said. "It's not that easy."
Realization dawned. "They'll kill you if you desert," Remus said. In truth, he'd known that on some level all along, but had elected not to think about it, because what did that mean for him when this war was won one way or the other?
But Regulus's glare was one of contempt. "Of course they'll kill me, nitwit. I am a dead man walking. I've known that since those guards came at us in the Soviet Union. The Dark… Voldemort," he said deliberately, "knows my loyalty is waning. Nott took me aside two days ago. He told me that I'm under suspicion and if they think that I might desert, they'll kill me. Or my family." He laughed. "It's funny how ineffective their threats can be, isn't it? My father doesn't even know who I am or who he is half the time, and my mother isn't doing much better, either. She tried to make a potion to help him, but…" he shuddered, leaving the sentence hanging. " And Sirius is at the top of their list anyway, being an Auror and all. But it's just the thought." He looked away, and Remus rather thought he was hiding something else.
"You've known all along they'd do that," he said cautiously. "You were there the night they killed my mother."
Regulus nodded. "I know. And I couldn't do it. I've never actually killed anyone. Not until we were in the Soviet Union. I never wanted to. I didn't think it was going to be like this." He glared over at Remus. "And don't ask me what I thought I was getting into. I just didn't think it was going to be like this. Or I thought I could handle it. I don't know what I thought, but I didn't think this." He laced his fingers together and stared down at them. "There's a reason it's called an Unforgivable Curse. I didn't even know them, and I ended their lives. Just like that."
"You can't think about it that way," Remus said, shutting his mind against the image of rock falling down on two Soviet wizards.
"Why not?" Regulus asked. There was a calculating look in his eyes that Remus didn't understand.
"It was their job," Remus insisted. "They knew something like that could happen."
"It was their job. But it wasn't the only part of who they were. They had families and friends and parents and maybe wives and children. And we- I- took all that away with two words."
"Shut up," Remus growled.
"I always wondered why you weren't tempted by Voldemort's offer to have freedom to feed," Regulus continued. "I guess now I understand it. You couldn't live with yourself if you killed someone, could you?"
"Shut up!"
"Have you told anyone about what happened in the Soviet Union, Remus? Have you told them about the rocks falling? Have you told my darling big brother that you killed two men in the service of Voldemort?"
Every muscle in Remus's body tightened, even as a cold sweat broke out across his brow.
"It's not pleasant, knowing for sure that there's a killer lurking inside of you, is it?"
Remus didn't think- he just swung.
The punch was entirely unplanned, but delivered with form and force. He caught Regulus in the jaw, snapping his head to the side. Regulus rolled with the punch and turned back to where Remus stood, clenched and fuming. He smiled, a bloody red smile that looked mad in the dim light.
"You're right, you know," he said. "Nothing a gay, half-blooded werewolf says has any influence on me. But you and I are more alike than I thought. We've both been turned killers. Murderers. Not because we wanted to be, but because someone made us what we are."
Remus pushed him. "Like bloody hell we're alike!" he shouted. "YOU had a choice! YOU entered Voldemort's service voluntarily! YOU didn't have to go this way! I did!"
Regulus's eyes gleamed. "You didn't have to kill those men in the Soviet Union. But that wasn't what I was talking about, because that doesn't bother you, does it? To you, that was war and that was their job and your job and it's all right because the ends justify the means, don't they? I'm just surprised you didn't use Avada Kedavra yourself. But I watch you every time the word 'werewolf' is mentioned. You cringe. You hide. You're not like the other werewolves in Voldemort's service, are you? You don't want this."
"You know nothing about it."
"Oh no? What would you do to not be a werewolf anymore, Remus? What would you give to find some way to get back the life you were supposed to have?"
"That's not relevant. There is no cure."
"All right then. What would you do if you could find the one who made you what you are? What would you do if you knew exactly who he was and why he did it?"
Blood-red fury flooded through him, but this time it was not directed at Regulus. His legs gave out beneath him and he sunk to the floor in a puddle of robes and limp limbs, because he knew what he would do and he'd always known it, and the thought made him sick. Regulus leaned over him, close enough that the folds of his robes brushed against Remus's skin and he could smell the scent of whisky on his breath.
"You'd kill him, wouldn't you?" Regulus whispered. "There's nothing you can do to undo the past. You're a werewolf, and a werewolf you'll stay. I used an Unforgivable Curse not once, not twice, but three times, and I can't change that, either. Nothing can bring them back to life, and even if it could, nothing could change the fact I did it. But if you could get revenge… if you could take the bastard down…."
"In a heartbeat," Remus whispered back.
"Exactly. I have to die to get out of the Death Eaters, Remus. But some things are more important than that. I might have to go, but I'm taking a piece of Voldemort down with me."
***
The bar was very high-class, with polished chrome and mirrors and soft lighting. Expensive bottles of liquor lined the walls, and a wizard with black robes served patrons. Sirius found himself lapsing quiet, falling back into the manners his mother had tried so hard to instill in him. Beside him, James shifted uncomfortably. Sirius saw him toying with a frayed cuff of his robe.
"If this place was any stuffier, I'd be getting a nosebleed," James said.
"The funny thing is you probably have more money than most of them." Sirius twirled the stem of his wine glass between his fingers.
"Yeah, but I don't act it."
"No, you save your conceit for everything else," Sirius laughed.
"My looks, my charm, my intelligence, my sexual prowess, and Quidditch," James agreed cheerfully.
Sirius laughed again, but his eyes were darting around the bar, looking for Regulus. He noticed that the average age of the patrons was well over thirty, and wondered what would attract someone as young as Regulus here. He recognized some faces, but not many. "It's been a long time since I was in pureblood society."
"Can't say I blame you."
The silence that fell between them was awkward. James drummed his fingers on the glass top of the table, and Sirius surveyed the place again. He wondered how many people here were working for Voldemort. He almost opened his mouth to say as much to James and then closed it again, because saying something like that in the den of the enemy would be beyond stupid. Like this whole idea. This idea was stupid.
"Padfoot," James's voice broke into his thoughts. "You're going to drive me crazy, the way you're tapping your foot. Are you sure you want to be here?"
"Yes," Sirius lied.
"We can go," James said. "It's not like he even knows you'll be here, and what if he doesn't show up? Come on, Padfoot. We'll go back to my place and owl Remus and Peter if you like and play Exploding Snap and drink cheap booze until dawn."
"No."
James sighed.
