Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

THERE’s a strict set of rules to keep in mind when traversing the Forbidden Forest. 

     1) Respect the nature around you. 

     2) Don’t speak your name, lest someone or something hear you. 

     3) Never walk the forest after dusk.   

A violation of any one of the rules could put your life at risk. Make you an enemy to the children of the forest.   

Orion Black has disregarded the rules time and time again. After all, his vocation is creating rules, not following them. 

It’s a frigid autumn evening when the king of Slytherin absconds the palace into the woodland south of his kingdom. Like his subjects, he’s privy to the whispers about the Fae inhabiting covert regions of thicket secluded from human eyes and influence. Where the dryads, anthousai, and alseids nurture the spirit of the forest in peace. Where pixies and gnomes wander freely through the foliage and earth. 

The Fair Folk have lived within the forest since long before the original four kingdoms were established. Though the mystical creatures of the forest technically coexist with humans, interaction between the two have been few and far between in recent years. The kingdom passed several decrees to ensure the eradication of the Fae beyond the Forbidden Forest and even a handful of laws promoting the hunting of Fair Folk within the woods. They are bringers of disease and famine. Pesky beings, plaguing the prosperity of Slytherin and spreading misfortune to its people. 

Like his predecessors, the king is well aware of the dangers of the Fae. 

But Orion is also just a man. 

And the Fae are as alluring and beautiful as they are dangerous. 

“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” a chilling whisper carries in the breeze causing a stutter in his step. While lost in thought he’s made his way to a small clearing. Pale wildflowers and tall grass encompass the area, creating a mix of baby blue, ivory and deep green to outline a small reservoir of crystal clear water. “After all, I distinctly recall you saying you wouldn’t make this ‘mistake’ again,” the voice continues. The water ripples to his left, and he turns to face the familiar presence. 

She’s wading in waist-high water, strands of ebony hair reaching the surface and pooling around her delicate frame like spilled ink. Her clouded, green, eyes surrounded by long lashes lack pupils, giving her stare an element of eeriness. 

Hauntingly beautiful. 

Wynnorific. 

“But we both knew it was a lie. Didn’t we, Star?”, she glides closer, reaching a pearlescent hand for Orion’s face. “It's endearing that you continue trying to convince yourself otherwise though.” She grins, revealing small sharp teeth. 

She’s right, of course. But there’s a compulsion he’s powerless to, that lures him to the forest time and time again. 

As if he’s spellbound. 

“It was not by my own will that l've returned. You’ve done something to me, haven’t you?” he seethes. The smile remains on her face, seemingly unbothered by the accusation. 

“What are you insinuating Star”, she hums. 

The flippancy of her tone tips him over the edge . Or maybe his anger stems from his inability to refuse her.  

“You bewitched me.”

“I’m flattered,” she drawls.   

“You’re just a wench performing devil’s magic to—”. She digs sharp nails into his jaw where she still has a firm hold of his face. Her smile shifts from chilling to cruel. 

“Devil’s magic? Is that what you humans call it? Whenever the consequences of your own actions rears its ugly head you blame the devil and play victim”. After voicing as much her grip on his face softens, trailing the nail of her pointer finger along his jaw and cheekbone. “You’re here due to your own weaknesses, Star”. 

“This will be the last time.” 

Alara shakes her head and steps back, unnerving grin and withering stare still in place while extending a delicate hand. 

There’s blood on her fingertips. 

“It won’t.” 

Chapter Text

THE day his baby brother arrived at Grimmauld Palace was the happiest day of Sirius’ life. 

It was another dreary evening with Sirius occupying himself with his wooden toy knights on the floor, being sure to remain silent and out of  mother’s line of sight as she sat on the chaise by the window gazing outside. He doesn't want to upset her. 

The large wooden doors banged open as father rushed into the great chamber sopping wet from the storm, boots stomping against the marble floor leaving a trail of muddy prints in his wake. It was the most disheveled Sirius had ever seen father. His bloodshot eyes and hair —soaked, windswept, and plastered to his forehead— made him look more like the undignified men in Knockturn Alley rather than their Sovereign. 

But most interesting was the silk bundle cradled in his arms.

Mother seemed disgusted by Father’s entrance and only grew more upset as she noticed the swaddled child. Father explained that she was to embrace the infant as her own. “A necessary Spare to the Slytherin throne," he had called it. Mother swiftly retired to her room without so much as another glance in their direction, leaving behind Sirius who was curious about the newest royal.

Father kneeled down to show him the sleeping baby’s face, revealing a sweet button nose and pouty lips that wrapped around a honeysuckle blossom like a makeshift pacifier. Flecks of the flower’s golden pollen dusted over delicate cheekbones and long dark lashes that matched the loose ebony curls framing his face. Sirius reached a hand out allowing the baby to loosely wrap his dimpled hand around one of his fingers. 

“Sirius, meet your younger brother, Regulus.” He muttered. 

“Regs?” Sirius exclaimed with a grin lighting up his face. The prince still said his ‘R’s as ‘W’s, but no four-year-old spoke like a scholar. Nevertheless, his father scowled at the poor pronunciation. Sirius was too distracted by his brother waking up to notice the disapproving glance. 

Big round eyes the color of thyme stared up into storm gray for the first time and Sirius was positively ecstatic. 

“-ello Regs!” Sirius cooed. Regulus was waving his fists around —along with Sirius’ finger still held tightly in his grasp— while babbling back. Sirius couldn’t understand the baby but he could tell the younger was just as excited. He wasn’t quite sure where Regulus came from but he assumed he was just as lonely as Sirius. Grimmauld Palace was huge, and despite that, the halls remained quite empty. The guards only spoke to father, the maids and staff were always too busy to play, and he knew better than to speak to mother. 

But now Sirius finally had someone else. 

A brother. 

A friend. 

He’d never had either of those before but he was happy Regs would be his first. 

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A little over six years later, Sirius can still say with confidence that his little brother is his favorite person.

Not that the company he keeps at breakfast makes for much competition. 

The four royals sit at a dark mahogany table, their silence accompanied by the occasional clink of fine china. Rays of golden sunlight bask the dining hall in a peaceful glow creating a scene which juxtaposes the tense atmosphere suffocating the table’s occupants. 

Regulus sits to his right, swinging his feet in the too large wooden chair and giving the blackberries on his plate his undivided attention. Sirius is just about to share the remaining berries on his own plate when father’s voice cuts across the silence. 

“I believe there is no confusion amongst you three about what the expectations are for this evening.” He pointedly glances at each of them before settling on the youngest. “You will be attending tonight as well Regulus.” 

Mother continues with her breakfast, expression blank with no hint of having registered father’s statement. 

Reg stops his swinging and looks up at father with furrowed brows and a tilt to his head. It’s not often that Regulus is allowed to be in the presence of anyone aside from their immediate family. Father always insists it’s because he was too young but they all  know it's that he’s a little too different. 

As far as looks go, Regulus can easily pass as a legitimate spare. The shade of his green eyes are close enough to grey and he has the signature pale skin and black hair. The fact that he’s a little small for his age could be overlooked and the slight point to his ears is easily covered by his hair. 

No, it’s the small quirks Reggie possesses that keeps him illusive to outsiders. 

The odd way he talks to work his words around a lie. 

His caution of cutlery and metals just in case it’s made of iron. 

Most notably, are the little bursts of ‘magic’. 

That had started subconsciously for the most part. He’d manipulate and control the water in his baths, summon torrential downpours with a tantrum, and cause the faucets in the kitchen to burst when he was upset. The list goes on and on and it seems Regulus isn’t quite sure what the extent of his powers are let alone how to control them. 

Needless to say, a royal child who can unintentionally control the elements depending on his mood is an inconvenience at social events. Especially when said powers are linked to his fey heritage that Orion is set on keeping a secret.  

If father wants Regulus to attend a ball with that many people, it must be important. 

Appearances and all that. 

“Yes, father.” Sirius affirms for both of them. Reggie is still silent, but bobs his head up and down, agreeing with his brother’s words. 

Father nods once and tells them they’re dismissed.

Sirius spares a brief thought to the fact that neither of them had been anywhere close to finishing the food on their plates. 

The brothers leave the room silently, tendrils of tension from breakfast trailing after them until they reach the younger’s bedroom. Once the door clicks shut it’s as if their bodies have been reanimated by children once again. 

Regulus turns to him, jumping into his arms and hanging off his shoulders as he tilts his head back with a toothy grin that slightly scrunches his nose. “Let’s play knights, Siri!”

For the first time in the day, Sirius has a smile on his face. 

Lately Sirius has been obsessed with reading the tales of King Arthur.

 The stories are full of thrilling adventures, chivalry, and camaraderie. 

Sirius will wield a wooden, toy, sword, pretending it’s Excalibur and he’s the brave King of Camelot. Reggie, on the other hand, theatrically waves his arms around beside him while making sound effects pretending to cast magical spells as Merlin.  

Together, the two of them venture around the castle with the imaginary Knights of the Round Table at their sides whilst looking for the Holy Grail. 

It’s exhilarating to pretend they’re outside the dreary stone walls of the castle. To imagine what it’s like to travel somewhere different each day while meeting new friends and foes with each adventure. 

Sirius can’t help but hope for a future where he can take his brother and leave Grimuald Palace for real.

"Siri! Siri! Duck!" Stubby legs carry Regulus forward as he barrels into Sirius, knocking them both to the ground. The fresh scent of rosemary from Regulus' hair oil floods his senses. His brother peers up at him from his spot atop Sirius' chest, wide eyes giving a cats blink. "I saved us from the witch's evil spell." He whispers.  

Sirius isn't sure when a witch was added into their pretend battle but his baby brother's determination and commitment elicits a loud bark of laughter from him. "Yes you did. Good work, Reggie." He presses a kiss to his bother's temple for a job well done. 

He supposes playing pretend is enough for now

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As expected, the ball is dull. 

Nobles are milling about, overjoyed to be pertinent enough to make the guest list. Each of them attempts conversation hoping flattery will ensure his favor. The evening is filled with nothing but empty smiles, fake pleasantries, and meaningless well wishes. 

Sirius is already dreading having to do it all again next time. 

This afternoon mostly consisted of maids fretting over his dress robes while father lectured him on the importance of upholding family traditions. All the smothering means he hasn’t seen Reggie since this morning which is absolutely unacceptable and should be remedied as soon as possible. 

By a stroke of luck he manages to find Regulus amongst the sea of nobles. The eight year old has his back to the wall and from this distance Sirius can already tell the boy is uncomfortable by the way he twiddles with the hem of his tunic and hunches his shoulders up. Sirius’ gaze turns to the surrounding figures and he immediately picks up his pace 

He reaches his brother's side and Regulus promptly tucks himself under Sirius’ arm. 

“Sirius,” Antonin Dolohov drawls, “we were just reacquainting ourselves with little Regulus here. It’s unfortunate  that he’s rarely present for these events”. 

“How old is the little prince now? Surely we’ll be seeing more of his face in the future?” Rudolphus chimes in. Of course Rabastan stands, leering beside him. 

“It’s quite odd that we never see him,” Lucius drawls, “it’s almost as if the royal family has a reason to hide the boy…” 

There are some truly terrible people in the upper echelons of society who managed to get close to the crown and this lot is amongst the worst in Sirius’ opinion. The youngest addition to father’s inner circle and advising council. The few times they’ve crossed paths, they’ve been nothing but cruel to him. On top of that, their odd fascination with Reggie has Sirius’ stomach lurching and twisting to gnaw at his insides as if instinctively warning him of danger. The unsettled feeling compels him to hide Reggie away. Keep him safe from their gaze.

Dolohov leans in closer to the Lestranges, muttering something to them that the brothers can’t hear. The group starts snickering amongst themselves, and Sirius takes advantage of their shift in focus. 

Reggie is still tense beside him and the best way Sirius can think of to help is to tactically retreat. He pulls Regulus along towards the exit without a word and heads towards the servant entrance to the kitchens. 

Reggie has always favored the kitchens to the rest of the castle so it should cheer him right up. Besides, any opportunity where he can sneak them a little extra food should always be taken advantage of with how little they're fed in the first place.  

His brother tugs on his sleeve as he trails behind him, “won’t we get in trouble for leaving the ball early, Siri?” 

We will. Sirius is pretty confident he can get Reggie out of the punishment for it though. 

Sirius ruffles his brother’s loose curls before slinging an arm around his shoulder, “-course not. Don’t stress too much Reg.” 

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It isn’t until they’ve sat at a small table in the corner of the kitchen surrounded by fresh pastries provided by the kitchen staff that Regulus finally relaxes in his seat. Sirius had asked Reg what the men had been talking to him about earlier but his brother shook his head, dismissing the conversation. He may not want to discuss it now, but Sirius made a mental note to check in later. 

Regulus holds a blackberry tart with both hands, nibbling on the flakey pastry while kicking his feet. Sirius finds the scene heartwarming and laughs to himself. His baby brother looks like a grumpy chipmunk, scrunching his nose like that and chewing with such a serious look on his face. Reg doesn’t fool around when it comes to blackberries. 

After three tarts, Regulus notices that Sirius hasn’t touched the plate of baked goods at all and proceeds to grab a strawberry macaron (Sirius’ favorite) to hold up to his face, waiting for Sirius to accept the treat. 

And so they sit amidst the chaos of the kitchens, feasting on sweets and all too happy to miss the ongoing ball in the north wing of the castle. 

While these little stolen moments with his brother are favored memories for Sirius, he’s also aware that they’re always short lived. So he’s not surprised when one of the main servants appears in the kitchen and summons them to the throne room. 

His lack of surprise never negates the hurt in his chest as he watches the sadness cross over Reggie’s face though.  

He grabs hold of his brother’s hand and squeezes it tight before pulling him along. 

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From the moment they open the doors to the throne room, their parents are already screaming. Regulus instinctively goes to cover his ears but seems to recall what happened the last time he blatantly showed such discomfort in their presence and settles for twiddling with the hem of his tunic once again while staring at the smooth marble floor. 

Sirius tunes into the argument with little interest. Mother seems to be having another fit as father calls them. They’re less frequent than father’s rages, so it’s quite rare that their moods line up like this. Most of the time mother seems to be nothing more than a ghost, drifting through the castle or haunting the garden for hours on end. However, Sirius has noticed that a few glasses of wine are usually enough to throw her into a spiral. 

Both have chalices of drink in their hands, and the flush on both of their cheeks warns Sirius that this night will likely end with someone getting hurt again. He’s just relieved that the attention hasn’t turned to him or Reggie yet. 

“You would reference a stranger to Slytherin for advice sooner than the woman who rules beside you!” 

“He knows more of how to successfully lead than you ever could Walburga!” 

“Then perhaps you should invite him to take my place as your Queen! Lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve sought for my replacement,” she seethes.  

“Watch your words.” At this, Mother stands from her seat and begins frantically pacing before the throne, pulling at the once intricate updo of her hair, causing black waves to cascade down in frizzy whisp around the crown on her head. 

“You’ve no respect for your queen, for your wife—”

“I have no use for respecting the poor excuse of a woman who is supposed to obey me!” Father shouts back, throwing his goblet towards her. It shatters at her feet. 

Sirius watches in fascination as the dark red liquid splatters across the foot of the throne like some eerie foretelling of what is to inevitably come. 

“Then be rid of me Orion!” 

More shouting filters across the room for some time but Sirius tunes it out, and by the glazed over look in Reggie’s eyes, it seems he’s doing the same. 

Eventually, mother storms out of the room, throwing her own drink at the wall and letting the glass chalice shatter in harmony with the angry clicks of her heels against the floor. 

“SIRIUS” 

Sounds like it’s finally his turn. 

Be brave, Sirius. 

“Yes, Father?” Orion doesn’t even bother to explain what it is that Sirius has done wrong before stomping forwards and drawing his hand back. 

Sirius hears the crack of the back of his fathers hand meeting his face but doesn’t register the pain yet. The ringing in his right ear is pretty disorienting though. 

The force of the hit had caused his head to turn and now he has a clear view of a tearful Regulus at his side. 

Reggie learned to be a silent crier before he learned to talk. 

Father fists a hand in his hair and yanks his head to turn forwards once again. 

“How many times must I beat it into that dim mind of yours to follow my basic instruction?” Father spits, shaking Sirius’ head in his hold with each punctuated word. 

“When I say you are expected to behave throughout a function, the very first implication is that you attend. ” 

The sting in his scalp is bringing involuntary tears to his eyes. 

“I asked him to leave with me. It wasn’t his fault.” And with that whispered sentence, Sirius feels the freezing grip of fear take hold of his body for the first time since stepping into the throne room. 

Did king Arthur ever feel this scared? 

If bravery is being able to face your greatest fear, then Sirius will be the first to admit to being a coward. There is no universe where he can stomach seeing his little brother in harm’s way. 

Father stills, and turns his attention to his youngest, as if just now noticing his presence. His moods are always unpredictable with Regulus. Sirius can always expect consistency from his encounters with father —displeasure and anger— but when it comes to Reggie, he seems to bounce between dotting obsession and blinding rage, with occasional waves of indifference and apathy in between. 

Regulus is worriedly glancing between the two of them, green eyes wide and watery with large tears that spill over his lashes and roll down chubby cheeks. 

Orion’s face is a blank mask as he releases his hold on Sirius to cup Regulus’ face and wipe at his tears. 

His little brother is shaking in his father’s hold and Sirius wants nothing more than to grab him and run out of the room. 

“Don’t fret Alara,” Father coos as Regulus lets out a whimper, “what has you so distraught?” 

“Father?” Regulus questions. 

“It’s been so long since you’ve been to visit, my dear. I was worried you’d left me.” There’s a crazed look in Father’s eyes as he rapidly scans over Regulus’ features while stroking his face with a feverish reverence. “But I'd never let you leave me. Need you. I’d kill you before letting you go.”  

Obsession. 

“I’m not her, Father.” Regulus breathes out, and just like that, whatever semblance of worry or adoration in father’s eyes disperses with a blink. 

Rage. 

“Regulus.” The grip on his face tightens, drawing forth blooms of finger shaped bruises to the skin's surface. 

Sirius doesn’t remember much of what happens next in the throne room. Later, when he’s half carrying and half dragging an unconscious Regulus to their rooms, he’ll have the pain of each new wound as reassurance of what they went through but his mind will protect him from the memories that his body is unable to forget. 

Chapter Text

DUTY. 

Walburga knew all about duty. 

Her duty as queen. 

As a wife. 

As a woman. 

And as the wet nurse walked away with a bloody bundle of cloth, leaving Walburga to the suffocating silence of her bed chambers, it's all she thought of. Duty. 

As much as Orion berated her, she’s well aware it wasn’t her fault. If she had any control over the matter she would have birthed a healthy heir on her first try. 

She’d laid in this position three times now. Propped against a mountain of pillows in a loose dressing gown, waiting for her King to storm through those doors to discuss her flaws once again. 

So she waited. She waited and she mourned the loss of another child who swiftly left this world as silently as they had arrived. 

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The fourth time, Orion deemed it necessary that she be locked inside. 

She can’t put the child at risk if she just stays put. 

Days bled into weeks into months. 

She sat in her room and watched through the window as life marched on. The seasons changed, the plants withered away with the incoming winter, and yet Walburga’s world —encapsulated within those four stone walls— remained constant as ever. 

A medic came everyday to ensure Walburga ate her meals and to check on the baby, ensuring her that the pregnancy was going smoothly. 

She doubted they could tell. 

She’d been reassured by too many supposed experts of how healthy her child was only to birth a corpse months later. 

The monotony of her routine continued to sweep away her sanity until a sudden break occurred. 

Nothing broke routine like war. 

Orion visited her chambers for the first time in months to tell her he was needed at the front lines. 

He said he’d return in time for the birth of his heir. 

She hoped he'd die and be left to rot on the battlefield. 

But she played her role. A pregnant wife who had to fight back tears as her husband left to put his life at stake in honor of their kingdom. 

No one had to know she was holding back tears of joy. 

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With Orion gone, Walburga’s freedom came back. With the king gone, duties of running the kingdom became the queen’s to bear and she did so with the igniting embers of ambition she’d worried had flickered out when she signed her life away on a wedding contract so many years ago. 

She attended council meetings and held an audience with representatives of the townspeople throughout the day and in the evenings she was free to wander the palace grounds as she pleased. 

At night she’d taken to walking the gardens before retiring to her chambers. 

She’d admire the blooming moon flowers under the watchful gaze of the stars and oddly enough she’d started talking to her baby. Just about trivial things. It was nice to share her thoughts with someone for once. 

She hadn’t thought of names. That was the king's job. 

Obviously, Orion would continue the tradition and give them an astral namesake. 

But for the first time, Walburga allowed herself to grow attached to the thing growing inside her. 

In these gardens, this baby was solely hers. 

Just Walburga and her little star. 

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Despite his promises, Orion was not there for the birth of his heir. 

For the first time, Walburga was gifted the sweet cries of her newborn. 

The heir to the Black throne. 

A baby girl. 

Her star took after her mother, from the wavy inky hair to thin pink lips, to almond shaped gray eyes. None of Orion's curls, pouty lips, or round, heavy lidded eyes. 

No. 

She was all Walburga’s. 

And Walburga adored her. 

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Two years passed and there was still barely any word from Orion. Just the occasional ghostwritten letter ensuring he was alive. The bastard couldn’t even be bothered to write the letters himself.  

The war persisted at the northern border and so the queen continued her rule. Despite wartime, the kingdom was flourishing. Slytherin was self-sufficient enough to survive without needing imports or trade from the other kingdoms, which was difficult with so much violence and unrest at the edge of their borders. Besides, with the majority of their men off fighting, the demand for resources was significantly lower. Slytherin’s war with Drumstrang was being funded by Beaxbaton so the usual war time expenses weren’t an issue. Walburga ensured the resources were spread evenly throughout the land, and she funded the education and trade skills of all the young women in the country who were stepping up to fill the roles of their fathers and husbands who were away. It was unheard of and had she not overruled the councilmen in the royal court, Slytherin would have been left to collapse in on itself with no one able to pick up the slack of the soldiers who had left home. 

Walburga was building a kingdom she could proudly pass on to her daughter.  

Her little Cassiopeia. 

The princess was the center of Walburga’s world. All her pain and suffering, and she’d finally been blessed with a child. A daughter who she would raise to take over the throne one day. A daughter who would reign over Slytherin with a power Walburga could never officially have so long as the king was alive. 

She may be Orion’s heir, but Cassiopia would be Walburga’s legacy. 

But all of that was for years in the future. 

For now, Walburga doted on the new princess, spoiling the her with everything a two year old could imagine wanting. 

Walburga set down the last of the documents she needed to get through for the day with a deep sigh. A quick glance out the balcony window told her she had likely missed supper. The sun was setting, casting the sky in a warm blend of pink and orange. 

“Mama!”

She glanced over at the door, now cracked open, to see her daughter peeking around the edge of the door frame. 

“Yes, Cassie”, Walburga answered while walking closer to the toddler before scooping her up in her arms. The gesture brought a toothy grin to Cassiopeia’s face. 

“Tea party, mama?” the princess questioned, making the extra effort to carefully annunciate her ‘t’s so they didn’t make a ‘th’ sound. 

“A lovely idea my dear”. She pressed a gentle kiss to her daughters nose, reveling in the sweet giggles the action elicited. 

The pair left the study, and Walburga signaled for a maid to prepare tea in the gardens. Cassiopeia proceeded to ramble about all the things her mother had missed during the first portion of the day, vivid hand gestures accompanying her words.

As they sat in the garden, surrounded by teacups, finger foods, and cakes, Walburga was perplexed to realize that it was the most content she’d been in years... 

How odd. 

Her baby toddled over and pressed a handful of squished lilac starflowers into her palm. "For you!" She sung. Her bright grin showed off the gaps for her still growing baby teeth. "Pretty flowers for a pretty mama." 

"Why thank you, Cassie." She smiled. "What's the occasion for such a thoughtful gift?" Cassiopeia scrunched her face, as she did whenever she thought over a particularly puzzling question for a two year old.  

"Hmmm. Because I missed you today." is what her daughter settled on. Such a simple answer and yet Walburga felt the burn of tears behind her eyes. 

She pulled Cassie into a hug, burying her nose into the girl's wispy black waves and inhaling the fresh lavender scent. "I missed you today too, Cassie."   

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When summer finally came to an end, so did the war.  

A treaty was drawn and Slytherin’s soldiers returned home in honor and triumph. 

Orion returned to the castle. 

Walburga knew she’d have to take a step down, allowing the king to return to the task of running a kingdom now at peace. She knew his presence would be as suffocating as ever. But without the stress of needing to produce an heir and having Cassiopeia to keep her company, it would at least be tolerable. 

But oh, how wrong she was . 

When she finally came face to face with Orion, she almost didn’t recognize him. A few years near the front lines had somehow made him seem even more cold than he was before. There was no flicker of relief at seeing his wife again, no joy in his eyes at finally seeing his first and only child. Nothing. Just a blank, calculating stare as Walburga came to stand before him in the throne room hand in hand with Cassie who was eager to see her father for the first time. It seemed as though the cold greeting was enough to sate her curiosity as she quickly pressed herself against Walburga’s skirts as if trying to hide from the imposing man. 

After a few more beats of silence Orion finally flickered his gaze down towards Cassiopeia for a brief moment, before allowing steel gray eyes to settle forward once again with a deep loud exhale. 

“I see you’ve failed me once again, Walburga.” 

The nerve . 

Who was he to speak of her failures? She went through childbirth, took the reins of one of the largest kingdoms in the hemisphere, and began raising their child all on her own. All while Orion was busy, overseeing a foreign war that they hadn't needed to involve themselves in. And she knows he was not actually putting his life in danger. No, he likely fought far away from the front lines, surrounded by his personal guard. The people could call him a war hero, but Walburga knew her husband was a selfish coward. 

“You didn’t leave me with much instruction on how you wanted the kingdom run Orion–” 

“I am not speaking of your leadership”, he spits out. His eyes flicker back over to Cassiopeia. “You are the only woman in this family who has failed at producing an heir after so many attempts”.

“You have an heir! Cassiopeia is in perfect health!” 

“I needed an heir and you gave me a daughter! The throne has no use for a girl who will be married off to another kingdom as a bargaining chip in a few years time!” Orion’s face further reddens as his anger rises. Walburga is just as furious. How dare he cast aside her daughter’s birthright. Her claim. How dare he disregard the pain and suffering she went through for the sake of bearing him a child. Daughter or not, Cassie was first in line, and would be raised to reign over Slytherin with more capability than any king. Walburga would ensure it. 

“You will have Cassiopeia as heir or this bloodline will end with our generation, Orion. End of discussion.” 

The queen knew her husband would return changed from the war but she wasn’t prepared for how he would be different. 

