Chapter Text
Slowly, my senses returned. My head pounded as if it might split open at any moment. A deep, dull ache throbbed behind my eyes, and for a few seconds, everything around me was an indistinct blur. But something felt off. Normally, when I woke up after a full moon, the others were here. Someone was always here.
But this time, I was alone.
A creeping unease settled in my stomach as I forced my eyes open. I wasn’t imagining things—I really was alone in the shack. My breath came a little quicker. What had happened?
Bracing myself, I ran a careful hand over my body, checking for any serious injuries. My ribs were sore, my muscles stiff from the transformation, my hip hurt as always, but aside from a broken arm and a few superficial scratches—injuries I could heal easily—I had come out relatively unscathed. That was something, at least.
With some effort, I pulled on my jumper and trousers. Every movement sent jolts of pain through my limbs, but I was used to it by now. Gritting my teeth, I pushed the pain aside and left the shack, dragging myself toward the Gryffindor Tower. My only thought was finding the others—James, Sirius, Peter. Someone had to be there.
But when I finally reached our dormitory, only Peter was inside.
He flinched when he saw me, his expression immediately guarded. His small, nervous hands twisted in his lap, and he avoided my gaze. My stomach clenched. Why was he acting like this?
“Hey! Why did you guys leave? And where are the others?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
Peter swallowed hard. “Moony… I—I’m sorry we couldn’t stay. Padfoot… he…”
My blood ran cold. Fuck.
Had I hurt him? Had I—had I turned him?
“What happened? Is Sirius injured?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Peter shook his head quickly. “No! He’s not injured!” He hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words. I sat down heavily on my bed, reaching for the chocolate on my nightstand. Snapping off a piece, I let it melt on my tongue, grounding myself.
Peter’s fingers twitched. “No one was hurt,” he said, though his voice wavered. “But… they’re in Dumbledore’s office. They should be back any minute now.”
My stomach twisted. “What happened? I don’t remember anything.”
Peter’s mouth opened, then shut again. He looked anywhere but at me. “I… I think Padfoot should explain. I don’t know the whole story.” He let out a weak chuckle. “You know, as a rat, you can’t see much when you’re in high grass.”
Before I could press him further, footsteps echoed up the staircase. The door swung open, and James and Sirius entered.
James looked exhausted, his jaw tight, his shoulders heavy with something close to disappointment. Sirius’ face, however, was unreadable. He had that mask on—the one he always wore when he came back from his family. Cold, expressionless.
Something was very, very wrong.
I stood and crossed the room in a few slow steps, my body still aching from the transformation. “Love,” I said softly, settling beside Sirius on his bed. I reached out, resting a hand on his upper arm. “What’s wrong?”
No response.
“Sirius?”
Still nothing. My chest tightened. I turned to James, hoping for an answer.
“One of Padfoot’s pranks went a bit too far,” James said grimly.
I glanced between them. Sirius’ expression didn’t shift. James, however, was clearly uneasy.
Sirius scoffed. “Oh, come on! Snivellus deserves nothing else! You didn’t have to step in!”
James’ hands clenched at his sides. “You nearly got him killed.”
Sirius shrugged. “And? Not like anyone would miss him.”
James shook his head, his disappointment deepening. My stomach churned.
“And what do you think would have happened to Remus? The ministry wouldn’t have let him get away unpunished” James said, his voice laced with anger.
Sirius opened his mouth, but I cut in. “What are you talking about, Prongs?”
James exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding something back. “He told Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow. Snape was trying to get through tonight, but I forced him back out of the tunnel before he could reach you.” James turned to me, his voice urgent. “I swear, Remus, I didn’t know anything about it beforehand.”
I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs.
Sirius did what?
Slowly, I turned to him. He looked back at me, his face still carefully blank, like none of this mattered. Then, he shrugged. “He would’ve deserved it.”
Rage surged through me, burning hot and uncontrollable.
“What?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “You wanted to use me as a weapon to get rid of your rival? I could have killed him! I could have turned him! No one deserves that!”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “It was just Snape.”
As if that made it better. As if that excused anything.
Something inside me snapped. Before I could stop myself, my palm cracked against his cheek.
Silence.
