REGULUS

"Oy I have a starving werewolf out here who needs nourishment! What in the bleeding rumpus is taking so long to cook eggs?" Sirius came bursting into the room, a flourish of energy and loud sound that launched James into the air like a firecracker. He made an audible gasp as he leap-frogged over my head and up to the stove, grabbing the handle of the pan and yanking it back to its proper place on the burner. I stayed kneeling on the floor in front of the chair he'd vacated, my heart pounding.

Did I actually just tell James Potter - to his face - that I thought he was... hot?

Oh gods.

That is the type shit you keep to yourself, Regulus!!!

I wanted to melt into the tile floor and slip between the cracks into the depths of the world and never be seen again. I imagined leaping to my feet and obliviating James and myself and possibly Sirius and Remus too just for good measure so there was no chance of this ever - ever - ever getting out.

"Eggs burned making more," James said, voice rushed and flat, eyes trained on the pan.

"What the hell are you doing, you little sodcake?" Sirius asked, looking at me kneeling before the chair.

"Dropped something," I murmured.

"You always were such a clumsy thing," Sirius said. He walked over though and offered his hand to help pull me up to my feet. I accepted his palm and his fingers gripped mine as he patted my back once I was upright. He smiled at me and I smiled a little back, diverting my eyes as James turned 'round with a plate of eggs. Sirius tilted his head slightly then, looking at me, and I felt heat climbing my neck, even as I was trying at shoving the thought of the last five minutes behind that wall in my mind. Sirius wasn't a legilimens, but he could read me like a book without the ability.

He'd kill me if he knew.

"Here we go, here!" James suddenly shoved between us and pushed the eggs into Sirius's hand, "Go feed Moony."

Sirius looked perplexed at the plate of eggs and gave James a funny look. "Alright Prongs?" Sirius asked, mimicking James's usual question and tone with a smirk.

"Yeah, brilliant," James turned back to the stove, pouring a new puddle of egg into the pan with a loud sizzle.

Sirius gripped the plate and looked from James to me and back again, then nodded, and turned, carrying the eggs away.

James whipped around the moment Sirius was gone, holding the pan in one hand, the spatula in the other. The expression on his face was wild with wonder - the question clear. Did I mean what I'd said?

I did.

James's apple bobbed as he processed a moment - something I'd noticed was a trait of his even before I'd known him well. His neck and the contours of it was something that had always drawn my attention.

"Alright then," he said, and he turned back around to the stove.

Alright then? Alright then??? That's it? What does alright then mean?

I thought it but I wanted to scream it, I wanted to grab onto his shoulders and shake him and beg him to please for the love of Slytherin tell me what the hell alright then meant. Here was me, barely able to breathe, feeling like a complete and utter imbecile and there was him, cool and going on with cooking eggs like I hadn't just done the single most horrifying thing that anyone could ever do - tell their crush that they are hot, that is, to their face - and just... just... Like it was every day that he heard such things from his best mate's little brother.

He probably did hear it everyday actually.

I wondered if Remus or Peter had brothers that were also in love with James Potter?

I really ought to have known if either of them even had brothers.

I was a terrible brother for not knowing.

Please James turn around and tell me what alright then means?

But instead, he turned around and shoved a plate of eggs into my hands.

"You'll want to go on and eat those," he said, and his voice shook a bit, "While they're still hot."

I stared at him.

"Really? You gotta use the word hot? Now?" I asked.

James flushed and he turned back to the stove.

Sirius was putting the strap of his rucksack 'round his shoulders. "Try not to miss me too much while I'm gone," he announced. He patted James's cheek. "And on a Tuesday and everything."

"I'll survive," James said, "Somehow."

"What's Tuesday got to do with it?" I asked.

Sirius shook his head, ignoring my question, and barreled on, "Little Sodcake, don't go getting into trouble while I'm away. James is in charge and --"

"Bleeding hell Sirius, I'm not a child."

"Ickle little Reggie..." Sirius pinched my cheek.

I flushed. "Stop it."

Sirius grinned and then turned 'round and looped Remus Lupin's arm over his shoulder like it was a boa and he was a can-can girl on a line. Remus looked in utter agony, and despite Sirius's attempts at staying up beat, the worry was still in his eyes. "For real though."

"I'll be alright," I said.

Sirius nodded.

This would be the longest I'd been out of his sight since I'd showed up at the door.

"C'mon my Moony," he said, and he helped Remus along to the door, each step eliciting a wince of pain from my brother-in-law.

It felt weird, that phrase. Brother in law. Not because of anything except just truly the fact that having a brother in law meant that Sirius was married and I wasn't used to the idea that Sirius and I weren't kids anymore, running up the stairs and pretending to hex one another. I'd missed so much of his life that I forgot the time had passed and sometimes looking at him, an adult, was confusing.

Wasn't it just yesterday?

But they went out the cabin door and James stepped onto the porch and whispered something to Sirius that made him nod solemnly, and then he and Remus disappeared into the woods.

James stood there staring at the line of trees for a moment, then came back in and locked the door behind himself.

It was the first time we looked at one another since that morning.