The door opened, letting in a cool draft of air, and Sirius jerked around to see who entered. It was just another man escorting a woman, not a furtive teenager meeting a friend or a group of friends. He slumped in disappointment.
"Padfoot-"
"Don't even say it. I'm getting another drink."
***
Silence stretched for what seemed an eternity. The burning finally subsided, leaving cinders of shame. Unconsciously, Remus rubbed at his hand. The knuckles were split. Regulus saw the gesture and smiled. He'd healed his mouth and cleaned himself up, but Remus could still see traces of blood lingering on the gums.
"So what are you going to do?" he asked.
"I can't tell you," Regulus said. "But I need your help."
"How am I supposed to help you if you won't tell me what you're doing?"
Regulus chewed on his lip nervously. "That's the rub, isn't it? I can't tell you what I'm doing for a lot of reasons. That's why I needed you to understand how serious I am about doing this. You have to know."
"I believe you," Remus said truthfully.
"The problem is that you're staying in the Death Eaters for Dumbledore. Right?"
"What else would I do? I seriously doubt you're begging me to run away with you."
"Very funny. But if you know too much, it's a danger to you."
Remus goggled at Regulus. "Since when have you cared about what happens to me?"
Regulus stood up and walked over to the window. The moonlight illuminated the raindrops pounding against the glass, streaking tears of condensation down the panes. "I got into the Death Eaters with people I thought were my friends," he said finally. "I thought they were a second family. But only one person thought enough of me to tell me what people were planning, and that I was slipping. When we were in the Soviet Union, you…" he trailed off and shrugged. "You know, if things had been different- no, if I had been different, I think I might have liked you."
Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Regulus didn't notice, as he was rooting through a nightstand and pulling out crumpled pieces of parchment. "We have to do it tonight," Regulus said. "It's going to take a few days-"
"We need to be done by Wednesday. Full moon."
"Your part will be done tonight," Regulus said, and Remus realized that he'd just agreed to his plan, no matter what. The realization sent a shaft of ice water into his stomach, and his fingers convulsed in the folds of his robes. Regulus was still sifting through parchments, muttering to himself in Russian.
"Taking no chances," Remus whispered.
Regulus looked up for a second and smiled wryly before going back to his plans.
A strange sort of calm fell over the room and surged through Remus himself. He struggled to his feet, surprised to find his legs would now support him, and walked over to the window. The pavement outside glistened in the light of the Muggle street lamps, and he could hear the sound of the rain and the wind. In the distance, there was a low rumble of thunder, accented by the sharp rustling of the papers. He thought idly of Sirius, and that tonight they'd meant to stay in bed, and that Sirius was likely sitting at home now, waiting for Remus to show up. The thought of Sirius sitting at their kitchen table or on the couch waiting for him left a cold lump in his stomach, but this was important. Too important. More- no. Not more. But different.
"I think Sirius always hated the view."
Remus turned to see Regulus still sitting on his bed, watching him.
"What makes you say that?"
Regulus rested his chin on his hand. "When we were little, there was an apple tree outside of Sirius's room. Mother and Father had it cut down when he was in his second year. I saw him looking out the window at the stump, and he said the only thing that had ever made this place bearable was the tree."
"He used to shimmy down it to get outside," Remus said. "It wasn't the view he hated, I don't think. It was the fact that it was an entire world denied to him."
"Father only wanted to keep him safe. At least, that's what he said." Regulus stood up and joined Remus at the window. "The thing is, he meant it."
Remus thought of his own father, wound up so tight in fear and angry at the world. "I know," he said sadly.
They stood in silence, watching the rain explode into teardrops against the window panes. Finally, Regulus spoke.
"I'm ready," he said. "I've got everything I need, except one thing."
"What's that?"
"I need you to take an Unbreakable Vow."
Ice flooded Remus's throat and stomach. "I'll do no such thing."
Regulus met his eyes evenly. "Yes, you will."
"What makes you think that?"
Regulus's eyes weren't gray, but they reminded Remus of steel anyway. "I need to be sure I can trust you to do what I say, without question."
"What are you going to ask me to do?" Remus said, wary. Regulus just stared him down, and Remus sighed. "You can't tell me that. Otherwise you wouldn't ask me to make an Unbreakable Vow." Regulus nodded tightly. "How would we do it? We need a bonder."
"My father is here."
"He'd remember me."
"No. He wouldn't." Regulus's words were clipped short. "I need to you do it."
Remus broke the gaze and looked out the window again. "Can't you trust me?" he asked.
"I don't," Regulus admitted.
"Fine," Remus sighed, and his soul twisted. "I'll trust you."
***
He hadn't seen Arden Black in years, not since that terrible Easter at the Potters in their fifth year. The tall, formidable, terrifying man he remembered was gone, replaced by a thin, wiry gray-haired man with shifting eyes and musty robes. He was sitting in the library, a book in his lap.
"Father," Regulus said, kneeling beside the chair. Remus stood over Regulus's shoulder, and from where he stood he could see the book had gory illustrations. Arden Black looked at his son with rheumy eyes and grasped his hand. Regulus covered the hand with his own. "How are you, Father?"
"I didn't know you were home, Regulus." Mr. Black's voice was softer than Remus had ever heard it.
"I just came home for the night. Father, I need some help."
"What sort of help do you need?"
"It's something I need to do for the Dark Lord," he said, and Mr. Black's face lit up with obvious pride. "It's important," Regulus said, "but it's also very important that it remains secret."
"Whatever the Dark Lord commands, of course," Mr. Black agreed. His eyes flicked up to Remus- a brief, searching glance that seemed like a vague attempt at recognition. Remus could almost see the mental shrug and dismissal as he turned his attention back to his son. "What do you need?"
"A Bonder for an Unbreakable Vow."
If Remus had asked that of his own father, his eyebrows would have shot to his hairline and an inquisition would have followed. Mr. Black simply nodded, as if Regulus had asked if he could make a ham sandwich. "Do you have my wand?"
"I do." Regulus disentangled himself and crossed the library. He pulled out a book and tapped it, murmuring the incantation for a Transfiguration spell. The book became a box, and Regulus fished a stone out from a chain around his neck. He pressed the stone into an indentation, and the box sprang open. Remus saw him take something gold out of the box and stuff it in his pocket, and then he removed a long oak wand and handed it to his father.
Mr. Black's eyes lit up and he trailed his fingers down the wood. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes."
Remus backed away.
"One spell, Father," Regulus said, in a voice that was almost sing-song. "Remember. You promised Mother."
