Sirius was laying across the arm chair at the campsite - one leg up on the back of the chair, the other hanging over the arm, his head laying on the other arm, smoking. He blew smoke straight up into the air and James lazily magicked the puffs into shapes from across the fire that glowed between them.

"I can't stop thinking about the invisible sheep," Sirius said.

James laughed, "That's disturbing."

Sirius looked over, grinning, "And you lot say I'm the dirty one?"

James smirked as Sirius shook his head dramatically, taking a pull off his cigarette, as though he were deeply offended. "What about the invisible sheep, Sirius?"

Sirius sat up, twisting in the chair so he could knot his legs up like a pretzel and leaned forward, elbows to knees. "Where do the invisible sheep go?" He wagged his cigarette, sending embers raining to the ground before him.

"Over the line of the charms, I told you."

"So say there were sheep just now over yonder in Muggle-Land --"

James snorted at the words over yonder in muggle land.

"-- and they go a'wanderin' over the line --"

"The fuck is wrong with you, mate?" James asked at a'wanderin'. 

"-- as wizards, can we still see the sheep? Or do they go the way of thestrals? Invisible unless you've witnessed death?"

"Sheep don't seem dark enough to be omens of death," James said.

Sirius held his cigarette loosely between his teeth and lower lip, his face quirked funny as he did so, and his brows knit together.

"What?" James asked. 

"I've just had a very - a very strange epiphany," Sirius said, and he sat back, reaching up and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He shook his had, "Fuck." The joke was gone from his expression.

James sat forward, recognizing Sirius's solemn expression. "What is it, Sirius? What's the matter?"

Sirius scratched his nose and tossed what was left of the cigarette into the fire before him, his eyes meeting James's and he said, "Regulus could see the thestrals."

Sirius hadn't much mentioned his brother since March. James shifted in his seat, unsure what to ask as a follow up question, or what to say. He waited patiently while Sirius stared at an empty spot over James's shoulder, processing. 

Finally, when this had stretched on what seemed like hours but was really only a minute or two, James asked, "What thestrals, exactly?"

Sirius looked caught off guard, as though he'd forgotten James was there and was just brought back to the present by the sound of his voice. "Father took me and Regulus to a World Cup once, when we were small. It's one of the only good memories I have of Father," Sirius added, "Though I'm afraid to think too much about it because I'll reckon there was probably more to the things that happened that day than my young mind comprehended that I may just understand more than I want to now, looking back." He paused, shaking his head, and said, "I don't even remember who was playing except that one of the teams had thestrals as their mascot --"

"That's West France - the Morlaix Morte-Mares," James said, knowledgeably. "When the International team's made up largely of Mares they bring the Thestrals to the Cup. When it's the East -" James smirked, "You're going to love this, but they bring magical sheep."

Sirius laughed, "Visible ones?"

James shrugged. "I mean they brought invisible horses so why not invisible sheep."

Sirius said, "Well that's just it, innit? Regulus could see them. And I've only just realized it. He could see them. He was afraid of them."

James asked, "How old were you lot?"

"Had to be 'round about eight and six... much older or I'd have been demoted to spare by then."

"Demoted to spare?"

Sirius waved a palm, indicating he didn't want to discuss that bit. 

James frowned.

He had just opened his mouth to say something to Sirius, who was lost in thought once more, when Oliver and Jasper returned from their trip to the merchant booths. Oliver waved the programs they'd gotten and tossed a pair of omnioculars to James and one to Sirius. Sirius's pair hit him in the chest and fell in his lap and something about that made him laugh a short barking sound before getting up and disappearing into the tent. 

"Is he alright?" Jasper asked.

James shrugged, "You know Sirius," he answered, not wanting to get into it much. He held up the omnioculars. "These are grand!" 

