Mister Moony

From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; from the same source I have not taken My sorrow; And all I loved, I loved alone. They say you should never judge a book by its cover. It's a statement that is used all too frequently, yet I can think of nothing that holds more truth. My life is full of contradiction. What you see on the surface is only a shadow of the boy beneath. People see the keen student, he who opts for a book before Quidditch and values studying above all else; the perfect prefect. And if that's all they see, then I have done my job well. The bitter truth is I am defined by the curse. I'm forever a slave to the moon and the pain which that threatening orb instils; I'm a monster. Beneath the calm façade, there's an ocean of resentment that I dare not dip into. Maintaining control is my only means of living with the curse, yet control is something I severely lack. It's our final year at Hogwarts and I know that once I leave my life will be out of my hands. It may not be set out in law, but there's no denying it; no one employs werewolves.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

It was something he had always hated even as a child, having to make a choice. He had had that desire stamped out of him young, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking for himself at that age – he was supposed to follow what his parents said and did and never question it. That’s what he had done for years and at first it was effortless he would walk and talk and act the part, it wasn’t until he started school that he started to question just why he was supposed to do this and that.  That was when he had begun to learn the hard way that that wasn’t something he was permitted to do. He had learnt at first with harsh words and severe looks and later at the end of his Father’s wand if he was home and if not his Mothers and he couldn’t honestly say which was worse. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that if he simply kept his mouth shut and did what he was told he was rewarded, praised and treated like an adult. So he had gone with the easy route, unlike his brother who had never stopped questioning and before he left he had even resorted to provoking their parents to the point that even Regulus was scared of what they would do.

He had the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as he regarded Remus that this wasn’t much of a choice at all. This was his only option and while that did make things easier it also angered Regulus because he was bitter against the old man who would give him knowing looks in the corridors yet he wouldn’t do a damn thing. His foot began to twitch beneath the table and he knew that he needed to move before it got worse and his whole leg would follow it so he stood himself up, stretching himself gracefully and acting as if nothing was amiss before he turned away from Lupin and began to leisurely stroll around the room. He wanted nothing more than to pace but he knew better than that, Merlin moving was probably too big of a giveaway of his agitation as it was but he couldn’t of sat still for much longer. His fingers fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt as he walked and he closed his eyes as he imagined himself stood in the Headmasters office professing everything. His stomach rolled at the thought.

‘I want to trust you.’ The words were laughable but they were meant truthfully he knew and he wouldn’t throw them back into Lupin’s face, not after he’d promised to himself that he would do whatever he could to make this easier. It was true that Regulus had given Lupin rather a lot of his trust but that didn’t mean that his word was gold – Regulus barely knew the boy when it came down to it. He knew he was simply prolonging admitting that he’d be following Lupin’s words but he wasn’t quite ready to get them out of his mouth just yet. He had thus far managed to ignore the warm feeling he’d felt when Remus had said he wouldn’t give up on him and as Regulus looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye he knew that he was telling the truth, he wouldn’t give up on him. “Self-destructive.” He muttered to himself as he turned once more around an old desk, lip curling slightly as his robe swept against the surface and gathered dust, what did Filch even do all day?

He straightened his back, cleared his throat and turned back towards Lupin with his mask firmly in place. A wry and slightly dark smile curled on his lips and he clasped his hands against his stomach and leaned forwards as if he was eager, “Not much choice in it really do I? Either way I’m going to end up my life in the hands of another person – better the devil you know and all that.” He waved a hand as if to dismiss his words before shrugging his shoulders and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his robes. “Thanks for the pep talk Lupin, I can take it from here. Best get back to your chums hmm? I’m sure you have some third years just begging to be terrorized.” With that he stood back and stared at him with raised eyebrows, the path to the door clear.

He didn’t for a moment believe that Lupin was really just going to turn his back on him now but he hoped that he would. He’d made the mistake of gushing out his feelings to him like some Hufflepuff 2nd year with a crush already, he didn’t want the Gryffindor to see him beg – which he no doubt would have to to Dumbledore. There were also matters that he didn’t doubt Dumbledore would bring up regarding his family and Regulus didn’t want Remus there for that, he didn’t want him to get an even more negative view on them than he already must have from what Sirius had said.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus watched Regulus with a careful gaze as he slowly rose to his feet and almost – but not quite – paced the classroom. There was something about his actions which seemed strained, and Remus could hardly blame him for that. Regulus was on the verge of breaking; it didn’t take the most observant seventh year Gryffindor to realise that. But he put on a good show. It was astonishing how alike he and Sirius were when it came to masking what they were really feeling, really thinking. But Remus had been exposed to it long enough to recognise the signs. That’s all it was, a show, and Remus didn’t believe it for a second. However he knew better than to mention it. Remus didn’t know what to do when faced with Sirius’ brother, but he knew better than to test the pride of a Black, pride which was already very much under threat.

Rotating in his chair so as to follow the movements of the boy, Remus’ brow was still gently furrowed in a frown. It was an expression that graced his features often, seeing as he had a great deal to worry about without Regulus’ problems on top of his own, and yet there was a greater sense of trouble working through his mind than there usually was given the severity of  what Regulus had confessed to him. This wasn’t about anyone’s sorry existence. Regulus could stand to lose a great deal more than his pride, and Remus felt a sense of responsibility over him that he presumed was what his fellow Marauders had been feeling towards him all this time. It was strangely relieving, not relying on the help and kindness and friendship of others, but being the one to offer it to another instead. But Regulus was right; as much as Remus might have denied it in the past, and as much as he’d continue to deny it, there never really was a choice. That was the nature of war. It enveloped you, consumed you, entirely against your will. Regulus didn’t have much say in the matter, but he could fight it.

Remus flinched at Regulus’ words. As easily as that, Remus was dismissed. With a quick word of thanks, Regulus cleared the path for him to leave. Only Remus sensed that it was a challenge. If he so much as flinched towards the door he’d be doing the very thing he’d sworn not to do, turning his back on Regulus after he’d exposed his darkest fears. Remus would not rise to the challenge. It might have been easier on them both if he had, but despite what appearances might suggest he didn’t bend to everyone’s will quite so easily. If that were the case, he as well as James, Sirius and Peter probably would have been expelled (or at least suspended) years ago. Remus could be incredibly stubborn when he set his mind to something. Rising to his feet, Remus stood so that he was on a level with Regulus, hands in his pockets, clearly conveying that he had no intention of bailing.

“Then put your life in the right hands,” he began, returning to the conversation from which they’d departed leaving it very much unfinished.  “Put it in the hands of someone who cares whether you live or die.” Remus lost some of his composure as he continued. It terrified him that Regulus might have questioned this, thus his voice almost rung with challenge.  But there was no denying it; Dumbledore was a damn sight better than Voldemort. Remus knew this because the headmaster had been kind and just enough to allow him a place in the castle alongside the pure, and by pure Remus referred to everyone whose blood wasn’t tainted with lycanthropy. Perhaps if Regulus knew this he might think differently of Dumbledore. Or perhaps he’d be alot less willing to accept the counsel of a werewolf. “Voldemort can only promise you one thing. It’s what he’s set out to do from the very beginning. You do have a choice and if you choose Dumbledore you stand a chance of surviving at least.”

Remus took a step so as to close some of the space between them. There was something about the name, the topic of discussion, the fact that they were discussing their own deaths and the war that held the wizarding war in its tight clutches, that compelled Remus to speak quietly, despite the Muffliato spell he’d cast upon the room. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t going to talk to him?” Remus asked, the wince in his expression betraying just how much he had invested in this. The third years could wait. Peeves could wait. Remus may be a prefect, but under no circumstances did patrolling the corridors take precedence over this.  

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus watched as Lupin just looked at him blankly, completely refusing to even comment on the comments Regulus had made and instead just looking at him as if he was a particularly boring piece of homework. It rankled him, he had never been one to demand attention from others unless he had to but right now he felt as if he was being slighted by the Gryffindor. He was like some sort of marble statue, not reacting to pretty much anything Regulus had said and the thought of spending any more time together being treated like this caused him to wish he’d just kept it all to himself and tried harder to find a way out on his own. Atleast then he wouldn’t have been left feeling more worthless than he already had been and he could of kept some of the pride he’d basically stripped himself of previously. He opted to remain silent, if Lupin wanted to treat this as if it was a business meeting so be it, Regulus wasn’t going to put himself out there if he was just going to get it thrown back in his face.

He wasn’t quite sure on how long that would last though, he felt too comfortable around Lupin even after everything that had just happened. He could still remember the moments that he been spent in the library in peace before he’d gone and opened his mouth and brought this all down upon him. He could still see it as if it was happening right now, he’d felt marginally happy for the first time in weeks that he was going to get some sort of social interaction where he wasn’t secretly plotting out ways to escape, even if it was in the form of civil silence – it was better than the alternative.

When he spoke Regulus just looked at him with an expression of astonishment on his face – choose his side. It sounded so easy when it was put like that, choose Lupin’s side and then atleast he would only have one side after his neck but he had to think of the bigger picture. This wasn’t just about him as much as he may of made it seem like it was, it was about his family too. While Regulus wouldn’t say he loved his parents with any sort of affection like most children did but he did respect them and he would not allow any harm to befall them. That’s what would no doubt happen if he just skipped off to Dumbledore asking for his protection – which Regulus didn’t doubt the old coot could provide. Regulus opened his mouth to say as much but then Lupin was speaking again and Regulus felt the desire to frown but he pushed that away, if Lupin wanted to keep his face blank then so would he. The fact that Lupin thought Hogwarts was safe was a joke, as if Regulus was the only person to be recruited from the student population by now, if he did switch sides and it got out there would be no way he’d survive a month – The Dark Lord would want to use him as a lesson he didn’t doubt that.

Part of him wanted to be able to tell Lupin that he was right, that he’d be safe at the school because by the looks of him he didn’t need anything else to stress him out on top of all this but he couldn’t do that, if Dumbledore wasn’t sharing out the information then Regulus would – it was the least he could do. “People from the outside can’t reach me correct. That doesn’t stop anyone who’s within the walls though does it?” He asked with a helpless shrug of his shoulders, “I’d like to say that I can join your side Lupin but the truth of it is – I can’t. I have my family to consider, what do you think will happen to them when it gets out they not only have one bloodtraitor for a son but two?” He leaned back in his chair, the nails on his fingers digging into the skin on the back of his hands as he forced himself to keep calm and not panic. “Who would even accept me if I switched sides anyway? Do you really think anyone is ever going to trust me? You don’t even trust me so why should anyone else.” Hell, he didn’t even trust himself if he was quite honest, he knew that if it came down to it – he would bow under the pressure and do whatever he was told. He wasn’t brave or noble or anything like that, he was a coward and he was weak but he did want to survive. “It’s a hopeless situation Lupin, I did tell you that earlier, give up now – I’ll hold no grudge.”

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus was beginning to get incredibly frustrated. On one hand, Regulus was much like a piece of homework, but one which was impossible to complete with any success. Remus worried over the puzzle that was laid out before him, but unlike any piece of homework he'd ever done in his time at Hogwarts he couldn't see a solution. He knew it was naive to say Regulus could choose sides. Sirius had done it, but it had cost him something. It had put Regulus at greater risk, as was now apparent. Sirius might not have realised it at the time, but Remus doubted he'd give much thought to it regardless. It hadn't mattered because the simple fact was  Grimmauld Place was no home for Sirius. Remus didn't need to be told that Regulus' own departure would prove even more hazardous. It was merely the bane of being an only son in a time of war. You couldn't leave your family unprotected, not without feeling the sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

"It's not hopeless," Remus said. Hell, if a werewolf could attend Hogwarts, find three of the best friends known to manking, and even make it to his seventh year without his secret coming out to the entire school than anything was possible. But how? How was it possible, because the last time he'd read the papers it was glaringly obvious that You Know Who was winning this war. People were killed every day and yet the cells of Azkaban prison were far from being full. No one had shed light on how to destroy You Know Who, only the most powerful dark wizard of their time. How two students of Hogwarts could get out of this unscathed was beyond him. 

"Speak to Dumbledore, Regulus," he continued. There was a hint of a plea in his voice that was entirely involuntary and he hated himself for letting his voice betray him like that. Remus was normally so reserved, normally the master of his own emotions so that if he couldn't deal with them he could at least deny them when he needed to, deny them to the rest of the school. But his utter failure to control them on this particular occasion was precisely that which had led him here. Remus was angry, bitter, unable to fathom what lay beyond the walls of Hogwarts and what his place in it might be, and so he had turned to a creature who appeared at first glance more desperate than he. He just so happened to go by the name of Regulus Black. 

"Speak to Dumbledore. If anyone has a solution, it's him." Remus seemed to be struggling with his next words, willing himself to say them despite the fact that Regulus would probably spit a retort in response. "I want to trust you. Especially as you've clearly taken it upon yourself to trust me. Regulus, if you trust me than believe me when I say you should speak to Dumbledore." Remus refused to have his faith in Dumbledore questioned. Dumbledore had granted him his very existence as he knew it. Had he not allowed him into his school, Remus would have been home-schooled, he never would have made friends, never would have been a Marauder, and never would have gone by the nickname Moony. And these were amongst the few things Remus valued, even more so than his life, which was rather pitiful even with them to make it more bearable. 

However the notion that Dumbledore might have already known about this was troubling. Remus wasn't without doubt. He had spent many an hour contemplating his own role in the war after leaving Hogwarts and he had his suspicions about what that might be. It came in handy that he was a werewolf, and it had occurred to him that Dumbledore might wish to make use of that. However that's all it was, a suspicion. What if he saw that in Regulus too? What if this was all some grand scheme of the headmasters? It was mind boggling. Disturbing even. Regulus shook the thought from his mind, appealing to the part of Regulus that had seen something in him that enabled him to speak of this in the first place. "I've already told you I'm not giving up, so stop trying to scare me off. I've faced worse than the likes of you anyway." 