Mr. Black's eyes were fixed on the wand, wide open and intent. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and Remus suddenly found swallowing very, very difficult.
You're insane, he told Regulus mentally. HE'S insane. But Regulus just grabbed Remus's hand.
"Are you ready, Father?"
Mr. Black snapped out of his trance. "Yes."
"All right." Regulus turned to face Remus, and Remus felt Mr. Black's wand trained on him. "Do you swear to obey me, without question, until my task is complete?"
Everything in Remus's body was longing to scream NO!, to snatch his hand back, and to break out of this house and run until his lungs exploded and his body collapsed. And yet… he closed his eyes. "I swear it."
He waited for Regulus to add on something more, but there was nothing, nothing but the fire wreathing their conjoined hands and sending heat up his arm. He tried to pull his hand away but it was immobile, locked in Regulus's grip until the fire died out. When it did, Remus found himself sprawled on the floor. He struggled to his feet, frantically dusting off his robes and looking at Regulus, expecting to see the usual countenance of scorn. However, Regulus's attention was entirely focused on his father.
"I need the wand back now, Father."
Mr. Black drew the wand against his chest. "No."
"Yes. You know the rules, Father. You're only allowed to have your wand if you give it back."
"You can't make me give it back."
"Yes, I can."
"No. You can't." Mr. Black's voice had sunk to a ragged hiss and he backed up against the shelves as Regulus advanced on him. "It's mine. Mine. I am your father and you will listen to me."
"Yes, Father. But you will give me the wand."
"No. NO!" As Regulus reached out, Mr. Black darted to the side, evading his son's hand. "It's mine, you little brat! I am your father and you will listen to me!" The back of his hand struck Regulus across the cheek.
Regulus rolled with the blow and came up immediately, wand in hand. "Stupify!" he cried, and Arden Black sank to the ground, unconscious. Regulus dropped to his knees beside him, prying the wand from his now limp fingers.
"Is he…?" Remus began, but he couldn't finish the sentence. He wasn't sure what the end of the sentence was.
"He's fine," Regulus said. He replaced the wand in its hiding place and then used his own wand to levitate his father to a couch. He carefully covered the man with an afghan and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Let's go."
"But your father-" Remus wanted to argue, but an unpleasant heat surged through him, making him dizzy. The Unbreakable Vow. He gripped his head in his hands until the pain subsided. Regulus simply raised an eyebrow, and then left the room.
Remus followed. "He'll be all right?" he finally dared, when they were back in the safety of Regulus's bedroom.
"He'll be fine. He's been like this for the past two years. This was a good day for him," Regulus said. He picked up a bag and rifled through it, checking the contents. "If you really must know, there was an accident in the Department of Mysteries."
"So that Quibbler article was true?"
Regulus made a face. "I wouldn't know. I never read that rubbish. But it wouldn't surprise me if someone had gotten hold of the story."
"Sirius-"
"Sirius doesn't know," Regulus said, his voice dripping with scorn as he fastened the clasps on the bag and set it on the floor. "Sirius doesn't know a thing that goes on beyond these walls. Sirius cares nothing for this family."
"So he'd like everyone to believe," Remus muttered. "Including himself."
"Well, he's successful then, isn't he? We're going now. I sure hope you can swim."
***
By the time he'd had three drinks, there was a looseness in his limbs and Moody's voice roaring in his head. Yet Sirius couldn't force himself to leave the place. Every time the door opened he jumped, heart in his throat, and it seemed like it sank lower and lower each time Regulus didn't enter. James's eyes were growing darker and a line was appearing between his brows, a sure sign that he was agitated.
An hour after Regulus was supposed to appear, Sirius was on his fifth drink. But even through the haze of the alcohol, a little clarity made itself heard. There were a lot of faces in here that looked familiar- a lot of faces that were on case files that required investigation.
James must have been thinking along the same lines. He didn't say anything. He couldn't- not here. But his fist kept clenching around his wand.
"Look, Sirius," James said awkwardly when Sirius sank back into his seat after jumping up as the door opened. "Don't take it personally. Maybe something came up. Maybe he decided not to come. After all, he didn't know you were going to be here. It's not like you arranged to meet."
"I know," Sirius sulked. He tried to pull himself together. "Let me get one more drink and then we'll go. I'll say this for the Death Eaters- they have good booze."
"Maybe you'd better not," James said, his knuckles turning white. "Maybe we should just get out of here."
He wanted to argue, but the Moody part of Sirius's mind realized that James was right. "All right." He fumbled for his wallet and left a few Sickles on the table and stood up, much to James's relief.
Several things happened at once, and Sirius would have been hard-pressed to put a sequence to the events. The door flew open, and then slammed shut again. Several Death Eaters stood to block their exit. Where before there had only been people in regular robes, these were dressed in the black robes and wearing the eerie white masks. There was the crack of Apparation, and a tall, thin man with a hood shadowing his face stood in front of them.
"Voldemort," James breathed.
A Death Eather pointed a wand, and suddenly James was on the floor, writhing with the pain of the Cruciatus curse. "Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" the Death Eater cried.
Sirius had seen Remus bleeding and burnt and dying. He'd seen Peter with a broken heart. He'd seen his family fall to pieces. He'd seen his adoptive parents burnt alive. He'd seen people hurt and dying in any number of ways in his work. But few things had ever felt like this- this tearing, fiercely protective pain that howled as if it were a part of himself under the Cruciatus.
The bottles of liquor behind the bar shattered, sending glass and alcohol spraying through the air. Sirius forgot all training, forgot all magic- he just launched himself at the Death Eater torturing James. Their bodies met with the dull thud of a collision, and they went sprawling to the ground. He swung and his fist connected with the Death Eater's mask, sending the mask flying and breaking the skin on his knuckles. The face beneath the mask made him gasp.
Bellatrix.
He hesitated for just a moment; the belief that he should not hit a woman was ingrained too deeply in him for quick action. It was enough, and her nails raked across his face. That startled away any sense of chivalry Sirius; he grabbed for her throat with one hand and her wand with the other. Her wand went flying across the room.
They rolled over, and magic was forgotten as they fought by skin, tooth, and nail; with Bellatrix, the last two were quite literal as opposed to figurative.) Sirius tasted blood in his mouth as one of her blows struck him across the jaw, and spat it in her face. She struggled against him and then her hands closed around his throat; and the world began to blur as she squeezed. He heard distorted laughter and James shouting, and then a shriek of pain from James.