A red mark bloomed on his pale skin. He blinked, more in surprise than pain.
“It was a human,” I hissed, my voice shaking. “And so am I! I am not some monster for you to use against your enemies!”
Sirius got to his feet, his smaller frame only reaching my chest. He looked up at me, eyes flashing. “Oh, come on, don’t make a drama out of this! Nothing even happened! James stepped in, everyone’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
Not a big deal.
I had heard those words before.
Every time I caught Sirius cheating, every time he lied to me, every time he brushed off my anger—It’s not a big deal, Moony.
But this time, it was the last straw.
Sirius reached out, placing a hand on my chest, trying to soothe me like he always did. I shoved him back. He stumbled, landing hard on his bed.
“You’re no different from them,” I spat.
He froze. We both knew who I meant. His family. The people he hated more than anything.
“Moony, I—” he started.
“Don’t you dare call me that ever again.”
I turned and stormed out of the dormitory, ignoring the way my hip protested with every step. James called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
Somehow, I ended up in an unused classroom on the fifth floor. The door slammed shut behind me, and I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. My hands trembled as I ran them through my hair. The tears came running down my face.
How could he?
Why the hell did he do that?
*—*—*
I must have fallen asleep because the next time I woke up, the moon cast its pale light through the window on the opposite side of the room. The shadows stretched long and eerie across the floor, their slow movement the only sign of passing time. I should go back to the dorm before I get caught. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not when Sirius was still out there. The thought of facing him made my stomach churn.
Before I could decide what to do, footsteps echoed through the corridor, growing louder with each measured step. My pulse quickened. Then, the door creaked open.
Fuck.
A silhouette stood in the doorway, framed against the dim glow of torchlight from the hall. The sharp, aristocratic lines of the figure were unmistakable—no one but a Black carried themselves with such rigid elegance. My fingers curled into fists as anger flared up again, hot and consuming. But then I noticed it.
The hair was cropped shorter than I remembered. The robes were pristine, the fabric heavy and expensive, a clear mark of pureblood status. And just like that, I knew. This wasn’t Sirius.
"Lupin," Regulus scoffed, his voice carrying that familiar mix of disdain and detached curiosity. "What are you doing here? It’s past curfew."
I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?"
He lifted his chin slightly, scrutinizing me like one would an insect under glass. "I’m a prefect," he said, the words clipped and precise.
"So am I."
For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze flickered over my face, taking in every detail. Then, with a quiet certainty, he spoke.
"You’ve been crying."
I tensed but didn’t deny it. Instead, I rolled my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. What was the point? He had already seen through me.
Regulus hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. With a murmured incantation, he cast a privacy ward. The room felt smaller, suddenly wrapped in silence.
"Sirius?" he asked, his tone unreadable. He pulled a fine, silken handkerchief from his pocket and extended it toward me. Embroidered in silver thread were the initials R. A. B.
I stared at it, startled by the unexpected gesture. A Black, a Slytherin—this Black—offering me kindness? It didn’t make sense. My hesitation must have been obvious because he raised an eyebrow as if daring me to reject it.
Reluctantly, I took the handkerchief and dabbed at my face, wiping away the last traces of weakness.
"Did he lay hands on you?" Regulus asked, his voice even but edged with something unreadable.
"No."
"He cheated?"
I frowned. "Why do you care?"
He shrugged, the motion effortless. "Answer my question, and maybe I’ll answer yours."
I exhaled sharply, my grip tightening around the handkerchief. "He did," I admitted. "But not this time."
Regulus watched me closely, waiting. His patience was unnerving—calm, controlled, nothing like Sirius’ reckless energy. It made it harder to ignore him.
I swallowed. "He wanted to use me," I admitted, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "And he broke my trust."
Regulus didn’t react immediately. No sharp intake of breath, no flicker of surprise. He just nodded, like he had expected as much. "Typical," he muttered.
I frowned. "You don’t seem shocked."
He scoffed. "I know my brother." His eyes darkened. "And I know how he treats things he gets bored of."
A silence stretched between us. For the first time, I looked at him properly—not just as Sirius’ younger brother, not just as another Black, but as someone who understood.
Then, he tilted his head, a calculating look crossing his face. "You want revenge?"