[absolutely-adoerable-blog]

Doe and Remus || Waiting

[absolutely-adoerable-blog]

The last thing Dory felt like right then was smiling, but she felt that familiar and automatic pull at the corners of her lips as a smile appeared on Remus’ face. She only let it grace her features very briefly, and then she fought to keep it away. Either Sirius hadn’t yet told Remus what had happened, or the other boy was playing dumb. There could have been any number of reasons for Remus to be playing dumb. Perhaps Sirius had told the story in such a way as to omit his involvement in what had happened. In that case, Remus might not be interested at all in what Doe had to say. He and Sirius were closer friends than Doe was to any of them. They were also fiercely loyal - any moron could see that. No way would they take her side against another in the group. Perhaps he was playing dumb because he wasn’t interested in any of the stupid drama going on around him. So she and Sirius had been in a spat, so what? It happened all the time between multitudes of people in the castle. This was nothing new and was about as interesting as one of Binns’ lectures on golblin revolts. Or, perhaps Remus just didn’t want to get in the middle. Perhaps he didn’t want to have to pick a side.

The thought almost brought laughter from Dory. She and Remus weren’t that good of mates. He wouldn’t care about losing her friendship. Hell, he didn’t even seem upset that they hadn’t spoken or spent time together since the incident by the lake.

The realization that he really wouldn’t care about the outcome or its effect on Doe made the fight against a smile much easier. Even the annoyance she had begun to feel at the mention of Sirius ebbed, only to be replaced by a feeling of loneliness. She should have just gone to her dormitory and stayed there. Or maybe she should have just said a simple ‘hello’ to Remus and let him pass with nothing more said. She could have continued to wait until Lily appeared. Lily, at least, accepted Doe’s friendship. She wouldn’t pick a side, and if she did, most likely it would be Dory’s. She would listen to Dory and maybe even offer advice. Then again, maybe Doe really should have just stuck around her dormitory. She could have found a book to read. Maybe she could instead find an empty classroom and deal with her agitation in other ways. Maybe people were the last thing she needed to be dealing with right then.

“Casanova, right,” she scoffed bitterly, her eyes rolling once. She really wanted to utter names and insults, but had a feeling his friend wouldn’t appreciate hearing them. “I might have been waiting for him, but now that I think about it, it would be a terrible idea to see him right now.”

She pulled her bag to the front of her and fumbled with it slightly, finally reaching a hand inside and tugging on a piece of fabric. It grudgingly emerged from her bag, attempting to bring ink bottles and quills with it. Everything about that git was just disagreeable with her that day, wasn’t it? She folded it in half quickly and then held it out for Remus to take.

“Anyway, as long as we’re on the subject of that” git “er, him…. Would you be so kind as to return this jumper to him? The” idiot “I mean, he, managed to leave it behind the other day when we were… studying in the library.”

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus wasn't stupid. He was naturally observant and so he'd always thought he was a pretty good judge of character. There was also the fact that he knew Sirius pretty well, having only spent the past six years alongside him. They were friends, best friends, not quite brothers like James and Sirius, but they didn't need to be. They were Marauders. Remus knew from experience that Sirius rarely did any studying in the library. 

His amber gaze flickering to the jumper which Dorcas held out to him, Remus was loathed to take it, loathed to be little more than an owl in their lover's spat. He touched the tip of his thumb to the corner of his lips, as he always dead when he was working through something in his mind. But he soon suppressed the resentment, leaving it to coil in the pit of his stomach, and took the jumper from her without so much as a word of judgement. In truth, Remus wasn't passing judgement in the slightest. Jealously, one which Remus refused to acknowledge himself, was at the core of his thoughts and compulsions. He really ought to come to terms with the fact that he was a werewolf. After all, he couldn't even remember a time before his condition. But the fact of the matter was that he hadn't. In fact, it felt like he was only just beginning to realise how much he was missing out on because of it. 

"Sirius fucked up, didn't he," Remus said suddenly, no longer wishing to dance around the subject or beat around the bush. It was embarrassing for them both, not to mention their efforts were utterly futile. Dorcas might not look on him as much of a friend, but Remus certainly cared about her well being. Perhaps a little took much, and maybe that was the problem. Remus simply didn't have many friends whom he considered close; it was better for everyone considering he could only supply them with secrets or lies, each a small mercy in light of what he was. 

"Look," he began, because no matter what Sirius had done Remus knew that Sirius was a better man than he normally allowed people to see. "Sirius may be hard work, but.." 

Remus struggled with the words, more so than he'd ever struggled with words before. He was very aware that he was speaking to Sirius' girlfriend, or someone who was as good as. He felt a sense of duty flare up inside him. It was his obligation as Marauder and as a mate to try and rectify the situation. 

"He's not a bad bloke," he said at length. Remus seemed to have won that small battle over his inner demons, for he finally managed a smile, one that even met his eyes this time. Of course, he didn't know what had really happened. It didn't matter regardless because Remus' loyalty to any of the Marauders wasn't likely to crumble any time soon. 

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Lupin’s words were spinning in his head and he had to force his mouth to stay closed when all he wanted was to laugh at how ridiculous he had sounded. Everyone betrayed him in the end and if Lupin wanted to lie he really needed to think of a better one – Regulus had heard them all before. He simply grunted at Remus’ words, eyes rolling and hands tightening beneath his chin marginally as he shifted a little, eyes drawn to the sweep of Remus’ hand through his hair and relaxing slightly at the way it stuck up for a couple of moments before falling back down against his head. Luckily unlike Potter and his brother when Remus did that action Regulus knew he wasn’t doing it because he wanted to look presentable, he did it because it was a tick of his, something that Regulus jotted down mentally to look out for in the future – people watching had always been something he had enjoyed and seeing as him and Lupin would be spending time together from now on it would do him good to learn as much about the boy as he could. Regulus never liked feeling vulnerable at the best of times and when in comparison with how much Lupin now knew about him it made him feel entirely uncomfortable.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he gave Lupin a mocking smile, “Oh how very kind of you.” Did it make Lupin feel good to speak to him as if Regulus should be licking his shoes for being given the chance to learn some spell? Regulus was positive that there were a few spells that he knew that Lupin most definitely did not – far too high and noble for a Gryffindor to use he supposed. He found the fact that people looked down on the Dark Arts highly irritating, nobody said you had to learn them if you studied them. There was that saying that people used, know thy enemy, well people should know their dark magic too it made it much easier to defend against and also – magic only became dark when it was used with that purpose in Regulus’ opinion. “I think I just pissed myself in anticipation. These pants cost me a month’s worth of allowance aswell.” He said with a small yet real grin on his face.

Remus seemed to be becoming increasingly indifferent to the fact that this was Regulus’ life that they were talking about and he couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. It was a little irritating that Remus probably thought of him as nothing more than a project or even a slight against The Dark Lord yet Regulus knew he deserved nothing more. He most definitely didn’t deserve any sort of compassion from the boy but that didn’t mean some part didn’t crave it, didn’t want to pretend that Remus was doing this because maybe he actually cared about whether Regulus lived or died but he pushed those thoughts aside, like he had thought earlier – he would take what he could get. He could focus on trying to gain some sort of compassion from someone when his life wasn’t on the line, right now all he needed was to keep his head straight and try his best not to piss off the Gryffindor before he managed to somehow sort out this great pile of fuck up that was his life. “I don’t know what else you want to know. I was chosen, I’m going to be marked, I could die getting the mark and if I don’t then I’ll probably die in his service by his hand or your side’s.” It was easy to list it like that, as if it wasn’t himself he was talking about but rather a piece of homework they could be working on together. “I honestly don’t know what else I can tell you, I haven’t been trusted with any information – I only know when I’m going to be marked because Bella’s pants after him like a bitch in heat.”

The relaxed moment Regulus had been basking in vanished instantly as the name rang in his head and although he was grateful for Remus’ words – he had agreed earlier that that name was never to be mentioned. He gritted his teeth and leaned back in his seat, hands moving from beneath his chin to fold on his lap and clench together, it still angered him beyond imagination that his brother’s name could still bring out this sort of reaction in him. Half the time the amount of anger and frustration he felt because of Sirius’ name was more directed at himself than his brother at all. “Good, wouldn’t want him to get jealous would we?” He spat back with a challenging tilt of his chin, did Lupin really think that Regulus didn’t know what he was doing? Regulus was far too aware of power-plays to not spot one when it was used to blatantly and part of him was actually a little surprised the Gryffindor had it in him – it was a rather Slytherin thing to do.

The smile that Lupin offered managed to cool off Regulus’ rising temper and he blew a piece of hair from his eye to cover up his sagging shoulders. He knew nothing, he honestly didn’t. All he knew was that Voldemort was recruiting and that he had been chosen and that he wouldn’t know anything until he got the mark, family he and Bella may be but her devotion to The Dark Lord was already stronger than any family bond and as much as he’d asked, she never revealed a thing. She had ended up slapping him the last time he had asked about what was going to be expected of him and had told him that he should feel honoured he’d even been selected. He hadn’t asked again, there was something in her eyes at that moment that had caused fear to pool in his stomach and his whole being to scream ‘Run, run, run.’ “Like I said, I know nothing.” He said reluctantly and added a muttered apology at the end, “Sorry.” He had very little to offer Lupin in exchange for his help and the thought that he would now be indebted to the Gryffindor frustrated him.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Regulus mocked him. Remus suspected this was just base instinct for him, and so he let it slide. And he wished he could say it didn’t leave scars quite as easily as the claws of the wolf within him but it did. It seemed simple kindness and simple small talk was beyond Regulus whereas it was Remus’ last defence, his last hope at doing this with some dignity. If this was even remotely about Remus, he would have left Regulus to his own fate and to the mercy of his aunt. Everyone knew she had none, so it would be as good as letting him enter Death Row to wait-out the time until Death finally seized hold of him. But it wasn’t about Remus. This was about Regulus. And although Remus had it in his interests to help the boy out, this was largely because Remus had made it so. If Remus only had his own interests at heart, he would have left the classroom then and there and never spoken a word to Regulus again. But he didn’t. It wasn’t because he was noble or anything, only stupid. But it did mean he cared for Regulus on some level, if only because he was a human being, more of a human being than he.  

Ignoring his snide comments, however difficult that may be, Remus pushed on. He’d already submitted to Regulus as much as he’d played the ‘power game’, which according to his fellow Marauders was something that was apparently beyond the wolf. It wasn’t in Remus’ nature to submit, at least not when he could help it, but he did it anyway and he did it willingly. Remus’ mind was whirring, partly because Regulus’ words had sunk in deeper than Remus thought he could bear and partly because he was almost at a loss. Of course the simplest answer was that Regulus should run away and never return, like Sirius, but he suspected Regulus wasn’t capable of that. It wasn’t that Remus thought him weak, or a coward, but he assumed Regulus would have done it already if it were an option.

Something that Remus picked up on though, words from Regulus which he couldn’t evade, was the way he spoke of Remus’ side. Remus didn’t have a side, that was the whole point. Remus only had Dumbledore, a man who had told Remus that he always had a place with him yet hinted that it might not be all that it seemed. Remus could only hazard a guess about where this talk of sides had arisen from; the way he spoke of Dumbledore, or the fact that he was a Gryffindor, or a friend of Sirius and James and all the rest of them. It struck Remus then and it struck him hard that Regulus didn’t know what he was, and there was a freedom in that. Of course nobody did, but it was almost as if Regulus was safe because he was almost as desperate and dependent on the kindness of others as Remus was. However, that only caused fear to coil in the pit of his stomach, because that wasn’t something he wished upon anyone.

If he was affected by Regulus’ words even in the slightest, Remus no longer let it show on his features. His face was a mask of the sorts he wore when James and Sirius decided to turn their attention to Severus, or when he heard Sirius speaking of his family with pure loathing. The world wasn’t black and white and Remus understood this perfectly. There was no use in letting Regulus piss him off any further. Besides, the likelihood that he was speaking in his rightful mind was extremely slim. Regulus believed he was as good as dead. The fact that he recognised that life under the service of You Know Who accounted for little more than that was something Remus clung to. It was reassuring. If Regulus wasn’t as convinced as the rest of his family, than maybe he wasn’t the only one.

“Then don’t die by either hand,” Remus said as if it was the simplest answer, the only answer, sitting back in his chair but keeping his amber eyes glued on Regulus.  “Choose a side. Choose my side.” Remus ignored the voice at the back of his mind, continually telling him that it wouldn’t be that easy. It would be a start. Dumbledore could protect him at least. Remus had even heard that Dumbledore was recruiting for some sort of order of resistance. It was all rumour, mere whiffs of speculation because it was a closely guarded secret. But, knowing Dumbledore, it had to be true. “Look,” Remus continued before Regulus could get in another word edgeways. “I know you don’t want anyone to know about this.” Remus breathed a sigh, pausing as if scrambling the corners of his brain for another option. To no avail. “But the only real help I can be is to tell you that you don’t have to do this. You’re at Hogwarts. You’re safe here. Your mad aunt, whoever, no one can reach you here.” There was a silent questioning behind his voice that substituted conviction. Just how much was the so called Dark Lord capable? Would he come running after someone who was essentially little more than a boy? How desperate was You Know Who in finding recruits?

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus stifled a chuckle at the look on Remus’ face, for a brief moment he had looked as exasperated with him as Andromeda often did. He was sure he’d almost caused the Gryffindor to smile before too but he couldn’t be sure, it may of merely been a twitch of his cheek but he was determined to see if he could eventually cause that sort of reaction. He wanted to know the limits he had with Lupin and how easy his buttons were to press, it would help in the long run he was sure. While he didn’t yet regret his decision of spilling all to Lupin he was unhappy with how much else he had revealed about himself – too much by far. While Lupin may be helping him now that didn’t mean he couldn’t just walk away as if none of this had ever happened or even worse, tell everyone that Regulus Black had basically begged for help. A sneer briefly rose on his lips as he imagined Lupin reporting all of this back to Sirius and he would have to lay down some ground rules and number one would be – Sirius never finds out.