The hit to her face didn’t hurt as much as the startled cries from her daughter as she watched her mother stumble to the ground, rocked back by the force of Orion’s hand. 

“I will give you one more chance, Walburga. If you do not give me an heir —a proper heir— I will find a new queen”. The shock finally ran its course through her body as she processed Orion’s words. Cassiopiea had gone down beside her, curling her small body against Walburga's chest as she shook with each sob that racked through her tiny body. She ran her hands through her daughter’s soft hair to sooth her, considering the life bearing a son would sentence her little star to. Raised to be a pretty face with no voice. No free will. Married off too young to a cruel man she could not learn to love. A life Walburga was all too familiar with. 

Orion could make threats all day, but they both knew a remarriage would never be approved of for him. King or not, to bring in a mistress would cause nothing but a scandal for him. Without the church’s approval of a new wife and queen, any child he had with another woman would be illegitimate. If Cassiopeia was his only option, she would have security. Hope. 

“I won’t”. She finally whispered. It was quiet but the expression on Orion’s face told her that he’d heard it. She gazed up at him, locking eyes as she said her next words, “you will be locked from my chambers from now on. I will not needlessly carry another child to appease your whims. I am done”. For a moment the two royals stared each other down, willing the other to step down. Orion glanced away first and Walburga felt a sadistic satisfaction with the victory. 

The feeling was quickly tampered out when Cassiopiea was ripped from her arms. Orion dragged the girl to the foot of the throne with a bruising grip around her arm, before throwing her to a heap on the floor. 

Her baby was crying for her. 

Walburga was screaming, scrambling over to her child but Orion was faster. 

He drew the sword that rested in a sheath at his hip. 

And Walburga could do nothing but watch her little star fade away in seeps of scarlet on that cold stone floor. 

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The following winter, she was pregnant again. The grief that had consumed her after Cassiopiea left her in a sort of daze. She was numb to everything around her and fighting with Orion was worth more energy than she had. 

She buried her daughter in the garden. She  wasn’t allowed a grave marker, so she had the burial sight surrounded by a ring of purple starflowers. Everyone else may forget the young princess but Walburga never would. She would continue returning to that patch of grounded stars and have tea during sunset, thinking of black pigtail braids, interwoven with the surrounding flora. 

The king let her be for the most part. In fact, they wouldn’t exchange words until the fall. 

November 3rd. 

The queen had given birth to a healthy baby boy. Sirius Orion Black was declared heir to the Slytherin throne. The kingdom rejoiced and celebrated the new royal baby. Walburga locked herself in her room. She completed the task required of her position, and that was that. She wanted nothing to do with the boy. If he didn’t exist maybe, maybe , Orion would have felt the consequences of the filicide he committed. Instead, the universe rewarded his wrongs with the very thing he wanted.  

For a while, Orion would pester her about having a spare. After two years of trying it seemed nature had finally taken her side, making her barren. Honestly, Walburga was certain Orion would get rid of her after hearing the news from the medics. Oddly enough, he seemed indifferent to the matter. He’d been occupied with other matters as of late so perhaps he simply couldn’t be bothered to deal with it in the moment. Every day, he busied himself with his search parties in the woods, hunting magic folk since he’d deemed it a problem in recent years despite the fact that the fey had always remained hidden. They were reclusive creatures that never lashed out unprompted. Walburga found them disgusting but she was practical. It was a waste of time and resources to look for the causes of a nonexistent problem. 

It wasn’t until she heard of her that she realized what had really been keeping Orion busy all these evenings. 

God. how would the country react if they knew their king –an advocate for eradicating the Fair Folk– was fucking the fey. 

She couldn’t care less. She had no love for Orion, and time he spent with his mistress was time he spent away from her. 

The arrangement was perfect until the little harlot got knocked up and died in labor. 

Walburga honestly thought Orion wouldn’t have the audacity to bring the little mutt into her home but alas, there he was, waltzing into the great chamber with a newborn held clumsily in his grasp. Her husband had no idea how to care for a child. She’d done the bare minimum to care for Sirius as an infant and as soon as he was weaned, she handed him off to the maids to do the rest. If Orion thought she would put even a sliver of effort into keeping the halfling alive, he was a bigger fool than she thought. 

He proceeded to spew some nonsense about how he expected her to treat the child as her own flesh and blood which was ridiculous. The only reason she entertained his incoherent ramblings as long as she did was due to the look of utter heartbreak he wore. Eyes red-rimmed and breaths frantic. It was clear he wasn’t handling the death of his mistress well, and maybe taking in the child rather than leaving it to die on the forest floor was proof of his genuine devotion to her. 

The thought was quite comforting. That he may have lost something important to him. Finally felt a fraction of the pain she felt when he ripped away her own happiness. 

He stepped closer to her, as if to hand off the baby and with a scoff she made her way to spend another evening in the gardens. 

Chapter Text

REGULUS is well aware that he doesn’t fit in at Grimmauld Palace. He knows that the subtle differences in his appearance set him apart from his family. That his abilities and mannerisms will always suggest that he is something other . 

But being different has taught him how to mold himself. To blend in, and stay hidden.

Sirius has always lived up to his namesake, being the brightest in the room and demanding that people pay attention and note his presence. Meanwhile, Regulus learned to slink into the background and stay hidden. To walk through the palace’s corridors without echoing footsteps and evade the keen observation of his father and the queen. 

It’s this exact talent which led him here. 

He’d been sneaking out of the kitchens with a plate of food for himself and Sirius (father decided Sirius’ punishment for talking back during lessons this evening would be another day without food), when whispered voices echoing around the corner forced him to tuck behind a suit of armor lining the hallway. 

It’s just as he manages to get his breathing under control that his father’s voice registers above the static in his ears. 

“—Don’t concern yourself with whether or not I have the means to do so, Riddle. Just assure me of your capabilities”. Orion finally steps into Regulus’ line of sight. Beside him is an imposing man dressed in Slytherin’s naval uniform. The moonlight spilling into the hall exaggerates the man’s sharp facial features and the pale parlor of his skin. 

“Apologies Orion, but you must understand why I’m not particularly inclined to waste my time for a mere fantasy.” At this, father turns to face the other man and their steps come to an abrupt halt. Regulus can now see the vehement expression on father’s face and subconsciously braces himself. 

It’s rare that someone disagrees with father but on the odd occasion it does happen, someone usually winds up dead. 

“You will address me as Your Majesty, Admiral”, Orion seethes. Before Riddle can comment he continues, “and since it’s such a concern to you, I’ll have you know this is no whim or fantasy.”

“Immortality–” 

“Is within reach. All you need to worry about is bringing me the locket once everything is done.” Orion finishes. 

“Apologies… Your Majesty ”, Riddle drawles, “but I can't conceptualize how you’ll manage to encapture a fey in this day and age when they’re nearly extinct.” At this, Orion merely smirks and continues walking, Riddle falling back into step beside him. 

“I already have one,” Regulus’ stomach drops, “and once you’ve located the cave and brought the locket back to me, I’ll be able to perform the ritual.” Riddle seems to be in shock from the news but nods along in agreement nonetheless. 

Once their steps fully recede and their voices are too far away to reach Regulus’ ears, he swiftly makes his way to Sirius’ room. 

A ritual. 

Even though Regulus has always been careful to hide his fey heritage as per father’s insistence, he still makes a point to learn everything he can regarding his inhuman ancestry. He’s memorized everything in the Black family library regarding fae lore, history, and superstitions. If his research has taught him anything it’s that a human can find many uses for a captured faerie, and even more with a dead one. Humans used to hunt fey; yes, due to prejudice, but also for their supernatural qualities. 

Regulus has read through too many dusty scrolls and tombs detailing all of the elixirs, spells, and rituals that can be done with fey blood, tears, or bone. But at the mention of a locket, his thoughts drift to one ritual in particular. 

One to gift the caster with immortality. 

There’s one distinct myth that comes to mind. Legend of the first Horcrux, born from an act of betrayal between a faerie and her human lover. Many accounts say the man in the tale was Salazar Slytherin himself. They say the two were once madly in love, vowing to remain devoted to each other despite the bitter feud between their races. But as time passed, the man grew older while his faerie lover remained untouched by the years.

Doubt began to creep into his heart. 

Doubt that soon twisted into jealousy and resentment.

He longed for the same everlasting youth she possessed. In his desperation, he sought out a mage who could help him claim her life force as his own. The mage crafted a locket, a dark artifact designed to absorb her essence and transfer it to the wearer. All Salazar had to do was kill her.

From here, the story diverges. Some versions claim he succeeded—he killed his lover, and as her blood spilled over the locket, it absorbed the years she had once held. He lived long enough to carve out a name for himself and eventually founded his own kingdom. 

Other versions tell a different tale, where the faerie discovered his treachery before it could be carried out. In these accounts, she hid the locket away, ensuring that the greed of humankind would never again threaten the fair children.

Regardless, it seems some part of the legend is based in truth if father managed to find the resting place of Salazar’s locket. 

And he intends to use Regulus to activate it. 

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Sirius expects the quiet knock at his door in the middle of the night. What he doesn’t expect is the state his brother is in when he answers it. 

He quickly pulls Regulus through the threshold and shuts the door. Before he can ask what happened, his brother starts to rapidly speak in between heaving breaths while pacing in front of him.  

“He’s gonna get rid of me, Siri– Father is gonna get rid of me. I don’t– I don’t know when but he doesn’t need me anymore. Well he does need me. But I need to be dead–” 

He grabs his brother by the shoulders to hold him still. “Reggie, take a breath. Can you breathe for me?” 

“ Can’t. ” and with that simple word Regulus proceeds to break down, sliding to the floor and desperately gasping for air. 

Sirius is used to calming his brother down. When you grow up with batshit parents like theirs, it’s second nature. At this moment though, he’s finding the situation might be a bit out of his depth. 

In most cases, he’s aware of the cause behind Reggie’s breakdown, but as he holds his brother close, trying to get him to sync his breaths with his own, the incoherent murmurs of lockets, riddles, and rituals give him absolutely zero idea of what the hell is going on. 

Eventually Regulus seems to get his bearings and looks up at Sirius with expectant, bleary, red rimmed eyes as if asking what are we gonna do now? 

Shit. 

“So…father’s trying to get rid of you with a necklace? And we need to solve a riddle to stop it?” he finishes hesitantly. His brother’s previous look is replaced with confusion so at the very least, Sirius thinks, they’re on the same page now. 

Likely the wrong page. 

The wrong book even.  

“What are you on about?” 

“I’m inclined to ask the same question Reg.” 

So it’s there, crumpled together on Sirius’ bedroom floor, that Regulus rehashes what he’d just overheard and Sirius comes to the conclusion that they need to leave.

Shit indeed . 

Sirius knew Orion was off his rocker. A victim to the Black family madness and all that. But committing filicide is a taboo Sirius is surprised his father is willing to commit. 

Maiming his children is one thing, but for a king to destroy his legacy’s insurance to the throne is borderline illogical just on principle. Although, he supposes if a king is immortal, there’s no need having an heir —let alone a spare— in place to take over. 

“Well, we’ve always wanted to leave this god forsaken place. This is just a bit of motivation to speed up the process.” 

“You say that as if we’ve ever had a serious plan to get out of here–”

“We do have a Sirius plan though,” he tacks on. Just because he can, “besides, a little bit of incentive is good for the plan. Essential even.” 

“This isn’t a joke, Siri.” 

“‘Course not Reggie boy!” At this he jumps up from his seated position on the floor, clapping his hands together once before walking off to the corner of his room where a large oak trunk resides. He digs around searching for a small travel bag. “We’ll pack tonight. only bring the essentials and anything you can’t bear to part with. Maybe some jewelry along with your coin purse in case funds run low and we need to start pawning things off. Bonus points if you manage to snatch any of mother or fathers’ things to sell off as a final ‘fuck you’ for being insufferable. we’ll leave for the docks tomorrow after dinner and pay our way onto a trading ship to get us the hell out of here.” 

“That doesn’t seem like a very put together plan Siri… what if we get caught at the port? Or we can’t find a ship? What if the palace guards see–” 

“Precisely why it’s the perfect plan, Reg. Simplicity means there’s room to improvise when things inevitably go wrong my dear brother.” The younger let out an exaggerated huff but both know he trusts Sirius to finally get them out of here. Regardless of how questionable his methods may be. 

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Regulus is freaking the fuck out. 

Why he and Sirius didn’t just pack and leave last night is beyond him, but he’s regretting not suggesting it before. 

The day had gone by without a hitch. The brothers managed to discreetly pack away their things and stow their bags away without any suspicion. 

Sirius even made it through the entirety of dinner without starting a fight with their parents. 

It was while pacing in front of his bedroom door, travel cloak on and bag in hand, that he realizes he should know better than to assume everything will go smoothly. When he answers the quiet knock on his door, instead of seeing his brother, packed and ready to go, he comes face to face with Kreacher who eyes his travel attire suspiciously with pursed lips. 

“His Majesty awaits you in his study, Your Highness.” Kreacher croakes out, his aged voice coming out hoarse. Regulus knows Kreacher won’t rat him out. Though the old elf is bound to serve his parents, he isn’t cruel. Besides, the elf always had a soft spot for the youngest prince. Maybe it’s because he recognizes another fey in the castle. Maybe it’s because Regulus is one of the few people here to treat Kreacher with some decency. Even Sirius can have a slight cruel streak when it comes to the poor elf.  

“Do you know the reason?” 

“All his Majesty told Kreacher was to fetch the young masters and send them to the study.” 

As if summoned, the door across the hall opens revealing a slightly disheveled looking Sirius, redressed in his evening attire. He kicks aside a lump on his floor  —which Regulus recognizes as his bag and cloak— before closing it behind him and looking at the other two hallway occupants. He claps his hands once, clasping them together as he rocks back and forth on his heels before exclaiming, “welp, let's get this over with!” in a chipper voice. 

Taking that as his cue, Regulus also set his things aside before falling into step alongside his brother as they apprehensively walked towards the study. Well… Regulus is apprehensive. Sirius strolls down the corridor with his usual confident, carefree gait, as if nothing is suspicious about the sudden summons from their father. 

They come to a stop at a dark, heavy, wood stained door which is left slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of lamplight to seep into the dreary hall. Sirius places his hand against the door, briefly hesitating before pushing it open so they can step into the room. For as much as Sirius likes to dawn a courageous, nonchalant, facade, Regulus notices the brief flicker of concern in those grey eyes before following him into the room. 

Father’s study is Regulus’ least favorite room in the entire castle. Not only does it have the same eerie, desolate feel as the rest of Grimmauld, but it’s the same room Sirius and Regulus are called to whenever father requires a conversation with them in private (which often ends in injury). 

Father is seated at his desk, stoic expression and whisky glass in hand. Taking his seat, Regulus can’t help but notice the usually organized room is in complete disarray. Maps of the Black Sea, water damaged scrolls, documents, and dusty tombs are scattered throughout the desk. Some are even haphazardly tossed onto the floor. 

Sirius is less subtle about their odd surroundings, pointedly glancing between the mess before them and their father with a raised brow and open judgement in his eyes. 

“I’ve called you two here to discuss some changes that will be taking place as of tomorrow.” Their father states in a flat tone. He angles his head to address Sirius, “It’s time you finally learn some discipline and step into your role as heir,” Sirius is already rolling his eyes and sinking lower into his seat as if the mere implication of taking on the responsibility that comes with his title will make him melt into a puddle. “Tomorrow evening, you’re anticipated at the northern border to train alongside our army. I’ve already had a carriage arranged to leave within the next hour so I expect that you’ll be packed and ready to leave before then.” 

Before Sirius can open his mouth to argue, father turns to Regulus, “you will be stepping up in your own right. I need a diplomat in Beauxbaton to ease foreign affairs. We will leave together in the morning and you will remain in the country until this time next year.”

The last sentence hits Regulus. A slap to the face as a wakeup call. If he hadn’t overheard father’s conversation with Riddle, he would have been none the wiser. 

Father had everything planned out. He knows it’d be impossible to get Regulus away from Sirius without the elder growing suspicious. He needs Sirius out of the picture and Regulus oblivious to his intentions behind an impromptu trip out of the castle. 

“You’re joking? You’re just sending your children off for god knows how long? For shits and giggles?”

“It’s duty, Sirius–” 

“It’s bullshit, Orion.” Sirius mocks back in a forced gruff voice. 

And, oh, Sirius has done it now. 

Watching father abruptly rise from his seat to reach for Sirius’ collar is unfortunately a familiar scene to Regulus. So is the shouting between the two. Even father coming round the desk to push at his brother, is pretty commonplace. 

But then there’s a change. 

Neither of them are holding back their punches, but father fights like he’s trying to kill Sirius. 

When he grabs a fistful of Sirius’ hair to slam his cranium against the mahogany desk, the crack that reverberates along the walls of the study makes Regulus want to vomit. 

His brother is sprawled out on the floor, dazed and unresponsive, but it’s as if father hasn’t noticed. He continues to kick at Sirius’ ribs, all whilst seething out curses, spittle flying in front of him. 

And Regulus? Regulus is paralyzed in fear. Normally, the brothers have an agreement to remain invisible while father has fits such as this. It means one of them can be well off enough physically to help patch up the other. This is different though. This isn’t a father disciplining his heirs, this is a madman on a warpath. 

What is he supposed to do? Should he intervene? Try to redirect his attention? Create a distraction? He can’t move . 

Regulus is frantically considering the different outcomes to each course of action when he notices the room has been cloaked in an eerie silence. Sirius has managed to raise himself up on his elbows as father looms over him. 

A flicker of silver catches Regulus’ eye. Clutched in father’s fist is the letter opener that had been sprawled atop the clutter on his desk. 

Regulus’ heart sinks. 

Father raises the blade. 

Regulus is running to his brother. 

There’s a sharp, searing, pain in his back. 

Blotchy patches of ink bleed across his vision and his world tilts sideways for a second. 

Holy shit. Did he just get stabbed? 

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Sirius’ head is fucking killing him and the light in this damn room is so offensively bright he might just jump out the window to take himself out of his misery. He’s pretty sure one of his ribs is cracked too which is just fucking peachy. All in all, a superb evening with dear, old, deranged dad. 

He tries to sit up only to realize there’s an extra weight on top of him. Now that his senses are starting to boot back up to normal, he can also hear his father’s rambling. 

The old bastard sounds more incoherent and frantic than usual.  

… 

Regulus is slouched on top of him. 

And his back is wet? 

Sirius glances down at his brother. His cheeks are lined with tear streaks and his eyes are winced shut in pain. His gaze wanders further down, and he sees red. 

“Stupid boy, ran into it.” Orion is muttering,  “–gone and gotten himself killed too early. He’s ruined everything . All the work I’ve done. All the planning–”. 

Sirius tunes him out. Reverently stroking back Reggie’s hair. His eyes are still squeezed shut. How did they end up like this?  

A hand reaches down to clutch at Regulus’ shoulder, roughly shaking him. 

“Wake up, boy!” Orion spits out. 

He watches as his little brother is rattled back and forth as he tries to squirm out of their father's hold. 

The discarded letter opener lies beside them on the floor, soaked in Reggie’s blood. 

Most people would consider Sirius impulsive, and usually he would agree. However, there’s nothing impulsive about the way he reaches for the letter opener. There’s no clouded judgement when he envisions driving the blade into Orion’s throat. No spontaneity when he actually does it. 

Sirius doesn’t feel regret when the warm spray of Orion’s blood hits his skin. This is the man who tormented him and his brother all throughout their childhood. The man who carved scar after scar into his back. 

Why should he feel sorry? 

Did he ever feel sorry when he sent them away to bed with hunger pains? 

When he watched his children hobble out of this very room, nearly unconscious and covered in blood?

Sirius stands, pulling Regulus up before making their way for the door. He takes one last glance at the man lying on the floor. Glassy grey eyes staring up at the ceiling. Blood gurgling in his throat with each shallow breath. Limbs sporadically seizing as if jolted with lighting.  

Orion doesn’t deserve his sympathy. 

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The King is dead, long live the Queen . 

At sunrise, the palace is in complete disarray.

A servant had stumbled upon Orion’s cold body. His letter opener was driven so far into his throat it had stuck out from the back of his neck. Serves the bastard right . Honestly, Walburga is disappointed she hadn’t had the pleasure of being the one to do it. 

On top of realizing they had a corpse for a king, it soon became apparent that the heir and the spare were nowhere to be found within the palace grounds. 

All very tragic. 

So here she is. Sitting in the king’s throne, sipping her earl gray as the palace guards report their findings to her. 

No husband. 

No son. 

No halfbreed.  

All in all, shaping up to be a perfect morning. 

Maybe her first act as reigning monarch should be to throw a ball in celebration. Something elaborate and decadent. The thought brings a smile to her face. 

Her musings are promptly cut short by Orion’s navy admiral storming into the throne room as if he owns the place. 

Riddle stops before her. No bow. No ‘pardon me, Your Majesty’. 

Pretentious, pompous, prick. 

Ever since he’d shown up out of nowhere ,(because while others conveniently  forgot, Walburga remembers this man is not from within their borders), he’s been a major pain in her side. By having the king’s ear, he had more say than she ever did. Regardless of title.  

“Your Highness,” Walburga feels her eye twitch, “we’ve sent out search parties to locate the princes. However, at this time it’s possible they’ve reached the sea and escaped via the port.” 

Walburga gives a hum. Frankly she doesn’t care if the princes are found. The brats won’t last long in the real world anyway. Besides, it’s obvious they played a hand in Orion’s death so returning was out of the question. Either way, Walburga is the only one left to lead.

“I’d like to apologize for your loss, Your Highness. I myself was quite close with the king, and as his friend and admiral, I’ll do everything in my power to avenge his death and find the one responsible for taking the princes hostage.” 

Motherfucker. 

“Hostage?” 

“Yes, my queen. It seems the one responsible for the kings’ death has also taken the princes. I will leave alongside my fleet to search the black sea starting tomorrow. Hopefully we can find them soon, and swear in Sirius as king before Slytherin succumbs to instability.” 

“He is no king. He is a killer.” 

“Until we find them, we must not assume Your Highness.” 

There is no doubt in her mind that they were responsible. In fact, if she had to bet money, she’d say Sirius was the one to do it. After all, he was her son. Riddle is no fool either, he must have come to the same conclusion. But this narrative works more in his favor. Bring Sirius back. Get Walburga off the throne. Use the new king as a figure head while he serves as a puppet ruler. Lord knows Sirius wants nothing to do with the throne, it’s not like it’d be hard convincing him to step aside. 

She allows a practiced smile to spread across her face. “Very well. I expect frequent updates, Riddle.” 

“As you wish.” And with that, Walburga dismisses everyone from the room. If Riddle thinks she’ll just let him steal her place he’s an even bigger dunce than she thought. The last of the guards are filing out of the room when she finalizes a plan. 

“You two, stay behind!” 

Chapter Text

SOME would argue that James is responsible for their current predicament. In fact, Remus is still mumbling about how this is entirely his fault. But honestly, if the situation is given some perspective— 

“You’re not even listening to me right now! I can’t believe you!” Remus shoutes, throwing his hands up in the air.  

“ ‘Course I’m listening Rem,” James gasps while placing a hand over his chest, “the fact that you would even insinuate–” 

“No! Shut up, and listen!” Ah. Moony is in one of his moods again. “We need to find a way to fix this before we meet back with the crew tonight or else Lily will personally send us each to our graves and I refuse to get punished for your idiocy!” 

“I told you I was sorry!” 

“SORRY WILL NOT BRING THE MONEY BACK JAMES!” The duo is starting to get some odd looks from the townsfolk passing by due to Remus’ outburst and frankly, it’s making James a little anxious. 

Okay, reflection time: so maybe this is James' fault. 

Lily had entrusted the two of them with the supply run this evening with strict orders to purchase everything she’d written on the list before meeting back with the crew at The White Wyvern Tavern. 

Splendid plan!

The problem is, James had been the one carrying the coin pouch around. 

… and by the time they went to make their first purchase at the markets, he no longer had it on his person. 

James is confident the pouch wasn’t stolen off of him. No one can steal from James Potter. However, James Potter is perfectly capable of losing his things on his own. 

It’s actually a pretty common occurrence, so really it’s just as much Remus’ fault for not holding the coins himself. James can’t be held accountable for simply being his authentic self: A 21 year old man who would misplace his own nose if it weren’t permanently fixated on his face. 

Now, he and Remus are frantically retracing their steps across town for the lost coin pouch. 

The sun is starting to set over the bustling port town, casting long shadows into the uneven cobblestone that contrasts with the hazy orange and pink tinged sky. The breeze is starting to take on a sharp chill that bites into James’ uncovered skin. It’s getting late. With each hour that passes since this wild goose chase began, he’s become more and more aware of the indisputable fact that they are —to quote Remus’ eloquent way of phrasing it— absolutely fucked . 

James lost 150 galleons in that pouch and his captain will murder him in cold blood for it. Maybe Lily will take their friendship into consideration and make his death somewhat quick. Leave a body behind for his parents even. 

He’s too busy tuning out Remus’ creative monologue consisting solely of curse words and threats to his life, as well as planning his impending funeral, so he doesn’t see the collision coming. 

The cloaked figure before him barely meets his eyes before breathing out a clipped apology and side stepping him. It’s only as they’re retreating, hands clasped with another similarly dressed individual that James fully processes what just happened. 

And then he has a brilliant idea. 

Remus apparently didn’t notice the incident and had continued to walk ahead. When James finally catches up with him, his friend is sprawled on his back across the length of a bench, with an arm draped over his face mumbling about ‘going back to the academy’. He shoves him off the bench to get his attention. 

“JAMES WHAT THE HELL?”

“I solved our problem!” He beams. Remus looks confused for a moment before raising his eyebrows in surprise. 

“You found the money?”

“No.” The surprise immediately morphs into that bleak expression from earlier. “But listen! I know how we’re gonna make up for it. I just ran into a bloke and I’m telling you Remus, he comes from money . Not just well off either! By the looks of his attire I would guess he’s nobility.”

“So what? You want to rob him? Even if he’s rich, the odds that he’s just carrying around over a hundred galleons are slim to none. Lily isn’t an idiot, she’ll know something happened if we come up short.” Remus huffs out. 

“Well, I reckon he’s carrying around a lot looking like that. Honestly, we could probably sell his outfit to make up for the difference of however much coin isn’t on his person–” 

“I’m not stripping the poor sod of his clothes in the cold of night James.”

“-Besides, He had a companion with him. That's twice as much to steal. And even if we’re somehow still short by nightfall, it’s better than going back to the crew with nothing.” James concluded, holding his breath as Remus considers his words, still seeming somewhat skeptical. Eventually, Remus lets out an exasperated breath before looking back at James, nodding his head. 