"Enough!"
Everything stopped, even Sirius. The voice that spoke was raspy and had a snake-like to it, and it cut through the clamor and froze the blood like nothing that Sirius had ever heard before.
"Hold him," Voldemort commanded again.
A Death Eater swished his wand, and Sirius was held with a Full Body-Bind. He tried to grind his teeth in frustration- it was a spell he'd known as a first year, for Merlin's sake. But the spell held him fast; whoever was casting it was strong. Voldemort stepped forward and cast off his hood, and Sirius nearly choked on his own tongue.
Red eyes. High, etched cheekbones. Cold skin, white as death. Sirius had thought he'd understood that phrase before- he'd seen dead people and near-dead people- but he hadn't until now. Voldemort smiled at him, although
smile" seemed to not be quite the word Sirius wanted.
"Sirius Black," he sneered. "The great Auror. Caught quite easily, weren't you?"
And that was when it finally sank in that the entire thing was a trap.
On to Part 2
gehayi!!!!!) and posted with one beta. But I had it BETA-ed. Really!As previously stated, I plan on cutting the chapter length in half from here on out. Like I said before, I'm not compromising the story, or even the telling (I hope)- just trying to get updates out a lot sooner so people aren't totally lost each time I update.
Anyway. Onward!
Title: Accidentally In Love, part 11
Rating: This part is probably PG-13, more for violence than anything else
Summary: Remus helps Regulus make his last stand as Sirius searches for his brother.
Notes: Thanks to
aome for the beta!Accidentally In Love, part 11: Crawling in the Dark
They were sitting at the breakfast table when the rustling of wings interrupted their meal. How had he never recognized the owl? Sirius wondered as Remus removed a message from his leg. He'd seen that owl his fourth year, when his parents had given it to Regulus. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what his brother had named the bloody bird. The owl stroked his head briefly along Remus's hand as Remus scritched him and then offered his toast crust, and Sirius scowled in annoyance. He reminded himself that Remus was just extremely good with animals, but the feeling that Remus knew this owl well kept coming back.
Remus read the message, his face impassive, although Sirius noticed the tiny break in his façade- his knee was shaking just slightly.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You know I can't tell you," Remus said, folding the letter. He penned a quick response. "Come here, Zair." Sirius started as he realized he'd never actually known the name of Regulus's owl.
"What are you smiling at?" he scowled, as Remus watched the owl fly away. "Or can't you tell me?"
Remus looked at him with surprise on his face. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I'm just amused by the name."
"What's so funny about the name Zair?"
"It comes from a Muggle book. I just think it's funny that the owner of the owl-"
"Regulus," Sirius muttered.
"The owner of the owl," Remus corrected, eyebrows arched in warning,"would use a Muggle book as source material. Especially when he was eleven."
"What book was it, anyway?" Sirius demanded.
"Dragonflight. Anne McCaffery."
"Have you read it?" Sirius was wondering how Regulus managed to get his hands on a Muggle book at age eleven.
"No. I'd never even heard of it before I-" Remus suddenly snapped his mouth shut. "Sirius, we really shouldn't be talking about this."
"It's my brother."
"That's not my point." Remus leaned back, his face annoyingly impassive and controlled, except for his eyes. "It's not that it's your brother. It's your safety, and mine, and… other people's. Sirius, you know I can't tell you anything about what I'm doing. I told you that. I shouldn't have even told you as much as I did."
"I know," Sirius sighed. He pulled himself together. Remus was right. If somehow the Death Eaters realized that Remus was a spy… Sirius didn't even want to think about it. And Regulus…. No. That was even more dangerous. And worse. "You're right. I just got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." He stood up and grabbed a paper sack. "Will you be home tonight, or does Fabian have you working?"
"I'm on the lunch shift today," Remus said, sipping his coffee. "If you can hold through until after supper, I'll make your day better." He arched his eyebrows and smiled slyly.
Sirius smiled back, even if he didn't quite feel like it. "Sounds great. I'll see you later, Moony."
"See you tonight."
Sirius dropped a quick kiss on Remus's lips and left.
***
"Longbottom."
Frank looked up as Sirius leaned against the wall of his cubicle. "Black," he returned, with half a grin. "What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if I could borrow a case file from you."
"Who do you need?"
"Black. Regulus."
Frank's face clouded over. "I can't give you that, Sirius."
"Kinns has it?"
"No. I do. But Moody told me not to give it to you."
"Doge let me look at it," Sirius said.
"I know." Frank looked miserable. "And I understand, Sirius. I do. But you're not to be on this case at all."
"Moody doesn't trust me to be able to handle it," Sirius said, stung.
"Well, no, he doesn't," Frank agreed. "And he's right. If it was my sister, I wouldn't be able to handle it. No one's questioning your abilities, Sirius. It's protocol. And it makes sense."
"Come on," Sirius pleaded. "Frank, I have to see it again."
"Sirius, I'm sorry. But no." Frank's face was set firm with resolve, and Sirius knew that no amount of pleading was going to get through to him.
"All right," he said, vague plans to steal the folder off Frank's desk already forming in his mind as he retreated. "I just thought I'd ask."
The thing about Frank Longbottom was he could be incredibly stubborn when he set his mind to something. He wasn't one to back down, unless perhaps Alice was doing the asking (and probably bribing him with sexual favors.) Which was why Sirius was shocked when, that afternoon, Frank stopped by his desk.
"I have Black's case file for you," he said, dropping it on the desk.
Sirius looked up in surprise. "But you said-"
"I have the case file for you," Frank ground out between his teeth. Then he turned and walked away.
Sirius opened it. Contrary to what Moody and Doge and everyone else believed, he wasn't actually trying to get on the case. It was just… it had been so long since he'd seen Regulus. Unbidden, memories came to his mind and for long moments he was locked in his childhood, laughing and arguing with his brother.
The picture was a recent one. Sirius hadn't seen Regulus with his hair cut so short, only an inch from the scalp. The severe style accentuated his sculpted features and ice blue eyes, and made him look years older than he was. And harder, for that matter. Like a face on a wanted poster, except for the eyes. Sirius picked the file up for a closer look, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.
He hadn't meant to look at it- not really. But the date caught his eye. June 15, 1980. Today. He looked at the paper, written in Frank's neat block case. It was a page of Frank's notes, and stated that Regulus would be in the Sterling Artesa- a high-class Wizarding bar that Sirius knew Voldemort's followers frequented.