He couldn’t imagine that Lupin would be all too eager to confess to his friend that he’d been helping the hated brother but nevertheless he wanted it clear, that was never to happen. His eyes lingered on the lines around the boy’s eyes and a small frown tugged at his lips before he cleared it away, there was no way someone Lupin’s age should have such stress marks on him but oddly enough – they didn’t actually look bad on the boy by half, not that he’d ever disclose that information. Regulus found himself having to bite back a nasty comment when Remus dismissed him as if he was nothing and he grudgingly followed after him, eyes narrowing as they entered the room and Lupin still hadn’t turned around. “If I didn’t know any better Lupin I’d say you’re not too happy with all the time you’re getting to spend with me.” He drawled as he closed the door behind him, hand flying to his hip as he saw Lupin draw his wand and he glanced around to see what he had done but he couldn’t spot anything. “What was that?” He asked suspiciously, pulling his own wand from it’s holster and widening his stance a little, if Lupin had gone and called for backup Regulus wouldn’t be going down without a fight though he realistically knew it was incredibly unlikely.

He kept his wand in hand as Remus turned back around but he relaxed his stance a little – he couldn’t see any sign of a coup on the boy’s face. His question caused his lips to press together and he cast his eyes away from the boy infront of him for a brief moment before looking back at him, “Don’t doubt that your precious Dumbledore already knows exactly what is going on Lupin – he just didn’t bother to try and do anything about it.” He said with more bitterness than he had intended and he took a small deep breath before tipping his chin upwards and looking at Remus with his mask fully placed back on now – he’d had enough time to calm down and get a grip on himself. “Dumbledore stays out of it. I don’t want anyone who doesn’t have to know to know. If and I mean If,” His eyes narrowed marginally, “It turns out we have to go to Dumbledore then fine but for now I would like to try and do this alone.” His lip curled for a brief moment when he realized that alone was exactly what he had been before, not so much now. “Or as alone as I can, excluding you.”

Regulus pushed his way forwards once he was sure Remus wasn’t planning some sort of attack and leisurely folded himself into one of the chairs as if they were just discussing the weather. He allowed himself a few moments to compost himself and his fingers folded under his chin and he gazed over Remus’ shoulder from beneath his hair – why now that he thought about it needed a cut. “So.” He cleared his throat and raised his eyes to meet Lupin’s, head cocking to the side a little as a small skeptical smirk drew up his face, one eyebrow raised. “You actually think it can be done then?” He no doubt believed that once Lupin but his mind to something he was determined to see it through but he honestly just couldn’t see how they were going to save Regulus from his fate but he’d try his best to take whatever risks he had to, he wanted out and he wanted freedom. There were a lot of things he wanted and new one’s he discovered daily, often from the most unexpected of places. 

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus often forgot where he’d learned that spell. It was difficult not quell his amusement at the fact that he knew something Regulus didn’t know, something nobody knew but the creator of the spell himself. Of course he felt a sliver of guilt about that. It had been Remus who had told the other Marauders about the spell. Sirius had landed himself in the Hospital Wing during a Quidditch match and couldn’t attend his classes for almost an entire week. And so James had almost been paired with Snape for their following potions class. That was not the most ideal of situations and so Remus suggested that Peter take Sirius’ place and he had worked with the Slytherin for the duration of that class instead. It was a small sacrifice, one which ensured that they all left the dungeons in one piece. It was then that he noticed that Severus’ textbook was ridden with ink, something which Remus only remembered because he was absolutely horrified at the time. Snape, it seemed, was worse at caring for books than James and Sirius put together. Remus had seen the spell scribbled in the margin and immediately he was struck with curiosity. And it just so happened that the spell had come in a great deal of handy from that moment onwards.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Regulus. Or betray you, or whatever it is you think I’m going to do.” The thought sickened Remus, now that he came to think of it. The severity of what those words meant must have been lost to Regulus, but Remus was actually in a fairly good position to do Regulus a great deal of harm. Not only did he know Regulus’ secret, but he was a monster by definition. Harm was what werewolves did, wasn’t it? And Regulus had already lost one brother; he didn’t need another broken promise to add to the lot. Remus could feel these thoughts twisting in his head, pulling him from the situation at hand, until he ran his fingers through his hair as if the action swept them from his mind completely. “It was just a simple spell to ensure no one overheard us. Maybe one day I’ll teach it to you.” It certainly wasn’t anything that Regulus would learn from a textbook and it would definitely come in handy given that Regulus was essentially going to be living a lie from here on out. But Remus also needed complete and utter honesty from Regulus if he was going to be able to help him. He had to know everything, all the details, and so he wasn’t about to arm him with a spell that was capable of keeping him in the dark.  

With that clarified, Remus turned to Regulus’ next question. Remus struggled with his scepticism each and every day. In truth, he had to believe that people could change, he had to believe that their past didn’t define them, and most of all he had to believe that people could be saved. He hadn’t a choice in the matter. He had to believe, or he would go absolutely insane at the thought of what it meant for him otherwise. And Dumbledore had taught him better; he’d showed Remus that there was more to him than that just as there was more to everyone than what met the eye. But there was doubt. Merlin, was there doubt. Remus reminded himself that this was no different to every other minute of every day, and so he ignored that doubt, for the sake of Regulus and for the sake of himself. “Yes,” he said simply. Taking a step backwards and slipping onto the desk into a sitting position so that his shoes just skirted the floorboards. “I think it can be done. But you have to tell me everything. We can’t overlook the smallest detail.” They’ve spun a web around you, Regulus, and unless we find a hole in it somewhere, you’re fucked.

What Regulus had said about Dumbledore, however, something he’d already said once during this particular encounter, bothered Remus to no end. Dumbledore couldn’t be aware of this. He couldn’t have known or he would have done something about it like he did for Remus. Remus didn’t want to comply with Regulus demand, that he keep this between them and tell no one about what transpired during their meetings. He still wasn’t convinced that he could do more for him than their headmaster. Remus momentarily battled with his better judgement, a little voice in the back of his head urging him not to agree to that one. But Remus didn’t want to tell anyone either. There was already something secretive about being with Regulus that Remus didn’t want to admit to, nor did he want to give that up just yet. It was their secret, something which linked Remus to another human being that had nothing to do with his dependence on them, whether that be down to the full moon or because without them he’d have no one. Regulus might not be his friend, but it was strangely, shamefully refreshing having someone actually need him, Remus Lupin.

“I’m not going to tell anyone about this, especially Sirius.” Remus realised he was using that name as leverage now, as if to emphasise that he wasn’t quite at rock bottom and he did have something, at least, to his name. He had a friend, Regulus’ brother, one thing which Regulus was never getting back. It was a warning, it was power, the only ounce of power Remus felt he had sat before the boy. Regulus would survive this. Remus was certain of it now. Slytherins were survivors weren’t they? Wasn’t that why he had confessed to Remus in the first place, to survive? However, voicing Sirius’ name wasn’t for purely selfish reasons. Remus suspected this was also what Regulus wanted to hear, that he didn’t want Sirius to find out about this almost just as much as Remus didn’t. It was better for both their sakes. It was as much Remus’ weakness as it was his strength.

Remus swore under his breath once more. He might have been able to hold his tongue if he hadn’t just lost any and all composure in the corridor moments before. Regulus was seeing a side of Remus whom nobody but the Marauders had seen, and Remus felt like he was digging himself into a hole. “Alright,” he said with an air of finality about him. Pulling a chair from the nearest desk, Remus brought to the desk at which Regulus sat. Sitting opposite him so that there was no more escape, no more pause in which doubt could worm its way back into his thoughts, no words of distraction, Remus met Regulus’ icy gaze “So what do you know of the plan? We’ll work around that.” The smile Remus offered next was somewhat forced, but it was clear that Remus had resigned to the fact that there really wasn’t any turning back. It was hopeful, and more open and honest than Remus normally allowed for.  

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus let out a grateful sigh at Remus’ nod, it was a comfort to know that while Remus may not understand exactly why he was so uncomfortable about his brother that he would leave the subject alone anyway. Regulus couldn’t deny that he hadn’t been the best brother in the years before Sirius had left but neither had Sirius, he had been the one to give up first and Regulus had simply not had enough of the courage Sirius possessed to try and forge something, he wasn’t about to get rejected by his own brother so he had left it fester and get worse until it was at the point that Sirius couldn’t even look at him without his hatred showing in his eyes. It was something that pained Regulus even to this day but he returned it, he did hate his brother. He had left him, left him behind for Potter and the life that the both of them craved but only one was strong enough to try and achieve.

His jaw worked as he watched Remus’ lips twitch for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing a little, was he going to laugh at him again? Was this all going to of been some big joke, was he going to dangle the idea of freedom infront of him then jerk it away like him and his cohorts had jerked Snape into the air by his ankles not so long ago? It seemed not because Remus’ face returned to it’s determined appearance, relaxing Regulus slightly because he understood what that meant, he didn’t have to fear that. He was determined to help him or well atleast he had made out that he was, he probably had an ulterior motive but Regulus was too mentally drained to even care at this point, the world that could happen was he died or he was thrown in jail, either way those would of happened without Remus anyway.

The malice with which Remus spoke was a bit of a shock but he dare not show it, he would take whatever the Gryffindor thrown at him if it meant he would eventually gain his freedom. He was under no illusions that this would be a quick fix, chances were he would end up having to fight for one side anyway it just wouldn’t be the one he was being forced into. He didn’t care about that much, he would be doing it for himself more than anyone else and besides, he didn’t think all those Muggles deserved to die, they were irritating and causing a blight on the Wizarding World with their offspring walking in and trying to change customs that had been around for hundreds of years but death was a step too far. Muggleborns should be taught to respect the world they belonged in rather than being allowed to manipulate it to their liking or being killed for just being born into it wrong. That wasn’t to say he didn’t believe himself better than those of inferior blood because he did, he was from a long line of pureblood Witches and Wizards and while the statement wasn’t always true he was more powerful than the majority of Muggle-born’s to come into the castle, it was a shame the same couldn’t always be said for those of Pureblood, look at Crabbe and Goyle.

He shrugged his shoulders, grunting slightly and tightening his hands behind his back. “They are recruited mostly from Seventh year, I was chosen because of my family connections, intelligence and skill.” His grin was wry ass he glanced at Remus’ eyes darting around the corridor, “Atleast he has good taste.” It was his attempt at adding some kind of normality into the situation, as if that could ever be done. He didn’t want this to be full of harshly spoken words and glares, he didn’t think he could deal with having to keep himself under control and warding off hexes and glares from the one person who was going to be his salvation. If he could create some sort of civil relationship with him now then maybe this would all be a lot easier in the long run. “Would you like to take this somewhere more private?” He said with a leer, a small yet firm smirk sliding up his lips as he gestured towards one of the empty classrooms along the corridor, if they were going to have it out again – which he didn’t doubt they would – they may aswell do it somewhere where they wouldn’t get spotted by another student and reported to either Regulus’ house mates or Remus’.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Regulus was intelligent and skilled, that much Remus had gathered for himself. But there was a part of him that also suspected this was a punishment of sorts, penance for the aberration the noxious weed which they had bred in the form of Sirius Black. From what his fellow Marauder had told him, Remus gathered that his departure had left a stain on their reputation which wouldn’t be washed away with his disinheritance alone. Remus knew probably as well as Regulus that one’s reputation counted for everything, especially in light of the war that had only recently taken a new turn for the worse. But at least Regulus had enough to his name to make it through this alive should he so wish. Remus had no such luxury. Even if he made it through the war, what kind of life would he have? The wizarding world was full of contradiction and even some of the best wizards didn’t even see it. They strove for equality, to counteract the Dark Lord and his ideas on pure-blood supremacy. But when it came to werewolves, this whole idea of purity versus equality was something else altogether.

Remus’ features twitched at Regulus’ attempt at humour. They have good taste, he’d said, and Remus had to stifle the smile as if it would give away the game. It reminded him of Sirius so inextricably. Only whereas Sirius would have meant it, from Regulus it came across as more of a kind gesture. It signified a sort of resignation that they were in this together now and so they may as well attempt to be civil. However Remus didn’t want to reveal the fact that he needed this as much as Regulus did. He didn’t want to admit that the boy could bring him so much as a smile let alone a sense of redemption if he managed to help him out of the great stinking pile of shit he’d gotten himself into. He didn’t want to admit that he was angry, and that when he’d come here he was merely looking for someone to blame. Nor did he like to admit that there was something about Regulus in particular that seemed to provoke him into acting when he knew no good could come of it.

It left him feeling strangely empty, an uncomfortable knotted sensation at the pit of his stomach which he credited to unease about the entire situation. No one could find out about this. Remus wasn’t a complete and utter fool; he knew Sirius would never forgive him for sticking his nose into matters as delicate as these. Nor would he appreciate him sticking his neck on the line and Regulus’. But Sirius wasn’t here. Sirius had spent the past couple of weeks with Dorcas Meadowes, and it left Remus feeling slightly embittered. The war was slowly creeping over the wizarding world, slowly creeping over Remus.  Everything else in between felt unimportant. By contrast helping Regulus felt hugely important. But if anyone caught them at it, if anyone so much as caught a whiff of the fact that Regulus had been associating with him, they could very well do more harm than good. Besides, Remus didn’t want anyone questioning his motives either. Why would you be helping him? They’d ask, and frankly the only answers Remus had at his disposal were not the kind he wished to divulge, not even to the Marauders’.  

