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"Don't call me that, Potter." Regulus braced himself for insults and cruelty, puzzled by why the Gryffindor was wandering from his usual companions.
"Make me," Potter taunted, looking far too pleased with himself as amusement danced in his bright eyes—though the smile stubbornly stretched across his face seemed slightly forced. The enjoyment slipped from his expression more drastically as he looked Regulus up and down, his eyebrow climbing higher. "You look awful…." A tremor crept into the annoying Gryffindor's tone that stunned Regulus. Why the hell did Potter even pretend to care?
"I'm fine," he hissed, trying not to feel too self-conscious. He assumed lying on the bathroom floor had wrinkled his robes, but he'd forgotten until now about his discarded tie and messed-up hair caused by desperately splashing water on his face. But Narcissa had fixed one of those, or both, he couldn't remember, either way it didn't matter. "Where are you off to anyway?"
The infuriating Gryffindor chuckled, "I'm off to bride some Aurors."
What? "Why would you do that?" he asked warily, eyes narrowing in disbelief. The end goal must be some joke or prank; it always was with his brother's impossible friends, well, maybe less so Lupin, but nevertheless, his point remained.
"Well, Sirius says I'm being a nosy git, which is rich coming from that tosser, but we heard from Patricia that Fabian and Gideon are two of the Aurors on the train, even though they are technically in training. But I--" Potter droned on, and Regulus decided the easily excitable boy could and would yap forever.
"I don't care. Just get out of my way." Blast the Hogwarts Express' narrow walkway! Had they been at school, he would have been long gone, unless Potter had stupidly tried jinxing him.
"Not so fast. What brought you to the best area of the train?"
Regulus had to admit it was a somewhat reasonable question, despite Potter's obnoxious wording. "No reason."
Potter thrust a chocolate frog packet towards him, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. "Are you sure about that?"
Regulus rolled his eyes, ignoring the flicker of amusement the blasted boy's antics caused. He pointedly refused to take the candy. "Your bribery skills suck."
The older boy shrugged, unfazed. "Fabian and Gideon aren't such spoilsports, although their superior might be," he mused, rifling through his recently re-gathered armful of sweets with a critical eye. "Maybe I should have gotten more…."
Reg felt the whole world spin as the train manoeuvred through a gentle turn. For a fleeting moment, he caught sight of a shimmering river as they crossed one of the numerous bridges along their winding route. He pressed against the cool glass of the window before he collapsed, trying to keep the pain off his face. Why did he have to run into Potter? The Gryffindor likely saw him as nothing more than a feeble, sickly wretch now. A dreadful thought gnawed at him—Sirius would undoubtedly find out about him appearing so unbefitting and tease him for it. Dammit.
"Whoa…wait. Let's…uh, go back to my compartment and get you sorted. You look peaky." Potter offered, shifting the assortment of sweets precariously cradled in his hands so he could reach out awkwardly. Regulus jerked away, an instinctive reaction to the offered comfort. The gesture gave the Gryffinor pause; a troubled look danced behind his eyes for a moment before they softened as he grinned sheepishly. "Come on, Reg, we don't want you losing your lunch on me again. My robe is brand new."
Why did he have to go and mention that!
"I'm perfectly fine, not that my health concerns you in the slightest," Regulus huffed haughtily, struggling to ignore the heat blooming in his cheeks. The embarrassment of that previous incident loomed threateningly, and he feared he would never live it down.
"Well, it's your brother's concern....and you honestly look ill." The worry bleeding into Potter's voice aggravated Regulus almost as much as the git's audacity to bring up Sirius. How dare he!
Potter had effectively stolen his brother away. This was as much Potter's fault as it was Sirius'. Regulus glowered at the boy, who remained stubbornly rooted in place.
"It's NOT," he shot back, his voice sharp as he whipped out his wand, pleasantries forgotten. "Sirius wouldn't give a damn anyway, so just step aside."
"That's not tr--"
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" The shout erupted from him, desperation laden in every syllable, a plea wrapped in fury, warning the boy to back the hell off.