“Fine. Which way did they go?” 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

As they push their way through the crowd, Sirius can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched. 

It’s been about two hours since they’d fled Grimmauld and he’s still hyped up on adrenaline. They hobbled up the stairs to their rooms where they did his best to patch each other up. The younger had been in a state of shock after their father had plunged the letter opener into his back but the physical injury wasn’t too bad. Thankfully, Regulus heals quicker than the average person. As for Sirius... well, he’s pretty sure he has a concussion and his ribs are definitely bruised. He’ll probably feel it once they’re able to settle down somewhere for the night. 

They manage to sneak out of the palace without any issue and finally make it to Knockturn, one of the dingier port towns of Slytherin. Sirius has his arm linked with Regulus as they navigate their way across a crowded street market (he’s hoping blending in with the mass of people will keep them out of sight to any royal guards that may be lurking around), when he bumps into a man head on.  

He’s tall, about Sirius’ height, and before pushing away, he notes the round golden glasses that were knocked crooked from their collision. Sirius hopes his compromised sight will play in their favor in case he recognizes them. Before he can find out, Sirius grabs a tighter hold of Regulus and quickens their pace so they can reach the docks sooner rather than later. 

It doesn’t take much longer for his brother to notice he’s being uncharacteristically quiet. 

“What’s wrong?” Regulus is gazing up at him, concern laced in his expression. 

A sigh, “well…It started when I was born.” Sirius glances sideways at his brother to see he is in no way enthused by his typical theatrics. Hesitating for a moment, he decides to spill the truth, “I think we’re being followed.” 

“No!” Regulus gasps out, eyes wide, “Why would anyone follow us ?”

“Shut up, Reg. I’m not talking about the guards. Ever since we made it into town my skin has been crawling.”

There’s a narrow, dimly lit alleyway so he pulls them into it so they can speak in private. “Okay, gameplan. First of all, how’s your back?” 

“Probably better than your head.” Regulus quips back with an eye roll. 

“No way. Getting shanked is way more severe than hitting your head.” 

“When we’re old and you’re displaying long term effects of traumatic brain injury, we’ll reevaluate. How have you been walking straight till now?” 

Before Sirius can respond, a set of echoing steps catches his attention. Two looming figures emerge from the direction they had just come from. Instinctively, Sirius pushes Regulus behind him and reaches for the dagger he’d strapped to his side before leaving the Palace. 

So they were being followed. Let the universe note this as further proof that Sirius Black is always right. 

“Careful with that knife. We wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt.” A smooth deep voice echoes off the surrounding stone walls. The two men continue to approach and Sirius recognizes the one that spoke as the same man he had bumped into earlier. He has a flintlock pistol aimed at Sirius’ head. “Here’s how this is gonna go. You’re going to toss over that coin pouch you have strapped to your belt and depending on how much you’ve got in there, we’ll let you go. No harm done.” The man finishes with an easygoing smile. 

“And if I don’t?” 

Without changing his expression, the man cocks the gun. Simple enough. This is really shaping out to be a shit day. 

They really don’t have any options. If the man didn’t have a gun, it would at least be a bit of a toss up if it came down to hand to hand combat. Sirius is confident in his abilities, but the man definitely has more muscle than him. Then there’s his companion, who’s at least a head taller than the both of them but seems rather lanky. Sirius could probably take him out pretty quick but not while dealing with a whole other person and trying to protect Reggie. If he gives up his coin, they’d be down half their funds but Regulus’ share is more than enough to get the both of them started for now. 

Slowly, he unfastens the pouch from his belt before tossing it at the man's feet. “There. A deal's a deal. Now let us pass.”

The lanky one steps forward to pick up the pouch and begins to inspect its contents, mumbling as he counts the money. After a minute or so, he looks over at the gunman and nods his head, seemingly satisfied with their bounty, but he gets no response back. Instead, the bastard cocks his head to the side as he flicks the gun to the left, motioning for Sirius to move out of the way. “Great. Now, let's see what the tiny one has in his pouch.” 

“He doesn’t have anything” Sirius growls. 

“Then let him prove it.” Both parties remain still. Sirius knows they can’t afford to part with the remainder of what they have. He grips the dagger in his hand.

  Maybe if I catch him off guard… 

Then, he feels a drip of water land on his hand. Followed by a few more that hit the ground in front of him before steady rainfall begins to soak their surroundings. 

Genius little brother. 

“You know,” Regulus drawls out from behind him, “that gun is useless in the rain.” 

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

James is an idiot. He loves the man half to death but he really is being stupid. They have more than enough money already and yet he’s still waving that damn gun around. 

Not that it’s out of character for a pirate. Actually, under normal circumstances Remus wouldn’t care, but they’re under a bit of a time crunch. The others are likely already at the tavern wondering where they are. He can already envision the irritation on Lily’s face when they show up late… yes, with more money, but also with none of the supplies they need. 

And then the rain starts. James, cocky as ever, doesn’t flinch but he knows damn well that pistol won’t fire now that the frizzen is wet. Maybe he’s banking on their victims being rich and naive, but with the taller of the two cracking a confident grin after the first few raindrops fall which Remus does not find incredibly attractive, and the youngers’ comment, it’s clear that won’t work. Actually the hot older one is looking a little too cocky now that the gun is out of the equation and frankly, Remus doesn’t want to gamble with whatever that means for James and himself. 

“How about we help each other?” At this, three sets of eyes glance at Remus. “You two need a way out of the port right?” When they’d been tracking the two of them earlier, Remus found it odd that they’d been in a place like knockturn to begin with. People of  their class standing don’t just wander into this section of town, especially at dusk. Not unless they’re trying to hide something. Then, Remus had counted the money they were carrying on their person and confirmed his theory. It was a dangerous amount of money to carry as pocket change. Unless it was your only option. If it was all you had . Plus, they were desperate to keep it. If they’re just nobles passing through, they’d part with the money to save their lives. They would return to their cushy estates and nurse their egos and wounded pride before moving on. 

Remus isn’t sure if these two are runaways or what, but he’d venture a guess and assume they’re wandering a port town because they need a discreet ticket out. 

“Depends. What are you offering?”

“We have a ship docked right now. We were planning to leave tonight,” there’s a flicker of hope in their eyes and Remus knows he has them hooked on the deal, “there’s more than enough space for the two of you, if you’re willing to pay your way.” 

James lowers his pistol before turning to face Remus with a quirked brow and a pout. 

“What–” 

Before James can further interject, the smaller of the two fugitives speaks up. “How much for the both of us?” The boy had finally stepped out from behind his counterpart. Now that Remus can see both of them, it’s clear that they’re related. Brothers probably. 

“One hundred and fifty galleons total for the both of you. We’re likely headed out of the country but if you agree, you’ll come with us to meet our captain and she’ll fill you in on where exactly we’re headed next”. 

The older brother(?) gives a hum in response, pondering Remus’ offer. He turns to the younger, seemingly having a conversation with one another without actually muttering a word. Remus turns to James to gauge his reaction to the sudden change of plans but the man is standing there with this odd dumbstruck expression on his face, staring at the brothers and thus avoiding Remus’ gaze. 

Before he can question James on it, the brothers finish up their conversation. The elder walks up to Remus and holds out a hand. 

He has pretty hands.  

“Alright, it’s a deal.” 

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Oh. 

Oh. He’s just beautiful . 

When James impulsively decided to rob a couple of strangers he wasn’t anticipating that one of them would be an actual angel. A prince out of a fairy tale. 

James started this evening by planning his funeral and now he’s planning his wedding. 

The second he steps forward into the light and James catches a glimpse of his face, he’s floored. He wants to run his hands through the silky midnight waves of his hair. He wants to trace the constellation of beauty marks on his face and neck. Tug on those plush rosy lips and swallow the sweet gasp that come out of them– 

“Earth to James! If you’d like to check back into reality please, we’d love to get going” Remus bluntly states, snapping his fingers in front of his face. 

Honestly, he started spacing out the second he set eyes on the perpetually poker faced pretty boy, so he’s not completely sure what the new plan is but Remus seems at ease and it appears that the two people they’d failed to rob are tagging along with them which is definitely alright with him. 

“Since we’re going to be spending time together, I suppose introductions are in order! My name is Sirius and this”, he tugs the other into his side, “is my baby brother Regulus.” 

Regulus. 

Ugh. He’s perfect. 

Remus introduces himself to the brothers, and if James bothered to pay more attention, he’d probably think more on the light blush tinting Remus’ cheeks when Sirius repeats his name back, making sure he heard it right. 

He really wants to hear Regulus say his name. 

“–and this is James. He’s usually not an arrogant prick who goes about robbing strangers in alleyways but today has been an odd day.”

For some reason that statement makes Sirius laugh. A full bodied hysterical bark of a laugh as he doubles over. “Yeah, it’s been an odd day.” Sirius wheezed. Regulus pats his brother’s shoulder in a comforting manner. 

The behavior was a little odd. Sirius might have a screw or two lose but James is willing to accept him as he is, strange quirks and all, considering they will be brother in laws. 

Remus continues sending James odd glances which he pointedly ignores as they walk through the dark winding, torchlit streets of Knockturn. 

By the time the group reaches the tavern, James has managed to plan out an entire future with Regulus without so much as speaking a word to the other boy.  

Okay, maybe he needs to reel it back a little . 

As they make their way into The White Wavyrn, it becomes clear that neither of the brothers have been in such a place. Sirius is looking around with a burning curiosity, eyes lingering on the musicians performing on the stage and the lively chaos at the bar. Regulus is anxiously flitting those wide eyes of his around the crowded space, as if scanning for each viable exit in the building. James notices that he stepped closer into his brother's space, bumping shoulders every other step. He has the urge to clear his throat to let Regulus know he is also present. Just in case he wants someone else to lean into for comfort. 

Remus spots the rest of the Valkyrie crew in a large corner booth, and leads their small group over to join them. 

Sirius slides in opposite Remus with Regulus sliding in beside him. Unfortunately, that means James doesn’t have space to sit next to him so he has to settle for sharing a seat with Remus.  

He sits with a loud sigh and Remus, clearly fed up with his odd behavior, starts to ask what his problem is when someone new arrives at their table, slamming both hands down onto the polished wood with a resounding bang, efficiently silencing the crew and gathering the rowdy group’s attention. 

“Where the hell have you two been?” 

Shit. 

He locks eyes with Remus beside him, who’s anxiety mirrors his own. 

“Hey Lils! Sooo funny story…” 

By the time the two of them finish explaining everything that happened, Lily looks two seconds away from an aneurysm. Her eyes are closed as she takes deep measured breaths to calm down. James sends a silent thank you to whoever taught her those breathing techniques. 

“Really?!” She starts.

“Lily–” 

“I mean seriously”, James flicks his eyes over to Sirius who’s trying to stifle a bubble of laughter (Regulus seems unimpressed), “I couldn’t do that if I tried!”

This is almost as bad as being scolded by his mother. Which says a lot because Euphemia Potter is terrifying when she’s disappointed. 

“You two had one fucking job to do, AND YOU LOST OVER ONE HUNDRED GALLEONS!” 

At this, Remus unwisely chimes in, “we did  manage to replace it–” 

“AND YOU NEVER GOT THE SUPPLIES WE NEEDED.” 

At this point Sirius is cackling along with the rest of the crew, and Regulus has his hand over his mouth to try and cover the occasional giggle. 

When Lily finishes her tirade and assigns each of them a punishment, the only thought on his mind is that he really wants to know what Regulus’ laugh sounds like.

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Once everyone boards the ship, Lily taps Regulus and Sirius on the shoulders telling them to follow her to her office.  

She’s perfectly alright with taking the brothers in (especially after seeing the flustered state they put Remus and James into), but she needs to ensure the safety of her crew as well. Knowing who they are as well as their intentions is imperative. 

Upon sitting down at her desk, Lily gets straight to the point. “Who are you two and why do you need passage on my ship?” 

Sirius looks affronted and Regulus seems as if he’s going to vomit. “Is that really necessary to know?” the younger one asks. 

Lily levels him with a blank stare. “Listen, I’m not asking these questions to be nosy. But I do need to know for the safety of my crew. Everyone on this ship is here to escape something or other. The law, their family, societal expectations, you name it. I’m not here to judge you for your reasons. However, if you intend to stay, I think as the person providing you with secure travel, I should know if someone is going to be looking for you.” 

Regulus glances at Sirius but keeps his lips firmly sealed shut, waiting for his brother to answer for the both of them.

“We ran away,” Sirius starts, “we come from a noble family but an abusive home. This is our only chance of getting out. We just need to get far enough away that they won’t be able to find us.” 

She knows there must be more to the story. Sirius doesn’t seem like he’s lying, and frankly the bruising on his cheekbone and jaw support his claim. Lily’s a criminal but she still has empathy. If they need to get out, she’ll help them. 

She knows what it's like to have to run away from the people who are supposed to raise and love you unconditionally. The betrayal. The desperation. The gods weren't kind enough to salvage the Evans sisters' relationship so she'd do what she could to keep these brothers together and safe. 

“I’m assuming you two need to leave as soon as possible then?” 

“If we can.” Regulus cuts in, “our family will likely send out a search party soon.” 

Lily contemplates his answer. “Very well. As you know, our stop in Knockturn was supposed to be for supplies so if we leave tonight, we won’t be able to sail far. We can make it to Hogsmeade in about three days where we can stock up before sailing further north of Gryffindor which should be far enough away from Slytherin. Besides, the two countries aren’t in alliance so you should be pretty safe there.” 

The brothers express their thanks and she leads them back out onto the deck to find Remus and James. Seeing as they’re the ones who brought the brothers aboard, they can be the ones to show them the ropes and get them settled. 

After instructing the crew to set sail for Hogsmeade, she retires to the captain’s cabin, hoping she made the right decision. 

Chapter Text

REGULUS wakes up to his brother groaning beside him while curled in fetal position. 

Last night, James and Remus had set them up below deck amongst the rest of the crew to retire for the evening. Rather than beds, each sailor occupied a cotton hammock hanging from the ceiling. Remus had mentioned that the hammocks would rock with the motion of the ship to offset sea sickness. 

Seeing as Sirius is practically green, it seems either he’s an exception or Remus is a liar.  

“Reggieeee, I’ve never felt worse in my life. Me. I’ve been beaten to near death more times than I can count and this is significantly worse.” The room starts to tip a little more as the ship turns and Sirius buries his head into his pillow with a loud groan, muttering ‘mercy’. Just then the cabin door is thrown open. 

Remus enters the room with slow, deliberate steps, making his way over to the brothers and doing a double take at Sirius’ sickly state. 

“Is he alright?” He questions, and because Sirius is a drama king, he jumps at the opportunity to recite all of his grievances with their new sleeping arrangements. 

To his credit, Remus takes all of the complaints in stride. The man must have the patience of a saint. If Regulus hadn’t mastered the art of tuning out Sirius’ dramatics, he would have lost his mind ages ago.  

“—Actually, on that note,” Sirius rounds on Regulus, “how the hell are you not feeling like shit right now?!” 

It’s a valid question. Sirius looks like he’s taken a waltz with death himself and Regulus feels fine. There’s always the chance it could be a fey thing. His mother was a water nymph so maybe that makes him indifferent to the lilting ocean waves.  

The more likely explanation though…, “Sirius. You probably feel like shit because your head was slammed into solid wood no less than twelve hours ago.” His brother scowls at the response but he’s still wrapped in a blanket like a swaddled infant with tendrils of black hair sticking out in every direction so the look doesn’t come across as very threatening. Remus, however, is frantically glancing between the two, honey brown eyes nearly bulging out of his head. 

“So? You were literally stabbed yesterday!” 

“Hewaswhat?!” Remus blurts. 

 “Gesundheit, gorgeous.” Sirius winks at the pirate before continuing, “if anything, you should be worse off than me right now.” 

“I know it’s hard to think straight with the minor brain injury, but you should know dizziness and nausea are the main symptoms of a concussion.” 

“Who’s brain is injured?” 

With the rapid back and forth no one noticed when James entered the room mid conversation. Regulus turns to face him and immediately averts his eyes only to find himself focusing back on the sight. James is wearing a billowy, maroon, tunic with the front so loosely laced, he can see the expanse of the pirate’s toned chest. 

Thankfully, Remus engages him in conversation about whatever it is pirates need to discuss so he doesn’t notice Regulus’ gawking. 

“You’re drooling”, Sirius taunts while staring him down with far too smug an expression for this early in the morning. “There’s no shame in it little brother. Personally, I’ve already formulated a multi-step plan to get into Remus’ pants.”

Without thinking, Regulus lightly smacks Sirius in the head but quickly regrets the action when his brother winces. Springing up from his hammock,  he goes to examine Sirius’ head while muttering out frantic apologies. 

The tips of his fingers lightly graze a bump towards the back of his brother’s head which only spikes his concern. He turns to the other two in the room. “You wouldn’t happen to have a medic on board would you?”

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

Maybe it’s because Remus grew up as an only child but he finds the way the brothers interact both odd and fascinating. 

They gravitate towards each other for comfort just as much as they ruthlessly bicker. 

Yesterday, some of the barbs he’d overheard them carelessly throw at each other were enough to make him cautious that it’d instigate a fight. 

Hurt feelings. 

Trigger the waterworks. 

But they didn't do any of that. They’d laugh it off and then try to one up the other in wit, seeing who would come up with the better insult. 

No hurt feelings, just familiarity and amusement. 

They know exactly where the other’s boundaries are without needing to voice it. 

Sibling dynamics aside, Sirius and Regulus are captivating in general. They’re scrambled puzzle pieces that Remus wants to piece together, just to see the twisted resplendence of the full picture. Why did they run away from such a seemingly lavish lifestyle? What drove them to trust pirates of all people to bring them to safety? He intends to find out.

While he knows Lily tasked them with helping the brothers adjust as a sort of punishment, he’s thrilled to have a valid excuse to spend more time with them. Especially Sirius.   

After the odd start to the morning, and a quick visit with Mary (she’s not a healer by any means, but she knows the most compared to anyone else on the ship), he starts to show them the ropes. 

“Alright, starting with the basics! Right now we’re on the main deck which gets the most foot traffic.” As the group roams the ship he continues to point out important features. He explains the rig of the ship, frequent tasks, and some common phrases they might hear while on board. 

“I can’t believe you big bad pirates are using words like ‘hornswoggle’” Sirius remarks as their tour comes to an end. 

“or ‘scallywag’” Regulus mutters. 

“Har har, very funny you two. You're welcome for using my time to share all of that useful information by the way.” 

“Speaking of taking up your time, what is it that you usually do?” the youngest inquires. So far, Regulus only ever converses with Sirius, unless he's digging for answers. 

“I’m the ship’s sailing master. I’m the one in charge of navigating the ship and knowing where we are.” 

“It’s why Moony doesn’t sleep in the Cabin with everyone else. The chart room is pretty much his bedroom, especially since he saved up to add a bed in there.” For whatever odd reason, Sirius whips his head up at the revelation, not dissimilar to a dog seeing a bone. 

“You don’t sleep in the cabin either.” Regulus observes. 

“James is quartermaster. His ranking and the fact that we have the space means he gets his own room as well.” Remus answers. 

Sirius hums while staring Remus down with a contemplative gaze before James steals the brothers’ attention again. 

“Now that Moony’s finished the rundown of the ship, how about we start your training?”

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

This is ridiculous. 

When James mentioned that he and Sirius would need training, Regulus assumed they’d be doing something practical like learning how to tie knots or hoist the sails.

Apparently James deems hand to hand combat as more of a priority. 

It makes sense to an extent he supposes. If they are to run into any trouble, it’d be good to know he and Sirius can hold their own rather than relying on others to stay safe. 

But as he watches his brother clumsily handle a sword with so much carelessness Remus has to step up behind him to demonstrate how to adjust his grip, he can’t help but feel this is a waste of time. 

Sirius was able to handle every common type of sword with ruthless precision by the time he was thirteen. Back home, they considered him a prodigy in pretty much any form of combat. He’d even been responsible for training some of the palace knights. 

And now here he is, faking incompetence to flirt with a pirate. 

“Your brother might be a lost cause,” James mumbles beside him with a frown, “but let's see what you can do.” 

James struts ahead to stand a few paces ahead of him. He holds up his saber, appearing as confident as ever. 

Earlier he’d picked out a rapier as Regulus’ weapon, ‘since it’s lighter to hold’.   

Regulus silently goes along with it. 

If James wants to make assumptions about his combat ability, he isn't going to stop him. Not while it can come to his advantage. 

And wouldn’t it be hilarious for overconfident James Potter to have his ass handed to him during his own lesson. 

Regulus twirls his sword in a figure eight before settling it in his grip. James scrunches his brows together in confusion, eyes flitting down to watch the intricate hand motion. 

“En garde.” 

James clearly isn’t expecting Regulus to run up to him and make the first strike. Despite the shock he still manages to block the hit, albeit just barely. 

“ What the hell… ” 

Regulus cuts him off with another strike, and now James is starting to take him seriously. 

By no means is he a prodigy like Sirius but he was still forced to attend lessons. He’d learned to use speed and intellect to his advantage. It doesn’t matter how much bigger or stronger your opponent is if you outrank them in strategy. 

With each parry, Regulus discovers more about James’ fighting style. He relies on force, but is still agile enough to evade Regulus’ faster strikes. He’s obviously skilled in dueling and wields his sword with a gracefulness that comes with years of practice and experience. 

He also tends to favor his right side. 

Regulus lunges at his next opportunity. By the time James realizes his mistake, Regulus is already up next to him, grazing the tip of his sword to the hollow of the pirate’s throat. 

“How’d I do?” He breathes out. And yeah, maybe he's being a bit cocky but he can't help that he loves to win. 

There’s an odd expression on James’ face and for a second Regulus feels his own smirk falter. Maybe he genuinely upset the other man? Regulus takes a step back to break the tension. With a sharp inhale the look flickers out of existence, promptly replaced by the pirate’s usual carefree grin. 

“Pretty good. But now that I know you can handle a sword I won't go as easy on you in the future.” 

“Whatever you say, Potter.” 

“Wait, how come you can fight perfectly fine and your brother can’t?” Remus calls out. The pair are standing off to the side along with a few other crew members who have stopped to watch them spar. 

“We both took lessons as kids. Sirius stopped attending pretty early on though. He thought it was unnecessary.” True . Siri stopped lessons when they realized no teacher could offer any training that he hadn’t already mastered. 

He keeps that to himself though. 

His brother shrugs off the incredulous looks sent his way. “I just never had an interesting enough teacher,” Sirius states, “but you’ll be able to help me right? Moony ?” 

The latter goes scarlet as Sirius continues to shamelessly flirt with the man. 

Before Sirius can say anything too crude in Remus’ ear, because that's always where Sirius’ mind goes when given time, Captain Evans appears on deck, alerting everyone to start preparing for dock. 

There’s a frenzy of people swarming around, following orders. Regulus is about to ask what they can do to help when the Captain calls the four of them over. 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

 According to Captain Evans, they are stuck running errands this trip in order to ‘make up for last time’s fuckery’. He’s not entirely sure how he and Reggie got dragged into it but he’s not complaining. 

Once they dock the Valkyrie, the four of them start off towards the heart of town. The morning market is lively with townsfolk flooding the streets, filling it with cheerful chatter. The ambiance is vastly different from Knockturn’s unsavory atmosphere. In fact, Sirius hasn’t managed to catch a glimpse of anything nefarious since stepping foot on Gryffindor soil. 

They dart from shop to shop, buying food provisions and an absurd amount of alcohol. It takes a few trips back and forth to the ship but by early evening, James, who has been reading off a checklist, finally declares that they’ve gotten everything.  

Beside him, his brother is looking about as exhausted as he feels. 

Despite the hell it gave him last night, his hammock sounds absolutely divine right now. 

“Now to get you two sorted out” Remus announces. Sirius Realizes that they’ve come to a stop in front of an aged brick building with vines trailing up the cracks in the stone. A wooden sign hangs above the door with the inscription ‘Flea’s Market’ in bold red lettering. 

Through the shop windows, Sirius sees they mostly sell clothes…  

Sirius knows he dresses well, so he hides none of the indignation in his voice when he sneers, “you trying to say something about my clothes, Lupin?” 

Remus slowly eyes him up and down before deadpanning, “you’re dressed like a spoiled rich boy.” 

Slander! He’s dressed like a rich boy with taste. There’s a huge difference between having money and class.  

“You both need proper sailor’s attire if you’re gonna be working aboard a ship for the next three weeks,” James helpfully adds in. 

Sirius looks over at Reg, finding that green eyes are already staring back at him. His brother offers a simple shrug of his shoulders before walking ahead into the shop. James immediately trails after him – interesting– leaving Sirius and Remus to enter last. 

A bell chimes when they step in and the first thing he notices is that behind the main counter is an older couple, already engaged in conversation with James while Regulus stands slightly to the side, wide eyed and blushing furiously. 

The woman behind the counter glances up in their direction and allows a bright grin to light up her face. 

“Oh, Remus! Come here, it's good to see you again!” Remus rushes over to greet her with a hug. The way he has to hunch over to accommodate for his height is quite endearing. 

“And who are these two?” The older man questions, looking between the brothers. Now that Sirius is looking at him and James side by side the pieces are clicking together. The man is basically a copy of James except with salt and peppered hair, grey stubble, and smile creases in the corners of his eyes. 

He’s quite handsome.  

“Ma, Pa, this is Regulus and Sirius. They’ve just joined the crew. Sirius, Regulus, I introduce you to Effie and Monty Potter!” 

“Well boys you’ve chosen a great crew to sail with. Though I may be biased in saying so” Effie declares. She has the same round, chestnut colored eyes as her son. “The Valkyrie used to be captained under me before I handed it down to Lily.” 

“You didn’t pass it on to James?” Regulus asks. 

“Oh heavens no! The Valkyrie is only ever captained by women. Besides, our Jamie here has never wanted to be captain anyhow.” 

“Nope,” James comments, popping the ‘p’. “Anyways, Regulus and Sirius here need proper sailing attire –Oh! And we also need more ammo” he finishes. 

Effie claps her hands together in excitement before pulling Regulus to her side, “We’ll start with you, darling. Follow me.” His brother looks a little frazzled but follows her without question as they make their way deeper into the shop. 

Monty continues his conversation with James, discussing what kind of ammunition they need to stock up on and how much. 

Sirius leans over to Remus before whispering, “they sell gunpowder at their clothing store?”

The man lets out a low chuckle in response to Sirius’ question which is so distracting he almost misses the start of the man’s answer. “It’s more of a one stop shop for pirates passing through. They have map supplies, rope, carpentry tools, ammunition, you name it. Of course, to the public it’s a clothing shop for sailors. But, those of us who know Effie and Monty’s background, know of the more illicit provisions they keep stocked behind the counter.”