Regulus gestured to the door and Remus wasn’t really faced with much of an option. He was forced to nod, despite his better judgement and despite his compulsion to turn tail at the leer in Regulus’ voice and the smirk that toyed at his lips. Remus cursed under his breath, raising a hand to his brow and smoothing out the creases as he squeezed his eyes shut for just a second. There was no use hesitating. He’d already sworn to assist Regulus and possibly even save his life, which now that he thought about it struck him as just a little bit ridiculous. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?” he said, not giving Regulus even an ounce more attention than he had to or that Regulus deserved. Crossing the corridor to the door, Remus’ turned the handle and entered, and with that action he made a silent vow that he wasn’t turning back. He was in this for good now, as much so as if they’d just sworn an Unbreakable Vow and sealed it with magic.

Remus’ footsteps came to a halt in front of one of the desks, his back still to Regulus, but he didn’t turn around immediately. In fact, it was almost easier to think when he didn’t look Regulus in the eye. He could pretend this was just a game of manipulation, one which Remus was allowing himself to play. At least then, he stood a chance at winning, or gaining something out of his efforts. When he heard the door click shut behind him, Remus drew his wand from his pocket and immediately cast the Muffliato spell for extra measure. Had this not been routine between the Marauders, solely because they had spent many hours plotting pranks at various quiet locations in the castle that were never quiet enough, Remus might have thought this action somewhat drastic.

Returning his wand to his pocket, Remus finally turned on the spot and faced the other boy. As soon as he did, however, he regretted it. “Remind me why we can’t go to Dumbledore about this?” he said, his voice still somewhat strained by tension regarding the matter, but he ploughed on simply to interrupt the silence. Remus had believed for six solid years that Albus Dumbledore could solve just about anything. He’d had to, seeing as the Headmaster had only granted him every hope and chance of a normal life. That Regulus didn’t feel that he could trust the man was unsettling to say the least. 

[messrrjmoonylupin]

OOC: Sorry for my absence, guys. However the dissertation is done and I can now devote my life to roleplay (which is exactly what I'm going to do because I have nothing else to do for the time being.) But this dash is a ghost town. 

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Watching as Lupin looked away a sudden panic struck him that maybe he was going to take back his offer and that he was going to turn his back on Regulus and leave him to it. He couldn’t do that, not now he had given him something to believe in, he couldn’t just snatch that away. He felt his palms begin to sweat and he rubbed his hands against his trouser legs in a gesture that was so very unlike him that he snatched his hands away quickly, staring down at them as if they had just been burnt.  Regulus’ hands were folded tightly behind his back which had become ram rod straight, his child held high although his eyes were wary as he watched Remus’ eyes dart around the place. If he wanted to give up on Regulus already fine, he could go fuck himself. Regulus was an idiot to of expected anything different anyway, they always gave up in the end yet it had never happened quite so fast.

He was still holding himself stiffly when Remus spoke and he had to take a moment of just staring blankly ahead to realize what he’d said, he hadn’t given up. Regulus’ eyes narrowed slightly as he glared at a spot on the floor, pressing his lips together and exhaling heavily through his nose before looking back at him. His teeth were gritted, it went against everything in him to open up like this but he had already pretty much told Lupin what was going on, he may aswell have the details too. If he was going to try and help Regulus then the least he could do was try and help him out, not that he was going to become some fluffy little Hufflepuff who suddenly wanted nothing more than to plait each other’s hair and tell stories about unicorns and faeries. He swallowed shallowly before lifting his eyes to finally be locked onto Remus’. “In two weeks I am supposed to take the mark.” He said with as much forced calm into his voice as possible but even he was aware of the resentment and layer of fear that tinged his words.

He hated that he was made powerless from every angle, it was unfair and if he could he’d end Voldemort himself so that he could just have a normal life that could consist of reading, eating and grumbling about how unjust it was that he was forced to marry a woman rather than who he really wanted to marry, not that he had any idea’s on that front yet but he did know he didn’t want it to be a girl – wrong bits. While Regulus may lack a lot of control in his life there were certain aspects that he demanded it, his personal life. He had been offered both formal and informal invitations by man females of his house yet he had always politely turned them down, it was never to upset them but occasionally he would have to be harsher than he would of liked so that word would get round – he wasn’t interested. It wouldn’t do for people to start to speculate exactly why he wasn’t interested though, he wasn’t going to put up with any insufferable females in a romantic sense until he had to.

His hands tightened into fists behind his back at the mention of Sirius, “Don’t.” He snarled, his eyes sharpening into a fierce glare before he shook his head with a heavy sigh, releasing a breath and closing his eyes for a brief moment. “Sorry just – don’t. Don’t mention him. Just.. p-please don’t.” It was the first time he had ever said please to someone and actually meant it, he couldn’t stomach hearing about his brother, not now. Not when things were unstable enough, he didn’t need the added burden of having his brother plaguing his mind as he was prone to do enough of the time without Remus reinforcing it.

He was unsure of what else to say, he knew that Remus would need more than the shitty bits and pieces he had given him but he also couldn’t bare the thought of having to repeat it all, bring it back up. He ducked his head a little, his jaw tightening when he noticed his submissive movement, this was wrong. He was supposed to be proud, dominant, confident not this uncomfortable awkward dick head he had become. “I was supposed to receive the mark last year but my mother managed to convince Bella to beg for an extra year, she hasn’t left me alone since. I do not want it Lupin, I belong to no man.”

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus hadn’t even said the name. In fact, he’d made a point not to, instead referring to Sirius as his brother, but even that had seemingly had the same impact on Regulus as if he’d sunk a knife into his flesh. Remus would grant him this small mercy, never mentioning Sirius again so long as he could help it. Besides, Sirius had nothing to do with this. It had occurred to Remus that he was going behind his friend’s back, or that maybe he should have come to him about this first, but he also knew how reckless Sirius could be. And besides, Regulus was as good as lost to him now. For some reason, unbeknown to Remus, Regulus had chosen to open up to him. Admittedly he had eventually done it under a certain degree of duress but he’d done it none the less. Although Remus knew nothing of the boy other than that he had stumbled into this war and gotten well ahead of himself, he recognised that this wasn’t something he took lightly. It didn’t come easy to him, and the fact that he’d chosen Remus for a confidant demonstrated just how desperate he was.

With a quick affirming nod, Remus complied to Regulus’ demands. It wasn’t like Remus to refuse when someone had observed courtesy such as the common please, though he wouldn’t have known that Regulus had rarely used that word, especially in the company of those who were obviously his inferiors. It also came as no surprise that Regulus wouldn’t want to hear his brother’s name. Although the Blacks had a great deal of answering to do so far as Remus was concerned, he was currently too invested in Regulus’ fate to hold it against him. Any other day and he might have loathed the boy who was stood before him, but today he felt a strange sense of pity, remorse on his behalf, but still envy, always envy because it just so happened that he had a great deal more hope for Regulus than he did for himself.

Sixteen, Remus thought to himself as Regullus continued. His eyes followed Regulus’ awkward movements and his mind was reeling, the only indication of which was the fire that blazed in the amber depths of his eyes. He was sixteen years old, only that didn’t matter to Voldemort because he would have gladly accepted him into his service at the mere age of fifteen. Not even of age, and they would accept him amongst their recruits. Remus wanted to ask how it worked, how they branded you with the dark mark and just how it could kill you. He imagined cloaked figures wearing masks to hide their identities, masks of intricate silver which were embellished with a design to suit their standing in society. Was there a test? If you failed, was it the magic that killed you or the man? Then he realised he didn’t want to know.

Remus stifled a further bitter laugh as Regulus claimed he belonged to no man. It was ironic really, that the proud and haughty Blacks such as Bellatrix Lestrange whom he spoke of yet whom Remus only remembered from his earlier years at Hogwarts, and all the rest that had since graduated from the school, willingly entered the service of another. The cost was their freedom. They were mere servants. Everyone who followed Voldemort was a servant. But Remus stifled any emotion but the determination which was pressing him onwards, propelling him forward despite the consequences.

“Do they always recruit so young or were you merely handpicked?” he spat, his voice lowered for he was ever more conscious of the fact that they were speaking openly in the middle of the corridor. He’d sensed that Regulus was on the brink of paranoia and perhaps it was simply rubbing off on him. His eyes darted uneasily towards the far end of the corridor, but no one was coming. Everyone else was either in the Great Hall eating dinner or in their Common room. “It wouldn’t surprise me,” he added, honesty slipping from his lips. If it weren’t for the fact that he was a self-worshiping prick, Remus thought he might have liked Regulus. Though recent events had thrown everything he’d thought he’d known about the boy into disarray. Remus realised he’d never known Regulus, he’d never even given him a chance until now. His motives were questionable to begin with; he wanted someone to take it out on, and if he couldn’t strike him with fists he could at least knock some sense into him with words. But now he just wanted to help him, Merlin knows why.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus’ smile was grim at Remus’ words and he looked incredulously at the boy infront of him, did he honestly believe the shit he was spewing? Did he really think that Regulus could up and leave everything he had ever believed, the only things in the world he actually had because he was scared? His eyes still weren’t exactly calm but they had come to a strange sort of calm just like he had, there was nothing left to lose anymore. “Yes, I’m giving up.” He said simply, hands twitching at his sides and balling up into fists before relaxing again. He was full of some strange sort of energy, it was the kind that made a person twitchy and irritated – like his skin was trying to crawl its way off of his bones. “Yes, I have a choice. Do it and die or don’t do it and lose everything I have, my family, my name, my .. acquaintances and eventually also my life. Either way is just prolonging the inevitable.” He glanced at the floor for a brief moment, his mind seemed to be frozen and moving sluggishly which was something he was unaccustomed to and he did not appreciate at all, it was making him feel even more out of control than he already was.

He looked at him like he was an idiot with his next words, his brows shooting up and another laugh bubbling from his throat. “And if I don’t do it I have none of that, I lose it all. Don’t act as if it’s all fucking simple Lupin because it isn’t.” He spat the last sentence, his eyes dark as he surveyed Remus, trying to figure out just how he could ever think that it was that simple, that Regulus could just choose to not take the mark and that it would all be fine, “This isn’t some fucking fairytale. I’ve accepted my lot, I know I’m screwed no matter what I choose but you know what they say, better the devil you know.” His throat was drying out rapidly and his energy levels were depleting but that itchy skin just wouldn’t leave he felt as if he hands all over himself and he wanted nothing more than to shake them off, get rid of it all. The way Lupin was now looking at him made his blood boil, who was he to think he could express any sort of opinion on the path Regulus’ life had taken, it was all a bit too late wasn’t it? “Don’t think you know anything because you don’t. I’m not my brother and it would do you well to remember that. I’m not some Gryffindor, I don’t want to be brave. I want to just be left alone by everyone. And if to get my peace I have to die so fucking be it.” He finished with an exhausted tone, his shoulders sagging.

He watched as Remus backed off and Regulus slumped against the wall, absolutely exhausted and wanting nothing more than to just crawl into his bed for one last night of peaceful sleep till he was carted off to some prison or worse, he was taken straight to Voldemort. Regulus knew the man had ears everywhere and he wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew of Regulus’ doubts and he wouldn’t be surprised if he found out about this encounter soon enough even though he could see nobody around at all. He knew he should be scared but at the moment he was just so mentally tired that he couldn’t even find it in himself to be scared he had just.. given up. There was no point in pretending he had any control, he had already shown Lupin that that was all bravado and while he was berating himself for his huge mistake another part of him was thankful, it was a load off his shoulders now. Atleast now when he died someone would know that he hadn’t been a complete waste of space, there was still something in there that would have been salvageable if circumstances were different. Regulus’ head tilted to the side as he watched Remus open his mouth and then shut it, he knew that feeling. What could you say when there was no solution? What could he say to make things worse? There was very little that anybody could do to him now that would hurt him, he had probably said everything anyone could ever say to himself at least a dozen times.

The determination of Remus’ face did something ridiculous to Regulus, it made him squirm. He blinked, his lips tugging down into a small frown and his hands locking at his side. He wanted to argue, he wanted to tell Lupin that there wasn’t any other choice, it was a lose lose situation but he didn’t instead he just watched. He watched as the boy infront of him seemed to resonate a determination that Regulus envied, he wanted that, he wanted that belief and faith. He shuffled a little, his eyes flickering from Remus to the floor for a few moments before he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand across his highs. “You don’t think the old coot already knows? The mans a genius and even I’m not fool enough to pretend otherwise. I don’t see how you’re going to help me unless you go and personally take The Dark Lord out which is highly doubtful.” He crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his chin upwards – a sliver of him old self coming back. “I’ve accepted my fate Lupin, you should too.”

What Lupin expected to do was beyond him yet when he looked at him there was a small amount of hope in his eyes that he wasn’t able to cover up sufficiently, he was still a little shaken and although he knew he probably looked like an idiot staring at Lupin as if he had the answer to all of his problems he was currently trying to figure out if he actually did. Was it possible that maybe he could actually give Regulus another option? Was there a chance that maybe he didn’t have to die by either side? If he was honest with himself, if he didn’t have Voldemort hovering over him and the pressures of his family he would of chosen the side he knew that Remus would one day be fighting for, he didn’t believe half the shit he spewed and he knew that killing off the most recent generation of witches and wizards was an idiotic move that would only lead to the extinction of Wizarding Britain. He huffed, licking his lips and glancing at Remus from beneath his dark lashes, “If I were to say I might possibly want your help what would it entail?”

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus had half a mind to leave him to it. At least for the time being. Regulus had no idea what he’d just said; you should too, he’d said. But Remus had accepted his fate as much as he physically could. He was a werewolf, there was no changing that. It was in his very make up. He was infected, werewolf blood ran through his veins, and he was marked. The scars that embellished his body were a dead giveaway only no one saw that, no one but the Marauders because now that his secret was out he may as well change in front of them rather than retreating to the confines of the bathroom. It was easy to explain one scar, even two. His mother was a muggleborn, a witch but still from a muggle background. People accepted his excuse all too easily, that she wasn’t practised at healing spells so when he’d gotten a great scratch from the neighbour’s dog he’d been marked forever.