Potter hesitated, caught between foolish Gryffindor determination and the much wiser route of compliance. Regulus suspected the imbecile would have chosen the option that, a moment longer, might have resulted in a long-overdue confrontation. However, Remus Lupin suddenly emerged from a compartment further down the corridor, and for a split second, their eyes locked, the pity in Lupin's gaze igniting his rage.
He felt cornered. He should shove past James, who still seemed to be debating with himself on the appropriate course of action. But he doubted he could pull off the escape, given how unsteady he remained. Besides, any attempt to leave would only put him in Lupin's path, leaving him pinned by that uncomfortably observant, concerned stare—one he greatly preferred to avoid.
Perhaps he could double back towards the Ravenclaw section, but who would he sit with? The thought of Emma lurked faintly in his mind, yet his subconscious noted that Potter seemed to be heading there as well, and he needed to get rid of both aggravating Gryffindors. His best option as Lupin quietly approached was to straighten his spine and scowl fiercely. He supposed he should just be grateful it wasn't Sirius.
"Uh…you okay?" James ventured, detecting the change in Regulus' behaviour, though he refrained from offering any physical support. Regulus took a step back, the motion causing him to sway slightly as a fresh wave of dizziness battered him. The dull thrum of his headache persisted, amplified by the stifling heat of the poorly air-conditioned train. If he managed to find a prefect, he'd be sure to lodge a complaint about how unacceptable it was to leave the train practically boiling.
"Hello, Black. Is everything alright?" Remus greeted from right behind James, a calm demeanour that startled the other boy into nearly jumping out of his skin with a dramatic 'eep' of surprise.
"Damn, Remus, don't sneak up on me," Potter whined, hand clutching his chest, radiating a level of fond exasperation that hinted at repeated incidents. Regulus renewed his glaring at Lupin, only to find him still watching James, no change to his expression's softness and sadness. Huh….
"You should be more aware of your surroundings if you don't like it," Remus teased effortlessly, a rather pitiful excuse of a smile tugging on his lips, before he turned his unnerving attention to Regulus. "I hope James hasn't enlisted you into his scheme to corrupt ministry officials," he continued with what almost seemed to be a calculated lightheartedness that drew out a predictable reaction from the loudmouth Gryffindor.
"Hey! I'm just being generous. If Gideon and Fabian want to tell me about what they're up to on the train, for no other reason than because I'm favoured by them, then that's their business."
Remus hummed thoughtfully, a sly smile contrasting the concern still glimmering in his eyes. "Wouldn't it be a better strategy to wait until later in the trip, between the trolley coming around? They probably already have enough sweets at the moment."
Regulus could no longer see the expressions playing across Potter's face, but he could hear the consideration in his voice. "That….you might be onto something, mate. But you have to help me fight off Sirius and Peter."
"I shall do my utmost," Remus replied, feigning solemnity that seemed to go over James' head completely. Regulus couldn't help but roll his eyes as Potter barreled on with wild theories about why Aurors were accompanying the two sisters, each idea more ludicrous than the last, ranging from espionage to the absurd notion of smuggling rare magical creatures for Kettleburn. Regulus expected to continue back to his compartment unbothered, given that James hadn't directed any more unwanted attention his way. But Remus lingered, walking past the compartment that housed Sirius, encouraging James to go in.
"Go on. I'll be just a moment," Remus encouraged his friend in a whisper. What was Lupin playing at? Potter, who apparently hadn't actually forgotten Regulus, glanced from him to Remus and back again, looking nervous.
"I told Sirius I was going to apologise to Lily for this summer, and I really should," Remus explained mildly, the sincerity in his voice softening the edges of his words. Regulus, not wanting to be caught lingering outside Sirius' compartment like a guilty wraith, took several hasty steps back, his heartbeat coincidentally speeding up ever so slightly.
Remus' earnest excuse appeared to sway James, who nodded in agreement and strangely agreed not to rat Regulus out for an unknown reason.
Potter merely waved at the bewildered second-year, tossing something into the air with nonchalance before he swiftly yanked the door open, only to vanish inside amidst the teasing laughter from Sirius, who mockingly accused him of "predictably failing" yet again. Potter shut the door and sounded playfully outraged with his usual over-the-top exuberance, probably over the assumption he hadn't succeeded. Regulus, too preoccupied to react quickly, heard a soft thud and glanced down to find a chocolate frog resting on the floor. Oh, for the love of Merlin. Stooping down to pick it up, he felt an odd mix of gratitude and irritation, wincing slightly at the discomfort bending caused him, but ultimately unable to crush the small gift's unnecessary kindness.