"Yeah, and look what Dad got me." Oliver showed James the special edition of Quidditch Through the Ages. James's eyebrow went up at the word Dad and he glanced at Jasper, who flushed happily as he sat down in his seat 'round about the fire. Oliver launched into a long diatribe about the facts he'd learned already by leafing through the book, showing James the history of the rivalry between England and France and the captains, voice coming out in an excited rush.

Meanwhile, inside the tent, Sirius had thrown himself onto the bed and lay on top of it all spread out like a starfish. He stared up at the billowing canvas roof and pulled another cigarette out of his box of Players, but didn't actually light it, just holding it between his lips as he lay there on his back.

"Sirius?" 

Lily's voice came suddenly from the nightstand and he rolled over, catching the cigarette in his palm, and saw her face in the small bit of mirror James had leaning against the lantern there. 

"Hello Lilth Darling," Sirius said lowly.

"Are you alright?" she asked, an anxious look on her face.

"Yes, deer," Sirius said smoothly, and he kicked his feet up behind him like a teenage gurl, holding his chin in his palms and staring at Lily. "I've simply had an attack of the memory. Nothing too dastardly."

Lily said, "You forget that I can feel what you're feeling."

Sirius stared at her for a moment, then sighed and fell over on his side like a dog, staring up at her from where his head landed on the pillow.

"Out with it."

"My little brother could see thestrals before he ought to have done."

Lily said, "What? Regulus?"

"No my other little brother -" he said sarcastically, "Yes, Regulus."

Lily frowned. "I mean, I suppose he - he would be able to see thestrals. Given his... proximity... to... You Know Who."

"No, I mean... when we were small. He could see them when we were small." Sirius explained about how Orion had taken the brothers to the world cup ("I remember seeing that when I incorporated you," she said), and how he and James had been talking about invisible sheep just now ("Is that not the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard, Lilith? I cannot tell you how much I adore knowing about these invisible sheep," he added), and how that had reminded him of the invisible horses ("There's so much invisible livestock in this story," Lily said,) and, ultimately, how Regulus had been able to see them at the match they'd gone to. When they were small. When they were kids.

"Oh honey," Lily said gently, knowing without Sirius saying what he was worried about before he could say it.

"I can't believe that it didn't occur to me then what it meant that he could see them," Sirius said. "No wonder the little sodcake was having bloody nightmares."

Lily was quiet a moment. Then. "Sirius, I have some journals he wrote... before he -" she paused. "They were at St. Mungo's, in his personal things, which James and I have at the house."

Sirius's eyes rolled up to look at hers through the mirror. "Yeah?" he asked.

Lily nodded. "If you want to see them - they ought to be with you anyway. I've got them in my trunk for safe keeping. I knew you'd want them one day."

Sirius sat up, the quidditch match forgotten, the invisible sheep forgotten, everything forgotten. "I do. I do want them," he said. 

"Okay," Lily said. "I mean, you can come and get them whenever you want to."

"I will at some point," Sirius nodded. He paused, biting his lip, then said, "Thanks Lilith. I've got to dash now, though."

"Okay," she said. Then, "Sirius?"

"Yes, darling?"

"It isn't your fault he could see the Thestrals."

There was a long pause between them and Lily could see the words she'd said weighing on Sirius as he looked down at his hands for a moment, then closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Finally, he looked up at her face and nodded, "Yeah, I Know," he said. But she wasn't so sure that he did. "Bye Lilith."

Sirius slid the unsmoked cigarette back into his pack and got up, grabbing his leather jacket from the end of the bed where he'd thrown it when he and James had finished up erecting the tent. He slid it on and stepped back outside. James was looking at a book with Oliver while Jasper was smiling, listening to their conversation.

"I'm off," Sirius announced.

"Off?" James asked, looking up.

"What do you mean you're off?" Jasper echoed.

Oliver looked up, too.

"I have something that needs doing."

"Is it Remus?" teased Jasper and Oliver choked on a laugh, sending himself into a horrible coughing fit.

"No it isn't Remus," Sirius said. Then added slyly - "This time."

Jasper laughed.