Remus had accepted his fate as far as he could. There was a reason why he was reserved, a reason why he didn’t act like James or Sirius, not only because it was uncomfortable but because he couldn’t fuck a girl just for the hell of it or even go so far as to fall in love. In muggle folklore, being a werewolf wasn’t a disease but a curse. Remus had accepted that he’d live a cursed life, but he loathed the association. He’d carry his secret to the grave if he could, but that was unlikely. That wasn’t how society worked.

Contempt flared up in Remus’ chest. He wanted to tell Regulus to get on with it then, if he didn’t want his help. That he was welcome to greet death if that was what he wanted to do, if that would finally give him the peace that he so desired. But that wasn’t peace. That was giving up. That wasn’t clever and it wasn’t brave, and whereas Regulus claimed that bravery mattered little to him, Remus couldn’t help but hope that this wasn’t true. Blurting it all out to him, that was brave. It took courage to look at yourself in the mirror and realise where you stood, especially when you were surrounding in utter shit. Remus knew this all too well because it was a virtue he lacked.

But it wasn’t this that kept Remus’ feet firm on the ground. It wasn’t Regulus’ confession that his days were numbered because in all truth that could be said for any of them. There was no chance of staying neutral in this war. You could try, but in the end of the day it would catch up with you. Some sooner than others. It was the way Regulus had looked at him, a way in which no one had ever looked at him. It was as if he believed him, or at least wanted to. Regulus wanted an escape and Remus had offered it to him. He could do little about it and Regulus knew that but in that instant Remus had unknowingly made a vow to help the boy as others had tried to help him. The war was passing. Eventually it would end and if it ended for the better than Regulus was free. All he had to do was survive.

Remus broke his gaze from Regulus’ stealing a moment to think it over. Running a hand through his hair, Remus eyes darted around their surroundings, not really looking but thinking. He didn’t even know what they were up against; he was a fool to even speak to the boy as if he did and he knew it, yet that mattered little and continued to be equally insignificant as his anger slowly subsided and reason crept back in its place. All that mattered was that he tried, because the fact of the matter was he was the first person that Regulus had confided in, as far as he knew. That was not something you turned your back on. Besides, Regulus may be in the habit of giving up but Remus most certainly was not. Giving up would be seeking out the beast who had made a beast of him and joining him in whatever treachery he endeavoured to instil in the hearts of wizardkind.  

“You can start by telling me what happens in two weeks,” he said, accepting his ignorance but his voice was stern with an edge of warning, urging Regulus not to pick up on it. “If there’s anything I’ve learnt from your brother it’s that there’s always a way out.” That much was true at least. Sirius wanted out, and so he left. He’d turned to friends. Regulus couldn’t be lacking in friends, could he? Remus could help him there, so long as he ignored the voice of warning in the back of his mind telling him to do the exact opposite. This may come at a price, but what didn’t? Regulus deserved a second chance, he deserved to be given the benefit of the doubt, and Remus wasn’t one to deny anyone of that, even Slytherins whom he’d heard nothing but bad about.

 Remus was tentative. He recognised that the battle was not won yet. Regulus was unpredictable, as unpredictable as Sirius only what Sirius had escaped Regulus had not. It struck him that Sirius might have even turned a blind eye on what was going on, preferring not to see it altogether rather than return to the family that had driven him out and left him with nothing. Remus was conflicted; he knew getting involved could stir up a whole lot of shit that maybe he was better off without. But Regulus had nothing to lose, and that was something Remus could identify with all too easily. He had everything to lose, hanging on a single tether; friends, his reputation as poor as it may be, ambition. But it could be lost so easily that he often came close to giving up just as Regulus had. He wouldn’t allow that in the boy before him, the boy full of charm, potential and haughty good looks, all of which were currently drowning in the face of whatever Regulus was being pressured to do. 

[absolutely-adoerable-blog]

Doe and Remus || Waiting

[absolutely-adoerable-blog]

Doe was pulled from her musings and the music in her head as the portrait finally swung open. She had originally intended to see that blasted arse, but Doe could feel her heart swell in relief as a different (and usually more agreeable) Marauder stepped into the corridor. Remus. Doe had barely seen him since the incident by the lake. She hadn’t seen him at all at the party, and since then she had been, not exactly avoiding him, but not really making an effort to greet him or spend time with him. She knew that James and Sirius had told him of what transpired at that stupid party in the pitch. She also knew that she had been avoiding thinking about it.

Every time Dorcas’ mind wandered to that night or her conversation with James shortly after, she felt an odd pull in her stomach. It wasn’t the nice butterflies she got when she and Sirius were together. It was an almost nauseating lurch. She was ashamed, but why? Hadn’t she always told herself that life was too short for regrets? These days, life really was short. She had just read in the paper about another muggle family being found dead in their home, the Dark Mark set above their house. It made her wonder if this was really the time to be fighting so bitterly with friends, or letting shame and regrets get in the way of furthering other friendships.

But if there was one thing about Doe, she was stubborn. Not as stubborn as some of her friends, but certainly still strong-willed. She knew that what had happened earlier that day between her and Sirius had been largely her fault. She’d been annoyed, in a bad mood, and had taken it out on him. On the other hand, she thought, as a white-hot flash of anger shot through her again, he didn’t have to yell at her the way he had. He hadn’t needed to insult her like he had. After all, she hadn’t insulted him at all! She’d just told him to stop eating off her plate. He was the one bringing up the cupboard, and insulting her, and comparing her to some cow. Asshole.

Doe got to her feet as the other Marauder addressed her, always by her full name. Always. The day that changed, she would probably have to give him a party. A “congratulations on getting that stick out of your arse” party. It was a shame that the two of them couldn’t just be friends. It was a shame that they couldn’t ever just sit and chat like she did with the rest of her mates. It was a shame that there was this odd barrier between them at all times. Doe honestly wasn’t sure why she cared so much. There were other people in the castle with whom she had a strained relationship, sure, but it never bothered her quite like it did with Remus. After all, she wasn’t particularly close with Peter and didn’t really mind. It was all rather odd.

The blonde glanced up at him, a small smile meeting his. She didn’t miss the way it didn’t extend to his eyes. It was just a friendly gesture. The way a polite person would greet someone with whom they were on amicable terms. Nothing more.

“Remus, you should know better than to bring up Quidditch around me,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag. “And actually, I’m really glad that I ran into you.”

[messrrjmoonylupin]

The emphasis on her last word did not go unnoticed by Remus. It just so happened that he knew exactly what had happened since the party, even if it hadn’t been said in words. Nothing went unnoticed when you shared a dorm with others. That much had been proved when James, Sirius and Pete had originally approached him about his secret, being a werewolf. That didn’t escape their notice despite Remus’ pained efforts. Besides, what did James and Sirius have to hide? There was no shame in them living their lives and making the most of the moment. The same could not be said for him. Remus would never have forgiven himself had he let himself be caught up in the heat of the moment. He had to be careful. He’d only hurt someone like Doe, who was fragile despite her ferocity simply because he was a werewolf and she was not.

Remus had to rein in his curiosity however. What he didn’t know was that Dorcas might not wish to see Sirius. That they weren’t on good terms was completely unknown to him. He supposed it explained Sirius’ particularly foul mood but in all honesty any number of things could have triggered that. It was hardly unusual. Remus’ eyes trailed her movements as she rose to her feet, the slight twinge of annoyance as he said her full name, although it shouldn’t have annoyed her. It was an intimacy he denied most, the only exception being the Marauders. He felt even more compelled to keep his distance in light of how frustrated the fact that she and Sirius had been together, and that she and James had kissed, had made him. He didn’t want to feel anything, let alone that.

“Really?” he asked, not entirely certain he wished to delve into this area of discussion. “I’d have assumed I’d only be a disappointment. So you weren’t waiting for a certain raven-haired Casanova?” The comparison was annoyingly accurate. Sirius had a way with girls, a way with Dorcas, that Remus would never have. He didn’t envy him; he wasn’t jealous, merely mournful. They had a chance at a life which Remus was beginning to realise that he couldn’t have.

Remus’ expression hardened slightly at the thought, but he forced another smile to his lips and this time it was more genuine. In the end of the day, as embittered as he was around the full moon, he owed his friends a hell of a lot. That included Dorcas, for simply putting up with him every time he said her full name aloud.

“What happened?” he asked, straining his voice so as to keep himself from putting it bluntly. Sirius was one of his best friends, but he could be a right arse at times and even had a habit of hurting others without even knowing it. Sirius had hurt Remus when he’d unknowingly told Severus Snape how to get to the Shrieking Shack on the night of the full moon. Remus hadn’t been able to look the Slytherin in the eye since.  

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus couldn’t even begin to keep up with everything flashing through the eyes of the boy infront of him. One moment he thought he would see a hint of pride and then the next they would be clouded with self disgust but all of it, everything that flashed through was hidden away. That was something Regulus knew himself, he had done it all his life although he couldn’t imagine why Remus would ever have to hide any part of him. He shook his head as if Regulus was supposed to understand what he had done wrong, whatever Remus thought he had done he hadn’t, he’d barely even spoke five words since last week. 

He attempted once more to shove the boy from him, his eyes darkening. He hated feeling out of control and that was exactly what Lupid had done to him, twice now.  He dropped his arms back to his side uselessly, his teeth gritting almost painfully together and his eyes flickering away from Lupin’s face. He couldn’t handle this, couldn’t deal with how very vulnerable this boys presence made him feel. This was not supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to have doubts and even if he did they were supposed to be shoved away, ignored - just like he had been doing for the last few years. He was not supposed to feel helpless in the face of anyone let alone a Gryffindor who had never ever shown himself to be anything more than a follower before.

Why people couldn’t just leave him the fuck alone he had no idea. He swallowed forcefully, not allowing himself to imagine to actually beg for Lupin to go which he had been about to do. He refused to lower himself to the point of begging, he was unsure of why he hadn’t gone for his wand yet, it was easily accessible on his hip and he knew he probably should be grabbing it but he wasn’t. Instead he jerked against the boys arm as hard as possible, hissing when he just ended up slamming back against the wall. “Get the fuck off me Lupin.” He snarled angrily, tearing his eyes back away from him, they didn’t seem to be following his orders though. 

He froze when Remus said the next couple of words, his limbs turning rigid and his eyes widening slightly. He could feel his breathing rate elevate and he started at Remus straight on and he noticed something in his eyes, something that was just begging him to confess if not for himself than for Remus. Regulus had never done anything for anyone else before, he had never had the need. He swallowed again and blinked trying his very best to ignore the flood of problems and images that flooded his head now that he had reminded Regulus of the real problems. He’d had a brief moment of pretending this was just any other teenage encounter, maybe he had pissed off Remus’ friends but no, of course it wasn’t. Nothing was ever normal for him was it? 

His lips curled up into a dark smile and he let out a bark of incredulous laughter, his hand grabbing itself a fistful of Remus’ robes and he pulled him closer. He felt something inside him snap, completely and utterly just wither away and die and his eyes reflected that, suddenly they were alive. Burning with something sinister and unstable, not against Remus though, it was all directed at himself. What was the point of pretending? He was going to die anyway, he may aswell give someone else something before he went and if Lupin wanted Regulus to admit it, fine, he would. “You want to know do you Lupin?” He asked with another laugh, his eyes flickering in every direction. “I’m going to die.” He said simply, his eyes going wide and his face spreading into a huge grin. “I’ll be dead soon, two weeks. Two weeks and I’ll be dead and guess what? I can’t wait. I can’t wait for all of this to be over. I’m so tired. So very tired.” 

He sagged backwards against the wall, his hand still gripping Remus’ robes but in a looser grip by this point. He tilted his head to the side, his lips curling upwards again at the edges in some sick attempt at a smile. “Funny isn’t it? Never even got to reach 17. Never even got my first kiss. I have a lot of regrets, that’s bad isn’t it? You aren’t meant to have regrets when you die. I do. I wish I had gone with Sirius. I wish I had been given the chance to go with him.” He rambled on his eyes looking at Remus but he wasn’t really seeing him, he wasn’t really fixed on reality anymore. He had done the one thing he never should of, he spilled the truth. There was no point in pretending he was stable anymore, no point in pretending he wasn’t about to shatter apart every time someone looked at him.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

A laugh escaped Remus’ lips, but it was almost hollow, bitterness taking the place of mirth. There was nothing funny about this situation, nothing funny about what Regulus had said, but Remus was utterly stunned that Voldemort had sought for supporters in the school. Regulus had said it himself; he had never even reached seventeen. He was a boy, not yet a full grown wizard and yet he was good enough to join his ranks, good enough to fight his war and certainly good enough to die in it. It made sense. Catch them while they’re young, stupid and reckless; angry enough or too easily influenced so that they’d join your cause in a heartbeat. Dumbledore did the same, or so Remus had heard. It was just a rumour, but Remus hoped it was true because if the headmaster really had formed a secret group of resistance against Voldemort than Remus may just stand a chance once he stepped out of the gates and off the soil of Hogwarts’ grounds.  He’d sign up without even a second’s thought. He owed Dumbledore that much after everything he’d given him, and Dumbledore was probably the only wizard alive who would have allowed a werewolf in his ranks.

Remus had gotten what he’d came for, a confession, and yet that wasn’t all he’d come here for. He hadn’t known it consciously, but he couldn’t walk away after retrieving this piece of information, at least not without setting it straight first. Perhaps it was guilt, because Sirius had shown him every kindness, offered him every chance of redemption and in the meantime Regulus had experienced none of it. Remus had tried to tell himself that the boy was to blame, but he could read between the lines. Brotherhood was unbreakable. Regulus was never to blame. James would never betray Sirius, just as Sirius would never betray James, and Remus presumed the same could be said for Peter. Only the same could not be said for him. Nothing was permanent, nothing was lasting, because someday they’d realise that he was a werewolf, they’d realise what that actually meant, and they’d decide they were better off without him. It was merely inevitable, and yet it was fucking terrifying, but not half as terrifying as the thought of the boy before him, fragile and brittle yet clearly capable of withstanding far more than he ever should be capable of, branded with something as terrible as the Dark Mark.