Every nervous feeling that had been in my stomach earlier when he'd said "alright then" resurged in that moment.

James's eyes moved from my head to my toes and back again, and his voice shook as he murmured, "Gotta write to Evans..." and he turned toward the bedroom.

"Alright then," I said.

There was an edge to my voice.

He stopped midway across the living room, back to me. I could see his eyes were closed the way his head was half turned toward me.

There was a long, long pause, and at first I thought he might turn around and come back to me, but in the end he went into the bedroom and closed the door.

I sat on the couch, reading, half watching the door of James's room, waiting for him to come back out and face me. Eventually he'd get hungry or bored or something, wouldn't he? But the time dragged on and on, and outside the sky grew darker, the ocean a dark black smudge dotted with reflections of the moon across its surface. I was about to give up and go to bed, to just call it a wash and try to forget the awkward moment had ever happened. If James wanted to pretend it hadn't, maybe I ought to as well.

Suddenly, a shrieking cry rent the air. A dog's pained yelping, the sound so shrill and awful it made every nerve in my body tense and alert. I looked up, eyes wide.

James's bedroom door flung opened. I wasn't sure if he looked pale on account of the moonlight and darkness or if the blood had drained from his face at the sound of the crying dog. He rushed across the living room, wearing only boxers and an old white undershirt. He moved past me without really seeing me, his eyed flashing wild. I leaped up, casting the book down, and hurried after him.

"Was that my brother?" I asked, panicked. James was too focused on getting outside to answer me. "What's happening? Where are we going?"

"Nowhere. We are not going anywhere. I am going to check on Sirius," James replied.

"I want to help."

"There is a full grown werewolf out there," James said. "You're staying here."

"But --"

"Stay."

His voice was firm and low and I felt the breath catch in me at the commanding tone, felt the core of me scream in response. It wasn't the time, but damn the things his voice could do to me...

James pushed his way out the door and onto the porch of the cabin.

"Please be careful," I begged. I bit my lip.

James looked up at me, our eyes meeting, and he nodded once, then ran down the steps of the porch and into the trees beside the cabin without hesitation.

I hovered back, my heart thumping.

What was it like to move so quickly, so selflessly, with so little weighing of options as all that? To simply know that a friend was in need and to just -- go? Despite the danger?

There was a thud-thud-thud on the stairs outside and I stuck my head out of my room to see what the noise was about. Sirius was dragging his Hogwarts trunk down the stairs and the heavy wood was slamming into each step as he tugged it along, anger and determination on his face. His wand was twisted up in his hair and a light sweat on his brow.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stepping onto the landing. Kreacher hovered at my heels, peering out from around my knees, clutching onto my calves, ears low with suspicion.

"What's it look like, sodcake?" he panted as he pulled the trunk down the next step with a bang.

I watched as he pulled the trunk across the landing. The metal corners dragged lines in the wood flooring and I thought of how angry Mother would be when she saw what he had done. "Careful with that," I snapped and I went 'round the back of it, grabbing onto the opposite handle and lifting it up so it didn't scratch anymore. "Where are you going?"

"Why would you care?" he snapped.

"Because you're - because -" I didn't know how to answer.

He snorted. "Because you want some information to hold over me to threaten to give to Mother to manipulate me and be a little prick."

"No. I just --"

He stumbled a bit as the trunk went over the edge of the landing and started sliding a bit easier down toward the next landing. I followed after him, worried he would fall over, but he managed not to despite the added velocity of the trunk at the angle. When he stopped on the landing in front of the library, he met my eyes again. "Don't act like you care now, Regulus."

"But what if I do care?"

Sirius scoffed.

"Sirius --"

"We both know better than that," he snapped, and he dragged the trunk across the floor quickly, leaving the grooves in the wood right outside the library door, looking at me with menace in his expression. He'd done it on purpose. "Something for her to remember me by," he said darkly, and he went down the last flight to the ground floor with the trunk.

I followed.

"Besides," he said as he got to the hallway. I grabbed hold of the handle so he couldn't leave grooves all the way to the front door. He staggered backwards on his end as I carried the other. "You should be happy I'm leaving. You know what it means, don't you? If I leave, I'll be disowned - officially, legally - and it means you'll be the sole heir to the most Noble House of Black. It means the vault and all the gold in it will be yours one day, along with this piece of rubbish house, and that -- that scabby, manky old thing you love snogging so much."

He nodded at the landing and I turned to look back - Kreacher stood on the top step.

I turned back to Sirius, "I don't snog Kreacher."

Sirius said, "Wouldn't shock me if you did."

"At least I don't snog a werewolf," I said crossly.

Sirius paused on the stoop just outside the front door and looked at me, a grin spreading across his face. He leaned in toward me, gripping the handle of the door, and stared directly into my eyes. "I do a lot more than snog my werewolf," his voice was low, "I shag him, too."

And as I reacted in shock, Sirius laughed madly, a loud barking sound that echoed in the house behind me and Kreacher reached up and folded his ears against his head, blocking out the noise of it. Sirius pulled shut the door, and I swore, jumping back out of the way, and stared at the back of it.