I hesitated. "I don’t know."
"Liar," he said simply. A smirk played at his lips. "You want him to feel what you’re feeling right now. And I think I can help with that."
I narrowed my eyes. "How?"
Regulus leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "We fake it. You and me."
I blinked. "Fake what?"
"A relationship," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Make it believable. Make him watch. What do you think how he will feel when you ran to his brother?”
I let out a breath, considering. It was petty, it was reckless—and it was exactly what Sirius deserved.
"You’re serious?"
“No, I’m Regulus.” His smirk widened. “But I do mean it.”
I should have said no. But instead, I found myself nodding. "Fine."
Regulus straightened. "Then let’s start now."
Before I could question him, he turned on his heel and gestured for me to follow. "Come on, Lupin. You’re not sleeping in this dusty old classroom."
"Where are we going?"
"To the Slytherin dorms," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "You’re my boyfriend now, aren’t you? I won’t have you spending the night in some forgotten corner of the castle."
I stared at him. "You think they’ll just let me in?"
Regulus rolled his eyes. "You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare question it."
Something about the certainty in his voice made me believe him. So, against all better judgment, I followed him into the dark.
*—*—*
A few Slytherins cast me wary, even disgusted glances, but as soon as they noticed Regulus beside me, they swiftly averted their eyes and minded their own business. It was clear that his presence carried weight here. Without a word, the youngest Black led me through the dimly lit corridors to the dormitory. The air smelled faintly of old parchment, polished wood, and something darker, almost metallic—perhaps lingering from decades of whispered secrets and hidden grudges.
The room itself was modest in size, dominated by three four-poster beds draped in deep green and silver hangings. Heavy curtains hung by the window, dulling the moonlight that tried to seep in. Regulus strode inside with the quiet confidence of someone who knew his place at the top of an unspoken hierarchy.
“Barty, clean your bed up. You’re sharing with Evan for a while. We have a visitor,” he instructed, his voice carrying an edge of authority as he settled on the bed furthest from the door.
A second later, a door to my left creaked open—the bathroom, most likely. Steam drifted into the room as Barty Crouch Jr. stepped out, a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his damp blond hair onto the cold stone floor. The faint sound of running water suggested the shower hadn’t been turned off yet, a careless luxury only someone completely at ease in their space would indulge in.
Barty’s sharp gaze landed on me, his brows raising in obvious disdain before he scoffed, “I thought you had better taste, Reg.”
Regulus didn’t even look up. “Says the one dating Evan,” he retorted smoothly. Then, as if dismissing the matter altogether, he added, “He’s only here to get revenge on Sirius. Now, clean up so our guest can get some rest.”
Barty rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Muttering something under his breath, he grabbed a few scattered belongings from his bed—a tangle of robes, a book with frayed edges, a few crumpled pieces of parchment—before casting a quick cleaning charm. With an exaggerated sigh, he tossed his things onto the third bed and disappeared back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
Regulus gestured towards the now-vacant bed. “All yours.”
“I… I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” I murmured, hesitating at the edge of the mattress, still feeling like an intruder in enemy territory.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut it. The two of them sleep together anyway.” His tone was flat, almost bored, as if he couldn’t be bothered to entertain my guilt. Then, more practically, “Do you need any of your things?”
I hesitated before nodding. “I… yeah. A change of school robes and some pyjamas. I guess I’ll just sneak up and—”
Regulus cut me off before I could finish.
“Kreacher,” he called.
With a sharp crack, a wizened, hunched house-elf appeared before him. Its large, bloodshot eyes gleamed with something between reverence and malice as it bowed low, knobby fingers twitching at its sides.
“Go to the Gryffindor dormitory,” Regulus commanded, his voice slow and deliberate. “Gather all of Remus Lupin’s belongings and bring them here.” Then, with a smirk curling at the corners of his lips, he added, “Make sure Sirius sees you. If he asks what you’re doing, tell him it was my order. And if he tries to stop you… ignore him.”
The elf’s thin mouth stretched into something resembling a grimace of satisfaction. It gave another deep bow.
“Of course, Master Regulus.”
And with another sharp crack, Kreacher vanished.