Remus’ grip on his robes softened, but still he refused to release him. Regulus’ resistance had shattered before him, he had nothing to lose, and frankly Remus was worried about him. He was more worried about him than he should have been and anger dissolved into something infinitely more tender and yet Remus wouldn’t let that show. It would be like admitting weakness, admitting that he was wrong in the face of someone who couldn’t care less. What was the use in caring when he believed he had an expiration date and that it was fast approaching? But with one glance at the sneer that played at Regulus’ lips and the flicker of sheer madness in the depths of his eyes, anger returned all too easily.

“You’re giving up,” Remus snapped, cutting Regulus off before he could add further regret to the list, each true and yet each acting like poison to the ear. “You have a choice. Everyone has a choice. Whatever you’ve chosen, y-you can undo it.” Remus forced the words from his lips. Though Regulus hadn’t provided the details, Remus could hazard a guess at what he was referring to. Two weeks and then there was no turning back? Remus didn’t believe it. Remus wouldn’t believe it. It sickened him to his very core and he wanted nothing more to wretch as if to cleanse himself of it because he knew that it was true. He knew that Regulus would be expected to enter into his service just as every eligible wizard was, and he knew that the opportunity for him to make this same choice may just present itself before the war was through. Voldemort was recruiting magical creatures of all kinds; werewolves, vampires, even giants, the papers said. It was a fucking choice. “You’ve got everything, every fucking thing you could possibly need to stand a chance and you blow it on..” Remus couldn’t say it. The name was practically taboo and yet they’d been encouraged to counteract that by saying it, but now that the time had come and Remus had one of Voldemort’s many victims in his grip, he couldn’t say it.

Remus eyes rested on the boy and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. It wasn’t the kind that brought him any relief, not even a shred of it, nor did it leave him deflated. Remus had never felt so pathetic, and with a further stab of self-loathing he realised he must look it too. There was no resolve in his eyes when they met those of the other boy, instead they were ablaze with everything that had been resurfaced by Regulus alone, who he was and what a mistake he was making and yet there was a hint of understanding. Remus’ life had never been his own. It was as if it belonged to someone else, as if he were a mere slave, to the moon, to the very werewolf who had bitten him all those years ago. He denied it every day, every single day and he wanted to hear it from Regulus’ lips. That life could change. That one’s fate was not sealed by what happened to them. But Regulus didn’t and he loathed him for it.

You’re acting like the monster you are, Remus reminded himself and instinctively put more space between himself and Regulus before releasing him from his grip altogether. It wasn’t something he did willingly. In that single moment, Remus had exacted a sliver of revenge, disarming the one he held responsible and extracting some of their power and strength for himself. But it pained him to see Regulus like this, on the brink of shattering. Not that he was responsible, for it wasn’t him who was leading the boy to his death. Remus wanted to say something, and so he opened his mouth, but the words escaped him. I’m going to die. What could Remus possible say to that? Don’t be so fucking stupid? Regulus wished he could be given the chance to go with Sirius that night when his brother had left Grimmauld Place for good. Maybe Remus could give him that chance, not that Regulus would ever let him. Remus eyes fell shut for the briefest of moments, as he fought to temporarily suppress every selfish need and desire. Regulus needed help. He knew it, Remus knew it. And their time was running out.

“You’re not going to die,” Remus said at length, his brow still knitted together, and his expression unyielding. This was not a matter of debate, Regulus wasn’t so much as going to question it because Remus had the advantage. Knowledge was power; it was a common phrase that Remus had always been particularly drawn to because knowledge seemed to be his only source of power. Now more than ever it was wholly relevant. “I’m going to help you and you’re going to let me, or Merlin so help me I’m going to Dumbledore about this.” He might just do it anyway. If there was anyone who could help Regulus it was Dumbledore, however Remus suspected that was the last thing Regulus wanted. He deserved that at least. 

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

A week, a whole fucking week Regulus had been walking around the school with shame pooled in his stomach and neck cramp from jerking his head so fast when he thought he had caught sight of Lupin. The older boy wasn’t as hard to dodge as he could have been, they didn’t share classes nor did they tend to hang around the same places apart from the library which Regulus had avoided all week despite the fact it was only place he could relax. He couldn’t bear to see the mocking or worse the pity on the boy’s face nor could he risk himself allowing that circumstance to happen again, he doubted that he would be able to stop himself from spilling his guts if he did. To say that Regulus was tense would be an understatement, even his house mates had noted his built up stress and had kept away from him, putting it down to the fact he was to be marked in two weeks more than anything for those that knew and others simply shrugged it off, his moods had always been volatile.

He was so sick of the sight of his dormitory. He didn’t care to hang around in the common room more than he had to. Slytherin house was run on politics and he had been in no mood to take part in any of them this week, silencing anyone who had approached him with a single look or just sneering and walking away claiming he had “business” to attend to. By business he meant he was going to go sit behind the curtains of his bed and stare down at his hands for hours on end or try and read even with the words merging together to the point that Regulus had even given up on that. He was currently sat on his bed, book in hands and his teeth gritted together as he glared down at the page as if it was to blame for all of the issues he had going on.

He was ashamed of himself if he was honest, he allowed himself to almost break apart. Not only that but it had been in front of somebody else, someone who could exploit it. He pressed his lips together and slammed his book shut, throwing it across the room until it hit the wall and the pages flew from the spine, floating lazily to the floor as if Regulus wasn’t currently trying to burn them with just his eyes. He needed air, he needed to get some space or he thought he might crack, he had almost considered just allowing himself to confess everything to Lupin and get thrown into some low security juvenile prison unit, he hadn’t done enough wrong to go to Azkaban but he imagined they wouldn’t want someone who was basically a Death Eater walking the corridors anymore. It would simplify everything, make things so much easier than they were now but he would also be giving up the very little freedom he had and he wasn’t quite sure he would last very long if he did that. He imagined he would last three weeks before it got too much and he was smashing himself in the head with a rock.

Pushing those thoughts away he stood up, smoothing down his white shirt and making sure it was tucked into his pants, even when going for a casual stroll his appearance just had to be perfect. He tugged on his sweater vest, fiddling with the bottom for a brief moment before pushing his feet into his expensive faux-dragon hide leather shoes; he had always found the idea of wearing a corpse repulsive. Once he was sure he looked presentable he pulled on his robes and made his way out of his dorm, face blank and hands folded behind his back. He nodded in greeting to those worse acknowledging as he passed but kept his lips shut, untrusting of himself not to just spew what he was really thinking out loud at the disgusting monsters of his house. He took a deep breath once he exited the door, once again sneering at the walls he was surrounded by, he hated the dungeons. The air was stale and it always felt damp, he would of preferred to of had a common room somewhere else like a tower, yet another reason to hate Gryffindor’s he supposed.

He darted along the corridors he knew like the back of his hand, many an hour had been spent learning the castle and the fastest ways around so that he would never have to run into anybody he did not wish to. It was also something that would take up his time, he may have been respected mildly because of his name but he had very few friends, he wasn’t exactly approachable not that he had ever intended to be any different. He didn’t need people sticking their wands into his life when he couldn’t even control it himself. He was making his way towards The Great Hall, maybe he would actually eat there today rather than grabbing his food and leaving to eat in an alcove overlooking the lake on the third floor instead.  

He heard footsteps approaching and before he could even turn his head somebody had him gripped by his robes and against the castle wall, Regulus’ eyes went wide as he stared at the boy infront of him. He had never been in quite so close contact and even when he knew that he shouldn’t think it he couldn’t help but notice the heat that radiated off the boy, the way Regulus could count the faint freckles that dusted his nose. He cleared his throat, eyes quickly removing themselves from the hand that was gripping his robes, he was not noticing how slim his fingers were nor was he noticing the small ink marks that seemed to be ingrained on the boys fingers like they were a part of him. He looked at Remus, actually really looked at him and noted something odd in his eyes, as if Regulus had done something wrong and.. there even looked to be a little bit of hurt in there, for what Regulus had no idea.

“Look, whatever you think I did – I didn’t.” He said with a sneer, trying to cover up the panic that was flaring to life in his chest now that he realized just exactly what was happening. He attempted to shove the boy off him but he had a surprising strength, he must have been hiding it beneath those too large robes. He narrowed his eyes, pressing his lips together and holding his eyes for as long as possible until he had had to look away, even just being in Remus’ presence had brought up a longing to spill everything and he had no idea why, he didn’t even like the boy. Well, that wasn’t actually true. He merely didn’t know him nor was he particularly interested in getting to know him, he may have been acceptable to sit in silence with and read but he was still a Gryffindor and still his exiled brothers Bestfriend, clearly an unacceptable choice for a confidant. 

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Regulus was seemingly helpless against Remus so long as physical strength was his only means of keeping him there. Remus doubted whether he could keep it up once wands were involved; he was a top student but he didn’t have it in him to hex his fellow students, not even Regulus, for it was something that was far more sinister in nature to this. Remus didn’t release him, not yet, instead keeping him pinned against the wall with his fist still clutching the front of his robes and the pressure of his forearm against his chest. On one hand it felt good, because he was strong and he was using his strength for something other than transformations and mere survival so that he could live to see morning light and breathe morning air. But this was unsettling. Remus had lost it, whatever it might be. Control? Remus had always been lacking in control, and yet his every action was all part of some farce so that even his fellow Marauders believed the very opposite. He put on a good show, but now that was nigh on impossible all because of the boy before him.  

Remus’ breathing was heavy in his chest, the heat rising in the back of his neck, his teeth clenched tightly and he didn’t release Regulus from his gaze, not even when the boy had attempted to escape it. He showed no signs of loosening his grip, and his free hand was formed in a fist though Remus never would have hit him, not when he was so unprovoked and when he knew perfectly well that this only had so much to do with him. Regulus was little more than a trigger. His denial was meaningless, futile, because it wasn’t what he’d done but what he was still doing that had brought Remus here, what had caused him to seek him out and corner him when Regulus was clearly trying to avoid him. Remus realised in an instant that this is what he was, who he was. The calm facade? It had been slowly threatening to unravel and then in one instant, one single moment in which Regulus had very nearly unravelled in front of him, that facade had merely dissolved. The strength he employed in order to keep Regulus from freeing himself of his grip wasn’t his own, not by any means. He wouldn’t be half this strong if he didn’t have lycanthropy running through his veins. This was one of many moments in which Remus was reminded that he wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t even human. At least, not completely.  

Remus’ features contorted as the thought struck him, a feeling of guilt slowly creeping over him until he was forced to drop his gaze. Remus had formed an image of Regulus in his mind. A boy, proud to be sorted into Slytherin, eager to join You Know Who when the time came, because what little he knew of Regulus, what little he heard from Sirius, was that he would do anything to please their parents and blood supremacy was everything to them. There may have been a time when that didn’t force you to choose sides, but that time was over. A war had been slowly taking hold of the wizarding world and now it had seeped between the cracks in the castle walls. Whether complying with his parents’ wishes, or merely acting on his own beliefs, it mattered little. Regulus had made his choice; this became apparent the moment he’d looked at Remus with that same scorn that he reserved for only those he deemed the lowest of the low. But it wasn’t even that that brought Remus here. It was that he had almost admitted it. He’d almost admitted it before fleeing from the library altogether. He knew what was good for him and yet he did nothing regardless.    

It wasn’t fair. Remus knew that and Regulus must have known it too otherwise they wouldn’t even be in this compromising position. Remus would be lying if he said he’d never been within such proximity to another as this. The full moon had seen to that. Remus woke in a condition that was worse for wear, to put it lightly. Broken, he was well accustomed to closeness, hands on his skin so as to make the necessary repairs, but it was painful, humiliating and utterly beyond his control. There was nothing intimate about it. Nothing as raw and unguarded as Remus was now. Though with some luck Regulus wouldn’t know what was Remus’ normal conduct of behaviour and he’d take this for little more than a Gryffindor looking for a fight, someone more like James or Sirius than the bitter, twisted werewolf that he was. Remus was close enough that he could feel Regulus’ breath against his lips as he professed his innocence, he could sense the panic that had overcome him after he’d said those words, and he could count the imperfections on his complexion, of which there were few, a fact which only caused another stab of resentment in Remus’ chest.

Whatever Remus wanted to say or do, he held it back, forcing himself to look at the boy, shaking his head as if to signify that his answer wasn’t good enough. He knew what he wanted to say, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put it into words. It was what Regulus couldn’t bring himself to say either, only Remus didn’t know that last part, not for certain. He’d only made a guess at it. Regulus wanted out, he needed out, he needed Sirius or simply someone in whom to confide. For all he knew, Regulus had already been branded with the Dark Mark. Only that didn’t mean his fate was sealed. It couldn’t, because if it did than what did that mean for Remus? Regulus may not think much of him but he was as good a confidant as any.

“In the library,” Remus began, a painful hint of appeal in the depths of his amber orbs that Remus couldn’t temper even if he’d known it was there. “Whatever you were going to say, say it.” It was an order. His inability to string long sentences together had little to do with the fact that he was entirely wrong to approach Regulus like this. He was merely straining back a world of resentment towards the boy, prejudice one might call it, prejudice which he had learnt first-hand. He felt the cold sting of desperation, willing the boy to confide in him as if that would give him worth, as if the fact that he felt he could confide in him would somehow confirm that Remus had accomplished something and that his condition counted for nothing. This wasn’t the reality but Remus wanted it to be. More than anything he wanted it to be. He wanted to matter. Just as Lily mattered to James, or James mattered to Sirius, or maybe he merely sensed the gaping hole that Sirius had left in his brother's life and wanted to fill it.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Marlene & Remus || Catching up

[runwolfwarrior]

Marlene felt as though she had gone back to her normal self after the events of the party. She had spent some amount of time being somewhat depressed about what had transpired, and then another time period being edgy, though she was a bit of a rough-and-tumble-Scottish girl to begin with, so the edgyness wasn’t nearly as easy for those around her to pick up on as the sadness. Eventually she mellowed back to her old self, mocking Sirius Black and James Potter because it was what she did, and not because she bared any sort of resentment towards either of them. The only thing that continued to pain the young girl’s existence was the thought of her family in the order. Though her brother, Zeke, the one closest to her in age, and her fellow Ravenclaw, sent her owls every few days to show her that the five of them were still alive. It was a relief, but it did not make the young girl feel any better about not being able to join them in the fight against the Dark Lord. A few more months, she reminded herself, a few more months.