He stared at the memo for a long time, and then scribbled down the time and place.
***
The water was hot, and Remus's hands were stinging under it as he washed the glasses. He supposed that technically he could spell the glasses clean, but today the burning heat felt good. Necessary. "Very Shakespearean of me," he muttered. "'Is this a dagger I see before me?'"
"Talking to yourself again, Lupin?" Fabian called out.
"I'm the only one who listens," Remus shot back. He shut the water off and picked up a towel and began to dry what he'd washed before it streaked. "By the way, I won't be here tomorrow night. Dumbledore needs me to-" he broke off as he saw the look on Fabian's face: impatience. "What?"
"Again?" Fabian said.
"It's for the Order," Remus reminded him.
"I know. But next week is the full moon, so you won't be on for that, either. Not that I would want you to be," Fabian scowled, and Remus had to bite his lip to keep from scowling back. "I can't pay you for the time you're not here. And I need my staff here to keep this place running."
"I know. But-"
"It's for the Order," Fabian sighed. "Everything's for the Order these days." There was a bitterness and a resignation in his voice that Remus could understand very well. He shrugged helplessly.
"All right," Fabian finally sighed. "I'll get Elsa to cover your shifts. We all have to do what we can. I just wish we were done doing it."
"Me too," Remus agreed wholeheartedly. "Me too."
***
James was pacing, and Sirius watched him eagerly. "Well?" he finally said, when James didn't answer. "What do you think?"
"Sirius…" James said, halting and chewing on a fingernail.
"It's brilliant, isn't it? I mean, I can go and see him and he doesn't even have to know it."
"I've never known you to be so excited about seeing Regulus." James's eyes were wary behind his glasses.
Sirius considered that for all of two seconds. "I know," he said. "But Prongs, he's my brother." And he told himself that James's eyes didn't show any hurt when he said it like that. "And Prongs, if what the Aurors say is true- and I know it is- he's a Death Eater."
James finished with one nail and moved on to the next. "Padfoot, is this really a surprise to you?"
"Yes!" Sirius caught James's skeptical look. "Look, I always knew he was a prat. But a Death Eater? There's a world of difference between the two."
James's face was hard. "Sirius, let's say you go. Let's say he's there, and let's say he doesn't turn away at the sight of you and leave the bar and actually lets you talk to him. What are you going to say? What can you possibly do?"
"I can… I can…" Sirius stumbled over the words. Saying I can convince him to see reason or Tell him not to be a Death Eater sounded stupid, even in his own head. "I can see him again, James," he finally said. "He's my brother."
"I know, Padfoot," James sighed. "It's just…"
"Just what?"
"You're going to get hurt."
"No I'm not." James pursed his lips. "I'm going," Sirius insisted.
"And I'm coming with you."
***
Remus found Regulus in the door of Wandwavers, wet and shivering and looking in a fully foul mood. "I'm shocked you'd even suggest meeting here," he said.
Regulus snarled at him. "It's not like any respectable pureblood would ever be seen in a place like this."
"Given how often I come here with your brother-"
"Piss off, Lupin."
"You're cheerful today."
"I said, piss off."
Remus sighed with exasperation. "You're the one who owled me. You're the one who wanted to meet. You're the one who suggested Wandwavers. What do you want, Regulus?"
"I want to go somewhere where we won't be followed."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "And we're here because?"
Regulus grabbed Remus's hand. "Hang on," he ordered, and Remus felt the tug of side-along Apperation.
"You know," Remus said, as he blinked in the dim light of their destination, "you could have just told me to meet you somewhere else."
"No I couldn't."
Remus looked around. The room they were in was a bedroom. There was a single bed pushed against the wall, a huge, ornately carved wardrobe, a desk covered with textbooks and parchments and dried-up ink bottles. A Quidditch poster hung on one wall, and above the bed was a centerfold of Serena Salwick, dozing in a silk robe and with her blonde hair in curlers. Hogwarts robes hung limply on a hook, the green of a Slytherin Prefect's badge standing out against the black. The room had an unused quality to it, but Regulus was pacing it as if there was nothing unusual about it.
"We're in your parents' house," Remus realized.
"Brilliant. I couldn't have you just show up. And I couldn't take you back to my flat. Too obvious. I thought if we met at Wandwavers and disappeared, at least people would think…"
"I know what people would think," Remus said. Regulus used his wand to illuminate a lamp, and as the light flared Remus could see just how bad he looked. He hadn't shaved in days, and there were dark bags marking the pale skin beneath his eyes. His clothes were rumpled and stained. Remus had never seen Regulus look this unkempt. "What is it?"
Regulus sat down on the bed. "I'm leaving the Death Eaters."
Stunned, Remus gawked at him. "What did you say?"
"I'm leaving the Death Eaters."
"But when we came home from the Soviet Union, I was sure… I mean, for a while I thought you were changing your mind but then…. When we talked about-"
"It's not because of you," Regulus said, looking up at Remus with a sneer. "So don't go getting any grand and noble ideas like that."
"Of course not," Remus said, stung. "Heaven forbid anything a gay, halfblooded werewolf says makes a difference to you."
"Oh, shove it. This isn't about your pride."
"Then what is it about?"
"I want out."
"So get out. Hand in your resignation to your Dark Lord. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. Just something along the lines of 'Dear Voldemort, Fuck you. Love, Regulus.' If you want out, get out."
"For someone who's supposed to be so intelligent, and who is supposed to be spying on the Death Eaters, you're really a bleeding idiot, do you know that?" Regulus said. "It's not that easy."
Realization dawned. "They'll kill you if you desert," Remus said. In truth, he'd known that on some level all along, but had elected not to think about it, because what did that mean for him when this war was won one way or the other?
But Regulus's glare was one of contempt. "Of course they'll kill me, nitwit. I am a dead man walking. I've known that since those guards came at us in the Soviet Union. The Dark… Voldemort," he said deliberately, "knows my loyalty is waning. Nott took me aside two days ago. He told me that I'm under suspicion and if they think that I might desert, they'll kill me. Or my family." He laughed. "It's funny how ineffective their threats can be, isn't it? My father doesn't even know who I am or who he is half the time, and my mother isn't doing much better, either. She tried to make a potion to help him, but…" he shuddered, leaving the sentence hanging. " And Sirius is at the top of their list anyway, being an Auror and all. But it's just the thought." He looked away, and Remus rather thought he was hiding something else.
"You've known all along they'd do that," he said cautiously. "You were there the night they killed my mother."