When he straightened, he noticed Lupin had moved a bit closer. Not as annoyingly close as the ever infuriating James-no-sense-of-personal-space-Potter had been, but still obviously having more in mind than finding Lily.
Surprisingly, Regulus didn't find himself on edge around Lupin—perhaps due to the boy's unwavering kindness or the anticipation of an update regarding the Gryffindor's mission to broaden Sirius' often narrow-minded views. He hoped Remus would turn out to be a man of his word; not that the third-year would have much of a chance to after disappearing for the summer. Now that Regulus thought about it, if Lupin upset him, he had accusations he could fire back in retaliation.
So when Remus raised a finger to his lips and turned on his heels, leading the way down the rumbling corridor, Regulus followed reluctantly. With Hogwarts' attendance predicted to plummet due to the ongoing war and the unmitigated disaster of the 'Triwizard Tournament' farce, it wasn't long before Lupin found an empty compartment.
"Do you mind if I take up a bit of your time?" The fact that Lupin asked respectfully rather than assume Regulus would play along showed he didn't feel entitled, like Sirius and James would. So Regulus nodded and followed him inside, prepared for just about anything. Lupin's hand hovered on the curtain, and he tipped his head in another question; the gesture spoke volumes about the boy's thoughtfulness. Regulus hated that he might like Lupin a little. How could someone so mild-mannered stand to be friends with the tumultuous storm Sirius could be?
"You can if you want," he finally replied dismissively, draping his voice with an air of expected arrogance. Lupin was a Muggleborn, after all. Perhaps that was why the boy had fled from wherever he called home. Sirius hadn't even known where Remus had been during the summer, let alone why—an unprecedented event for Regulus' nosy brother. Sirius absolutely found his mysterious friend intriguing, and Regulus was tempted to agree. Maybe all the Lupins were just eccentric, though his limited understanding of Muggles made it hard to reach any definitive judgment.
As Remus drew the curtains with an odd slowness, Regulus eased himself onto the seat. He was alarmed to find the stinging from his back and legs had steadily worsened. He adopted a rigid stance, keeping his hand near the pocket where his wand lay hidden, wary of being alone with an older Gryffindor.
"Sorry to bother you." Remus radiated sincerity as he settled across from Regulus, positioning himself closer to the window than the door, thus giving them both as much space as possible in the cramped compartment. Gradually, Regulus allowed himself to relax, preparing for the inevitable questions about Sirius, or maybe Ryan, whom he hadn't heard from since the end of the previous year. He couldn't imagine what else Lupin would want him for. If the conversation ended up being about something trivial, he would have no qualms leaving without a word.
Remus turned his face to look out the window, lost in thought. Regulus quickly found himself on the verge of losing patience. Just as he went to scold the fool for wasting his time, Lupin broke the silence softly, his voice almost a whisper, "I was just wondering if… you've heard from Emma since her brother and father's funeral."
Regulus gaped at the boy, who looked out the window with a slight frown. "Why do you care? How did you even know?" His head buzzed with dozens of other questions he wanted to ask Lupin now.
"I just overheard," Lupin sighed, leaning back in his seat, his expression pained as he tipped his face up towards the compartment ceiling. Regulus couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that Remus was fighting back tears. What in the world was happening? "I... know how it is..." The words came out so quietly that Regulus had to scoot closer to catch them. If this was a trap, it had to be the most bizarre one he had ever encountered. Yet, having overheard enough Slytherins mockingly refer to Remus as Loopy Lupin, he wouldn't put anything past the peculiar boy. "...losing a parent…"
The shocking personal information and the raw vulnerability in Remus' voice threw Regulus off balance, and he found himself answering with unexpected honesty: "I haven't heard from her since the funeral."