He hums in response, watching as Monty pulls out everything James had asked for all whilst chatting and laughing with his son. It’s interesting to see such a positive father-son dynamic. 

Before he can focus too much on that thought, he grabs Remus’ arm to pull him along. “Come help me pick out new clothes!”   

The duo ambles about the shop. Remus picks out anything that seems practical, and Sirius picks up everything that makes the other man blush. 

In the end, they have a pile consisting of waterproof leather boots, a long heavy coat, and a tricorn hat to block the sun.

Remus’ picks. 

 There’s also a handful of low cut, loose fitting tunics, a red sash to tie around his waist, and some fitted pants. 

Sirius’ picks. 

Monty rings them up just as Effie finally arrives back with Regulus who’s undergone a complete makeover. Sirius rushes over to his brother's side, trapping him in a tight hug and ruffling his dark curls.  

“Oh look at you! You’re the most adorable little pirate ever my little Reggikins” he jeers. 

Regulus isn’t too thrilled about the sudden manhandling and after a bit Sirius decides he’s annoyed his brother enough for the day and releases him. 

Regulus readjust his clothes and tries to tame his messy curls, much like an annoyed cat trying to groom himself. 

Sirius grabs the most risqué of his new wardrobe and darts into a fitting room. When he steps out to rejoin the others, he’s quite pleased with the way Remus’ eyes rove over him. 

To their side, James clears his throat, though he’s smirking as he glances between the two. “Ready to head back to the ship lads?”

They finish paying for their new purchases and bid the Potters farewell 

Regulus stammers through his goodbye with Monty and avoids eye contact with Sirius afterwards, as if he doesn’t intend to hound his little brother about the interaction later when they’re stuck in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to run. 

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The best part of leaving port is always the party that takes place the following evening. 

They make use of the few perishables they buy and put an extravagant meal together. Fresh produce, slow cooked meats, baked goods that haven’t gone stale. To accompany the feast, they put a dent in their rum supply as they dance, sing, and gamble until the first signs of sunrise. 

 A pirate's life for me.  

They’re currently gathered around a long table in the mess hall. It’s not often that everyone has the chance to congregate together in one space at the same time so the opportunity is used to introduce the brothers to the rest of the crew. 

Regulus, overwhelmed from all the attention had finished off two glasses of rum by the time they made it around the table. 

Now, everyone is scattered throughout the room, animatedly talking over one another. Surprisingly, Marlene and Sirius have latched onto each other like long lost friends, bantering and daring the other to drink more until their eyes are glazed over and cheeks are flushed red. Dorcas watches her girlfriend’s antics with fondness before switching their Rum for water. 

The two are so far gone they don’t notice the difference.  

To his left, Emmeline is shouting profanities as she throws a truly unfortunate hand of cards onto the table alongside a pile of coins which Alice swoops in to collect with a cheer. The two of them have been at it for nearly an hour now and it seems Emmeline’s winning streak finally catches an end. 

What mainly grasps his attention though, is the group huddled at the center of the room. Remus plays a tune on a harmonica beside Regulus. 

Regulus who has a fiddle and is playing by ear while the rest of the group sings and claps to the beat of ‘Wellerman’.  

Usually Mary is the one to play the instrument but she seems content to sing the lyrics alongside Lily and Alice as they twirl around each other with linked arms. 

James watches Regulus’ nimble fingers dance across the fingerboard of the fiddle as he sways to the music— or maybe he's swaying because of the grog. His dark hair spills over his closed eyes and James has to fight the urge to walk over and brush the stray curl aside. 

But then, the song switches and Remus plays the low beginning notes to ‘Drunken Sailor’ and James is helpless but to join in on the fun. 

He slams back the rest of his drink and dashes over to Regulus, snatching the fiddle from his hold and handing it off to Mary before grabbing the boy by the crook of the arm and dragging him to the center of the room. Regulus seems startled at first but as he clasp one hand in James’ and the other latches onto his shoulder a wide grin spreads across his face. 

“May I have this dance, Love?” 

“Seems you’ve made the choice for me, Jamie .” He lilts. 

His heart skips a beat. 

The two dance with the rhythm, James taking the opportunity to dip the other, twirling him close in time to see as he throws his head back in laughter. 

It really isn’t fair how beautiful he is. Not to mention the new clothes he’d been given this morning. A thin, white, poet blouse sits on his lithe frame, cinched by a black, laced, leather corset. The top is paired with dark fitted trousers and black leather boots that come up to his knees. 

James has been ogling the other’s slim waist and lean legs all day and to say the least, it’s making him think indecent thoughts. 

Regulus catches him staring and for a second they both pause, breathing heavily and leaning into each other. James squeezes Regulus' hips, pulling him closer, flitting his gaze down to parted, pillowy, pink lips. 

And then Sirius and Marlene crash into them from each side. 

“Weigh, hey and up she rises, early in the morning!” The duo sing off tune. Sirius and Marlene each have an arm thrown over Regulus as they uncoordinatedly sway back and forth. 

The song comes to an end and with it the group decides it’s time to start retiring for the night. 

Dorcas is struggling to carry a drunken Emmeline off to bed so James steps in to sling an arm under Marlene’s as they make their way towards the cabins. 

Sirius leans more into Regulus with each wobbly step, cooing about how his little Reggie has grown up so fast. 

Marlene looks over at the brothers before squinting and throwing herself out of Jame’s hold, wrapping an arm around Regulus to closely examine his face. The trio almost falls over with the sudden added weight. 

“Why’r yer ears pointy?” She slurs while tugging a black curl down and watching in fascination as it springs back up. James drags the girl back to his side but after paying closer attention he sees that she’s right. His ears are pointy. 

Regulus whips his head over to them, green eyes wide and panicked. 

“It’s because of the incest” Sirius says matter of factly. His volume is a little louder than needed for a conversation between the four of them but doesn’t seem to notice or care. “Our parents were cousins! Can you believe that? Sick freaks. Now Reggie has pointy ears and his growth is stunted.” He finishes the little monologue with a dramatic exhale as if the whole thing is quite tragic. 

“ Sirius ” his brother seethes. 

“Sorry. He’s quite insecure about it.” He finishes apologetically. Marlene is nodding along with closed eyes as if it's the most understandable explanation in the world.

Though shocking, James doesn’t question it. He’s heard of nobles practicing all sorts of odd traditions back in Slytherin. 

They finally reach the cabins and the second he drops Marlene onto her cot, she’s out like a light. 

Sirius puts up a fight when his brother tries to get him into his hammock. 

“It’s uncomfortable, I can’t sleep in there again!” 

“It’s the hammock or the floor Sirius.” 

“Where’s Moony? Hey, why do you call him Moony?" He eyes James suspiciously. "He should be my Moony.” 

Regulus steps away in that moment, allowing Sirius to slump down onto the floor without the extra support. 

“What am I gonna do with him?” the younger huffs out in exasperation. 

Sirius stubbornly remains on the floor, going slack when James tries to pick him up. There’s no way they’re going to be able to safely lift him into his cot. 

“You know what? If he wants to see Remus so badly, let's just take him there.” 

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

Remus is just settling in for bed when there’s a sudden knocking at his door. Actually, it was just one knock with a bang that rattled the wooden frame.  

He’s about to blow his lamplight out and ignore it when the door swings open anyway and three figures stumble into the chart room. 

“Remus! We brought you a surprise!” James sings songs. 

He’s gonna kill him . 

Before Remus can act on his sudden homicidal plans, a body slams into him, knocking him back over onto the bed. When he gets his bearings, he realizes Sirius is settled on top of him, straddling his lap with a dopey grin on his face and flush high on his cheeks. 

“Oh, Moony! There you are!” Sirius exclaims, “and look, you’ve found a bed! This will do quite nicely. Much better than a mangy old hammock.” 

Regulus interrupts his brother’s rambling. “Sorry Remus, he refused to go to bed in his hammock.”

“So you brought him to me?!” 

Sirius is now fighting to throw off his boots, falling over to the side of the bed and nearly kneeing himself in the nose in the process. 

James winces at the scene and starts to back out of the room, grabbing Regulus’ hand to pull him along. 

“James.” He warns. 

The other lets out an exaggerated yawn. “Well, I think it’s time we all get some sleep. We’ll see you in the morning, Moon-Pie!” And with that the two hustle out the door. 

The audacity . 

When he turns to help Sirius he finds that the other man has successfully thrown off his shoes and is resting peacefully under the covers, inky waves of hair sprawled across his pillows. 

The sight makes a smile tug at his lips. 

He tucks the blanket up to fully cover the man before turning to douse the light at his bedside. Finally, he curls into bed, allowing the heavy weight of exhaustion to settle over him.

Chapter Text

“JAMES! Get out!”

James dodges behind a cabinet as another roll of parchment is lodged his way. 

“Why? So you and Sirius can have some alone time? ” He pokes his head out from the safety of his hiding spot and is immediately hit square in the face with a charting map. 

Remus scoffs. “Like you’re any better. Shouldn’t you be meeting with Regulus right now, Jamie?” James checks his pocket watch and realizes he is in fact late. 

Remus is ushering him out of the room but just as the door is about to close he jams his foot in the threshold. 

“James–” 

“Seriously, Remus, listen for a second.” He puts on the most grave expression he can muster and places a hand on each of Remus’ shoulders, leveling him with a hard stare. Remus purses his lips but stops actively trying to force James out of the room. 

He allows the silence to settle for a moment before solemnly stating, “just remember… Safe sex or no sex, Lupin.” The other’s face blushes crimson and his jaw drops. “Promise me, you'll use your brain and not just your head.” 

After some indignant stammering, James finally gets pushed out of the room with the door slamming in his face. His stomach cramping as he wheezes between bouts of laughter. The sound of Remus exclaiming curses behind the door grows fainter as he steps away.    

Honestly, Remus should have expected this. The nightly escapades with Sirius have been going on ‘in secret’ for a month now. As his best mate, he's obligated to tease him about it. 

Besides, with how shameless Sirius is when it comes to sharing details of their relationship, it’s just too easy.   

Rather than going back to his room, he makes his way above deck to wait. 

Their nightly meetings started as an accident. 

It was a few days after they had left Hogsmeade. Lily had asked James to take the first watch for the night. It wasn’t common, but once in a blue moon, they’d come across another ship in the middle of the night, so it was better to have at least one person awake and vigilant to steer away. Or in the worst case scenario, wake everyone else up. 

While traversing the length of the ship, scanning the open sea, he came across Regulus on the main deck, lying on his back and staring up at the twinkling lights above them. 

He was still pretty reserved around the crew. Outside of that drunken night when they had danced together, Regulus mainly stuck with Sirius. If he had to work with others, he performed his tasks quietly and kept his distance. When James came across the boy on the deck, he was expecting the usual one sided conversation where James tried to talk to him and the other boy gave him brief one word responses while silently observing his every move. 

Instead, Regulus told him about the stars. 

James is familiar with astronomy. To sail, you need to be somewhat knowledgeable of where certain constellations and stars are. Have a basic understanding of which direction you’re facing based on how a star moves. 

But Regulus knows their stories. 

He pointed out the northern cross and told him about a man who was immortalized as a swan in the night sky. 

He showed James the six shining lights representing a poet whose lyre was placed amongst the stars when he died grieving his lover– Jame’s favorite to hear about . 

Every night, James takes the first watch and spends the hours lulled into a sense of peace by the swaying deck and Regulus’ honeyed voice. 

And every night he feels more and more like a shooting star, falling and burning up for the boy beside him. 

He’s already settled, lying on his back when the familiar light creaking of footsteps echoes closer. 

He glances to his side as Regulus gracefully lies down beside him. The moonlight makes his skin look pearlescent and the stars make his sage eyes glisten. All of Regulus is captivating, from high delicate cheekbones, to the slight upturned slope of his button nose to a pronounced cupid's bow. But James always finds himself fixating on the angel kiss right below Regulus’ right eye; the little beauty mark his long lashes graze when his eyes flutter closed. 

James wants to kiss it. 

He doesn’t. 

Instead he clears his throat, feeling at a loss for words so he settles on what’s familiar. 

“So what's that one?” 

“Jamie, you can’t just vaguely motion at the sky and expect me to know which one you’re talking about.” He trills. 

James points again, not really caring about which specific star he learns of as long as he gets to listen to Regulus –who’s usually so quiet– chatter on and on.

“that one!”

“I still can’t tell which one you’re looking at,” Regulus laughs fondly. James takes the opportunity to grab the other’s delicate hand, leaning his head closer to Regulus’ so their view is the same as he points their conjoined hands at the celestial body he’s decided on for the night.  

“Do you see it now?” He whispers. 

When he peeks over, Regulus has a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Mhmm. That’s Altair. It’s part of the Aquila constellation…”  

As Regulus trails on about the mythological eagle, James allows their hands to fall back to their sides intertwined between them. 

Neither of them pull away and James spends more of the night staring at the star beside him than the ones above. 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

Regulus would consider himself a calm and collected individual. 

At least that’s what he recites in his head over and over again as he bangs on Remus Lupin’s door at dawn. 

He’s been knocking on and off for nearly a minute when finally a disheveled Remus swings the door open. Before the man gets the chance to question him, Regulus pushes past him into the room looking for his brother. 

Sirius is lounging on the bed, eyebrows raised and lips quirked in amusement. 

“Someone’s up bright and early.” His brother quips. Rather than saying anything back, he plummets onto the mattress beside him, with an exaggerated groan. 

Remus comes back to sit at the edge of the bed and Sirius patiently waits while carding his fingers through Regulus’ hair, allowing him to wallow in despair for a bit longer. 

“I don’t know what to do, Siri.” The younger mumbles. 

“Hmm. And what did James do this time?” 

Regulus lets out a huff. This would all be so much easier if everyone could just read his mind. “Last night, he held my hand.” And because Sirius knows him so well, he doesn’t say anything yet. Gives Regulus the chance to gather his muddled thoughts and put them into words. “He acts as if he likes me.” 

“Maybe he does. From everything I’ve seen and heard, he likes you too, Reggie.” Sirius assures. Not for the first time that month either.  

He says it like it’s gospel. Like there’s no doubt in his mind. Like it’s that simple. 

“I never said I like him.”

Remus rolls his eyes at that and Regulus shoots him a glare. 

Here’s the thing, he knows he’s being a little irrational. Probably difficult. Definitely a smidge exasperating considering the three of them have had several variations of this conversation already. 

But what if he’s reading it all wrong . 

Regulus doesn’t act on maybes or what-ifs. That invites failure and rejection. Both of which he handles horribly. 

He's self aware enough to know he comes across as cold to most people. Sometimes even mean. making friends and getting to know others has never come naturally to him. He's always been more comfortable simply listening to and observing everyone around him. The self-consciousness that comes with expressing himself to people is something he'd rather avoid. 

But with James it's different. 

It's easy.

Not just easy, it's something he's come to enjoy. He wants to share parts of himself with James and he desperately wants James to feel the same about him. 

“How did you two know you liked each other?” At that, Sirius throws him a confused glance and and his fingers pause in Regulus’ hair. Regulus nudges his head into Sirius' hand so that he resumes the movement. 

“Moony and I are just friends.” His brother dismisses with a casual wave of his unoccupied hand. 

What?

“Sirius… do you think I’m stupid or something?” And now his brother is gawking at him like he’s the crazy one. “You can’t be serious?” 

“I’m always Sirius.” 

“Sirius. You sleep in his bed every night.”

“Well, yeah. The hammock makes me seasick, you know this.” 

“You flirt with him all the time.”

“He’s handsome.” Great, now he’s getting defensive. Regulus changes tactics and turns to Remus. 

“You dote on my brother." He accuses. "Like a lover.”

Remus just shrugs like that’s the natural way of things.

Idiots. He’s been getting romance advice from two blithering idiots.

“Aren’t you two literally fucking?” Because honestly, what else can he say? 

“Platonically.” They voice in sync. Regulus blinks and silently reprimands himself for assuming these two would have the emotional intelligence to get into a relationship with one another that smoothly. 

He leaves the conversation at that. How two people can be unaware that they’re in a relationship is beyond him, and it’s far too early in the morning to try and comprehend it. 

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Three salient truths have been bouncing around James’ head since last night and it’s driving him mad. 

   1) He’s absolutely smitten with Regulus, and his infatuation is only growing stronger.  

   2) There’s heavy evidence suggesting those feelings might be requited. 

   3) Regulus and Sirius are leaving once they reach Godric. 

The whole ordeal is devastatingly tragic and he needs to remedy it immediately. 

That’s where his plan comes in. 

He’s been pondering over the situation, trying to configure ways that he can keep Regulus in his orbit. If the brothers continue with their plan and settle down somewhere on land, it wouldn’t be impossible to see each other again. Alice –though she won’t admit it– has a long distance girlfriend in Beauxbaton who she gets to visit every other month when they’re near their port, so it’s clearly plausible. 

But James wants more than the occasional visit. 

He wants to watch Regulus admire the stars every night and see him with flour in his hair every morning after helping Molly with breakfast. He wants to be the reason for Regulus’ teasing remarks and his peals of laughter everyday. 

He wants to be by Regulus’ side at every moment. 

He knocks on the captain’s cabin door, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Lily to open the door. 

The hinges creak when she finally answers, fiery red hair thrown into a messy bun and one boot hanging limply in her hand. She must notice his nervous fidgeting as she simply swings the door open further to invite him in. 

Lily’s cabin is clean and cluttered as always. Her bed in the center of the room is perfectly made, not a crease in sight, but her desk is littered with sprawled open books and rolls of parchment haphazardly strewn about. The floor is spotless and there’s not a speck of dust in sight but every viable surface is covered in trinkets, jewels, and little treasures she’s collected throughout the years. 

She ambles over to the corner and throws herself onto a velvety armchair, looking up expectantly as she shoves on her other boot. 

Now or never . 

“I think I’m falling for Regulus.” He starts, only to be interrupted by a snort and then full on chortles of laughter. 

“I could've told you that weeks ago James.” She wheezes while wiping the corners of her eyes. “I mean, you trip over your own feet to trail after the lad. If that didn’t make it obvious enough, the strange sexual tension between the two of you while dueling is a vibrant sign.” 

“Alright! Yes, yes, I’m pathetically down bad for Regulus, I know!” He groans. “That’s not all I wanted to tell you though. I need to ask you something.” Lily pauses at that, and nods allowing him to continue. “If they wanted to stay,” he offers, “would you allow them to join? Become one of us?” 

Lily analyzes him for a moment, contemplating. She's a fair captain, truly someone who always puts her crew above all else. He’s known her since they were kids, both growing up by the sea in Hogsmeade and their years of friendship has him confident that she’ll say yes. She’s witnessed first hand how the brother’s have changed life aboard the Valkyrie. 

Sirius is a quick learner, picking up fast when it comes to physical labor around the ship. He’s charismatic and gets along well with everyone (he’s even formed a chaotic duo with Marlene and though they wreak havoc, everyone finds them both endearing and entertaining). Not to mention, whatever he has going on with Moony. 

Regulus on the other hand is an ace when it comes to celestial navigation and is able to discuss charts with Remus at an academic level the rest of the crew struggle to keep up with. He’s bonded over baking with Molly and helps her in the kitchens every morning which they all know she’s grateful for. He’s also managed to join Dorcas and Emmeline’s gossip circle—  albeit unwillingly at first. If that’s not proof enough that he’s integrated his way into the heart of this crew, James isn’t sure what is. 

“Alright.” James can already feel the pinch in his cheeks from how hard he’s grinning. “If they decide they want to join us, they’re more than welcome aboard my ship.” Lily rises from her seat, grabbing a few papers from her desk, and heading towards the door. “And come find me later. I need to do inventory before we make it to port and it’ll be quicker if there’s two of us.”

He follows her out of the cabin, thanking her over and over. 

James mentally checks off phase one of his plan while veering over towards the heart of the heart of the ship. 

He finds Regulus sitting alone in the mess hall. Molly must have already finished breakfast and the rest of the crew is likely just waking up, early as it is. 

He sits across from him, grabbing a plate for himself, piling it with eggs, bread, and cured meat. 

Regulus is spreading an absurdly copious amount of blackberry jam on a bread slice but looks up when James sits down. A quiet grin appears on his face, just big enough to showcase the dimple on his left cheek. 

Time to enact phase two. 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

“Go on a date with me tomorrow?” 

Regulus’ brain takes a second to reboot and process what James just asked. He was close to having an existential crisis earlier this morning over hand holding. A full on date will probably give him an aneurysm. 

“Like… a date date?” Oh great. Real articulate Regulus. You’re really gonna have him swooning now. 

James is staring down at his plate, mindlessly moving the food around. “Yeah… I thought maybe once we hit land we can spend the day together in town? Just us.” He looks up from his plate to make eye contact with Regulus. Earnest bourbon colored eyes boring into him.  

“Alright.” Now you’re too over enthusiastic. Too easy. May as well invite him to bed now.  

Before any mortification or doubt can creep in, James jumps up from his seat. “Really?! I mean– perfect. Great. I’ll find you later, I have to go help Lily with something.” And with that James cleans his plate off and heads out leaving Regulus alone. 

He watches the retreating figure, feeling a buzz of nervous excitement just under his skin. 

James Potter just asked him out on a date. 

Regulus just agreed. 

His father is probably rolling in his grave right now. 

Remus is gonna be a smug bastard once he hears the news. 

The rest of the crew slowly begins to trickle in, easy chatter starting to fill the room. He’s so busy watching the entrance, waiting for Sirius and Remus to walk in, that he startles when two figures settle into the seats on either side of him. 

“So, a date in the town with James Potter huh?” Dorcas is grinning down at him, the glint in her eye telling him she won’t be leaving the conversation alone until she gets a thorough play by play. Emmeline is leaning into his side with a similar expression on her face. 

“He asked me no less than three minutes ago. How the hell do you two already know about that?” He questions while leveling Dorcas with a glare and slapping Emmeline’s hands away as she reaches for his breakfast. 

“You should know by now not to question our ways Reg.” Emmeline chastises teasingly. “Now, tell us everything .” 

He recounts the events of last night and this morning. Several times, because Dorcas kept asking questions and demanding more details. By the time he’s finished, Dorcas is gushing about picking out an outfit for him tomorrow and Emmeline is snickering about how this sudden occurrence means she’s won several betting pools amongst the other crew members. 

Emmeline is shouting across the table at Alice, claiming that she owes her five galleons when the bell rings from above deck. Regulus meets eyes with Dorcas before they both race to figure out what's going on.   

The main deck is chaos. Captain Evans is yelling instructions from the helm as everyone rushes to follow her orders. Marlene rushes below deck with Molly and Mary following closely behind. 

A cannon sounds and it’s only then that Regulus looks out and sees the other ship which is far too close for comfort. It’s slightly larger than the Valkyrie, made of a darker wood, and it flies cobalt flags. 

Emmeline whistles from beside him. “Oh this is interesting.” She mutters. 

“Feel free to share why for those of us who are still scrambling over here.” he chides back. 

“That’s the Sea Serpent. It’s Severus’ ship.” Dorcas fills in. “He’s had this long standing grudge against Captain for years. Rumor says he’s bitter because she rejected him.” 

“He actually hates James too. Thinks he stole Captain's affections.” Emmeline adds on. Another cannon sounds, and this time it makes contact and rattles the ship, almost knocking him off balance. He’s still hung up on Emmeline's last sentence though. 

“Wait. James and Captain Evans were together?” He really tries to smother the sudden flicker of jealousy but that woman is essentially Athena incarnate. He's in touch with reality enough to know you can't compete with the literal pirate queen. His question still comes out sounding petulant despite his best efforts, even to his own ears, which are now ringing from the cacophony of yelling and the firing of cannons. 

Emmeline lets out a peal of hysteric high pitch laughter. “Gods, no! Captain is about as straight as seaweed. But she and James have been friends since they were kids so the dating rumors have always followed them around.” 

“Rumors based on zero substance by the way. If everyone stopped trying to push for the captain and first mate narrative they would have noticed the brief fling that happened between James and Remus a couple years back.” Dorcas adds.  

“What!?” Now that’s news to Regulus. News he’s definitely bringing up during his next debrief with Remus and Sirius. 

“You three might want to grab weapons. The snakes are nearly close enough to board.” James suddenly appears behind them. He’s got two pistols strapped to his side and a sword grasped in his hand. 

“You used to hook up with Remus?” 

“I used to what ?” James looks even more shocked than Regulus feels. 

“Damn. I really thought that one was true too,” Dorcas murmurs, “I owe Alice ten galleons for that.”

This conversation is going to give him whiplash. 

“Prepare for board!” Captain Evans shouts, raising her sword above her head. In that moment, planks are dropped onto their deck from the Serpent and their crew begins to flood onto the Valkyrie, engaging in combat with Lily, Alice, and Remus leading the charge to meet them head on.

Sirius is apparently more filled in on what’s going on than Regulus is. His brother is standing back and off to the side with a pistol where no one is pays him any notice, picking off members of the Serpent while they try to cross over onto their ship. 

Soon enough, Marlene goes to join him, with Mary and Molly entering the fray, swords in hand, no longer manning the cannons now that the ship is so close. 

“What are they even after?” Regulus yells at James. Emmeline and Dorcas have already run out to help the others.  

“Honestly, I think Snivilus is just doing this to be a pain in the ass. We don’t have much loot on board so there’s not much to commandeer... Though, there's always the possibility that he just wants to turn us in to see us hang." James is a little too nonchalant about the matter for Regulus' liking. Oddly enough, he's quite fond of keeping his feet on the ground and neck unbroken. "Regardless, let’s go get you a sword before they swarm the ship. I’ll cover you.”

When the two of them arrive back on the main deck after grabbing Regulus’ weapon it’s as if all hell has broken loose. 

Marlene and Sirius are in the crows nest, sniping at people from the higher vantage point. Reckless for sure, but efficient. 

Members of the Valkyrie are dispersed amongst the decks of both ships dueling with the Serpents, the clash of swords creating a dissonance with the sound of crashing waves below them. Regulus takes a breath, trying to ease his emotions before he starts to influence the waves too much. During his brief time at sea he’s learned it takes more focus to handle a larger area of water. Similar to trying to suck in your gut after a heavy meal. It’s manageable but it pulls a lot of his focus. 

The focal point of all this madness though, is definitely Lily dueling with a man who Regulus can only assume is the Serpent’s Captain. The man has greasy black hair, beady black eyes, and waxy skin. His movements demonstrate skill but his technique has been completely disregarded. He throws his sword into each swing. All his movements are brash and unrefined. 

Meanwhile, Lily is agile. Utilizing her sword easily as if an extension of her arm. She’s calculated and precise with each parry. 