Regulus nodded. "I know. And I couldn't do it. I've never actually killed anyone. Not until we were in the Soviet Union. I never wanted to. I didn't think it was going to be like this." He glared over at Remus. "And don't ask me what I thought I was getting into. I just didn't think it was going to be like this. Or I thought I could handle it. I don't know what I thought, but I didn't think this." He laced his fingers together and stared down at them. "There's a reason it's called an Unforgivable Curse. I didn't even know them, and I ended their lives. Just like that."
"You can't think about it that way," Remus said, shutting his mind against the image of rock falling down on two Soviet wizards.
"Why not?" Regulus asked. There was a calculating look in his eyes that Remus didn't understand.
"It was their job," Remus insisted. "They knew something like that could happen."
"It was their job. But it wasn't the only part of who they were. They had families and friends and parents and maybe wives and children. And we- I- took all that away with two words."
"Shut up," Remus growled.
"I always wondered why you weren't tempted by Voldemort's offer to have freedom to feed," Regulus continued. "I guess now I understand it. You couldn't live with yourself if you killed someone, could you?"
"Shut up!"
"Have you told anyone about what happened in the Soviet Union, Remus? Have you told them about the rocks falling? Have you told my darling big brother that you killed two men in the service of Voldemort?"
Every muscle in Remus's body tightened, even as a cold sweat broke out across his brow.
"It's not pleasant, knowing for sure that there's a killer lurking inside of you, is it?"
Remus didn't think- he just swung.
The punch was entirely unplanned, but delivered with form and force. He caught Regulus in the jaw, snapping his head to the side. Regulus rolled with the punch and turned back to where Remus stood, clenched and fuming. He smiled, a bloody red smile that looked mad in the dim light.
"You're right, you know," he said. "Nothing a gay, half-blooded werewolf says has any influence on me. But you and I are more alike than I thought. We've both been turned killers. Murderers. Not because we wanted to be, but because someone made us what we are."
Remus pushed him. "Like bloody hell we're alike!" he shouted. "YOU had a choice! YOU entered Voldemort's service voluntarily! YOU didn't have to go this way! I did!"
Regulus's eyes gleamed. "You didn't have to kill those men in the Soviet Union. But that wasn't what I was talking about, because that doesn't bother you, does it? To you, that was war and that was their job and your job and it's all right because the ends justify the means, don't they? I'm just surprised you didn't use Avada Kedavra yourself. But I watch you every time the word 'werewolf' is mentioned. You cringe. You hide. You're not like the other werewolves in Voldemort's service, are you? You don't want this."
"You know nothing about it."
"Oh no? What would you do to not be a werewolf anymore, Remus? What would you give to find some way to get back the life you were supposed to have?"
"That's not relevant. There is no cure."
"All right then. What would you do if you could find the one who made you what you are? What would you do if you knew exactly who he was and why he did it?"
Blood-red fury flooded through him, but this time it was not directed at Regulus. His legs gave out beneath him and he sunk to the floor in a puddle of robes and limp limbs, because he knew what he would do and he'd always known it, and the thought made him sick. Regulus leaned over him, close enough that the folds of his robes brushed against Remus's skin and he could smell the scent of whisky on his breath.
"You'd kill him, wouldn't you?" Regulus whispered. "There's nothing you can do to undo the past. You're a werewolf, and a werewolf you'll stay. I used an Unforgivable Curse not once, not twice, but three times, and I can't change that, either. Nothing can bring them back to life, and even if it could, nothing could change the fact I did it. But if you could get revenge… if you could take the bastard down…."
"In a heartbeat," Remus whispered back.
"Exactly. I have to die to get out of the Death Eaters, Remus. But some things are more important than that. I might have to go, but I'm taking a piece of Voldemort down with me."
***
The bar was very high-class, with polished chrome and mirrors and soft lighting. Expensive bottles of liquor lined the walls, and a wizard with black robes served patrons. Sirius found himself lapsing quiet, falling back into the manners his mother had tried so hard to instill in him. Beside him, James shifted uncomfortably. Sirius saw him toying with a frayed cuff of his robe.
"If this place was any stuffier, I'd be getting a nosebleed," James said.
"The funny thing is you probably have more money than most of them." Sirius twirled the stem of his wine glass between his fingers.
"Yeah, but I don't act it."
"No, you save your conceit for everything else," Sirius laughed.
"My looks, my charm, my intelligence, my sexual prowess, and Quidditch," James agreed cheerfully.
Sirius laughed again, but his eyes were darting around the bar, looking for Regulus. He noticed that the average age of the patrons was well over thirty, and wondered what would attract someone as young as Regulus here. He recognized some faces, but not many. "It's been a long time since I was in pureblood society."
"Can't say I blame you."
The silence that fell between them was awkward. James drummed his fingers on the glass top of the table, and Sirius surveyed the place again. He wondered how many people here were working for Voldemort. He almost opened his mouth to say as much to James and then closed it again, because saying something like that in the den of the enemy would be beyond stupid. Like this whole idea. This idea was stupid.
"Padfoot," James's voice broke into his thoughts. "You're going to drive me crazy, the way you're tapping your foot. Are you sure you want to be here?"
"Yes," Sirius lied.
"We can go," James said. "It's not like he even knows you'll be here, and what if he doesn't show up? Come on, Padfoot. We'll go back to my place and owl Remus and Peter if you like and play Exploding Snap and drink cheap booze until dawn."
"No."
James sighed.
The door opened, letting in a cool draft of air, and Sirius jerked around to see who entered. It was just another man escorting a woman, not a furtive teenager meeting a friend or a group of friends. He slumped in disappointment.
"Padfoot-"
"Don't even say it. I'm getting another drink."
***
Silence stretched for what seemed an eternity. The burning finally subsided, leaving cinders of shame. Unconsciously, Remus rubbed at his hand. The knuckles were split. Regulus saw the gesture and smiled. He'd healed his mouth and cleaned himself up, but Remus could still see traces of blood lingering on the gums.
"So what are you going to do?" he asked.
"I can't tell you," Regulus said. "But I need your help."
"How am I supposed to help you if you won't tell me what you're doing?"
Regulus chewed on his lip nervously. "That's the rub, isn't it? I can't tell you what I'm doing for a lot of reasons. That's why I needed you to understand how serious I am about doing this. You have to know."
"I believe you," Remus said truthfully.
"The problem is that you're staying in the Death Eaters for Dumbledore. Right?"