I thought about going after him. Thought about following him as I'd done down the stairs. Thought of having Kreacher trace him, thought of begging him not to go, or, better, begging him to let me go, too.

But I didn't.

And I wondered if things would've been different if I had done any of those things.

I found out later that Siris spent a few weeks on the streets like a homeless muggle. Gods only knows how he found food and shelter those days - I never asked, he hadn't shared.

But I wished I'd done more.

I could've sent Kreacher to find him and bring him food, at least.

I didn't.

So when I heard that dog cry again, moments after James had gone into the woods - that same piercing shriek - I ran for the door.

It didn't matter my mind was screaming, telling me to stay inside, cursing at me not to go out there. It didn't matter that there was a full grown werewolf.

I was going to help my brother.

I had to help him.

I already had enough guilt from not helping him.

The blue night tinged the beach sand so it was hard to see the line between where the ocean met the land. There were dog prints in the sand, which James must not have noticed in his hurry. I rushed, running, my feet dipping into the sand, sliding over it haphazardly so that I had to catch myself from falling several times, my knees hitting the ground and pushing myself back up... and then I heard the snarling growl and I looked over my shoulder.

The werewolf had broken onto the beach, and my eyes widened as I fell onto my stomach on the sand.

"You always were such a clumsy thing," Sirius's voice echoed in my mind as the wind was blown out of my chest.

I winced and rolled onto my feet, pushing up from the ground as quickly as I could. The werewolf was between me and the cabin now, I had no choice but to run out across the sand, which seemed foolish in so many ways. For one, where would I hide from it in the great open space of the beach? There was no where - aside from the flimsy folding lounge chair Remus had been using close to the shore and what good would that do against a werewolf? And not to mention, wouldn't the moon energize there werewolf even further, out of the cover of the trees? I strained trying to remember if I'd read that in an actual book or in one of those stupid children's story books that were more to scare kids than to educate on magical creatures.

"What's that?" I asked Sirius once, laying on our stomachs in Mother's library as he poured over a book, feet kicking the air.

"A werewolf," Sirius had answered and pretended at baring his teeth.

We'd been fascinated as children in that way that kids were often fascinated with the things that terrified them. We both had nightmares because of that book rather regularly.

It was amusing that Sirius had ended up married to a werewolf, considering he'd once had nightmares from reading a book about one.

What would Sirius and Remus do, though, if the werewolf ate his little brother?

The black dog remained my focus, despite the sound of the wolf coming along behind me. But the dog was moving forward, too, not seeing me following behind him, and I watched as the dog launched itself into the ocean water, a wave collapsing over his head as he disappeared into it.

Could the werewolf swim? I wondered. Perhaps Sirius - the dog - was trying at getting away from the werewolf by going where he couldn't follow?

Suddenly there was another sound directly behind me and I looked back for a split moment to see what it was. A gigantic stag had broken from the woods - he was taller than even the werewolf, which was large in size - even for a wolf. The antler's of the stag were thick and strong looking, and he was that sort of majestic-looking stag that had thick fur around his neck like he was a member of the royal family. His hooves dug into the sand, spraying it behind him and he rushed after the wolf, making a terrific sound like I'd never imagined a stag making before. He lowered his antlers.

Oh gods, he was going to spear the wolf right through with those things! I couldn't watch, and I turned back to look at the sea.

Sirius's head was bobbing up and down in the water, going in and out of heavy waves that crashed down over him as he floated, arms out, his hair soaked to his head. I looked along the shore and there were waves crashing, looming high and slamming down against the sand, dragging back and leaving shells and rocks and crabs in its wake, the sand dark from the sea water sinking in.

I couldn't swim.

The sound of the stag grunting and the werewolf's loud breathing was still right at my heels.

I was going to die one way or another.

Was it better to be torn apart by a blood thirsty werewolf's teeth or crashed against a rock in the grips of the ocean, assuming I didn't drown first?

A loud growl at my back propelled me forward and I had my answer.

I'd take my chances with the sea. At least there I had a shot that maybe Sirius would see me and come to my aid and help me swim - then we could help each other back to shore - and maybe we'd be alright...

I ran for it.

The ocean waves roared loudly and the closer I got the more it drowned out the sound of the wolf. The shoreline was taking a beating, the waves thundering as loud as my heart was pounding. Why couldn't it be more calm? Safer?

And then my eyes spotted it - like a red carpet rolled out, a narrow passageway between the crashing waves had formed, a tunnel like area  that was smooth in comparison to the waves. I rushed into that space, plunging into the water with as much speed as I could muster, trying not to let my fear slow me down.

I was, after all, diving into an area as tepid as bath water on the surface.

It wasn't until I was in and felt the force of the sea wrap around me with unparalleled strength that I realized what I'd dove into wasn't at all a calm - it was the rip tide... and it pulled me under faster than a blink of the eye, my body crashing into the floor, my arm tearing on a rock, the bubbles of my breath streaming behind me as I screamed, arms flailing, trying to kick against the persistent tug. The sea was unrelenting, though, and I ran out of air about the same time that my eyes lost track of the blurry sight of the moon.