Marlene tried to distract herself from that concern by focusing on everything else imaginable. First her school work, which she was about a week ahead of schedule, because of all the work she was putting into it, in an attempt to take her mind off the war. Maybe that was why she clung so hard to her anger at Sirius, considering he did something she knew he was going to do, and it was honestly not a big surprise. It was something for her to be angry about, and mull over that wasn’t this. Now Marlene was setting her sights on other things to focus on, potions, charms, recipes, ect. Now, Marlene was a Ravenclaw, and as such she was very bright. Remus’ disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Scottish girl, and neither had the nicknames the four boys addressed each other as. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs…and Wormtail, yes, Wormtail. Moony. The Moon. Was he greatly interested in Astronomy? It was possible but it seemed too simple, when the four of them always seemed like they were harboring some deep secret. Moony. The moon. The moon was close to being full when she stopped seeing Remus.

It was strange how hearing the voice of Remus caused Marlene to stop thinking about Remus all together, or at least on the mystery that was Remus Lupin. She couldn’t hide her smile as she twirled on her heels to face him. It was nice to see someone who actually seemed to enjoy her company, so far as to jog to catch up to her. “Remus.” She said with a small bob of her head and another smile. “That was the plan, unless you have a better one.” She explained, in a similar hopeful, excited tone.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus had always gotten along well with Marlene. He supposed it was due to the fact that she was a Ravenclaw, thus she understood what it was to actually want to study. Remus was probably the most studious boy in his dorm, and although it wasn't all he was it was certainly one of many things that set him apart. If he was quite honest with himself, Remus had always wondered why he'd been placed in Gryffindor in the first place. Although there was something to be said for it, for it was most certainly the most desirable house of the lot, he'd always hoped to be sorted into Ravenclaw. That was achievable, at least. Hufflepuff wouldn't have been too bad either, he supposed, for he liked to think he was a hard worker. But it was books and cleverness that came naturally to Remus, much more naturally to him than courage. But he supposed courage only had so much to do with it. Chivalry, camaraderie; that was something Remus knew a great deal about. 

Stepping into a walk beside her, Remus clutched a couple books in his hands which he'd scooped up on his way out of the dorm more as an afterthought than anything else. Spending his evenings in the library didn't always have to do with how much work he currently had to complete, and more to do with his fellow Marauders. If James was carrying out duties for Head Boy or Sirius was off with Dorcas or whoever he was currently setting his sights on, Remus preferred the quiet of the library to the forced quiet of Peter. But at Marlene's words, it struck him that the library probably did nothing to stave off the very thoughts he was trying to avoid. "A better plan," he began thoughtfully. If Marlene had been Sirius, Remus or James, he probably would have ended up atop the Astronomy Tower or by the lake despite  the fact that they could barely see their own feet now that the moon was waning. "Better than sitting amidst a pile of stuffy old books? Marlene, tell me you're not tiring of the library," he continued with a half-hearted laugh. Actually, sitting amidst a pile of dusty books was quite an appealing image for Remus. It was one of the few things he could get carried away with. But the same could not be said for everyone. 

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus felt his breath clog his throat as their eyes locked and he saw the dawning comprehension in Remus’ eyes, he had seen something Regulus had definitely not wanted him to see. His fingers tightened around his book and he quickly blanked his face but not before yet another flicker of fear danced across it, this time due more to the fact that Remus had seen through him than because of the thoughts plaguing his head. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he was not supposed to lose his grip like that. He didn’t even allow himself to do it that often in private, he told himself it was because it wasn’t supposed to be an act - that it was supposed to be genuine - but it wasn’t. It was because if he did let everything down all at once he expected he would drown in it. 

He would drown in the expectations of everyone around him, the uncertainty that was his future and the fact that it was likely in 3 weeks he would be dead. Not everybody survived getting the mark, that much he knew, they said it was the least faithful that never made it and Regulus knew for a fact he wasn’t 100% faithful. He doubted he would even be doing it if he had had any other option, if he wasn’t stuck between a rock and a hard place. He watched as Lupin opened his mouth as if to speak and then looked away and before Regulus realized what he was doing his own mouth was opening too, “I can’t do it, I -” He choked and he stood up with a jerk, snatching his bag from the floor and swinging it over his shoulder. He stuffed his book into his pocket and he ran away, ran into the stacks and out of the library as fast as his legs could carry him.

He knew he was a coward, had long since accepted the fact and yet he had never felt as quite as cowardly as he did now. Nor as utterly idiotic. Half of him was screaming and begging, begging him to go back and confess it all, beg for him and just speak until his lips bled and his stomach stopped churning constantly and the headaches went away. The other half was screaming for a totally different reason, he had just nearly spewed everything out on Remus bloody Lupin, his brother’s best friend and notorious prankster, even if he wasn’t on quite the same level as the other lads. That simply was not acceptable, infact it likely wouldn’t of mattered whoever it was - actions like that were not okay. 

He headed straight for the 7th floor, face cold and rigid and his his nails digging into the palms of his hands hard enough to draw blood. He stormed into the astronomy tower, locking the door behind him and marching up the stairs without even blinking, throwing his things on the floor and gasping for breath as he hit the barrier. The metal stung the tiny wounds on his hands but he didn’t care, he was focused on getting his breathing back in control and stopping his head from feeling as if it had just been used a bludger for a Slytherin vs Gryffindor game. His head was always so full of questions, what if’s, why not’s, how come’s and he knew he shouldn’t, knew it was unsafe to think like that but his head didn’t seem to realize that and as he sank down to the floor, head resting on the lower bar of the barrier and his knees pressed against the cold and hard stones of the castle floor he felt his chest contract and a single dry sob escape his throat.

He hastily closed his eyes and focused with all his might on getting his control back, this wasn’t right and he would now allow it to happen. He controlled his emotions, they did not control him. He repeated it over and over again for what felt like hours, his eyes aching from behind closed so tightly and his jaw hurting from being locked as viciously as it was. He had nearly ruined everything, he had nearly destroyed everything. He might hate what his life was but it was all he had, he had nothing else. He didn’t have friends like Sirius had had when he ran away, he didn’t have other family that would support him, he had nothing and even when all you have is shit you want it, because its yours and Regulus would protect what he had with his life if he had to. 

He slowly opened his eyes and his knees gave out from beneath him, his legs laying flat out infront of him in the end and his hands resting against his knee’s. He was numb now, simply staring at the view from the tower and wondering what it felt like to fly. Of course he could fly with a broom and while it was a type of freedom he supposed, he wanted to know what it would be like to fly like a bird, or to simply fall. His eyes flickered to the floor briefly and he wondered if he could stop himself from the hitting the floor with a well timed arresto momentum. It was a stupid thought because he would never throw himself off, if he was even going to off himself it would tidier, he refused to make a mess.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus hadn’t seen head or tail of Regulus since they had stumbled into each other’s company in the library. Normally, this wouldn’t strike him as odd. Normally there was no reason that he might have seen the Slytherin. After all, they weren’t in the same year, they didn’t share classes, they didn’t even eat at the same table but on opposite sides of the Great Hall yet even then Remus hadn’t caught sight of the Slytherin. Remus had considered seeking him out, devising some means in which he could give him detention just so that he could talk to the boy. It would have been easy. The honour of being prefect had not been revoked when James was made Head Boy; he still had all the privileges that allowed him to land Regulus an afternoon in detention which could very well mean a good hour or so in a quiet classroom that allowed him the opportunity to spill whatever was weighing on his mind. But Remus wasn’t in the habit of abusing his power. Not once in the past was he tempted to tarnish his reputation as a prefect; Regulus sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to change that.

There was also the fact that Remus couldn’t fathom what it was about Regulus that compelled him to actually make the effort. He didn’t deserve it. At least that’s what Remus told himself. He was a Black, and he wasn’t Sirius, not even in the slightest. If he knew what Remus was, he’d be disgusted, and that was putting it lightly. It was people like Regulus who had landed him here in the first place. It was kind wizards like Albus Dumbledore who had allowed him a place at the school, but it was the Blacks, the Malfoys, privileged families who cared about the purity of one’s blood more than the qualities that actually made them who they were, strength of will, skill or how they treated their inferiors, that had held him back all these years. It was wizards like Regulus who instilled a sense of fear that wouldn’t have been there otherwise; fear that friendship wasn’t lasting, that he could lose it within an instant, that he was dangerous, a monster, and that one day his friends may just piece this bit of information together.

It occurred to Remus that he was merely looking for someone to blame. That he needed someone to take it out on, whatever it was. Over ten years of anger and frustration and a burning loathing in the pit of his stomach were gradually brewing until they had finally come to consume him. What was the trigger? Remus didn’t know exactly. Perhaps there were many forces at work. It was his final year at Hogwarts which meant he was fucking terrified. He hadn’t a clue what lay ahead. But not only that, jealousy seared his veins, jealousy which were directed at the very friends he couldn’t lose because he depended on them. He couldn’t turn to them anymore, or at least not about this. They didn’t get it. After six and a bit years, they still didn’t get it and they never would because for some reason they still looked at him as if he was nothing more than their friend. But he was so much more; he was a werewolf, for Merlin’s sake.

Remus had no one to talk to about it, no means of dispelling the fury that was building up within him. And so it grew. It occurred to him that Regulus had revealed more of himself in that one instant in the library than Remus had ever seen, and that maybe he trusted him because of it. It became apparent in that single instant alone that Regulus also knew what it was to have something destroy you from within, something that you had to tell someone about and yet you couldn’t. It was madness that Remus understood this, for in truth it was little more than guesswork, but he did. Regulus had stormed from the library leaving no trace of himself behind but a screaming silence and a cold sense of regret that washed over Remus as the boy’s words eventually set in. He couldn’t, he’d said. Couldn’t what? He was about to confess something, something that had been tearing him apart, only he’d cut himself short. Remus’ shoulders had squared and his grasp on his quill tightened until he was certain it would snap, and one week later he was filled with a seething anger because Regulus did have a choice. Regulus had every weapon at his disposal, wealth, charm, blood status, his only weakness being that he had everything to lose. Regulus was a coward, and Remus had half a mind to knock some sense in him because it was the only fucking thing he could do.  

Remus was in the library once more, seated at a table in one of his usual haunts, one of the far corners where few chose to sit because it was just a little bit darker and dustier, the only benefit being that it was peaceful by comparison. Fellow students were few, and Madam Pince kept to the clusters of students rather than the individual. And bitter thoughts of his condition, recently surfaced and only made worse by the fact that the full moon was approaching, festered on his mind. Only this time Remus hadn’t sought comfort from a book. It wasn’t a book which lay open on the table before him, but a map. The Marauders Map, they had named it. Remus had helped construct the object thus he cursed himself under his breath for never thinking to fix some kind of detector spell on the object which would have made this a hell of a lot easier. Remus’ elbows rested on the table, fingertips massaging his temples as he strained his eyes for the name, a single name which had somehow averted his attention for the past week.

Then he caught it, hazel orbs latching onto it as if fearful that it would escape him if he so much as looked away. Regulus Black. Two footsteps had just emerged from the Slytherin common room and appeared to be moving towards the Great Hall and so Remus quickly scrambled up his items and rose to his feet, caring little for the fact that his grip on the map was sure to crumple it, a fact which he’d regret when he eventually noticed. The library wasn’t far from Regulus’ path, but with every turn Remus made, so did Regulus. He was beginning to suspect the boy knew the castle almost as well as he and his fellow Marauders, a fact which annoyed him immensely, but eventually the distance between himself and Regulus came to a close. Having no further need of the map, Remus stuffed it in his pocket before seizing hold of the front of Regulus’ robes instead and slamming him against the cold stone of the wall behind him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Remus said gruffly. His eyes darted down the corridor to assure it was as empty as it had appeared on the map, not that the map ever lied. His grip unyielding, Remus turned his gaze back to Regulus. There was a hurt in the depths of his orbs that was probably too telling, but despite all his efforts Remus had always lacked the control that he fought to retain. His expression was accusatory as if Regulus should have known exactly what his offence was, his brow furrowed in a deep frown and his cheeks lightly rouged only making the scar more apparent. But for once Remus wasn’t thinking about his actions, he didn’t want to think about his actions, he just wanted to take it out on something or someone who made a show of have everything and yet took it for granted.  

[messrrjmoonylupin]

I don't know if you guys celebrate it but I hope you'll be munching lots of chocolate anyway ;)

P.S. If you ever wish to plot on Skype simply add me. My username is Elva_moo (I hate that username, it's old, ugh). I'm there alot, and if I'm studying I probably welcome the distraction. 

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus felt some of the tension in his shoulders melt and his face fell slack which was the closest thing people got to smiles from him. He didn’t smile, he never had the inclination and it made his face feel and look awkward, he hadn’t been built to smile he had been built to sneer or looked bored. He could hear a layer of understanding in Lupin’s words, some sign that he understood what Regulus wanted to protect and that he wasn’t going to be the one to damage it. It was.. pleasant he realized, being able to sit in silence and not feel uncomfortable, which was odd. He had expected that even after he had come to the conclusion he wanted Remus to stay that it would be awkward and it wasn’t, the sound of turning pages and a quiet murmur from the otherside of the library simply soothing.