Judging by the way Severus limps and clutches at his side which is seeping red, Lily has already secured a win.  

Regulus is disrupted from his thoughts when a figure lunges at him from the side. 

He evades the strike easily with a slight side step. His opponent is tall and broad. He’s clearly strong if the force behind each strike is anything but he’s clumsy. His steps are uncoordinated and he has to keep a wide stance in order to remain stable. Regulus takes advantage of this, aiming to throw him off balance as opposed to trying to land a killing blow. 

Before he’s able to topple the man over, another serpent comes in from his left, swiping at his throat. He blocks it, but the move drives him back a few steps, bringing him closer to the ship's edge. This man actually knows how to handle a sword and he feels his chest tighten with a flicker of panic. He quickly surveys his surroundings, but it seems like all the Valkyries are in a similar position to himself. The Serpent may have incompetent swordsmen but they still have a crew nearly double their size. 

Regulus fends off his first opponent, disarming him and knocking him out with the butt of his sword but in the same moment, the second swordsman sweeps at his side. 

A searing pain ripples through Regulus in waves, causing him to drop his sword to clutch at his abdomen. The ship rocks and he collapses with it, scooting his back to the railing as the other trails after him, sneering down his crooked nose. 

The cut at his side is superficial but his vision is spotting and for some reason the pain is escalating. 

Iron. 

What kind of archaic freak is carrying around an iron sword instead of steel in this day and age. Unless specifically hunting fey, it’s rarer to come across. 

Said freak is raising that damn sword again, and Regulus is too delirious with pain to consider the consequences of his actions. They’re at the edge of the ship anyway so maybe no one will notice. 

Before the man can bring the sword down, Regulus conjures a bigger wave to jerk the ship just enough to knock him off his feet. He distantly hears groans as others lose their balance as well but the important thing is the man’s sword clatters to the ground, skidding away due to the tilt of the deck. 

Regulus refines his control over the liquid below them, causing vines of water to crawl up the exterior of the ship, forming a cloud of droplets which wrap around the man’s head. Regulus exhales and the cloud constraints, pooling into a bubble of water which blocks off the man’s airways. 

He’s drowning. 

Regulus is still on the verge of blacking out.    

He’s not sure which of them loses consciousness first. 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Shit. Shit. Shit . 

He’s not sure how he’s going to talk them out of this one. 

Severus surrendered like a little coward. Although, considering Captain Evans had him weaponless and on his ass, maybe it was less cowardice and more self preservation. 

Severus and his crew were tossed off the ship –and he means that literally– captain demanded that the Serpents end up in the water just in case they got any ideas of following or trying to shoot at them as they parted paths. 

With that dealt with they made their way to gather on the main deck where they saw Regulus, slumped against the railing, clutching at his side, heaving and staring down a man crouched before him who was trying to regain his balance. 

And then the water rose. 

Streams of it came up from behind Regulus, floating unnaturally before surrounding the man's head and drowning him right there on the deck. Regulus was observing the scene, cold and disconnected until his gaze became unfocused, eyes rolling back before passing out. The second Regulus lost consciousness, the water dispersed, puddling on the deck. 

He rushes over to his brother, prodding around to check for any wounds. When he pulls at the rip in his shirt to see the slice at his abdomen he has to stifle a gasp. It’s a shallow cut, not even deep enough to require stitches, but the edge of the wound looks as if it was severely burned and the surrounding area is red and irritated. 

Sirius thanks every star in the universe that Regulus only received a minor gash and not a full on stab wound anywhere vital. 

He’s so focused on taking note of his brother’s condition he doesn’t realize that the rest of the crew have circled around them. 

“Sirius,” Lily’s voice rings out, “why don’t you take him to the infirmary so Mary can patch up his wound.” Sirius nods along, hoisting an unconscious Regulus into his arms, bridal style. 

“And then I think an explanation is in order.”

Chapter Text

THE violent shivers that racked through his slight frame did nothing to warm his body in the damp, dreary cell where he’d been discarded. The nanoscopic space was all icy limestone and rusting iron bars. stagnant air and the pungent scent of wetted earth. 

He didn’t mean to end up here again.  

Regulus always tried his best to be good when left alone with the queen. That’s what Siri always told him before leaving with father. 

Be good, Reggie. 

Be safe.

He pinky promised.  

No questions. No eye contact. No noise.  

Maybe the problem was that he existed in the first place.

Usually his parents only left him in the dungeons for a day or two. Long enough for him to feel the stabbing hunger pangs and the sharp sting of his cracked lips from the dehydration. 

This time was different. 

This time, he’d long since passed the point of feeling hunger or thirst. 

Now he was just tired. 

“Reggie? Reggie!”

…and apparently hallucinating. 

“Hey, c’mon Reg, you gotta get up now. Can you hear me?” 

His eyelids were too heavy to open but he knows that even if he did, Siri wouldn’t be there. His brother was attending the coronation in Durmstrang with father. 

“Reggie, please wake up.” 

He’s supposed to be gone for a half a fortnight. 

The disembodied voice of his brother was hazy, but even through the fog, Regulus registered the terror in his voice. 

The guttural sobs. 

The sharp hitches punctuating every other breath. 

He never liked it when Siri was upset. His heart clenched and his breath constricted. When his brother was sad, it made him sad too. 

Then something was shaking him, the quick movement reminding him how light headed he was. 

For a second he faded out. 

When he came to, he heard father’s reprimanding tone and mother’s cold snipes. 

“ —too long, Walburga. Your thoughtlessness put my property at risk.” 

“Throwing it in the cells for a few days won’t do any harm. We do the same to the hounds and they’re fine.” 

“Well he’s not a dog, is he?” 

“No. Unlike that vermin, a dog can at least be loved.” 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

Regulus has been awake for less than five seconds when he’s startled from his bleary peace by a pillow hitting his face. 

“You scared the shit out of me Reg! You’re not allowed to pull stunts like that. Ever. In fact, you’re fucking grounded!” 

Sirius is in full mother hen mode, pacing the room, waving a pillow around like it’s a weapon, and raving on about how Regulus needs to learn how to call for help before bodily harm becomes a possibility. 

Eventually he tires himself out and falls onto the bed beside Regulus. Now that he’s closer, he can see the prominent shadows under Sirius’ red tinged eyes. He leans into him, allowing Sirius to rest his own head atop Regulus’. With a raspy exhale, the tension eases out of his body. 

“Sorry for making you worry, Siri.”

“It’s okay, Reggie.” 

They sit in silence, Regulus still feeling groggy and Sirius allowing himself to fully relax for the first time in who knows how long. At some point, they start to fill each other in. What happened during and after the raid. After Regulus passed out. 

“I told them everything…”

Sirius must register the sheer trepidation that runs through his body because he cards his fingers through Regulus’ hair —both a nervous tic and a way to sooth him— while  explaining further. 

“Well not everything . I haven't completely lost the plot yet. They do know you’re fey though. I couldn’t think of another way to explain both the nature of your injury and the water voodoo. Aside from that, I told them our parents were absolutely mad and we ran away because our father snapped and tried to kill us. The little tidbit about me killing him or us being royalty was left out, obviously.”

He and Sirius had perfected the art of lying as children. Sirius was effortlessly manipulative and Regulus has always been crafty concerning word choice. Unless someone really made an effort to drill him with hyper specific questions that cornered him into giving a direct response, Regulus could get away with just as much as someone who was capable of lying. 

“What about Riddle?” He questioned. 

“Also left out. There’s no logical explanation as to why the admiral of the royal armada would pursue the both of us if we were just the sons of some random noble.” Regulus nods along with his brother’s reasoning. While he’s grateful Sirius managed to spin them a backstory, it didn’t ease the weight of dread that settled heavy in his gut. 

“They don’t mind you know.” Sirius reassures. Regulus sincerely doubts it. Pirates are pretty superstitious and most people find faeries to be bad omens. He wouldn’t blame them if they deemed it necessary to toss him overboard just to be safe. It’s what he would do in their position. 

Can water nymphs breath under water? His parents definitely never let him near enough to a body of water to learn how to swim when he was younger. Maybe his fight or flight will kick in and he’ll just figure it out in the moment? 

He’s contemplating the logistics of surviving being thrown out to sea given his odd set of circumstances when a knock sounds at the door. Before either of them answer James steps in, reminding Regulus that this will be another pierce in his heart. 

James will be revolted with the truth. All those times Wallburga dehumanized him to nothing more than an unlovable half-breed resonating in his head. Why would James want something like him?   

Regulus keeps his gaze down, finicking with the red and gold quilt atop the bedspread, unwilling to confront the disappointment on the pirate’s face. 

“Regulus! Thank gods you’re awake!”

Sirius clears his throat and detaches himself from Regulus’ side causing his heart rate to spike. He shoots his brother a panicked look because why the hell is he leaving right now . Desperate, he latches onto his brother’s sleeve, knuckles going white around the tightly gripped fabric, in a piss poor attempt at preventing Sirius from walking off. His brother promises Regulus that he’ll be back soon before pulling away and stepping outside. 

Traitor.  

He’s certain it’s abnormal for his nervous system to be this keyed up unless he’s on the verge of a heart attack which he’d honestly welcome at this point. It definitely beats drowning. Or having your soul crushed by the boy who makes your stomach swoop and heart flutter.  

James’ weight settles in the spot Sirius just vacated. He wishes James would get it over with. Tell him he’s repulsive. That he’s no longer welcome here. Father always claimed that faeries bewitch humans, seducing them into ruin. Maybe James will accuse him of the same. 

He jolts in surprise when a warm, bronze hand reaches for him. “How are you feeling?” James asks.

Now this is where Regulus is confused. He's grown up surrounded by anti-fey propaganda and hate speech. His history lessons were all focused on tales of faeries enslaving humans and kidnapping children. His adolescence was spent in the company of men who went hunting in the forbidden forest for sport and bragged about the 'trophies' they dragged home torn and bloody. For the sake of his own safety, he's had to condition himself to have constant awareness of the prejudice surrounding him. To always assume everyone is capable of causing him harm solely based on what he is. 

And yet here's James. 

No horror.

No judgment.

No disgust. 

Just genuine concern for his wellbeing. The first person, aside from Sirius, to be privy to his secret and accept him anyways.

The burn of tears causes his vision to blur.

James notices his shift in mood, flitting his hands around Regulus without actually touching him, scared to aggravate whatever injury has supposedly reduced him to silent tears. His voice is a pitch higher than usual as he frantically asks Regulus what’s wrong and what hurts and what he can do to make it better. 

Unfortunately for him, the response only spurs the tears on.  

“Is it the bed? It was a leap to assume you’d be okay with it; I just thought my bed would be better than your hammock. We can move you back if that’s what you want though! Or maybe you’re not comfortable enough? I can get more pillows–” James is now leaping up to the foot of the bed, rifling through a trunk and pulling out spare bedding.   

“This is your bed?” Regulus croaks out, aggressively wiping the tears away to get a proper look around the room. The space is small, barely having room for the queen size bed, nightstand, and wardrobe. Ornate rugs with gold trimming overlap one another on the floor, pairing with the red sheer shimmering drapes that cover the two portholes. He also recognizes the paintings of hogsmeade, framed in gold, hanging from the walls. 

“Well, yeah... I didn’t want you to sleep in your hammock and risk jostling around with your injury.” 

James needs to stop being so damn caring or else Regulus is going to do something stupid. Like kissing him.

James seats himself back on the bed, glaring down at tightly clasped hands before berating himself. “I’m sorry for not being there… I mean, it was your first raid! At least one of us should have been keeping a closer eye on you. You could have been seriously hurt– you were seriously hurt. And I get if this means you don’t want to stay with us—” 

“You really don’t mind...me?” He whispers, dumbfounded. 

James’ eyebrows pinch together and a small frown tugs at his lips. “Of course not. Regulus, I lo-adore all of you. That’s always included your fey side, even if I didn’t know about it until now.” 

Before Regulus can respond, the bedroom door crashes open, rattling on its hinges as the rest of the Valkyries rush into the small space. 

He’s flooded by a sea of questions.

How he’s feeling.

If he needs anything.

If his wound is starting to heal. 

It’s both heartwarming and disorienting. It’s a weight he’s carried with him since childhood finally lifting from his chest. It’s a level of care he’s only accustomed to receiving from his brother. His gaze veers to the doorway where Sirius leans against the frame with a fond grin on his face. Like he always knew Regulus would find solidarity within this odd group of people they’ve stumbled upon.

“So have you always been able to do that water trick?” 

Dorcas scowls before hitting her girlfriend upside the head. “Fuck, Marls! Have some decorum. We all promised we’d ease him into the fact that we know.” 

“What! I’m just curious.” Marlene whines while rubbing the back of her head.

“Yeah, Marls.” Emmeline chides while rolling her eyes before focusing back on Regulus. “Okay but is it really true that fey can transform and stuff? Moving water is pretty sick but can you secretly turn into a cat or something? Oh my gods, can you fly?” 

Captain Evans, who’s perched on the other side of him, tilts her head slightly, slowly blinking once before murmuring, “huh… a cat would actually be quite fitting for you.” 

And then they’re all firing off questions. Each more absurd than the last. 

No, he can’t shape shift. 

Yes, glamours are real, but he's a halfling and can’t use them. 

 Silver doesn’t harm him, but iron, yarrow and johnswort can.  

No, he's not hiding invisible, sparkly wings on his back. 

Marlene still seems skeptical about that last one . 

Eventually, Sirius herds everyone out so he can rest. Regulus tries to offer James his bed but the other refuses, tucking Regulus under the warm duvet and fluffing the down pillow underneath his head. 

Just before slipping out of the room, James leaves the whisper of a kiss against his forehead, the faint brush of his lips causing heat to rise to his cheeks. 

"Gods, aren't we so lucky?" Sirius exclaims as he settles back down beside Regulus, wrapping his long limbs around him in a forced cuddle. 

"I don't think there's a single event in either of our lives that I'd attribute to luck." He mutters skeptically. Sirius gently shoves at his side.

"Right. Go ahead and explain how we ended up on a ship full of hot pirates then. I mean, Remus is obviously the hottest but your Jamie isn't bad to look at either. And don't deny it! I saw that blush Regulus Black." 

Regulus reminds him that the only reason they're with said 'hot pirates' in the first place is due to a series of truly unfortunate events. He also detest Sirius' statement because if anyone is the most attractive on the ship it's...well, objectively, probably Dorcas, but in his eyes it's James. 

His brother prompts him to get some needed rest, pulling the warm quilt covers over the both of them. Unfortunately for him, one thought keeps his mind a buzz.  

"Hey Siri." He whispers, peering at the other's closed eyes and relaxed face on the pillow beside him. "I don't think I want to leave." 

His brother keeps his eyes closed, the regular rise and fall of his chest tells Regulus that maybe he's already fallen asleep. It's only as he sinks further the bed and allows his eyes to brush closed that he hears a mumbled response. 

"I know. Me too, Reggie."

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The sun is just breaching the horizon when James eagerly jumps out of Regulus’ hammock and heads for the kitchens. 

He has everything planned out perfectly. 

It’s been a little over a week since the Serpent’s attempted raid on their ship. The Valkyrie has been coasting along Godric’s shore, waiting to dock until Regulus is fully recovered.

But now Regulus should have the okay from Mary, which James is banking on to make the day special. 

Lily and Remus had set the ship for the town's main Port, and James spent the last few days painstakingly brainstorming the perfect itinerary for today, specially catered to Regulus’ interest. 

Since the brothers joined the Valkyrie, James has made an effort to commit every one of Regulus' likes to memory and fully intends to make use of that wealth of knowledge in order to woo the boy in the next 24 hours. 

Once he reaches the kitchen, he loads a plate with two slices of bread, each with a liberal spread of blackberry jam, and a side of canned peaches. He snacks on a handful of dried fruit and cured meat meat for his own breakfast as he shuffles about before making his way towards his bedroom. 

Knocking on the door, he’s met with a quiet ‘come in’ just as he is every morning. They’ve formed a sort of morning routine this past week since Regulus hasn’t been able to stargaze with him at night. When he pushes the door open he’s greeted by the sweet picture of Regulus with half lidded eyes, sleep mussed hair, and wrinkled oversized clothes. 

James sits on the edge of the bed and tries his best to hold back a laugh when Regulus’ nose twitches and those big green eyes lock in on the plate of food. His gaze slowly drifts upwards, peering at James through long dark lashes. 

All it takes is a honeyed ‘Jamieee’ before he’s giving in and placing the plate atop Regulus’ lap. The way his eyes light up and his lips shape around the mouthed ‘thank you’ has his heart doing flips in his ribcage. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

The raven swallows his bite of food before replying. “Good. Mary looked at my side right before you came in and said it was pretty much healed. I don’t feel like I have a foot in the grave anymore either which is always a positive.” 

James hums in response, taking the opportunity to watch a sleepy Regulus serenely bask in the morning sunlight seeping through red drapes. The golden light catches the high of his cheekbones and highlights the curls that messily spill over his face, creating an illusion of brown and gold amongst jet-black. It's a sight he could get used to. It's rare to see the other boy with his guard completely down. To see him relaxed and simply existing.    

“I'm glad you're feeling better." He shares while sitting down on the edge of the bed, leaning their shoulders together. "You're in the clear to come and go as you please now..." For a moment he deludes himself into thinking the expression that crosses over Regulus' face is one of discontent. That maybe he feels the same distress James does when he remembers that the brothers technically aren't here to stay. 

It doesn't mean he won't do his best to convince him otherwise though. 

"...which poses the question of how you'd feel if I asked you to accompany me on that date this afternoon?” Regulus' gaze locks onto him for a moment, which is the only warning he gets before the boy is throwing himself at James with a blinding grin, crushing him in a bruising hug mumbling a quiet 'yes' into his shoulder. 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊★₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

“It’s crazy that you’re talking about going on a date with lover boy when I distinctly recall saying you were grounded.”  

Regulus balls up another shirt and throws it at Sirius before turning back to the chest where they keep all their clothes. “Yeah. Last week.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re still grounded until I declare you ungrounded.” His brother responds petulantly. He’s sitting on the floor between their hammocks, sifting through the pouch of jewelry they had snatched during their flee from Slytherin. 

“And as far as I’m concerned, you’re not my parent and have no say in whether or not I’m grounded. Besides, I’m too old for that nonsense in the first place.” He rebukes with an eye-roll. 

At that Sirius snorts. “Please, I’m more your parent than Orion or Walburga could ever be. Besides, in my eyes, you’ll always be my baby brother.” He holds a long silver chain up with an emerald pendant, raising an eyebrow in question. 

Regulus rummages through the chest, pulling out an ivory, poet shirt, with lace trimming. “With this?” He asks. Sirius nods in approval and Regulus changes into the outfit the two of them put together. The chosen items are paired with black, form fitting trousers, his normal sailor boots, silver rings, and the black, velvety, cloak with silver embroidery he’d worn when they first left Grimmauld. 

By the time the finishing touches on his appearance are complete, it’s nearing the time he’s supposed to meet with James on the main deck. Regulus is about to bid Sirius goodbye but his brother dismisses it, turning on his heel and leading the way above deck, as if escorting him. 

James is already waiting, casually leaning against the railing and looking out at the bustling port. As the brothers approach, his head snaps forward, eyes locking on Regulus and slowly roaming over him, heavy lidded gaze accompanied by his signature smirk. 

“You look beautiful, love.” He drawls. Unfortunately, Regulus is too busy internally freaking out over the pet name to give a prompt response, allowing Sirius the opportunity to jump in with the grace of an oversized Newfoundland bounding through a china shop. 

“Alright Potter, ground rules.” 

He helplessly watches as his brother storms into James' personal space.

How is it that it’s his date and yet it’s his brother who’s currently nose to nose with James? The latter of which has his hands raised in an attempt to de-escalate whatever rampage Sirius is about to go on. 

“Siri, this really isn’t necessary–” 

“Number one,” he cuts Regulus off, jabbing his pointer finger into James’ chest. “No funny business. Hands above the waist at all times! No exceptions!” James is rapidly nodding along with Sirius’ words, brown eyes wide and unblinking. “Two: you will be a gentleman and have him home before dark, understood?” Silence. “Answer when I ask you a question!” 

“Yes.” he squeaks out. Regulus would never in a million years believe James Potter to squeak. 

Well… except for when he’s being reprimanded by captain Evans. 

This is truly getting out of hand. 

“Good.” Sirius leans in impossibly closer, now seething into the pirate's ear. “And if I find out you hurt my baby brother in any way, I’ll string you up to the mast of the ship by your balls, got it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Sirius’ entire demeanor changes at that, clapping James on the back and telling him to have a good time. He steps back, looping an arm around Reg “Have fun. Be safe. No hanky panky, but if you’re gonna give it up, make him work for it.” James squawks in the background and Regulus pushes his brother off of him. 

“Piss off Sirius, it’s just a date.” He grabs James’ hand and leads the both of them off the ship. 

Just as they’re about to blend in with the rest of the crowd, Sirius leans over the side of the ship, cupping his hands around his mouth so his obnoxious voice carries through the space between them. “Hey! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

“That’s not taking much off the table, Sirius!” He shouts back. 

The last he sees of his brother before turning away is the vulgar hand gesture he shoots his way. 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

With his brotherly obligations out of the way, he heads to the chart room looking for Remus, intending to spend the rest of his day with the man. Although, he won’t lie, getting to scare James a bit before his date was beyond entertaining.

The pirate looked like a startled deer.

Maybe he’ll start calling him prongs.  

The two of them have actually become quite close as friends in this past month. Their personalities blend well and Sirius always finds himself having fun when the two of them are assigned the same tasks for the day. If anyone's gonna date his brother, James is a solid choice worthy of his blessing.
 

When he opens the door, because they’re past knocking at this point, Remus is hunched over the large wooden table at the center of the room, pointedly staring down a piece of parchment. 

Sirius doesn’t announce his presence at first, relishing the opportunity to admire the other in his natural element.

The furrow of his eyebrows that creates a pinched line Sirius wants to sooth away with a kiss.

The way the daylight seeping through the porthole strikes his irises just right, transforming hypnotizing amber into molten honey.

Even the tense line of the man’s shoulders is captivating... Mainly because when Remus is tense, the subconscious flex of his back muscles is divine . 

Deciding he’s ogled the pirate long enough, he finally approaches from behind, bracketing him between his own body and the table, glancing around the taller’s shoulder to peer at the paper.

What Sirius assumed to be a monotonous document or nautical map was something misaligned with any of his preconceived expectations. Laid out on the table is a large piece of sepia parchment, mapping out the Black Sea as well as the six surrounding kingdoms. What makes the map peculiar are the small sketches of ships, floating across the paper, each labeled with a banner indicating its name. 

Sirius would assume it was an illusion of some sort. Except as he scans the map and notes the accurate labels for each Slytherin naval ship, or the fact that the map’s version of the Valkyrie is parked in the precise area of Godric's port where they currently reside, he realizes it’s very much real. 

“How– What is this?” Sirius notices more and more details. Inky clouds swirling around the south eastern portion of the map, hinting at an incoming storm. Fluid waves reflecting the currents and their direction. A large swirl moving southwest, the trajectory indicating it will hit the coast of Ilvermorny if it persists. 

“Something I’ve been working on since my academy days.” Remus responds, leaning his weight into Sirius. “I started the outline of the map during my fourth year while shadowing voyages across the Black Sea. The enchantment was done by a mage.” Remus smiles fondly, a faraway look taking over his expression. “Oddly enough, she was the school nurse. I was in the infirmary frequently so she kind of took me under her wing. Honestly it’s not shocking she was magic. The woman could heal anyone of anything with no trouble. Anyway, the day I graduated, she charmed the map as a parting gift.” 

“Do you ever go back to visit her?”   

The smile on Remus’ face falters for a moment, transforming into something wistful. “She’s passed.” He wipes at his eyes but Sirius catches the glisten of tears. “Anyway, now we use the map to avoid certain ships and stay ahead of bad weather. I will say, madam Pomfry would probably hit me upside the head if she knew I was using her gift for something as dangerous as pirating.”  

Sirius chuckles at that. It’s always special to learn more about Remus’ past. He’s usually quite reserved regarding his time before the Valkyrie and Sirius has learned not to pry. There’s probably a reason behind his silence. 

He trails a finger reverently across the parchment, tracing the swirling ink of Remus’ scrawling penmanship. 

The Marauder's Map. 

Remus spins in his grasp, looping his arms around Sirius’ waist to tug him closer. “So what have you been up to this afternoon? I haven’t seen much of you today.” 

“That’s odd. I vividly remember you seeing all of me this morning.” Sirius leans back with a smirk. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“You love it.”  

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

It’s been a long time since Regulus allowed himself to be lost in a moment without acknowledging the impending sense of doom trailing after him like a dark shrouded phantom. 

No concern for the probable bounty over his and Sirius’ heads. 

No dead father. 

No mother that loathes him. 

Just James and his charming laughter that burns away every dark, icy, whisper in his head. 

The two of them are sitting by the shore, surrounded by nothing but the ocean waves and clear sky. James had led them on a tour of hidden gems throughout town. 

A quaint art exhibit full of humanist paintings. 

A two story bookstore with grand stained glass windows. 

A bakery that specializes in authentic Hufflepuff pastry. 

It was the perfect day. 

Now they’re side by side, watching the sun set, laughing as stories are traded back and forth. 

“Seriously! You can ask Lily if you don’t believe me, she was there too!” James bellows. “We were supposed to be in and out; A real stealth mission. Problem is, when we’d gotten the loot, the governor's guards had been alerted and started to chase us across the property. Lily and I cleared the fence but when Remus jumped it, he tore his trousers. Gave the guards a clear view of his ass!” At this point James is cackling and Regulus has long given up on trying to hide his own laughter. 

“That’s why you call him Moony?” He giggles. “Sirius totally thinks it’s a term of endearment! Always ‘my moony this ’ and ‘ my moony that’. ” He fakes a gag.

The two of them were disgustingly saccharine.  

“Well your brother does make it sound rather romantic. Besides, he has boyfriend privileges that I don’t so, it’s no wonder Remus lets it slide when it’s him.”

That has Regulus clutching his stomach and throwing his head back again. “‘Boyfriend privileges’! They don't even know they’re together!” 

“They’re doing a shit job of keeping it secret.” James deadpans while quirking an eyebrow. 

“Apparently there’s no secret to be kept,” Regulus trills, “allegedly, they’re platonic soulmates that sleep together. They really don't know they're dating”

James’ jaw drops, sputtering about how he was so sure they were a couple. 

“They go on more dates with each other than Marlene and Dorcas though," he says before taking on a mocking tone, "'platonic soulmates that sleep together, he says. Thats literally the definition of a boyfriend!”