"What else would I do? I seriously doubt you're begging me to run away with you."
"Very funny. But if you know too much, it's a danger to you."
Remus goggled at Regulus. "Since when have you cared about what happens to me?"
Regulus stood up and walked over to the window. The moonlight illuminated the raindrops pounding against the glass, streaking tears of condensation down the panes. "I got into the Death Eaters with people I thought were my friends," he said finally. "I thought they were a second family. But only one person thought enough of me to tell me what people were planning, and that I was slipping. When we were in the Soviet Union, you…" he trailed off and shrugged. "You know, if things had been different- no, if I had been different, I think I might have liked you."
Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Regulus didn't notice, as he was rooting through a nightstand and pulling out crumpled pieces of parchment. "We have to do it tonight," Regulus said. "It's going to take a few days-"
"We need to be done by Wednesday. Full moon."
"Your part will be done tonight," Regulus said, and Remus realized that he'd just agreed to his plan, no matter what. The realization sent a shaft of ice water into his stomach, and his fingers convulsed in the folds of his robes. Regulus was still sifting through parchments, muttering to himself in Russian.
"Taking no chances," Remus whispered.
Regulus looked up for a second and smiled wryly before going back to his plans.
A strange sort of calm fell over the room and surged through Remus himself. He struggled to his feet, surprised to find his legs would now support him, and walked over to the window. The pavement outside glistened in the light of the Muggle street lamps, and he could hear the sound of the rain and the wind. In the distance, there was a low rumble of thunder, accented by the sharp rustling of the papers. He thought idly of Sirius, and that tonight they'd meant to stay in bed, and that Sirius was likely sitting at home now, waiting for Remus to show up. The thought of Sirius sitting at their kitchen table or on the couch waiting for him left a cold lump in his stomach, but this was important. Too important. More- no. Not more. But different.
"I think Sirius always hated the view."
Remus turned to see Regulus still sitting on his bed, watching him.
"What makes you say that?"
Regulus rested his chin on his hand. "When we were little, there was an apple tree outside of Sirius's room. Mother and Father had it cut down when he was in his second year. I saw him looking out the window at the stump, and he said the only thing that had ever made this place bearable was the tree."
"He used to shimmy down it to get outside," Remus said. "It wasn't the view he hated, I don't think. It was the fact that it was an entire world denied to him."
"Father only wanted to keep him safe. At least, that's what he said." Regulus stood up and joined Remus at the window. "The thing is, he meant it."
Remus thought of his own father, wound up so tight in fear and angry at the world. "I know," he said sadly.
They stood in silence, watching the rain explode into teardrops against the window panes. Finally, Regulus spoke.
"I'm ready," he said. "I've got everything I need, except one thing."
"What's that?"
"I need you to take an Unbreakable Vow."
Ice flooded Remus's throat and stomach. "I'll do no such thing."
Regulus met his eyes evenly. "Yes, you will."
"What makes you think that?"
Regulus's eyes weren't gray, but they reminded Remus of steel anyway. "I need to be sure I can trust you to do what I say, without question."
"What are you going to ask me to do?" Remus said, wary. Regulus just stared him down, and Remus sighed. "You can't tell me that. Otherwise you wouldn't ask me to make an Unbreakable Vow." Regulus nodded tightly. "How would we do it? We need a bonder."
"My father is here."
"He'd remember me."
"No. He wouldn't." Regulus's words were clipped short. "I need to you do it."
Remus broke the gaze and looked out the window again. "Can't you trust me?" he asked.
"I don't," Regulus admitted.
"Fine," Remus sighed, and his soul twisted. "I'll trust you."
***
He hadn't seen Arden Black in years, not since that terrible Easter at the Potters in their fifth year. The tall, formidable, terrifying man he remembered was gone, replaced by a thin, wiry gray-haired man with shifting eyes and musty robes. He was sitting in the library, a book in his lap.
"Father," Regulus said, kneeling beside the chair. Remus stood over Regulus's shoulder, and from where he stood he could see the book had gory illustrations. Arden Black looked at his son with rheumy eyes and grasped his hand. Regulus covered the hand with his own. "How are you, Father?"
"I didn't know you were home, Regulus." Mr. Black's voice was softer than Remus had ever heard it.
"I just came home for the night. Father, I need some help."
"What sort of help do you need?"
"It's something I need to do for the Dark Lord," he said, and Mr. Black's face lit up with obvious pride. "It's important," Regulus said, "but it's also very important that it remains secret."
"Whatever the Dark Lord commands, of course," Mr. Black agreed. His eyes flicked up to Remus- a brief, searching glance that seemed like a vague attempt at recognition. Remus could almost see the mental shrug and dismissal as he turned his attention back to his son. "What do you need?"
"A Bonder for an Unbreakable Vow."
If Remus had asked that of his own father, his eyebrows would have shot to his hairline and an inquisition would have followed. Mr. Black simply nodded, as if Regulus had asked if he could make a ham sandwich. "Do you have my wand?"
"I do." Regulus disentangled himself and crossed the library. He pulled out a book and tapped it, murmuring the incantation for a Transfiguration spell. The book became a box, and Regulus fished a stone out from a chain around his neck. He pressed the stone into an indentation, and the box sprang open. Remus saw him take something gold out of the box and stuff it in his pocket, and then he removed a long oak wand and handed it to his father.
Mr. Black's eyes lit up and he trailed his fingers down the wood. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes."
Remus backed away.
"One spell, Father," Regulus said, in a voice that was almost sing-song. "Remember. You promised Mother."
Mr. Black's eyes were fixed on the wand, wide open and intent. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and Remus suddenly found swallowing very, very difficult.
You're insane, he told Regulus mentally. HE'S insane. But Regulus just grabbed Remus's hand.
"Are you ready, Father?"
Mr. Black snapped out of his trance. "Yes."
"All right." Regulus turned to face Remus, and Remus felt Mr. Black's wand trained on him. "Do you swear to obey me, without question, until my task is complete?"
Everything in Remus's body was longing to scream NO!, to snatch his hand back, and to break out of this house and run until his lungs exploded and his body collapsed. And yet… he closed his eyes. "I swear it."
He waited for Regulus to add on something more, but there was nothing, nothing but the fire wreathing their conjoined hands and sending heat up his arm. He tried to pull his hand away but it was immobile, locked in Regulus's grip until the fire died out. When it did, Remus found himself sprawled on the floor. He struggled to his feet, frantically dusting off his robes and looking at Regulus, expecting to see the usual countenance of scorn. However, Regulus's attention was entirely focused on his father.