James looked concerned, though, despite the casualness of Sirius's tone. "Alright, Padfoot?"

"Spiffing," Sirius replied. "I'll be back before entry time."

James raised an eyebrow.

Sirius blew him a couple air kisses and with a crack had disapparated away without any further explanation.

"He always that weird?" Jasper asked, chuckling nervously.

"You know Sirius," James said for the second time.

"Merlin's beard!" Oliver suddenly exclaimed and Jasper and James both looked at him in surprise. Oliver's eyes were wide. "Hang on, I've just realized something. Dad -- you can talk sign language."

Jasper looked confused, "Um. I mean... some, yeah. Dunno how much of it we made up, honestly, my brothers and I, but --"

James's face was alight, too, already ahead of where Oliver was going with.

"No but Dad, James needs to know sign. For Macy's sister, Sarah. James - James - tell Dad about the flying lessons," Oliver, who had heard about James's promise from none other than Macy herself at school, was up on his feet now, bouncing foot to foot in excitement. "Tell him about your promise, James. Tell him."

"Sarah needs to learn how to fly a broomstick," James said. "I promised I'd figure out how to include her in our flying lessons at Hogwarts."

Jasper's eyes met James's and he said, "Oh Potter. That's easy."

Sirius appeared in the alley behind the flat in East London after a series of five disapparation points along the way. It was raining in London, the droplets splashing in oily-looking puddles on the car, where he'd appeared, just behind the rubbish bins. He zipped his jacket and ran over to the metal stairs, splashing through puddles with his Doc Martens, and headed up to the flat. His hair was stringy and soaked by the time he pushed opened the door.

The flat was quiet and dark, Remus's art things spread all over the coffee table before the couch, but the canvas he'd been working on was gone from the tripod easel by the bookcase, so Sirius knew his husband had gone to his class. He shrugged off his leather jacket, hung it up on the hook by the door and kicked off his boots. He reached into the pocket for his cigarettes and his lighter and headed for the hallway.

The bedroom door was open, light spilling into the hall as Sirius headed to it in his stocking feet, humming quietly to himself tunelessly. He shook the unsmoked cigarette back out of the pack and lit it as he stepped into the bedroom.

Regulus's portrait hung on the wall over the nightstand where it belonged, and, surprisingly, he was awake, mouth pursed and looking across the room. His head snapped to Sirius as he entered and he stared, raising his chin slightly.

Sirius took a drag off the cigarette and stopped beside the bed, staring up at the portrait on the wall, his cheeks sucked in as he inhaled the smoke. He used two fingers to pinch the cigarette and lower it, blew the smoke out over the dresser, eyes meeting the portrait's.

"Do you feel like talking?" he asked the portrait, a bit of a challenge to his voice. "Because I sure as fuck feel like talking to you about now." He put his cigarette back in his mouth.

To his surprise, the portrait's eyes turned to look at him squarely. "You ought not to be smoking that."

Shocked, Sirius's mouth dropped opened and he lost his grip on the cigarette as it fell to the floor. "Fuck!" he yelped, and stamped it before it could catch fire on the carpet, then hurriedly plucked it up and waved his wand to disappear the mark it had made. 

Under the bed, Peter Pettigrew was thanking his lucky stars that Sirius hadn't looked to his right to see him hidden there, having only just returned the portrait to it's place on the wall. Tears of nervousness streamed down his cheeks as he stared at the ankles of Sirius's torn-up jeans and dirty socks, shaking.

Sirius looked up at the portrait, holding the cigarette now, eyes wide, gaping at it. "You actually fucking spoke."

"Well no shit, what did you think I was going to do? Stare at you and yawn?"

"That's what you've been doing," Sirius answered, his heart slamming in his chest so hard he could practically feel his sternum vibrating. "I didn't realize you could speak all of the way yet. All you've said since March is geshundhiet." 

Portrait-Regulus stared at Sirius, his chin slightly elevated in a self-important sort of way. "Yes, well. Actually what I said was bless you."