"And you haven't had a chance to talk to her yet?" Remus pressed, still positioned strangely. Regulus scooched a little closer because the infuriating third year insisted on speaking far too quietly. In fact, he almost sounded hoarse, as if the weight of his own unspoken grief was constricting his throat. Regulus thought he had prepared himself for any possibility, but clearly, he had been incredibly wrong. As their proximity grew, Remus shifted again, perhaps sharing the same trait as Sirius in not being able to sit still for long. But instead of bouncing or fidgeting with restless energy like his brother would have, the odd Gryffindor leaned over his knees, covering the lower half of his face with his hands.
The suspicion that the question was merely a convoluted pretext for snooping on James and Sirius' behalf evaporated as Remus' breathing became increasingly laboured, punctuated by an alarming pallor that crept across his features. For a fleeting moment, Regulus feared the boy might lose the contents of his stomach right then and there. Had Potter played some cruel prank on Lupin to ensure Regulus would get thrown up on? Was this revenge?
"You aren't going to be sick, are you?" Regulus scooted as far away as he could on the narrow bench, debating leaving. He wished they were allowed to open the windows, yearning for fresh air, before chastising himself for not considering the logical solution. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered spell, he conjured a simple brown paper bag, the crinkling sound breaking the tense silence as he flapped it in Lupin's direction, hoping to gain his attention. The boy looked ghastly, a sickly shade of pale, yet he managed to wave the offering away, summoning what little strength remained.
"Sorry," Remus murmured, his voice laced with an unmistakable misery that tugged at Regulus' conscience.
"Uh… It's fine. Just… use the bag if you're going to be sick. I didn't get the chance to talk to her anyway, so I'm just going to…." Regulus hesitated, feeling lousy as he stood up reluctantly. Guilt punched him hard as soon as he contemplated leaving Remus alone in his distressed state. He didn't want to fetch James, knowing it would alert Sirius and lead to complications. "I can get Evans for you if you'd like?"
"No… I'll be fine… thanks," Remus replied, the confidence lacking in his tone. Regulus nodded and began to step away, but his resolve faltered when Lupin called out, "Wait, Black?"
Turning back with curiosity and a healthy dose of apprehension, Regulus watched Lupin pull out a mystery object wrapped in cloth from his pocket. "What is it?" He didn't bother to hide his scepticism.
"It's for you. When you get back to your compartment. You can open it now if you want, but you might want to wait," Remus said, proving as much of an enigma as he always seemed to be.
The assurance did little to alleviate Regulus' stewing paranoia. With a swift incantation of "Wingardium Leviosa," he levitated the rag from atop a small, round container. He proactively held up a hand to protect his face, already opening his mouth to cast the shield charm, fully expecting a bomb to go off, leaving Remus as collateral damage. The Marauders were insane like that. Instead, the dark glass container just... sat there innocuously.
"What the hell are you playing at, Lupin?" he grumbled, fed up with all the oddness from the third year.
"You're bleeding," Lupin stated simply, an apologetic look on his face as if he knew precisely how uncomfortable Regulus would be knowing someone had discovered this. "And the ointment will alleviate pain and prevent or clear any infection."
The Slytherin stood dumbfounded for a few minutes before glaring daggers. Regulus would know if the blood had soaked through his bandages, right? That left one horrifyingly invasive option. "You run a diagnostic spell on all your enemies, do you?"
The statement caused Remus to visibly relax, perhaps due to the guilt harboured over hiding the secret, though a weariness remained in the boy's eyes. Regulus found himself completely at a loss, confusion crumpling his face. The freaky boy managed a weak, nervous smile, sounding strangely relieved as he explained earnestly. "I apologise. I just noticed you limping, and I didn't expect you to be honest with me. But one of your wounds is infected—that's the reason behind your fever."
At that moment, Regulus started to grasp the whole "Loopy Lupin" reputation. He'd always thought Potter was annoyingly intrusive, yet compared to this Mudblood, the boy seemed practically angelic. "I'm not gullible enough to fall for whatever scheme you're concocting," Regulus seethed, instinctively levelling his wand at Remus, who, disturbingly unresponsive, didn't even flinch. The sight of his indifference only served to fuel Regulus' anger further.
"It's not a trick. I can show you if you want." Lupin's calm demeanour kept throwing Regulus off balance. Was that perhaps the point? The insane boy completely ignored the menacing wand, instead reaching for the container and casually opening it.