By the time the both of them calm down, the sun is just kissing the ocean waves in the horizon, painting the sky pink and purple, the edges a dark enough tint to display the brightest planets and stars. The sun casts James in gold and Regulus can’t help but think if Helios was real, they’d be lookalikes. 

Regulus wants to kiss him. 

It's not just that though. Yes, James is beautiful. He's confident, and skilled, and puts everyone else first. But Regulus is just as enamored with the version of him that talks a bit too loud when he's excited. The James that awkwardly stumbles over his words when he's nervous. The same James that is a shameless flirt yet hopeless romantic.  

The James that took the time to patiently wait outside his walls until Regulus felt safe enough to lower them and let him in.  

“You should ask me.” Regulus whispers, looking away from the sun god beside him and staring at his token instead. 

“Ask you what?” James prods, nudging the shorter’s shoulder with his own. 

“You said the raid would alter my decision of whether I’d stay or not.” He turns back to James, leaning further in and staring up into pools of whiskey. “Ask me, Jamie.” He breathes out. 

James’ gaze flits around Regulus’ face as if trying to determine if he means it or not before settling on Regulus lips. 

“Stay with me?” He rasps out. 

Regulus presses their lips together in answer. 

The kiss is gentle and sweet. It makes his breath hitch and blood rush in his ears. James bites his lip, licking his way into Regulus’ mouth while bringing a hand to tilt his chin up and stroke his thumb along his cheekbone. 

Regulus has kissed boys before. Attractive strangers from foreign kingdoms that he'd meet at lavish galas hosted by his parents. None of those encounters were anywhere near what it felt like with James though. This has his stomach swooping and feels like taking a deep breath of fresh air after spending an eternity locked inside. 

He gravitates towards James’ warmth, throwing a leg over to straddle his hips, running his hands through dark unruly curls and tugging hard. He feels James’ hands trail down his sides, causing a shiver to run up his spine and a sharp gasp when they finally settle on his waist, gripping tight and dragging him closer. 

Regulus is lost in the moment as James begins to trail warm open mouthed kisses down his neck. 

“Jamie” he pants, ghosting a hand down from his hair and digging his nails into the muscles of his back. James groans and bites the juncture between his neck and shoulder, teasing the sensitive skin between his teeth. He experimentally grinds down, chasing the spark that ignites in his core with each caress, squeeze, and bite. 

The haze that overtakes his mind is all consuming, making it all the more jarring when James suddenly pulls away. 

His hair is a mess, brown eyes dilated, and lips swollen. Regulus chases after him but before he can slot their mouths together, James angles his head away, kissing Regulus on his right cheek, just below his eye.

James settles back, taking in Regulus’ appearance as if he were one of the art pieces they admired earlier in the day. 

“You’re like starlight, love.” He whispers reverently.

“You shouldn’t say things like that unless you want me to kiss you again.” 

“Then I’ll keep the rest of my thoughts to myself.” He smirks. “I promised your brother I’d have you back before dark and I have no intention of finding out if he means well on those threats.” James says while pulling Regulus up to stand. 

They make their way back to the Valkyrie hand in hand. 

Regulus can’t help but think that despite growing up in a palace, this is the life he was always meant to have.

Chapter Text

IF they were capable of operating this ship on their own, Evan would have given in to Barty’s suggestion of mutiny ages ago. 

Problem is, everyone else on this crummy vessel believes the sun shines out of Riddle's arse or something, so there’s really no chance that the two of them would survive turning their backs on captain shit bag. 

It’s quite literally the middle of the night and Riddle’s harebrained second in command has been lecturing them on something or other for just short of an hour. 

It’s beyond tiring.  

“I think I’ve figured it out, Rosie.” Barty whispers in faux wonder. “Lestrange is actually infatuated by the sound of his own voice. It must be some sort of psychological failsafe since he knows no one else could love him.” He has an arm slung around Evan’s shoulder, his exhaustion showing as he settles most of his weight on him. Riddle has them on deck for an absurd percentage of the day. 

Breaks are nonexistent. 

Sleep is a luxury. 

“Could’ve told you that ages ago Bee. When I told him to go fuck himself the other day, I genuinly worried he didn’t take it as an insult.” Barty’s snickers are covered by Rabastan’s continued nonsensical ramblings. 

Before the idiot can work himself up to the point of aneurysm, Riddle steps out from the captain’s cabin, the resounding echo of his boots against the floorboards effectively quieting the group within seconds. 

Riddle surveys his crew. Carmine eyes roving over each shipmate with a cold indifference. To him, his followers are nothing more than chess pieces to be exploited and discarded for personal gain.  

When he finally speaks, it’s hushed tones overlaid with hissed consonants and strained vowels, but it carries just as effectively as a scream cutting through the silence. 

“Tomorrow we reach Beauxbatons. My Intel says the Valkyrie docks in their port regularly.” His pace is lethargic as he stalks through the crowd. “I want the princes captured via any means necessary. If you must harm them, so be it, but they will be brought aboard my ship alive.” Riddle ceases his movement, settling his eerie stare on his second in command. “Understood?” 

A chorus of ‘aye' and ‘yes, admiral’ are repeated in answer. With his lighthearted pep talk out of the way he dismisses them for bed, but not before demanding the newbies remain outside to take first watch. 

What a dick.   

 Everyone clears the deck, leaving him and Barty to settle at the helm for the night. 

“So what's the plan? Supposing his intel is actually accurate this time.” Barty grouches. 

What a great question . 

In fact, it’s the very same question that’s been ruminating through his mind since the queen called upon the two least experienced members of the king’s guard to accomplish a batshit crazy mission. 

The mission being treason. Regicide if anyone wants to be real specific. 

 He and Barty had quite literally been working within the palace walls for less than a day when: 

   1) The king got murked.    

   2) The heirs both decided to fuck off. 

   3) The queen gave them the impossible task of not only tracking the princes down but killing them. 

Evan would actually find the whole ordeal quite amusing if it wasn’t a major stressor in his already shitty life. 

“I guess we wait for the others to do the work for us and then kill the princes as they’re being escorted back into Slytherin.” Considering the stakes, it’s barely a plan. Even calling it a concept of an idea of a plan would be generous. 

“Right…” Barty trails off, squinting his eyes at the horizon in thought. “And when we’re inevitably caught for assassinating members of the royal family?” 

“In that scenario, we pray the queen is sane enough to offer us a pardon for acting on her wishes.” 

“If our lives are dependent on the queen being in the right frame of mind we’re absolutely and unequivocally fucked.” 

Evan can’t do much but sagely nod in agreement. 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

The season has changed since they ran away. The air has since become chilled, the frigid ocean spray is biting, the constellations have shifted. 

The real testament of time passing was his brother stumbling into the dining hall last night, theatrically announcing that he and Remus were together (as if they hadn't essentially been dating for several months on end already). Nevertheless, Emmeline still won a lot of money for it despite the timeline and the crew took the announcement as a reason to celebrate; meaning most of them wound up cripplingly hungover the following morning. 

All in all, life as a pirate is good. 

“Alright ladies, shut the hell up, I have gossip.” Emmeline slams her hands down on the table he and Dorcas occupy. The jarring noise causes the both of them to groan in pain. 

“We weren’t even talking.” Dorcas mutters. 

“And I’m a boy” Regulus huffs. 

“Yes, Reg. A very pretty boy.” Dorcas mocks, holding her head in her hands and concentrating on not throwing up. 

Emmeline disregards their complaints, settling down across from them. 

“Rumor has it, Alice has a secret girlfriend in Beauxbatons .” Regulus is almost certain James started that rumor but keeps it to himself. “I propose we follow her and figure out if it’s true or not.” 

“Is that not an invasion of privacy?” 

Emmeline levels him with a glare. “I have ten galleons on the line here, Regulus.”

“Em,” he starts slowly, “do you ever think you might have a gambling problem?” 

“It’s not a problem if I’m always winning.” She replies with an uncanny smile. 

From there, Emmeline gives the both of them a detailed rundown of the plan that they begrudgingly run along with, thus how Regulus wound up in the center of the bustling city lost and alone. 

Emmeline had immediately beelined for Alice once they’d stepped off the Valkyrie and he’d gotten separated from Dorcas around an hour ago. 

After about five minutes of scanning the crowd looking for familiar waist length braids adorned with silver charms and beads, he switched strategies, opting for the good old sit and wait method. 

The same strategy toddlers are encouraged to enact when they’re separated from their parents during an errand run. 

Is it a little embarrassing? Sure. 

Does he particularly care? No. 

He finds a bench outside, waits for the lingering nausea to pass, and makes himself comfortable. 

Well … he would be comfortable if this guy would stop staring at him. 

The man stands at the center of the bustling crowd, his tall figure distinctly out of place, allowing passing townsfolk to bump into him in their flurry…and yet he doesn’t move. Not even slightly. Just continues to stare ahead with unblinking, dark, beady eyes.

It’s unsettling. 

Regulus tries to determine if he’s seen the man before but his memory turns up blank. There’s nothing familiar about the man’s shoulder length waves or long, graying, circle beard.   

The man takes a deliberate step forward, his dark cloak swishing with the movement before settling again. He’s still several yards away but that small step forward felt as if he had narrowed the distance between them down to an arms length. The weight of his stare too akin to a predator stalking prey. 

Regulus is just about to move elsewhere, slowly rising from his seat, keeping his eyes forward, too anxious to turn his back to the man. A swarm of people walk by in front of him, obscuring their eye contact with one another for a moment. 

When the crowd passes, the man is gone. 

Regulus rapidly scans back and forth, but it’s as if his watcher has vanished into thin air. 

Despite the threat being out of sight, he's still on edge. He settles back in his seat, ignoring the slight shake of his hands and the shiver that runs up his body, eliciting goosebumps on his arms and causing the hairs at the nape of his neck to stand straight. 

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. Everything’s fine. Maybe that man wasn’t even staring at him… or perhaps he thought he recognized Regulus as a familiar face. There are a million explanations for his odd behavior and at least he’s gone now. Regulus won’t even think about this later when he’s back on the ship tonight, tucked under James’ arm and laughing along with his crewmates — probably at Sirius’ expense. 

Deep breath in… 

Hold…2…3…4. 

And out…

When he blinks his eyes back open, they land on the ground beside him. More specifically leather boots that rest beside his own. 

His heart lurches up into the back of his throat, blocking his airway, ceasing his breath. 

The man sits beside him, body rigid and facing forward, but his head is turned 90°, so he can peer down his long hooked nose directly at Regulus. 

His mind screams at him to move but his body is frozen, unable to compute the firing signals telling him he’s in danger. 

It’s fight or flight and his instincts are stuck on freeze . 

“Well done Karkaroff,” a familiar voice sounds from behind Regulus, “you’ve found him.” 

In any other circumstance, Regulus would consider himself senile for welcoming the voice of Rabastan Lestrange. The same that haunts his childhood memories, leaving scars in the way that he’ll always peer around a dark corner before turning, or refuse to enter a room alone if it can't be unlocked from the inside.

That orotund voice is apparently just what his nervous system needed to wake back up. He jolts up from the bench, stumbling a bit but catches himself. He lunges forward, ready to run into the crowd but a chilling hand wraps around his wrist, squeezing so hard it feels as if his bones are grating together. He tries to pull his arm out of Karkaroff’s grasp but the man just clenches his fist tighter. 

Two arms wrap around him from behind, further immobilizing him. Rabastan’s heated breath condenses against his neck as he speaks but Regulus can’t make out his words due to the ringing echoing in his ears. 

His breath comes out shaky and shallow. The lack of air he’s able to inhale would probably make him pass out. 

Not that it matters. The wet cloth Rabastan presses over his nose and mouth has him blacking out anyway. 

The world before him blurs and his sight tunnel visions on Karkaroff’s blank face before him. The sweet pungent scent emanating from the cloth is the last thing he registers before his consciousness slips. 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Sirius paces back and forth in front of the helm. 

Ten steps. 

Pivot.

Ten steps. 

Pivot. 

Ten steps… 

“Sirius, you’re making the rest of us dizzy.” Remus’ voice cuts in. though, even he sounds weary. 

Pivot. 

Ten steps. 

Regulus, Dorcas, and Emmeline have been gone since morning and now the sun is barely visible on the horizon. Regulus is gone and Sirius has no idea where he is or when he’s coming back.

And the weather has been gloomy all day.  

James is leaning against the side of the ship beside the bow, anxiously bouncing his foot and tugging at one of his curls. 

Pivot. 

“I just feel like they should have been back by now.” He says for the umpteenth time this evening. 

“He’s an adult Sirius, it’s not like he has a curfew.” Sirius adores Remus. He really truly does. But he doesn’t understand that Sirius’ sanity has a direct correlation to Regulus’ wellbeing. Whether or not Sirius wakes up a good person is dependent on his baby brother being safe and happy. If those two things aren’t guaranteed, Sirius would drag this world through hell and back in order to right its wrongs. He’d burn cities and curse bloodlines if needed. The day his brother is taken from him is the day he loses touch with his empathy and humanity.   

Ten steps. 

The sound of clamoring footfall ceases his pacing. Emmeline and Dorcas rush onto the main deck, sweat soaked and panting. 

“Is Regulus here?” Emmeline wheezes out, scanning the ship’s surface as if Reggie will pop up from one of the floorboards. 

“We thought he was with you?” James addresses the girls. A worry line creases between his brows. 

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘is he here?’” Sirius hisses. Emmeline tenses and Dorcas takes a cautious step back, both regarding him with uneasy expressions. 

“Sirius…” Remus warns. 

“No. I want them to tell me what the hell happened to my brother.”

“We don’t know,” Dorcas starts, “we got separated this morning…”

“This morning? ”

“We’ve been looking for him throughout town and we couldn’t find him anywhere. We figured he’d head back here if he couldn’t find us.” 

Pivot. 

Ten steps. 

He’s been gone for hours. Anything could have happened to him in that amount of time. He could be scared. He could be hurt. He could be dead. 

Warm hands wrap around his own, pulling them down in front of him. It’s only then that he notices his scalp no longer stings. 

His mother pulls at her hair too when she has her episodes.

“Sirius, breath.” worried amber eyes peer into unfocused gray. “We’ll find him. We can gather the rest of the crew and we’ll go scout the town.”

Scout the town. For his lost brother. His brother who’s gone. 

He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.

His scalp burns again. 

All he can think of is the little boy with big green eyes, and chubby cheeks who used to trail after him through empty castle halls. The boy who crawled into his bed seeking comfort when their parents had screaming matches in the dead of night. The boy he taught how to walk. The boy whose first words were ‘Siri’. That boy is alone somewhere and Sirius can’t get to him.  

Sirius is twelve again, helplessly watching as his father ‘disciplines’ Reggie in the throne room. Watching from where he’s collapsed on the cold floor as his brother bleeds out beside him… 

A sharp slap to the face shocks him back into the present. 

Lily Evans stands in front of him, right hand slightly raised, ready to slap him again if necessary. When she speaks her tone is gentle but firm. “Sirius, we’re going to find Regulus, but we can’t help him unless you calm down first. You can’t help your brother if you can’t think with a clear head.” 

He knows she’s right. It’s so easy to slip but spiraling will get him nowhere. He needs to focus. 

And then a thought occurs. 

He strides past Lily, ignoring the worried calls that trail behind him. He reaches below deck, storming into the chart room and begins rifling through the papers scattered on the center table, no doubt creating an even bigger mess as parchment and inkwells fall to the floor. Finally, the  Marauder's Map emerges from the pile. He surveys Beauxbaton’s port, locking in on one ship nearly out of the bay and heading south towards Slytherin. 

The Death Eater. 

Chapter Text

UPON laying eyes on his collapsed form, his first assumption is that the prince is dead. 

The boy is cramped into the smallest compartment of the ship’s hold, chained to the wall, and dosed on some strange concoction procured in Diagon Alley. Whatever Riddle had given him is strong enough to keep Regulus’ breathing shallow and Barty in suspense as to whether the prince will succumb to respiratory arrest under their supervision. 

He and Evan watch over their new guest under the strict instructions of keeping him alive, chained, and drugged. Barty absentmindedly twirls the vial of rich burgundy liquid, scrutinizing the prince’s slacken face. Head lolled to the side, lips parted, lashes casting dramatic spindly shadows across the apples of his cheeks. 

It’s like a twisted version of sleeping beauty . 

“What do you think they gave him?” He mumbles. The contents of the vial swishes back and forth with each flick of his fingers. Three drops by mouth. No more, no less. 

Evan looks up from his place leaning against the far wall. He shrugs at the question, dark blonde brows raised in indifference. 

Evidently, his curiosity —or lack there of-– isn’t eating away at him like it is Barty.

Uncorking the vial, he holds the open tube below his nose and inhales, the faint turpentine smell wafting through his nostrils. 

Maybe – 

The vial is promptly plucked from his hand. 

Buzzkill . 

Evan’s chastising him but it fades into the background as he mulls it over. Is it poison? A simple sedative? Why would the prince need it when he’s already chained up? Barty notes his delicate features and lithe stature. Would he actually pose the risk of breaking out? Overpowering whoever’s taking watch without a weapon? To Barty, drugging the boy seems overkill. But if he’s learned anything, it’s that Riddle wouldn’t overestimate someone to such an extent. This is a case of precaution not paranoia. 

“Fucking hell, Bee. Are you listening?” Evan’s annoyed tone filters back through his consciousness. 

“Yes.” He voices back flatly. “Don’t ingest unknown vials of liquid. Yadda yadda, potentially poisonous, blah blah blah. I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” He groans. 

Evan regards him with an unimpressed look because they both know the truth. 

He absolutely would do it. 

Worst case scenario, he’d be in a similar state to the prince. Best case scenario, he’d have the trip of a lifetime. 

The sound of heavy chains dragging across the splintered floor steals both their attention. The prince is shifting, eyes flitting rapidly behind closed veiny lids. A few minutes of him fighting for wakefulness pass before bleary green eyes blink open, gaze half lidded and unfocused. 

“Siri?” is the first thing he croaks out, voice rough from disuse and dehydration. 

“Nope.” Evan replies, kicking off the wall and striding towards his hunched over form. He crouches down, pinching the boy’s chin between his fingers to tilt the prince’s head up. He flicks open the vial, tilting it so drops of blood red slip pasts parted lips. 

The effect is immediate. Regulus’ pupils dilate, black eclipsing thyme colored irises. His body relaxes, sinking further into the floor as if his limbs are weighed down by lead. 

“Still with us, princess?” Barty questions. Regulus’ head swivels to look in his direction, a whine slipping through pouty lips. 

When his eyelids slip shut Barty realizes he won’t be getting much information out of the prince as long as he’s in such a state. 

He makes a mental note to talk to Ev about skipping the next dose. 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

The first thing he notices upon waking up is the conspicuous disconnect to his powers. For as long as he can remember, he’s always been in tune with the water around him as if it were a sixth sense. Always aware of where it is, how its energy moves, its strength, how it can be manipulated. He feels the tides just as he feels his own heartbeat. Maybe it’s not always at the forefront of his mind, but if he tunes in with his own body, it’s always present. 

The fact that he can’t feel it at all right now is as disconcerting as suddenly losing his sight or hearing.  

“Sleeping beauty finally wakes.” Regulus jolts in response to the raspy timbre. A man, lean with wild, chestnut colored waves spilling over hazel eyes slinks closer. His sharp gaze catalogues every reaction and movement, as if dissecting Regulus and examining his entrails with morbid fascination. “Feeling queasy?”

“Don’t jinx it Bee. He already looks like he’s about to be sick.” The second voice is huskier and sounds from behind him. “ I don’t want to be stuck cleaning up vomit.”  

“He’s gone two days without anything in his system. There’s not much in his stomach for him to chuck up anyway— you’re so dramatic Ev.”

Regulus’ head is reeling as the two bicker back and forth. He tries to keep a calm facade while in their presence but the gravity of the situation makes it near impossible. 

The man referred to as ‘Bee’ notices first, cocking his head to the side and stalking closer, chin tilted down and shoulders stiff. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, doll?” 

He needs to get back to the crew. 

Back to James.

Back to Siri. 

With each question he throws at the two strangers before him, he’s met with Ev’s silence and Bee’s deflection. 

Where is he? Aboard a ship . Are they with Riddle? Silence. Where are they taking him? Nothing . 

It’s infuriating. 

The two boys are close to his age and don’t seem as inclined to cruelty like the rest of Riddle’s entourage so at the very least, he doesn’t have a reason to be fearful of their presence. 

On the downside, they’re obnoxious. 

Eventually he grows tired of the senseless back and forth, but Bee doesn’t allow the conversation to drop just yet. 

“Now that all your questions are answered—” 

“You didn’t answer shit–” 

“ —what exactly is this?” Barty needles while fishing out a small glass vial with a viscous maroon liquid. 

“Piss in a bottle? Your guess is as good as mine. Why are you asking me?” At this point, Regulus is fed up with their antics. 

“ Testy… ” Ev drawls. 

“If your piss looks anything like this, we’re gonna have to get a medic aboard the ship.” Bee sasses at the same time. 

Regulus is about to show them testy when a bell rings above deck, summoning the two sailors and leaving Regulus alone once more.  

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

“Welcome back, assholes.” He drones out. Barty and Evan, as he’s learned are their actual names, have been stopping by once a day. Usually to bring him food and water. Sometimes just to talk at him. Somehow, over the past couple of days he’s come to look forward to their little visits. It’s the only thing breaking the monotony of his day to day and keeping him distracted from the sheer anxiety of his impending doom. 

All things considered, they’re not the worst. Unbeknownst to Riddle, they’ve stopped giving him whatever that red elixir was, and since it passed through his system he’s been able to feel the hum of his powers again (comforting but ultimately unhelpful in his current position). The iron shackles still burn his skin but Evan brings an ointment every so often that soothes the sores they leave around his wrist. 

Maybe it’s just a case of Stockholm syndrome but he really does think being a hostage could be significantly worse. 

He’s laying on his back, staring up on his ceiling but the lack of greeting as the steps come closer has him feeling uneasy. He sits up, whipping his head around to face them, a snarky comment about how rude it is to ignore people when they talk to you at the ready but the words get caught in his throat when he realizes who’s in the room with him. 

“Such ugly words for someone of your social standing, Regulus.” Despite the time spent aboard his ship, Regulus has yet to see Riddle until now. The admiral takes measured steps, the echoing click of his heels like a countdown to catastrophe. 

“Such impudence from someone of your ranking, Tom . Don’t you know it’s insolent to refer to a royal by anything but their title.” He sneers back. Riddle bristles at the use of his first name but quickly recovers from the slip up by the time he’s a few paces away from Regulus, forcing the younger to tilt his head up to keep eye-contact with him.  

“You’ve been away from home for a long time, your highness .” His cadence is just as unhurried as his stride, allowing the words to settle between them. Regulus has zero intentions of entertaining this conversation and Riddle doesn’t particularly seem to care whether or not he bothers with responding. In fact, the other appears to be more keen on studying his behavior. When carmine colored eyes settle on the irritated skin of his wrist Regulus shifts uncomfortably, unable to hide the injury from the icy stare. A chill crawls down his spine as he watches an eerie grin creep across the admiral’s thin lips. 

Riddle doesn’t say much more, nor does he share the reasoning behind the self satisfied smile when he finally departs from the room. 

₊‧.°.⋆⚔⋆.°.₊

“He’s interesting.” Barty mentions off handedly for the nth time since last checking on Regulus. The other has always been like this. Hyper Fixating on certain things — certain people — that keep his finicky attention span engrossed for longer than a few seconds. 

The prince happens to be all sorts of fascinating. From his situation, to his disposition, to his looks. Evan’s not surprised by Barty’s sudden attachment to the boy. 

What he is surprised by is the odd sort of kinship they’ve managed to form during the span of Regulus’ captivity. It’s been a few weeks since they’ve kidnapped acquainted themselves with the prince’s company and somewhere along the way, it seems Regulus’ feelings of distrust gave way to begrudging endearment. Not that Evan could ever imagine the boy admitting it. 

They enter the hold to find Regulus in his usual spot chained to the wall, looking particularly pissed off. 

“Where the hell have you two been?” He asks, every bit the haughty, entitled prince Evan had initially expected him to be. Evan finds it a little heart touching that he missed their company.  Even if out of boredom. 

Barty sports a wild grin on his face upon hearing the other’s vexed inflection. “Not all of us can sit about all day y’know.” He responds while making his way over to throw himself onto the floor besides Regulus. 

“If that’s how you truly feel, by all means, go ahead and let me out.” He snarks back. Barty locks eyes with Evan, raising a questioning brow. 

Here’s the thing: the two of them have discussed getting Regulus out of here. Evan wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of becoming a murderer —queen’s orders or not— and now that they’ve formed an odd sort of friendship with the other boy, despite the strange circumstances, the idea of following through with their plan (which was never truly concrete to begin with) or abandoning him to Riddle’s devices is no longer an option. 

“Actually…” Evan voices, slowly approaching the other two in the room and settling before them in a squat. Despite the ruckus going on above deck, he keeps his voice low. “We have something to tell you…” At this, Regulus perks up. 

Evan takes a steadying breath.

It’s now or never . 

It’s strangely cathartic finally telling him everything. The lack of surprise when he discloses the queen’s orders to have the princes killed is unsettling to say the least but it does ease the heavy weight of guilt that has been residing over Evan’s conscience for the past couple weeks. In turn, Regulus discloses what happened the night of the king’s death. What his father had been planning to do. What Riddle had been helping him with. 

Regulus’ status as a halfling, though shocking, actually clears up a lot too. In this day and age, faeries are mostly only alive in legend and superstition. Beings that have been hunted near the point of extinction. Evan never would have thought he’d come across one in his lifetime but it explains why Riddle was adamant that the chains cuffing the boy’s wrist were made of iron. Why he insisted Regulus be given the contents within that vial every day. When he’d first smelled the tincture, Barty had hypothesized that the content was St. John's Wort but had then raved about how despite the concentration, it shouldn’t have a sedative effect on humans. Now, Regulus’ reaction to the extract makes perfect sense. 

A heavy silence shrouds the trio as they take in the new information. Regulus is contemplative and Barty continues to fidget beside them, a deep furrow between his brows that Evan rarely ever sees. 

Eventually the fidgeting stops, but the puzzled expression remains. “If the queen is going behind Riddle’s back to have you killed… she clearly doesn’t want you brought back to Slytherin alive.” 

Regulus frowns. “No shit Barty. That’s the whole point.”

“But if Riddle wants control of the throne, he’d have more credibility returning the heir. Not just you.”

Now that Barty mentions it, Evan did find it odd that Riddle was willing to set sail so quickly once Regulus was captured. He didn’t even stay long enough to properly search for Sirius. If Evan were in his position, he would have at least questioned Regulus for the whereabouts of his brother. 