"I need the wand back now, Father."
Mr. Black drew the wand against his chest. "No."
"Yes. You know the rules, Father. You're only allowed to have your wand if you give it back."
"You can't make me give it back."
"Yes, I can."
"No. You can't." Mr. Black's voice had sunk to a ragged hiss and he backed up against the shelves as Regulus advanced on him. "It's mine. Mine. I am your father and you will listen to me."
"Yes, Father. But you will give me the wand."
"No. NO!" As Regulus reached out, Mr. Black darted to the side, evading his son's hand. "It's mine, you little brat! I am your father and you will listen to me!" The back of his hand struck Regulus across the cheek.
Regulus rolled with the blow and came up immediately, wand in hand. "Stupify!" he cried, and Arden Black sank to the ground, unconscious. Regulus dropped to his knees beside him, prying the wand from his now limp fingers.
"Is he…?" Remus began, but he couldn't finish the sentence. He wasn't sure what the end of the sentence was.
"He's fine," Regulus said. He replaced the wand in its hiding place and then used his own wand to levitate his father to a couch. He carefully covered the man with an afghan and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Let's go."
"But your father-" Remus wanted to argue, but an unpleasant heat surged through him, making him dizzy. The Unbreakable Vow. He gripped his head in his hands until the pain subsided. Regulus simply raised an eyebrow, and then left the room.
Remus followed. "He'll be all right?" he finally dared, when they were back in the safety of Regulus's bedroom.
"He'll be fine. He's been like this for the past two years. This was a good day for him," Regulus said. He picked up a bag and rifled through it, checking the contents. "If you really must know, there was an accident in the Department of Mysteries."
"So that Quibbler article was true?"
Regulus made a face. "I wouldn't know. I never read that rubbish. But it wouldn't surprise me if someone had gotten hold of the story."
"Sirius-"
"Sirius doesn't know," Regulus said, his voice dripping with scorn as he fastened the clasps on the bag and set it on the floor. "Sirius doesn't know a thing that goes on beyond these walls. Sirius cares nothing for this family."
"So he'd like everyone to believe," Remus muttered. "Including himself."
"Well, he's successful then, isn't he? We're going now. I sure hope you can swim."
***
By the time he'd had three drinks, there was a looseness in his limbs and Moody's voice roaring in his head. Yet Sirius couldn't force himself to leave the place. Every time the door opened he jumped, heart in his throat, and it seemed like it sank lower and lower each time Regulus didn't enter. James's eyes were growing darker and a line was appearing between his brows, a sure sign that he was agitated.
An hour after Regulus was supposed to appear, Sirius was on his fifth drink. But even through the haze of the alcohol, a little clarity made itself heard. There were a lot of faces in here that looked familiar- a lot of faces that were on case files that required investigation.
James must have been thinking along the same lines. He didn't say anything. He couldn't- not here. But his fist kept clenching around his wand.
"Look, Sirius," James said awkwardly when Sirius sank back into his seat after jumping up as the door opened. "Don't take it personally. Maybe something came up. Maybe he decided not to come. After all, he didn't know you were going to be here. It's not like you arranged to meet."
"I know," Sirius sulked. He tried to pull himself together. "Let me get one more drink and then we'll go. I'll say this for the Death Eaters- they have good booze."
"Maybe you'd better not," James said, his knuckles turning white. "Maybe we should just get out of here."
He wanted to argue, but the Moody part of Sirius's mind realized that James was right. "All right." He fumbled for his wallet and left a few Sickles on the table and stood up, much to James's relief.
Several things happened at once, and Sirius would have been hard-pressed to put a sequence to the events. The door flew open, and then slammed shut again. Several Death Eaters stood to block their exit. Where before there had only been people in regular robes, these were dressed in the black robes and wearing the eerie white masks. There was the crack of Apparation, and a tall, thin man with a hood shadowing his face stood in front of them.
"Voldemort," James breathed.
A Death Eather pointed a wand, and suddenly James was on the floor, writhing with the pain of the Cruciatus curse. "Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" the Death Eater cried.
Sirius had seen Remus bleeding and burnt and dying. He'd seen Peter with a broken heart. He'd seen his family fall to pieces. He'd seen his adoptive parents burnt alive. He'd seen people hurt and dying in any number of ways in his work. But few things had ever felt like this- this tearing, fiercely protective pain that howled as if it were a part of himself under the Cruciatus.
The bottles of liquor behind the bar shattered, sending glass and alcohol spraying through the air. Sirius forgot all training, forgot all magic- he just launched himself at the Death Eater torturing James. Their bodies met with the dull thud of a collision, and they went sprawling to the ground. He swung and his fist connected with the Death Eater's mask, sending the mask flying and breaking the skin on his knuckles. The face beneath the mask made him gasp.
Bellatrix.
He hesitated for just a moment; the belief that he should not hit a woman was ingrained too deeply in him for quick action. It was enough, and her nails raked across his face. That startled away any sense of chivalry Sirius; he grabbed for her throat with one hand and her wand with the other. Her wand went flying across the room.
They rolled over, and magic was forgotten as they fought by skin, tooth, and nail; with Bellatrix, the last two were quite literal as opposed to figurative.) Sirius tasted blood in his mouth as one of her blows struck him across the jaw, and spat it in her face. She struggled against him and then her hands closed around his throat; and the world began to blur as she squeezed. He heard distorted laughter and James shouting, and then a shriek of pain from James.
"Enough!"
Everything stopped, even Sirius. The voice that spoke was raspy and had a snake-like to it, and it cut through the clamor and froze the blood like nothing that Sirius had ever heard before.
"Hold him," Voldemort commanded again.
A Death Eater swished his wand, and Sirius was held with a Full Body-Bind. He tried to grind his teeth in frustration- it was a spell he'd known as a first year, for Merlin's sake. But the spell held him fast; whoever was casting it was strong. Voldemort stepped forward and cast off his hood, and Sirius nearly choked on his own tongue.
Red eyes. High, etched cheekbones. Cold skin, white as death. Sirius had thought he'd understood that phrase before- he'd seen dead people and near-dead people- but he hadn't until now. Voldemort smiled at him, although
smile" seemed to not be quite the word Sirius wanted.
"Sirius Black," he sneered. "The great Auror. Caught quite easily, weren't you?"
And that was when it finally sank in that the entire thing was a trap.
On to Part 2