He occasionally looked at the boy opposite him, his lips quirking at the edges for some odd reason at the sight of his frame folded into the chair, his posture looked uncomfortable to Regulus but it obviously wasn’t bothering him at all. It had always surprised him that someone like Remus who was as reserved as himself could get on so well with his brother and his other boisterous friends but social relationships worked in odd ways, Regulus knew that and guessed there must be something that endeared his bludger headed brother to Remus. There were very few people Regulus actually liked, Emma Vanity and Severus Snape being the only two that were not actually family. He had always got on with Severus because like him, the boy preferred his own company to that of those around him but he also knew the importance of making sure you had the correct group, in a house like theirs it was dangerous and unwise to be too much of a loner. 

He briefly licked his thumb and rubbed it against his forefinger and turned the page, it wasn’t a habit he was particularly fond of because he knew it was unhygienic but it was something he did never the less. He ran his tongue across his lips as he focused on the words infront of him, finding himself having to suppress a few snorts at the ludicrous actions of the man in the story. While clearly smart the man made some rather moronic decisions that cost him months in his research and his eventual discovery of the herb to cure conjunctivitis. 

He would of loved to of been able to have a choice in what he did for his future but he didn’t. Even if The Dark Lord hadn’t been in impending threat above his head he would of been stuck working at the Ministry, making his name known and keeping up with the politics around him. In his ideal world he would be allowed to get a job working in a potions research department, he had always had a particular fondness for the subject and there were so many avenues still to explore using it that Regulus felt he could of actually done the world some good and enjoyed himself at the same time. Didn’t matter anyway, he would most probably be dead in a few years and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was at the hands of people who were supposed to be on “his” side.

His shoulders hunched again, his eyes closing for a brief moment. Even during his most relaxed moments he couldn’t stop the coil of fear that clenched his stomach whenever he thought about his future and what was to come. He doubted he would ever be able to fully ignore and push those feelings away and they were only bound to double as the time got closer and the war became something he was actively part of rather than something he was watching from the side lines. He opened his eyes and squared his jaw, he would not be weak. Especially not while someone could see him, he had to remain strong and proud and try his best to get through the shit storm that was to come because if Regulus had one trait that could of got him into Slytherin it was self preservation, he wasn’t ready to die yet. He flickered his eyes over the top of his book to see if the boy had caught his brief moment of weakness, his nerves on edge at the comment he was still doubtful wouldn’t be issued.

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Remus struggled to keep to his word. He usually didn’t have much difficulty distracting himself with the printed word, able to lose himself in whatever he was reading within an instant so long as Severus didn’t happen to cross their path in which case a rigid sense of guilt took hold of him, eyes glued to the book but alert to his surroundings and utterly torn as to what part he could take in it, for never would his fellow Marauders pass up an opportunity once it presented itself to them. The only other circumstance in which Remus’ attention might wander is when the full moon was approaching. But the full moon was almost always approaching, for as soon as it passed it was only a mere few weeks until it returned. For now that Remus was in his final year, days seemed to slip from one into the next all too quickly.

Yet this was something else entirely. Remus had read the same paragraph in his book twice now, and each time the words failed to leave an impression in his mind. It wasn’t the moon, or whatever else that might have been weighing on his mind. It wasn’t because his surroundings weren’t ideal for this kind of activity, for they were, surprisingly so. If Remus were to come to this particular corner with the other Marauders by his side, it wouldn’t have been quite so quiet and still as this. Whatever tension one might expect from having a Gryffindor and a Slytherin seated at the same table, and not just any Gryffindor and Slytherin but two who had reason to question and even despise the other, simply wasn’t there.

Remus’ gaze lifted of its own accord, his amber orbs resting on the figure on the other side of the table, and he found himself instantly struck with curiosity about what he might be reading, what provoked such a reaction from him. It was utterly ridiculous that something as simple as a book and the fact that Regulus was clearly absorbed in the words could have impressed Remus. Perhaps he saw something of himself in Regulus, but that was hard to believe. At first glance alone it was evident that they were worlds apart. Regulus had the haughty good looks that the Blacks were renowned for, not as obviously handsome as Sirius, instead subtly so, almost more dangerous and unpredictable but that might have had something to do with the fact that Remus simply didn’t know him.

By contrast, Remus’ appearance was almost haggard. Regulus had already pointed out that he had little to his name; frankly, his condition had been a burden on his entire family, costing his father any kind of work that might have increased their means; his mother too. There was something awkward about the way he held himself. Remus wasn’t comfortable in his own skin. How could he be when it was hardly his own? He didn’t control it, nor did he control the lycanthropy which coursed through his veins, kicking into effect when the moon shone full in the night’s sky. There was a single scar that hindered his complexion, dashed across one cheek, only just visible in the correct light. Remus loathed it, just as he loathed every scar that embellished his flesh, but he was grateful that this was the only scar visible to his fellow students. Now that he was in his seventh year, questions had ceased. No one required an answer, for Remus was a permanent fixture at the school; everyone knew him thus he couldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

But when his gaze was met with Regulus’, Remus realised with a sharp stab in his chest that his interest had little to do with the book the boy clasped in his hands. There was something else going on behind the calm veneer, a facade that was slipping with each passing moment, and it was startling to say the least. Remus felt as if he was witnessing something that was more personal than Regulus or himself were truly prepared for in that instant. The boy had a secret; that much Remus knew because Remus also bore a secret, one which sometimes had him tearing him apart from within as if the wolf had been released from its cage prematurely. But never once did he let that secret slip from his lips because never once did he want anyone to find out about it.

Had Remus allowed himself to consider his actions for even a second, something which he was accustomed to yet which he was ever more difficult to maintain in light of everything that currently plagued the wizarding world, he would have simply returned to his book and pretended to be ignorant to the flicker of fear that he saw in the other boy. But as it was, he dropped his gaze to the quill he still clutched in one hand, his mouth opening slightly as if wishing to speak before the words failed him. But it was a gesture. Remus couldn’t say anything, for frankly it was none of his business. And Regulus would no doubt remind him of that as soon as the words had left his lips. But if he was perceptive enough he might just recognise this for what it was. There was a hint of submission in Remus’ otherwise pained expression; Remus was more than capable of keeping a secret. 

[regulus-arcturus]

Regulus & Remus || The Library.

[regulus-arcturus]

Why did the boy continue to mock him? Was he really that much of a joke? His eyes darkened once more and his lip curled up into his patented sneer, “I didn’t realize I was so amusing Lupin, I had assumed your taste in humour was limited to ridiculous and immature pranks and the victimization of those your friends dislike.” While Regulus may be an asshole to most people around him it wasn’t until they gave him cause or he felt he had to prove himself, he would much rather say nothing at all and ignore them.  There were only so many times one could sneer and cast the same old insults around before they got tiring and redundant. He didn’t even know if he fully believed the shit he sprouted these days either, it was difficult to remain true to what you have been told to believe when you have students around you proving your beliefs wrong daily. Lily Evans; Muggle-born, Gryffindor and Head Girl she was everything she wasn’t meant to be. She was smart, he had read some of her assignments before when he had found them lying on a desk in his Charms classroom and he had actually enjoyed the way she had theorized on the variations of mobility charms and their influences on the objects around them. She was also beautiful and although Regulus may not be attracted to women it didn’t mean he couldn’t identify a beautiful girl and she was. She was also gifted not only in the theory of magic but the practical side of it, he had seen her use a variety of different spells on James Potter over the years and for that reason alone he had grown a smidgen of respect for the Redheaded Muggleborn.

They were things she wasn’t supposed to be though, she was supposed to be slow and hideous and a blight on the school, not someone who gave everything they had to their studies and was a shining beacon and idle for many of the students not in Slytherin. He pushed those thoughts away, it wasn’t safe for him to allow his mind to think like that, he just had to remind himself one simple thing, 3 weeks. 3 weeks until it no longer mattered if he had doubts or not because it would be too late, he would have been marked and enslaved to a man who would only bring more harm than good to the world Regulus wanted to protect. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that Voldemort would just as quick recruit Muggleborns if he believed that would gain him power faster but he opted for Purebloods because the strife was already there, they were already losing the customs they had been raised with and the lives they were so accustomed to were being changed. The world itself was changing around them and they were not willing to change with it. That’s not to say Regulus approved of the change, he merely didn’t care. He would simply of preferred to of been from one of the less known Pureblood families where he wouldn’t have to choose and could remain happily neutral, ignorant to everything going on around him but he didn’t have that option and to dream of another possibility was both pointless and slightly painful.

He realized that other than the fact the boy continued to laugh at him his presence didn’t distinctly bother him, infact if he was quite honest it wasn’t that bad. He knew enough about Lupin to know he was like Regulus, a scholar. He wouldn’t be like the others from his house who would occasionally piss him off by giving their unwanted company in his library. Lupin would sit and read or work and would not need help with how a certain wand movement went or how a word was spelt, he wasn’t a Neanderthal and Regulus thought that if circumstances had been different, if Regulus had been from that neutral Pureblood family that him and Remus could have been friends. He slowly lifted his eyes from where they had been following the movements of his fingers and he was suddenly struck by the feeling of guilt for how he had spoken to Lupin but he wouldn’t apologize, that would be ridiculous and out of character. He was unsure why he felt sorry for the boy, perhaps it was because he hadn’t reacted as he had expected or maybe it was simply because he considered him a kindred spirit but either way he knew that he would try his best to limit his scathing remarks. If Lupin was willing to be civil well it was only right that a Black could too, after all it wasn’t as though Lupin was a Muggleborn, his family was merely on the unfortunate end of Ministry politics, something many good witches and wizards lost themselves and their stance to. Nobody could pass comment if they did happen to come upon them and they were both sat working in silence, it would just look like two people who both wanted to work had decided to ignore each other and get on with it, it was for the best.

With that decision made he locked eyes on Lupin and watched as he spoke, noting the slight frustration in his voice that just screamed all he wanted was peace, something Regulus himself could understand. He decided to ignore the fact his stomach had squirmed with failure when Lupin had said he wanted to leave, after just deciding that was the opposite of what he wanted he couldn’t allow it to happen now, he was a Black, they always got what they wanted. “Forget it Lupin, just don’t touch my stuff got it?” He snapped back although it was lacking the typical malice, it was merely for show. He sat back in his chair and folded his leg across his knee, his foot bouncing up and down without his consent. He lay his book across his lap, his fingers rubbing the parchment as his eyes flittered from word to word, drinking in the brief peace that the story of an old wizard from Russia and how he discovered a herm to counter act the effects of a conjunctivitis curse could bring. 

[messrrjmoonylupin]

Once more, Regulus seemed to measure him against the standards of his friends, and whereas it was almost flattering given how much Remus had come to owe them over the years, this was one area in which he was nothing like them. He didn’t make a habit of victimising others, for the reality of it was just too close for comfort. Remus was a monster. That much he knew perfectly well without having to prove it each and every time he ran into someone he didn’t care for. There was no one the Marauders made a victim of more than Severus Snape. Their treatment of him was legendary, thus it must have been common knowledge to Regulus Black, but it wasn’t unprovoked. Remus wasn’t one to make snap judgements about others, the only exception being the boy who was sat before him now. He preferred to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. After all, he knew all too well that appearances could be deceiving. But Severus Snape had earned his ill opinion of him. Not only was he the sole students outside the Marauders that knew what he was thus rendering Remus vulnerable in the face of him, but if rumour was true he’d even gone so far as to call Lily Evans a mudblood. He’d betrayed his friend. That was the most loathsome of qualities in Remus’ opinion.

And yet as much as he despised him, Remus never once approved of the way Sirius or James picked on Severus over their past few years at Hogwarts. Although never uttering a word or raising a wand against him, Remus never did anything about it either, thus he was equally guilty. Remus wasn’t proud of it, but his sheer desire, no, his sheer need to be accepted and liked had won out. Remus felt a stab of shame at Regulus’ accusation as he realised that he’d never seen Regulus treating someone unfairly without cause, at least not as much as the rest of his house. But that quickly transformed into pity as he in turn recognised that this wouldn’t always be the case. If what he’d heard was true, and Regulus really was aspiring to join the so called Dark Lord, than the ‘victimization of those your friends disliked’ would be an everyday occurrence for him. And it wouldn’t just be name calling and Levicorpus either, but a fate far more sinister and permanent.

Only there was a chance Remus was merely jumping to conclusions. Perhaps the war wasn’t quite as severe as the papers made out, and the most noble wizarding families such as the Blacks wouldn’t have to choose sides. Yet Remus knew this wasn’t true. After all, Sirius had chosen his. It was only natural that Regulus be forced with the same. And it saddened him to no end that the boy opposite him, the boy who clearly wanted nothing more than to read his books and experience a glimmer of peace, would have either one cruel fate or another forced upon him. There was a softer edge to Regulus’ next words, only just detectable behind the apparent scorn. Remus didn’t look up from the page of his book, but he wasn’t reading either. Although a smile didn’t quite make it to his lips, there was a new warmth in the depths of his hazel eyes that hadn’t been there before, as if Regulus had inextricably relieved him of at least a fraction of the frustration he had entered the library with. If the boy had wanted him gone, he would have made that happen. Thus his presence couldn’t have been all that unwelcome. There was something comforting in the fact that Regulus, as noble, proud, pure and privileged as he was, faced an injustice equal to his own, if not more destructive. Of course this was utterly selfish of Remus to even think it, spiteful even, but it was his one defence against someone like Regulus.

 “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured him, enforcing in words that whatever peace and solace Regulus found in the place, Remus wouldn’t be the one to disturb it. And with that, he attempted to direct his entire attention elsewhere, setting his eyes on the text of his book which he slid a little closer across the smooth surface of the table towards his chest. When Remus read, he had a habit of closing in on himself, his posture almost awkward in comparison to that of the youngest Black brother but that probably had a great deal to do with his frame, a frame which contorted to breaking point upon each full moon for that matter.