The slight tremor in his hands betrayed his anxiety, even as his face maintained an unreadable mask, which was the sole reason Regulus refrained from cursing him into next week. The assurance that the older boy regarded him as a threat felt oddly satisfying. As the lid was removed, a glimmering silver cream came into view, and recognition washed over Regulus. He had applied this healing salve to Sirius countless times, both with and without his brother's permission. He should have recognised the ornate jar earlier; it mirrored the one his mother kept prominently displayed at home—prestigious and undoubtedly expensive.
"Why are you carrying a healing salve around with you?" Regulus had to admit his curiosity was piqued; this strange boy had his attention now. How could a Mudblood afford something so precious anyway? Could the sneaky boy be somehow using the affection his Pureblood friends had for him to drain them of their Galleons, not that Sirius could access many?
Remus gave a slight laugh that sounded a little off, but Reg was beginning to suspect everything about the boy radiated weirdness. "I've learned with friends like Sirius and James, it's best to be prepared." Lupin adopted a more relaxed posture, slouching against the seat with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The theory that he couldn't sit still was gaining more traction. Well…Regulus supposed the answer made sense enough, but he still couldn't get over the gesture.
"And you expect me to just…take it? Those jars don't come cheap," Regulus said, his tone flat, fully aware that if someone from The Sacred Twenty-Eight regarded something as worth owning, it was guaranteed to be costly.
"Well, I'd appreciate it if you brought it back once you've used it," Remus replied, his voice fading slightly. "But I didn't think you'd feel comfortable applying it in my presence." As Lupin sank deeper into his seat, it became evident that the boy wasn't posing to seem unbothered, but instead wasn't feeling well enough to sit upright.
"You should be more concerned about yourself. What's wrong with you?" Regulus meant to inquire about the source of Lupin's symptoms, but the way the Gryffindor winced made it apparent he had interpreted the question differently.
"Many things, or so I'm told," Lupin deflected with a timid chuckle, his eyes darting to Regulus, an unspoken tension thickening the air as if he expected to be confronted with something. Regulus considered threatening to expose the runaway's disappearance over the summer, and yet, oddly enough, he found himself reluctant to use that weapon.
Regulus considered his options, but it would take only a mere coating of the salve to heal the lash marks, and it was better than dealing with the pain for weeks. Back home, he had attempted to use a similar jar, but his stealth had faltered drastically when it came to utilising it for himself rather than Sirius. His mother had caught him in the act, reminding him that the few marks he bore from clumsy mistakes in his lessons served as valuable lessons for improvement. He hadn't had the heart to tell her it was more than a few, not that she would have done anything either way. Well, the wounds were his fault anyway, born from how…distant and unfocused he had gotten during lessons. He promised himself he would do better—he had to.
Steeling himself, he seized the jar and tucked it into his pocket, pausing briefly as he turned to look at Remus. The older boy now sat bolt upright, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut tight. Yeah, Lupin was undeniably loopy, but more than that, he was stupidly kind. "Thanks for--"
"Shhh!"
Regulus froze more out of surprise than obedience. Did Lupin dislike getting thanked or something? “Uh…well I’ll go…” His voice trailed off uncertainly.
"Black, please be quiet for a moment," Remus murmured, urgency threading through his tone. Regulus complied, surrendering to the strange aura that surrounded the unconventional third-year, accepting at this point that he could not keep up with the older boy. He should have just left, yet the sight of Lupin sitting there, his head tilted slightly, eyes squinted shut as if grappling with intense agony, rooted him to the spot. When the Gryffindor finally spoke again, his voice bore the unmistakable authority he had wielded the previous year during that tense encounter with Davey. "Were you near the Gryffindor compartments because you came to warn Sirius about something?"
How could Lupin possibly know that? Remus opened his eyes, the fiery intensity in his gaze causing Regulus to instinctively step back as the third-year rose slowly to his feet. "S-sorta," he admitted weakly, feeling oddly exposed under the scrutiny. Lupin nodded, expecting this somehow, even though such knowledge shouldn't be possible.