“Maybe he’ll just say Sirius died,” he mentions with a shrug, “that’d make Regulus next in line. And it’s less work on his end.” The brunette shakes his head at the suggestion. 

“And take the risk of Sirius still running around alive and well? Risk Regulus rebelling? No. The queen had the right idea. If the both of them aren’t out of the picture, at least one needs to be dead or both alive with one held hostage for insurance in case the brother he’s trying to manipulate starts acting out. Taking just Regulus doesn’t make sense unless he’s stupid.” And all three of them know, Riddle isn’t stupid. 

A sharp inhale draws their attention towards Regulus. All the blood has drains from his face. Evan hasn’t seen him look this ill since he’d first arrived aboard the Death Eater. 

When Regulus’ eyes meet his own, his pupils are slightly dilated. There's a rush of footsteps above deck accompanied by shouts and the bell ringing but Evan is zeroed in on the words the prince whispers as the door to the hold bangs open.  

₊‧.°.⋆☠︎︎⋆.°.₊

The horcrux . 

The unsettling words Regulus left them with unfortunately aligns with the conclusions Barty had come to. Based on what he shared with them, the king never divulged information regarding Regulus’ status but it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume the admiral had pieced things together on his own. If Riddle is taking over the late king’s plans, his reasons for keeping Regulus alive make much more sense. Riddle is after Slytherin's locket, not just the throne. Though he can’t comprehend why someone would ever crave living forever, Riddle is the exact flavor of crazy which would be tempted by the idea of immortality. 

Barty is jolted from his train of thought as he and Evan finally emerge onto the chaos of the main deck. Lestrange had stormed downstairs, urging them to aid the rest of the crew as all hands were needed on deck. 

What Lestrange most definitely fails to mention during his rushed explanation is the giant fucking dolphin currently thrashing against the wooden planks in a barbed net. Riddle is stalking around the fiasco, sword in hand, and eyes calculating as they rake over the poor creature. The rest of the crew struggles to hold the net down to keep the thing pinned. 

“You called us up here to fight a porpoise? Just throw it back in the water.” Lestrange doesn’t bother sticking around long enough to answer him, already rushing forward to help the others. What he plans to contribute to their endeavor? Barty can’t say. The man is useless on his best days and a hindrance on his worst. 

Evan places a hand on his shoulder but when Barty tilts his head to face him, the other is staring ahead at the scene before him with an odd transfixed expression. 

“Bee, that’s not a porpoise.” He breathes out. Barty is about to argue with him, because it’s far too large to be a fish and too small to be a shark but when he throws the creature a second glance he realizes that it is in fact not a dolphin. The tail is long and slender with iridescent ivory scales that catch the sunlight in a crystalline shimmer. The fins are delicate and almost see through. However, the clear indicator that Barty’s first assumption is wrong would definitely have to be the human body making up its upper half. 

What the fuck. 

Eventually Riddle starts shouting orders, telling them to ‘bind and gag the sea witch’. The death eaters are all too eager to follow his instruction, releasing her from the net and manhandling her as they wrap her arms in heavy rope that leaves her pale skin an angry red. Dolohov shoves a piece of cloth between her teeth and secures it with a knot at the back of her head. 

The whole scene makes Barty sick. 

Evan looks nauseous besides him, clearly just as upset but quickly masks it when Riddle turns to face the crew. 

“Throw it in the hold with the other creature.” 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

 Regulus wakes to a resounding thud as the door of the hold slams hard against the wall with the force with which it was kicked open. Rabastan Lestrange’s silhouette is outlined in the doorway but what mainly catches the attention of Regulus’ sleep-addled brain is the figure he’s holding.  Rabastan drops the tied up figure beside him. Up close, it’s now obvious that Lestrange had been carrying a girl. Well…a mermaid, but a girl nonetheless. She has wavy, platinum hair and dreamy pale blue eyes that stay locked in on Rabastan in fear. 

“Well would you look at that,” Rabastan coos, “two pretty canaries locked in a cage.” The girl beside him starts to drag herself backwards, pressing up against the wall to put as much space between herself and the sailor as possible. Rabastan takes a measured step forward to try and close the gap but Regulus blocks him, placing his body between them. The bastard just laughs at his effort. “And what’s this? Feeling jealous all of a sudden baby Black?” Rabastan crouches down and grabs Regulus’ jaw, forcing the boy to lean up into his hold until they’re sharing the same air. “Don’t worry love, she’s quite pretty but you’ll always be my favorite.” 

Regulus spits in the man's face. 

Well worth the backhand he receives in response. 

There’s a cruel curl of his lip as Lestrange wipes the spit away from his face. He leers at Regulus as he rises back to his feet, stepping even closer forcing him back against the wall as well. “Y’know baby Black,” he growls, “big brother isn’t here to protect you now.” Another step forward. “I think it’s in your best interest to start treating me with a little respect.” 

He feels the girl shaking in fear beside him from where their shoulders are pressed together. Maybe that’s why Regulus keeps up the courageous front and continues to stare the other man down in defiance. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius always found the strength to be brave; because Regulus was always petrified for the both of them. 

He’s mentally bracing himself for whatever it is Lestrange is about to do in retaliation when the door swings open again. A long exhale leaves his body, releasing the tension as Barty and Evan waltz into the room. Evan’s eyes flicker between them, eventually narrowing at Rabastan with a cold glare that catches Regulus off guard for a second. Barty on the other hand is all charm and warm smiles as he makes his way over to the group. He clasp Rabastan on the back before settling his hand on the back of his nape in a tight grip that causes the man to wince. 

“Bastan! Funny seeing you here!” Barty’s voice is nothing but chipper but the crazed gleam behind those hazel eyes is a warning. He leans in closer to Rabastan, tightening his grip, and dropping his tone into something low and dangerous. “But I think it’s in your best interest to go ahead and leave. Yeah?” Lestrange shoves himself away, stumbling as he sends a cautious glance Barty’s way. Once he exits the room, he and Evan come closer, checking in on Regulus and removing the cloth gag from the girl’s mouth. 

Evan’s lips are pursed together in a firm line before he lets out a deep exhale and closes his eyes. 

“We need to get out of here.”

Chapter Text

WHEN her body is carelessly tossed onto the damp wooden planks, nothing registers but the debilitating fear coursing through her veins. A cancerous trepidation that infests her thoughts and metastasizes through her psyche. 

The men who force her onto their ship live up to every horrific, cautionary tale that plagued her childhood. 

Listen well and learn little ones. Never swim near the surface alone. The landwalkers are not like us. 

Once they take you, it’s impossible to find your way back home. 

Cease this nonsense, Dora. They are sadistic creatures. It’s impossible to befriend something that lacks kindness. Lacks empathy. 

Xeno has been gone since last moonrise. Scammander says he saw when they stole him from our waters— 

The skin of her wrists chafe as she frantically pulls at her restraints while scooting back against the wall, trying to create some distance between herself and her captor. Muffled sobs of distress bleed through the cloth covering her mouth and her inability to use her voice only makes her cry harder. 

She prays to Selene, pleading with the goddess to bring her back to safety. 

But then another body is in front of her, obstructing her line of sight, and preventing the man from closing in on her huddled form. 

Though his back is to her, she can still make out some of his features. Loose midnight curls. Luminescent skin, nearly as pale as her own. The tips of pointed ears. 

Not human. 

An ease washes over her. Not because she’s naive enough to believe herself saved, but because there's comfort in company.  

Despite being in a similar position to herself, he shields her. Even after being struck hard for his efforts, he remains beside her amidst the chaos as more people flood into the holding cell. 

Suddenly, deep brown eyes obstruct her line of sight, breaking her out of her reverie. Another face comes into focus, all sun kissed skin, blond wind tousled hair, and chiseled features.  She’s weary as he leans into her space, instinctively recoiling from the body before her, but then he does something unexpected. Pandora’s rope bindings are loosened until they slip away. The cloth gag is untied, and she’s able to take her first full breath of air since being thrown aboard. 

When she finally speaks  there’s an unfamiliar rasp, discordant to the harmonic lilt associated with her kind. Despite that, she knows how the boy perceives her. 

Enlarged pupils.

Pointed nails that closer resemble claws. 

Sharp canines. 

The glimmer of faded scales scattered throughout her upper body that shine when the light hits her skin just right. 

All signs indicating a predator. 

“You’re not scared?” She knows at this point, escaping the ship is near impossible on her own. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s still dangerous. For a siren, two isolated humans are still easy prey. 

“I am,” he answers in a low voice, nimble fingers detangling her from the coarse netting, “but I know you’re just as scared of me so this is only fair.” He finishes with a quiet grin, immediately stepping back to give her space once his task is done. 

odd . 

Pandora passively listens to the back and forth between the other three in the room. Scheming whispers of mutiny echo throughout the small space. 

It’s interesting how the three of them interact with one another. Teasing and affectionate. Barty hangs off the other two, long limbs sprawled across their personal space, and though Regulus scowls at the contact he never pushes the boy off. Half the time he subtly leans into the casual touches but no one points it out. Just as no one points out the twinkle in his eyes when Evan entertains his sarcasm with his own quips.

Most fascinating is how the two humans are around each other. It’s the way Evan’s gaze always zeroes in on Barty, and Barty always locks onto Evan’s words with rapt attention. They greedily take the other in, savoring the moment and coveting the memory as if it’ll slip away once they’re not paying attention. When they focus on each other it's as if no one else exist within the room in that moment. 

By the time their little meeting disperses, she’s disappointed she can’t observe the group any longer. 

As much as her family tried to stifle her curiosity, she’s always been intrigued by humans. Sirens are predominantly solitary creatures once they reach adulthood. She herself has already been swimming on her own for over a hundred moon cycles. Humans on the other hand, congregate. They thrive on socializing with one another and their lives seem to shine so much brighter because of it. The notion of keeping friends, lovers, and families throughout an entire lifetime is a foreign concept to her kind. 

If humans truly lack empathy like she was taught, how is it that they can feel connection to one another so deeply? 

She would often swim near coastal towns, observing this strange phenomena, every so often thinking she was meant to be among the townsfolk. That she was meant to belong. 

Perhaps it’s fate that compels this infatuation. 

Likely it’s just her loneliness. 

⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆

Days have passed and Pandora has become accustomed to a routine of sorts. 

Every night, Barty and Evan sneak below deck to untie Pandora’s binds, always waiting for her to nod in consent before approaching closer. She gets the chance to fully stretch out for a few hours before being loosely re-tied to avoid suspicion. Regulus isn’t allowed the same luxury. The captain is the only man holding the key to his chains. 

All the while, the boys continue discussion of their plan to escape the Death Eater. She still hasn’t uttered a word to them since that first exchange with Evan, and she tries not to get too invested in their conversation when it turns casual. She’s happy that they’ll be free of Riddle’s clutches and that they're kind enough to include her but she doesn’t want to think of the fact that once they’re out, she’ll be on her own again. She doesn’t want to get close to them just to part ways in the end. 

From the time Barty and Evan retire for the night to the following afternoon, they’re left alone in silence, the only exception being when a member of the crew provides them their rations, often accompanied by taunts and vulgar commentary. 

At one point, the scales of her tail begin to dry out, her skin cracking apart with the slightest movement. When the pain becomes unbearable she shifts into her land form. It hurts…splitting her tail and forming legs, but if she’s to be out of the water for this long it’s necessary. Even so, the unfamiliar body brings just as much discomfort as it does relief. Her skin feels too soft. Too exposed. 

Regulus thankfully doesn’t comment, he simply tears off his black cloak and silently offers it to her. 

She’s beyond thankful for the fabric when Rabastan next comes down with their daily provisions. 

Another few days pass before there’s a change in her routine. 

Despite her continued silence, Regulus starts to talk. 

It starts small. A simple good morning. Quiet offers of his leftover food. Whispered check-ins to ensure she’s doing alright. Always answered with nothing more than a small smile or a nod. It isn’t much, but each word lights up her day. 

Eventually, she musters the courage to respond. Hesitant questions and brief acknowledgments escalate into conversations and stories. Most times he shares details about his life aboard the Valkyrie. She eagerly listens to anecdotes about a mischievous crew that sailed all throughout the kingdoms, plundering the estates of the elite whilst raiding wealthy merchant ships. 

Regulus’ voice always softens when a story revolves around his brother, Sirius. Just as his eyes always light up when he shares tales of one pirate in particular. 

Teasing him about this Jamie character becomes one of her favorite pastimes. Part of her is compelled to gush to him about her own ‘Jamie’, but everytime a story comes to the tip of her tongue the heartbreak makes her swallow it back down. Regulus never explicitly labels his relationship with the pirate but Pandora sees the way he practically melts when his pirate is the center of discussion. 

He’s in love. 

She’s sure of it. His behavior is as familiar as her own reflection from years ago.

And as more time passes, her heart cracks just a little more when his stories sound less like shared pieces of his life and more like desperate reminders to himself to keep from forgetting. 

₊‧.°.⋆⚔⋆.°.₊

Evan is one minor inconvenience away from torching the ship. 

Lucius has been peacocking around ever since Riddle elevated his position for being ‘such a loyal follower’ (mind you, he has the exact same duties as before, just under a different name). Dolohov and Yaxley have been particularly grating on his nerves and he can’t quite pinpoint a reason as to why other than that prolonged exposure to their idiocy wears down the soul. As for Rudolphus, well… he has his own slew of issues but Evan thinks based on his relation to his brother alone, he deserves to be put down. 

Rabastan, the creepy little pervert that he is, never should have been born to begin with. 

That being said, he takes it upon himself to declare that their plan is just about as good as it’s gonna get and they should leave now or just accept that they’ll probably die trying. 

“Who shit in his coffee this morning?” Regulus grumbles to Barty who shrugs his shoulders as if he doesn’t listen to Evan complain about the Death Eaters every night. 

“As enchanting as that sounds, Ev,” the brunette drawls, “we can’t go anywhere until we get the key for dear ol’ Reginald here.” Barty is harshly pushed off Regulus’ shoulder for the rather unfortunate nickname but the action just causes the boy to devolve into hysterical cackles. 

“He’s right though,” Regulus agrees while waving his chained hands in front of him, “I’m not exactly going anywhere with these on.” 

Evan deflates and sinks down to the ground, completing the little circle their group has formed. “Alright, review! By tomorrow night we should be a few miles out from Slytherin’s coast. Barty and I have already stowed away some rations and supplies in one of the lifeboats. Once it’s dark, we’ll be down here at our usual time to get you both out and sneak above deck. After reaching the boat, and cutting it into the water it’ll be Reg’s job to use his lil magic trick to propel us towards the coast before daybreak. From there, we sneak into the nearest town, get our shit together and figure out how to get to Gryffindor.” He directs his attention to Regulus. “You said you had connections in Hogsmeade?” Regulus slowly nods before chiming in. 

“Jamie’s parents own a shop in town. The Valkyrie’s stop by frequently enough that we’d have to run into them eventually. Captain Evans will definitely be willing to take you all in!” Regulus was practically vibrating at the prospect of reuniting with his crew. “Especially if Barty manages to pull the facade of being a normal person and you get rid of your resting bitch face.” He finishes with a cheshire grin. 

Fucking rude. 

“Which brings us to our next point,” Barty tacks on, “do you plan on staying with us, deary?” Everyone’s gaze swivels to face Pandora whose eyes widen in shock. She opens and closes her mouth as she works through her response. What she settles on tugs at Evan’s heartstrings. 

“You’d let me stay with you?” Her voice cracks half way through and her eyes start to shine with tears that threaten to spill over. Evan still doesn’t know much about her life before being brought aboard the ship. Initially she was quite reserved around them. Wouldn’t even speak. But eventually she started to open up, especially to Regulus. In the weeks they’ve spent together he’s managed to catch glimpses of her true self and that’s been enough to gain his trust and hopefully a friendship given more time.  

“Of course she’s staying with us.” Regulus grabs her hand and squeezes. She never flinches when it’s Regulus. Pandora squeezes his hand back and nods excitedly in agreement. 

“Well that's just touching.” Barty coos as he leans in and pinches Regulus’ cheek. “Back to the big issue though! How the fuck are we gonna get him out of here?” 

Shit… 

The thing is, the locks on the shackles around Regulus’ wrist are too intricate to be picked and Riddle is the only one with access to the keys. 

“I guess we’re gonna have to break into the captain’s cabin.” 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

Barty and Evan are late. 

They should have been back with the key hours ago . 

“Maybe they’re caught up with something else? It’s not the first time they’ve come down later than usual.” Pandora’s voice breaks through his spiraling thoughts. She’s not wrong. Sometime’s Riddle’s crew will have meetings on the main deck that run later than usual which stop Barty and Evan from sneaking below deck. And yet this time feels different. This is reminiscent of when he was pacing the length of his room in Grimmauld waiting for Sirius only to be summoned to his father’s study. 

And the gods know that was a disaster. 

He wants to believe that he’s just being paranoid. Sirius always said he was far more anxious than the average person. That not everyone obsesses over tiny details, picking them apart until they’ve worked themselves up into a panic. But when the door opens and Antonin Dolohov steps in, his heart drops. 

“Evening, canary.” Regulus bristles at the greeting. That stupid nickname the crew has taken to calling the both of them courtesy of Lestrange. From the corner of his eye he watches as Pandora jolts, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself. 

If Dolohov is here this late clearly something is wrong and he needs to be on high alert. 

Maybe Riddle’s decided to just kill them off now. 

Or the admiral has been usurped entirely and the crew has come to torture them as some sick form of entertainment. 

How is he gonna keep Pandora safe? 

Or himself? 

 He needs to make a plan. 

And where the fuck are Evan and Barty? 

Dolohov prowls forward, keeping his body in the way of the only exit. As he comes closer Regulus notices two things that are concerningly wrong, the main one being the keys dangling from his neck by a thin silver chain. The very keys Evan and Barty should have secured by now. The second thing his eyes are drawn to is the man’s grip around a vial of prussian blue liquid. 

He’s gonna have a fucking conniption. 

Dolohov stops before him and he registers that the man is talking– probably the same incessant nonsense he usually spews– but Regulus is focused on the small dagger the man has strapped to his forearm. 

Jamie only showed him how to do it once but it can’t be that hard, right? 

Before he knows it, Dolohov roughly grabs his face, wedging his thumb between Regulus’ teeth and keeping his jaw open. He scrambles, grabbing at Dolohov's wrist as if trying to throw him off. 

The clasp is undone. 

“Easy there,” the man croons, “we have an adventure planned for you today. Isn’t that exciting little fairy?” There’s a popping noise of a cork followed by three cool drops on his tongue. 

He bites down hard and soon the bitter aftertaste of the tincture is overshadowed by bold copper. 

Icy silver glides between his fingers.  

Dolohov yells and wrenches his hand away.   

The lift is smooth and quick. James would be proud of his newfound skill in being a pickpocket.

The edges of his vision start to blur. If Dolohov retaliates for the bite in any way he doesn’t know because all too soon unconsciousness claims him. 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

When he comes to, he’s on the saddest boat to ever exist. He never thought he’d describe a boat as sad but as he takes in the image of four grown men (not including himself) wedged together, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, just to fit on this shabby raft that’s creaking under their weight, there’s truly no other word he could use to describe it. 

Unfortunately as he draws his attention away from said boat, he’s forced to acknowledge that they're also in a creepy cave devoid of any warmth. The only light source stems from the torch Lucius holds high —and he’s practically preening as he does so, like it’s the most important task in the world— but if anything it just makes the cave seem more ominous. At least if it was completely devoid of light, he wouldn’t see the jagged stalactites hanging overhead just waiting to fall or the suspicious murkiness of the water and the eerie shadows that are cast across the cave walls, following them like a curse. He definitely wouldn’t see the little island of rock they're slowly approaching. For some reason that’s the part that brings him the most unease. 

The boat collides with the edge of the island with a thud that echoes across the space; the following silence heavy. One by one they file off the boat. Rabastan stumbles. It’s graceless and embarrassing and Regulus makes sure to snicker at him. His own motor skills are still impeded from being drugged again and his arms are tied behind his back yet he still manages to step off the boat without making a fool of himself. He's a prince after all. Although, as he walks forward the solid ground beneath his boots feels similar to the swaying of the boat which can’t be great… Riddle stands beside him, tightly gripping his upper arm, guiding his movements and leading the group to the island’s center.

Regulus has no expectations regarding this cheery little excursion he’s been forced on to. The tincture in his system has all rational thought slipping from his grasp and the floaty feeling leaves him very open minded. Ready to accept anything. Given all of that, he really isn’t anticipating an oversized crystal bowl in such a place but he supposes wherever a bowl of any kind may choose to reside is none of his business. There’s some sort of shimmering liquid in it and would you look at that! A matching cup. 

Actually, the little set looks gaudy enough to belong in Lucius’ manor. 

Another giggle slips past his lips but no one acknowledges him.

A sober Regulus would be losing his shit by now. Bless his heart. 

Riddle hisses Rabastan’s name, calling him forward. The man looks far too smug being chosen over the other two. 

Until he receives his orders. 

“Drink it.” Rabastan’s smirk immediately drops, eyes flitting back and forth between the bowl and the admiral as if trying to decipher whether or not the command is serious. 

Riddle stares him down with nothing but disdain, his thin lips curling into a scowl. 

Evidently he’s very serious.

Sirius would make a good joke out of that last thought. 

The first sip has Rabastan grimacing in pain. After one cup he’s begging to stop, clawing at his throat as if he can tear the searing pain from the outside. Dolohov is crouched beside him, force feeding him cup after cup as Lestrange’s writhing and pleading intensifies. Regulus’ focus shifts from the sight, eyes transfixed on a stalactite, periodically dripping melted ice into the still water. It doesn't even cause a ripple. 

When it’s done, Regulus is pulled forward, right besides the drained bowl. Riddle pulls out the ugliest necklace he’s ever seen from inside: far too clunky to be considered fashionable and the color too unflattering to be worn. Sirius could probably craft together a finer piece of jewelry with rocks and twine. Nevertheless, Riddle handles the atrocious statement piece with care, caressing the intricate snake engravement.

The man still hasn’t uttered a word which is kind of weird but Regulus isn’t about to complain over the lack of a villainous monologue. 

Rabastan is still having a freakout a few feet away, dramatically crawling to the island’s edge, uncaring of the cuts blooming across his skin from scraping the jagged rocks beneath them. 

Regulus wrinkles his nose as Lestrange reaches a cupped hand for the murky water—Malfoy and Dolohov are shit friends if they allow the man to drink from the surrounding reservoir. Fortunately, he doesn't end up ingesting any of it. Unfortunately, the second Rabastan breaches the lake’s surface, the water violently jolts and suddenly he’s being dragged forwards. 

The screams are blood curdling. Regulus doesn’t see what pulls Rabastan in, but as he thrashes to stay above the surface he watches his tunic become shredded linen stained with red. Malfoy and Dolohov are shouting, visibly distressed but unwilling to endanger themselves by helping. Soon it’s too late.

Regulus instinctively tries to back away from the scene, steps staggering and rigid. To his disappointment and growing concern, he doesn’t get far before Riddle is tightening his hold and shoving his body down onto the ground. His hands are still tied behind his back so he can’t even catch himself. 

The sharp sting in his forearm from the fall sets him over the edge. Today has been nothing but awful and he’s reached the point where he’s more pissed off than worried for his well being. He’s been drugged, dragged into a cave which appears to be a deathtrap, and he’s likely going to die surrounded by all of his least favorite people. If he somehow lives through this, he’s making it everybody’s problem.  

Riddle has the nerve to force him onto his back with a boot to the sternum, leaning his weight down until the pressure makes it difficult to breathe. The ceiling of the cave is swirling like ocean waves. When the necklace is dropped onto his chest Regulus’ brain finally catches up to speed. A hidden cave. A tacky necklace locket. A ritual .

He adds one more grievance to his list because it’s borderline infuriating that he’s going to lose his life giving Riddle what he wants. 

Maybe he’ll come back as a ghost and haunt him. 

“I’ll grant you a small mercy and use steel.” The man above him sneers.

He sets his chin high and stares down his nose at crimson eyes as Riddle raises his sword. 

₊‧.°.⋆☠︎︎⋆.°.₊

Barty haphazardly riffles through the drawers of Riddle’s desk, carelessly throwing irrelevant documents onto the floor. 

It’s been over an hour since the room’s door was slammed shut followed by the telltale clicking noise that let them know they’d been locked in. Of course Dolohov had to rub salt into the wound with that obnoxious laugh of his bleeding through the walls. 

Evan is searching the rest of the room as they scramble for something to pick the lock. So far they haven’t found anything small enough to fit into the keyhole further fraying his nerves. The ship stopped but based on his calculations, they shouldn’t have hit Slytherin’s port for another day or so if they continued at their normal speed. As far as he knows there shouldn’t be any land nearby, so where are they ? 

“Bee?” Evan calls. “Come look at this.” His voice is weary which is eminently out of character for the other. Even when Evan is unsure, he’s confident and presents himself as such. When he peers over his shoulder to see what’s caught his attention, he’s met with a small, leather bound journal full of pages upon pages of musings, research, speculations, maps and diagrams. Taking the journal into his own hands, he flips through the entries, each sounding more incoherent from the last as the writing becomes more and more illegible. 

Entry X. 

Writings of Surzain Slytherin claim his father’s locket remains on the land of their origin. 

Arrangements have been made to meet with Slytherin’s king in a month's time. 

Entry XXVI. 

Today Orion was particularly vocal about his discontent with his heir. After a few glasses he made several offhanded comments about outliving the lineage regardless. 

Ramblings of a drunken man or is Orion a bigger aspect of my goal than I thought?  Maybe a potential obstacle?

Entry XXX. 

Grimmuald’s library has an abundance of artifacts and original documents including a handful of tombs regarding the Salazar line. Based on the history perhaps it’s time to start doing research on the fae? (ref. ‘Immortalized Artifacts: The Dynasty of Salazar Slytherin’)

Entry IVII. 

ref. 'Slytherin a History and Government: appointing a monarch' 

Highlight— "in the case of an entire line of succession dying out, parliament is responsible for appointing a new reigning king."

NOTE: Schedule meeting with father of the house. Garner support and favor.  

Entry LVII.

Orion asked me to locate the locket today. The cave has already been found, but I've been unable to capture a faerie. Orion claims to have one already... 

Entry LVIII. 

The king is dead. There was extensive research regarding how to perform the ritual in his study. A journal of personal entries was found as well. Who’s Alara? 

Entry LIX. 

Imperative that the princes Regulus is found. 

From there, it’s a series of notes regarding what to expect in this supposed cave. The traps set in place, the creatures guarding the locket…

“You’re fucking joking.” He murmurs. “Corpses in the water?” Evan silently nods beside him, worrying at his bottom lip, but now isn’t the time for Barty to get distracted by that. 