The Gryffindor suddenly flinched violently, as though Regulus had struck him with a stinging hex. In the next instant, the compartment plunged into darkness before he could question what Lupin was playing at. For a moment, Regulus convinced himself the train had entered a tunnel despite not remembering one the previous year. But the inky blackness engulfing everything left him cold and shivering, a highly unpleasant and...familiar sensation. His knees quivered, and he inhaled raggedly, trying to fight back the memories of the basement's endless shadows creeping into his mind.
Terrified screams echoed from neighbouring compartments, shattering the illusion of being trapped with a dementor. Instead, Regulus found himself staring into two glowing orbs that blinked back at him, eyes that he soon discovered belonged to Lupin! "What—" he began, only for the train to jolt to a sudden stop, which left him stumbling and nearly falling entirely.
"Regulus, we need to go now." Lupin maintained his air of authority, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to doubt his instruction. Apparently, the bizarre boy was the only one who had any clue about what was happening. A Marauders prank, perhaps? No, his brother would have found the enveloping dark and cold far too unsettling. With the sheer breadth of the magic possibly spanning the whole train, ensuring safety for his own compartment would have proven impossible for Sirius. "Can I hold your hand? I can see where I'm going, and we need to get to the others." Regulus presumed 'the others' referred in part to his brother, whom he dreaded running into, now understanding that the unyielding shadows were precisely what Narcissa had warned him about. How had he ended up tangled in this chaos, all while failing to give Sirius a heads-up?
"Black!" Lupin's voice cut through his thoughts, the attempted shout leading to the boy's voice cracking, truly hoarse. So the quietness about him hadn't been a choice? How had he lost his voice in the first place? Regulus swore he could write a book with the questions Lupin conjured.
"Okay," he relented, reluctantly grateful that Lupin had once again offered him a choice, however minimal it was. As a trembling hand grasped his, any figment of safety he hoped to cling to, being with a third-year, dissipated into the unforgiving blackness. Remus hid it well, impressively so, but he was frightened too! Nevertheless, he followed the Gryffindor, who seemed to navigate the abyss with a strange kind of assurance. Regulus burned with shame as the panicked shouts of "Lumos!" pierced the air around them. He hadn't even thought to use his wand, and yet, when no encompassing wandlight followed, it became clear the enchanted dark must be preventing the simple solution. Had Remus known that as well?
"ALL STUDENTS STAY IN YOUR COMPARTMENTS!" The thundering voice reverberated around them, as loud as a Howler. Several students started screaming hysterically in the compartment Lupin pulled him past at a slightly faster pace now. "THERE ARE THREE AURORS ON THE TRAIN WHO WILL BE RESOLVING THE ISSUE. PLEASE STAY CALM, IT WILL BE ALRIGHT." The disembodied voice exuded such conviction that the panicked commotion died down somewhat. Remus ignored the order, somehow remaining gentle despite the trembling hand giving away his panic, as he led Regulus further into the dark. Regulus had to admit he felt incredibly grateful for not having been alone in his compartment. Or would the Slytherin have then evaded this nightmare entirely?
The train lurched again, and somehow, the Hogwarts Express began to move, even with the darkness persisting, which left goose bumps erupting across Regulus' neck and arms. Remus halted abruptly, and without a second thought, Regulus squeezed the third-year's hand as a gesture of support, similar to how Sirius used to comfort him. But then Lupin yanked his hand away, leaving Regulus momentarily stung before the piercing, fragmented cry of "Plumnatet!" sliced through the air.
Suddenly, Regulus felt his toes scrape against the ground, his body lifting into the air as if the very earth had betrayed him. He flailed helplessly, an almost painful lightheadedness washing over him and sending shivers through his body. "Lupin, what—"
Before he could finish his cry, a thunderous drumbeat cut him off, swelling into an ominous crescendo that sent shudders through the entire train. A grating screech echoed in the air, reverberating in time with his heartbeat, his teeth vibrating in response. He admitted, in a distant corner of his mind, that his heart raced wildly while high-pitched screaming echoed around him at ear-ringing volume. No, it wasn't just noise—his head was spinning, blurring together the sensations and sounds. No, he was spinning helplessly in the air. No… the train!
They were falling!