“No wonder we stopped early. We thought he already had the locket in Slytherin but he’s taken us straight to the cave to retrieve it instead. This island isn’t even marked on our maps.”

Well, it’s good to know their plan would have been fucked regardless of if two of them got caught. Cheers. That’s some guilt off their shoulders.

Before he has the time to properly stew in that revelation, the doorknob starts to twist as if someone is trying to open it from the outside. He casts a sideways glance at Evan who’s immediately on the same page, drawing his sword and standing beside the door, ready to disarm whoever comes in. 

The door swings open and two figures storm in, their own swords drawn. 

 Barty would like to say they put up a decent fight. After all, they’re part of the king’s guard. Are they still called the king’s guard if there’s no king? Or if they’ve technically defected? With the extensive training they’ve been through to reach that position—that may no longer exist—they should be able to hold their own against anyone. 

His back hits the floor in less than ten seconds. A girl with shaggy, dirty blonde hair holds a sword against his neck. Based on the clattering sound of another sword hitting the ground and no one coming to his aid, he assumes Evan must be in a similar position to himself. 

The girl holding a blade to his throat raises a brow, scanning his features with little interest. “Where's Regulus?” She demands. 

Well this isn’t confusing at all.

Chapter Text

HER hands won’t stop shaking as she struggles to cut at the bindings around her wrists. Sweat is beginning to bead around her temple as her panic rises, hands cramping from the odd angle. 

They took Regulus . 

Dragged him out of the room limp, pale, and unconscious.

The first rope is severed with a snap and she nearly sobs in relief. She needs to escape. Figure out where her friends disappeared to, because Evan and Barty are still nowhere to be seen. She’s fairly certain that isn’t what Regulus intended when he slipped her the dagger. The look he gave her before his eyes rolled back was clear as day. Save yourself . 

Another rope snaps, freeing her arms. She can’t just leave without trying to help them. They were willing to risk so much in order to save her when they didn’t have to. Made such an effort to befriend her and make her feel safe. She won’t just abandon them. She’s halfway through cutting the rope tying her legs when she hears the tell tale creaks of someone walking down the stairs. Her forearms burn as she picks up the pace.

Another creak. 

A protesting groan from the loose plywood before the door. 

She finally cuts herself free from the last of the rope. Jolting up from the floor, she scrambles to figure out what to do now. The space is scarce of any reliable hiding spots, she can’t use her song now that she’s shifted into her land form, and she’s not going to delude herself into thinking she can win any sort of physical altercation against a man twice her size. 

The rattling of the door knob twisting forces her to make a decision. 

She tightens her hold on the dagger and stands beside the door frame, taking a steadying breath.

Hopefully the element of surprise gives her the upper hand. 

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Lily holds her sword close to her chest as she eases her way down the aged wooden steps. When they’d reached the island, she made the executive decision to have everyone split up to find Regulus. If it were up to James and Sirius, their entire crew would have charged onto the Death Eater, swords drawn and pistols blazing. While she wholeheartedly understands their urgency, acting on emotions while they’re running high will only end in disaster. For as long as Regulus’ life is at stake, they need to handle the situation with caution. With multiple teams searching and one team guarding the Valkyrie, they can cover all their bases. 

She presses herself up against the door, listening for movement in the ship’s hold. Upon being met by silence, she twists the knob, taking a step into the dark space and scanning her surroundings.

Before she can tread deeper into the room, a body slams into her side with enough momentum to have her pinned against the wall. She winces as an aching pain blooms at the back of her head from the impact. Lily’s able to get her bearings in time to catch the wrist that holds a knife to her throat but it takes another moment for her eyes to fully adjust to the dim lighting and process who her attacker is. When they finally do, the sight before her has her breath catching in her throat. 

She’d recognize those dusty blue eyes anywhere. 

Lily loosens her grip on the other girl's wrist, allowing the cold blade to kiss her throat. Maybe not the smartest thing to do in regards to her own safety but that's the least of her concerns at the moment. Pandora’s entire body is pressed against her own, practically vibrating with how tense she is. Lily has to crane her neck down in order to properly look at the other, short as she is, which is a mistake because now she can see the rapid rise and fall of her pale chest which is only partially covered by the black velvety cloak. Lily’s brain promptly short circuits when she realizes that's the only thing Pandora is wearing. She’s so caught up in this frankly earth shattering revelation that she doesn’t even notice the knife falling away from her throat. 

“Lily?” Gods she’s missed that voice.   

For a moment she worries that she’s lost her mind because the second Pandora steps back taking all her warmth with her, she misses the cold bite of the knife. 

“It’s good to see you again, lovely.” She whispers back. And because she’s apparently lost all of her inhibitions, she raises her hand, trailing her fingertips along the delicate curve of Pandora’s cheekbone—now dusted rosy pink—taking in every slight change of the features she’d committed to memory years ago. Pandora is the kind of beauty depicted in renaissance paintings. She’s the imagery poets try to encapsulate with flowery words. A work of art that Lily would marvel at everyday if the universe allowed it.  

A loud noise above deck pulls her back to the present. Pandora whips her head to the side, gazing out the open door and up the stairwell. Now that there’s more space between them, Lily can think clearly once again. She’s a little ashamed that the most pertinent thing on her mind is who’s cloak the girl is wearing. Clearly, it’s the only article of clothing she has on at the moment so did someone see her before lending the cloak? And since when does Pandora have legs?

Not that the legs aren’t as perfect as the rest of her—

She silently reprimands herself. A cloak and some flashes of skin should not take precedence in this situation and yet it remains at the forefront of her mind. 

“Lily? Lily!” Pandora is stepping closer once again. She's so lovely. “You have to help me! Please help.” Her breathing is coming out even more frantic than it was before. “My friend—Regulus—I need to find him.” 

Wait. Regulus?

“You know Regulus?” she sputters. The siren is nodding, now pulling at her arm, urging Lily out of the room. They make their way back up the steps as Pandora quickly explains what’s going on. Frankly, Lily’s having a difficult time following. Apparently the other girl has been held captive alongside Regulus who was just recently taken elsewhere. There’s also two members aboard the ship who have been helping them with a plot to escape. Barry and Ethan? Or was it Batty and Edvin? As they reach the top of the stairs, Lily scans the main deck, only catching sight of a handful of Death Eaters scattered about, still seemingly unaware that their ship has been infiltrated. The Valkyrie is anchored on the other side of the island, hidden from view (an accomplishment thanks to Remus’ map). What Lily really wants to do is take Pandora back to her ship and hide her away somewhere safe but the girl is adamant in helping to find her friends. Lily takes a breath, knowing Pandora is too stubborn to drop it. “Alright,” she whispers, “let's meet up with the others searching above deck. They might’ve already found him while I was checking the lower levels of the ship.” Pandora agrees with the plan, worrying at her bottom lip but setting her shoulders back in determination. 

Lily cradles the girl’s hand, keeping her close as they make their way to the captain’s cabins. 

₊‧.°.⋆☠︎︎⋆.°.₊ 

“Okay so to clear things up,” Barty dramatically motions to the two girls in the room, “ you all are part of the Valkyrie.” The taller one (who’d managed to throw Ev on his ass) nods along, arms crossed defensively in front of her chest but at least she no longer has a weapon in hand. “And you came to save our little Reggiekins,” a snicker from the blonde, “only to come across me and my lovely boyfriend here.” He finishes, pointing between himself and Evan to conclude his point. 

“That’s about right, yeah.” 

Hmm. 

“Well lucky for you two, we’re also looking for Reg and we know where they took him so feel free to tag along.” He goes to grab his sword from where it had clattered to the floor earlier but he’s promptly cut off as the pirate blocks his path. Russet brown eyes narrow as she sizes him up. 

“You still haven’t explained who you are. Why should we trust you?” She coaxes. 

“Ah yes, forgive my manners, they must’ve slipped my mind after you threatened me with that giant sword of yours—no innuendo intended.” He can already tell by the way her companion is glowering at him that he should probably stop the needling but at the end of the day, warning signs are just suggestions. “My name is Barty. Twenty years old. Six feet. Self proclaimed genius. Riddled with boyish charm. Slutty waist. Huge dic–” before he can finish Evan coughs loudly, giving him a pointed look. Right. Back on track. “That’s Evan. He’s taken .” From there he delves into a succinct version of the absolute chaos that has been their lives for most of this past year. From their original roles as the king’s guard, to the hit mission courtesy of the queen, to befriending a prickly prince and a sweet siren. 

“Anyway, that’s us. Based on Regulus’ stories I’m assuming you’re Marlene,” He sets his eyes on the blond before turning to the girl with onyx goddess braids, “and you’re Dorcas. Correct?” Both of them appear stunned by the deduction. As if it was difficult to figure out. Based on how they interact and read each other they’re clearly together and Regulus only mentioned one couple aside from his brother and the sailing master. From there it was pretty easy to label the short spitfire as Marlene and the intimidating one as Dorcas. 

The couple seem to have a silent conversation with one another before coming to a decision. Dorcas steps forward, offering a hand to Evan who’s still on the floor, and pulls him to his feet. Marlene swoops down, picking up Barty’s sword and handing it off to him with a smirk. “Welcome to the rescue mission boys.” 

Barty barely has a grasp on the hilt when the cabin door swings open once again revealing a woman with fiery red hair. She strides into the room, twirling her sword before tucking it back into the sheath strapped to her side and settling her hands on her hips. “Well shit guys. You haven’t found Regulus either?” Copper eyebrows scrunch together in concern before one raises as she meets eyes with Evan. “Who are you?” 

Before he or Evan can explain themselves again , a head of tousled blond hair pokes into the room. “Is it safe to go inside, Lily?” Pandora’s voice chimes. Singsongy and light as always but Barty can see by the way she holds herself that she’s anxious. Lily turns her head, facing the girl and her expression immediately softens as she extends a hand for Pandora to join them. That’s interesting . It’s even more interesting when Lily’s mouth settles into a scowl as Pandora drops her hand to fling herself at Barty and Evan, wrapping them in a tight hug. When she pulls back, she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet talking excitedly about how happy she is that they’re safe. 

Evan claps his hands together once, gathering the group’s attention. Getting everyone back on track. He gets the girls caught up to speed, showing them the little black journal with Tom Marvolo Riddle inscribed onto the front. From there Lily takes over, brainstorming a plan. Apparently, she already sent a team of people into the cave so Lily and Pandora will head back to the Valkyrie to inform the others about the change in plans and prepare the ship for a quick escape, while the rest of them serve as back up in retrieving Regulus. 

They’re about to head out of the room when Evan whistles and catches Pandora by her shoulder. “Hold on, Dora.” He leads her over to the chest of clothes he had rummaged through earlier in his fervor to find something that could get them out of the locked room. “Let’s get you some proper clothes to wear first.” 

Barty doesn’t miss the blush on Evans’ freckled complexion when they all turn to let Pandora change. 

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

James’ entire body is thrumming like a live wire. These past few weeks have been some of the worst in his life. With Regulus gone there was nothing they could do to ensure his safety. He couldn’t count the number of sleepless nights spent huddled over the marauders map with Sirius beside him, tracking the Death Eater and thinking up plan after plan of how to get their star back. He’s pretty sure he was driving Lily mad as he continued to catastrophize, taking almost permanent residency in the armchair of the captain’s cabin and prattling on about every concern that passed through his mind. 

What if they’re hurting him? 

How do we know that we’ll make it to him in time? 

What if he thinks we abandoned him? 

Lily did her best to reassure him and ease his worries, but nothing truly helped. Sirius on the other hand was a completely different case. The Sirius that haunted the ship these last few weeks was a shadow of the charismatic boy he’d come to form a friendship with. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat. He barely even spoke to anyone aside from James and Remus. After sharing the rest of the truth with the crew regarding their royal blood and Riddle, he’d withdrawn into himself. That is, until the anger kicked in. His demeanor shifted from silent to seething as the Valkyrie closed in on the Death Eater. 

Now as they approach the lip of the cave, James is honestly worried he won’t be able to stomach witnessing whatever it is Sirius will do to the poor bastard who took Regulus. In his training from before his brother had been taken, he’d become more comfortable handling a sword. Not enough to best an expert but definitely enough to cause some harm…especially when vengeful. 

“Fucking hell…can that thing even float?” Remus’ voice echoes around them before fading into the cave’s abyss. They’ve come to a stop along a gravely bank. A deteriorating boat rests in the shallow water before them.  

Remus’ question is valid. The small raft is looking a little worse for wear and James will be shocked if it’s able to carry all three of them. They might end up swimming on the journey back… Before they can dwell on it too much, Sirius is pushing the boat deeper into the water, clearly in a haste to get going. 

The boat does end up fitting all of them surprisingly, though the way it bobs up and down isn’t promising. Why in the world would Riddle drag Regulus into this decrepit place? They steadily make their way deeper into the freezing cavern. Remus is cursing up a storm under his breath as he rows them along the eerily still water. Sirius still hasn’t said anything, expression blank and impassive. Meanwhile, James anxiously fiddles with his pistol, wondering why the stifling scent of rot and decay is so pungent in the air. 

A chilling scream sounds from ahead, accompanied by the frantic splashing of water. The hairs on James’ arms stand on end as the screeching continues. Pure agony. He didn’t know a person could make a noise like that. For a moment, James thinks he hears other voices but they’re drowned out. Eventually the noise cuts off, replaced by an unsettling gurgle and eventual silence. 

“Was that…” 

“It wasn’t him.” Sirius cuts in. Hearing his voice for the first time in days is almost as startling as the shriek that had cut through the silence a moment ago. 

“How do you know?” Remus questions. 

Sirius just shakes his head, seemingly back to being silent. Eventually they approach a small island, jagged, rocky and foreboding. As they dock, James sees a second boat already perched along the water’s edge. 

“James, give me your pistol.” Both pirates swivel their heads to stare askance at Sirius. 

He must be joking. 

“It’s dark and your eyesight is already compromised. I’m the better shot anyway.” He explains with a monotone inflection. Sirius is expectantly holding his hand out and the sharp look in his gaze is enough for James to just give in, opting to pull out his cutlass. Sirius methodically counts the number of rounds left in the gun, cocking the weapon with an ease that James hasn’t seen from him before. “I’ll lead. James, stay to our right—you always forget to guard your left. Remus, you’re not as strong of a fighter so take the rear but if formation breaks, keep with James.” 

Remus is staring at Sirius, mouth agape and eyebrows drawn together. “What the fuck are you on about?” He starts, but Sirius is already trudging ahead, steps silent but steady despite the uneven terrain. After being ignored, Remus turns to James, hissing under his breath. “What is he thinking? He can’t fight for shit.” It comes across harshly, but James knows the other man is just worried for Sirius’ well-being. But…something about the surety with which Sirius gave those orders… 

“I don’t know Rem,” he mutters back hesitantly, “maybe we should just trust him.” The other looks ready to argue, but James cuts him off, moving to flank Sirius’ right. They don’t have time to analyze Sirius’ odd behavior. Not while Regulus is still in danger. Besides, between the two of them, they’re strong enough in combat to protect Sirius from his own recklessness.

The trio traverses the maze of limestone columns and stalagmites. It’s not long until James' ears detect the raised voices. The cave’s corridor opens and the scene revealed before them makes James stumble on his next step. Remus runs into his back with a curse. 

There he is. 

Regulus is on his back, a man standing above him, longsword raised and ready to strike. 

A shot fires. 

Sirius is steadily advancing on the man—who James assumes must be Riddle based on the emerald green uniform. The first bullet goes straight through the man’s shoulder, knocking him off balance. The second would have hit his heart had he not lurched to the side, dodging out of its trajectory just in time, moving further away from Regulus’ body. The last shot grazes his ear. There’s a ‘tssk’ from Sirius before he carelessly throws the gun aside, allowing it to clatter to the ground as he unsheathes his sword. The way he stalks forward akin to a panther stalking prey. Riddle hunches over, gripping his shoulder and sneering in their direction. Sirius isn’t hindered by the crazed look in glowing red eyes, nor does he hesitate when the man white knuckles his sword and lunges forward with a growl. In fact, he doesn’t even falter as he skillfully meets the admiral's strikes head on with his own weapon. Not just blocking the blows but clashing into them with just as much force, causing the steel blades to waver before sliding apart with a sonorous scrape. 

“Since when can he fucking fight?” Remus exclaims incrediously. James is just as astounded but he’s pulled out of his stupor by a groan. He steps forward, intent on reaching Regulus but Riddle's lackeys step in front of the boy. 

“I’ll take poncy ponytail. You handle ugly.” 

“They’re both poncy and ugly.” Remus complains while drawing his weapon. 

Unfortunately, it seems they’re all evenly matched, drawing the fight out until his forearms are aching and the few cuts he was unable to avoid sting with each movement as his skin stretches apart. The cacophonous echo of metal colliding against metal rings in his ears. Eventually, he’s able to land a strike at the death eater’s chest that the other doesn’t rise from. Remus and Sirius are still distracted with their own opponents so James runs over to check on Regulus, who hasn’t moved from his place on the ground. 

James crouches down beside the boy, trying to get a read on his condition. His cheekbones are more pronounced than they were before, his appearance gaunt as if he hasn’t been eating properly. He gingerly pulls Regulus up so he can untie his bruised wrists that are pulled behind his back. Once that’s out of the way he gathers the boy’s face in his hands, frantically scanning over his features and feeling a flood of relief when he's unable to catalogue any major injuries. Despite looking as if he’s gone through hell and back, James can’t help but to think Regulus is still the most ethereal person he’s ever seen. 

He's okay.

For the first time in weeks, everything is gonna be okay.

“Jamie?” the younger mumbles, slurring the syllables together. The green of his irises are eclipsed by the dark of his pupils.

Did they give him something? 

James is stroking his fingers through Regulus’ mused midnight curls, trying to whisper soothing reassurances in an attempt to calm Regulus down as the boy mutters incoherently, eyes glazed over and staring off at a point behind James’ shoulder. 

Sirius finally manages to disarm Riddle with a flick of his sword, the latter falls to the ground, trying to scoot away from Sirius as he slowly prowls forward, gazing impassively as he slashes his blade across the pale column of the admiral’s throat. Speckles of red splatter across Sirius but he doesn’t seem to notice, grey eyes alight with mirth as he watches the life drain from Riddle's body. 

Regulus is now writhing in James’ grasp, desperately pulling at his tunic and muttering his name. If his frenzied demeanor is indicative of anything, it’s apparent that the boy is clearly out of it. James attempts to tighten his grip to keep him from hurting himself while still trying to be gentle. “Reg– Hey! I need you to calm down okay? You’re safe now. We got you. I got you, you’re gonna be okay.” Regulus just shakes his head in denial. 

“Jamie– water. Can’t. Don’t. Jamie. Water. Stop.” His struggle is in earnest now. His pupils are no longer dilated but evidently his coherency hasn’t quite returned yet. With a jerk, Regulus manages to throw himself out of James’ hold. 

“Fuck. Reg!” He turns to try and catch the other, but Regulus is just quick enough to slip out of reach. James watches in slow motion as Regulus runs in Remus’ direction.

Remus who’s just managed to finish off the death eater who’d back him up to the edge of the island. He stumbles back a bit, foot dipping into the murky water. To his horror, something shoots out grabbing Remus by the ankle and dragging him from shore. The pirate lets out a yell, grappling at the jagged rock to try and keep on land but it does nothing to prolong the inevitable. 

There are claws in the water . 

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

Remus is reeling. He continues to parry each strike of his opponent, aware that he’s slowly losing ground as he’s backed closer and closer towards the island’s edge. 

James managed to finish off blondie— good for him —and is now huddled up with Regulus on the ground, the two of them directly in his eye-line. 

A few meters away, Sirius is advancing on Riddle, each strike more intense than the last and somehow no less graceful. Sirius fights as if he’s dancing. Waltzing with his opponent in a deadly duet. He twirls and blocks and lunges, sure footed and light on his feet. Wielding his sword like it’s an extension of his body. 

He looks like an avenging angel. 

Remus wouldn’t mind getting on his knees to pray. 

His opponent takes advantage of his inattention, throwing all of his strength into his next attack. It’s by sheer will alone that Remus manages to counter the blow. He feels the force of the collision reverberate in the bones of his forearm. It’s then that he sees his opening. As the other man rebounds by lunging forward, Remus jumps back while raising his own sword in a high arc, bringing it down and slicing at the man’s nape. 

What happens next is a little unclear. He watches as his opponent falls to the ground. He takes another step to steady his footing but as he’s planting his heel, a shriek sounds from in front of him. Regulus is sprinting his way, sheer terror painted across his features. Before Remus can decipher what caused such a reaction, he's vaguely  aware of his foot slipping into the water behind him—

And then there’s just pain. 

Searing, mind numbing pain.

Fortunately he has the foresight to take a deep breath before claws drag him under the dark depths of the lake.  He struggles in a desperate attempt to free himself, violently kicking out at the bodies below him and throwing elbows at the emaciated figures that wrap around his torso. At one point, one of the corpses—because what else could they be?— leaves a deep scratch across his face, forcing him to shut his eyes. Without his sight, limited as it was in the clouded water, his sense of direction is skewed. He’s not sure what direction the island is in, all he knows is that he’s being dragged down . 

Exhaustion begins to take root. Attempting to kick his way up to the surface is futile and as much as he regrets it, the instinct to breathe settles at the forefront of his mind as he runs out of oxygen. 

When he gasps for air, his chest is already on fire. A blaze that only worsens as water floods into his lungs. 

By the time someone finally reaches him to pull his body back to the surface, his eyes refuse to open.

Chapter Text

HE collapses against the rocky bank, kneeling over the dark swirling water scanning its depths for Remus’ lanky figure below. In the distance, both James and Sirius are calling after them but he can’t make out what they’re saying over the ringing in his ears. 

Remus is in there. 

Rabastan had been shredded to pieces before he even had the chance to drown. The agonized noises that ripped through his throat before it was torn out with the claws of decaying hands are still echoing in the back of Regulus’ mind. 

He runs his hands against the cool stone beneath him, the sharp sting helping to ground him and clear some of the haze that’s clouded his thoughts since ingesting the tincture. If he really strains his focus he can feel where Remus is within the lake—something warm and solid within the water’s fluid grasp but even doing that much leaves his head throbbing. 

“Fuck, Reggie!” Sirius yanks him back by the shoulder, forcing him away from the island’s edge. “What are you doing!? Are you okay? Remus—” the words cut off and his lips purse for a moment, trying to hold himself together. Regulus lets his brother pull him into a tight hug but the sense of relief from finally being reunited is tainted as they both frantically search the water, hoping that against all odds, Remus will pop back up. 

“We need to get him out. Now. ” If Regulus pushes enough he can deal with the creatures in the water but someone needs to be the one to pull Remus out… 

Sirius is clearly at war with himself, fighting between keeping Regulus in his sight and saving Remus from danger. 

James, who’d come to join the brothers, is already untying his boots and volunteering to go in. 

Sirius shoots the pirate a thankful look as he tightens his hold on his brother. “Alright. Okay. let’s do it.” 

Pushing past the exhaustion, Regulus channels his powers to the surface. The feel of the water is thick in its turbidity. A stagnant, frigid, abyss that slips through the seams of his control. His eyes slip shut as he grits his teeth and pushes further. 

The faint traces of the drug still running through his veins fights to suppress his powers. A task that would normally require little to no effort now forces his body past its limits. 

He needs rolling rapids. 

For tranquil water to become tempestuous.

It starts with ripples at the lake’s surface that eventually become persistent waves. A shaky inhale of brisk salty air and he’s able to plunge the movement deeper, creating a building current that cuts around Remus and pushes outwards, leaving the man untouched while manipulating his surroundings. With a painful gasp, he eventually gathers the strength needed to form riptides that tangle around the animated death within, forcing it away and creating an opening for James to dive into the water’s icy grasp. The proceeding splash sprays frigid droplets onto his face that seamlessly blend with the cold sweat that’s broken out over his body.  

The seconds are passing by too slowly, and his control is wavering. 

“Shit, Reg.” The grasp Sirius has around him tightens in an attempt to keep him lucid but he barely registers it. He can’t stop now. He needs to keep James safe. Bring Remus back.

He just needs to hold on for a little longer… 

Just. 

A little. 

Longer. 

James breaks the water’s surface, whipping his head side to side to throw the soaked curls covering his eyes out of his face. Both brothers watch with bated breath until they see Remus, limp in the man’s arms bobbing closer to shore alongside his shipmate. 

Regulus finally releases his hold of the lake when James drags himself back to the safety of the island, sprawling Remus’ unconscious form out on his back before them. The rush of relief he feels at seeing the both of them back on solid ground dwindles when James immediately checks for a pulse. 

It diminishes when James starts doing compressions. 

His eyes flit over to Sirius whose face has gone unnaturally pale as he stares at the scene in shock. Remus is covered in long scratches. Shallow wounds that ooze red and smear across James’ hands. His body is stiff as it slightly jostles with each press. 

He looks dead.  

He technically is. 

“He’s… Remus… He’s–”

James curses under his breath as he continues to repeatedly push down on Remus’ chest but it doesn’t seem to be working. 

No . 

Remus has to come back. He’s too deeply intertwined in all of their lives to just be gone. He’s come to be one of Regulus’ closest friends. One of his favorite people. He’s James’ brother in all but blood. He could be Siri’s everything . His brother has already faced so many horrors in this life, the loss of his Moon would leave him inconsolable. 

The day Remus Lupin is allowed to leave Sirius like this is the day hell freezes over, and Regulus will make sure of it. 

He crawls over to the pair of pirates, placing one hand over James’ and hovers the other above Remus’ parted lips. 

“Reg… what are you—” 

“Just trust me.” He cuts the other off, urging James to continue the compressions. Regulus flexes his fingers, and though they slip through the air, he feels them grab onto something tangible. Something fluid. He envisions grabbing hold of it, guiding its essence from inflated lungs, up the narrow passage of the trachea and through the pharynx. With a sharp twist of his wrist, a dark stream of water emerges from Remus’ throat with a gurgle. 

A moment passes, the three of them holding their breath, waiting. 

Nothing happens.

He’s almost certain he was able to siphon enough water from Remus’ lungs. It has to be enough. With how much energy he’s already drained, he wouldn’t be confident in his ability to move a single raindrop at this point, let alone go through the intricacy of pulling out more water from the man’s body without causing visceral damage…

James’ hands are shaking from their place over Remus’ chest and Sirius is staring down at the both of them with an eerily blank expression, gray eyes glazed over. 

How is he going to help them get through this? The grief is already starting to settle in his chest, taking up the air in his lungs. It’s suffocating. Is it even possible to get through this?   

A raspy inhale catches his attention. 

Remus sputters out the last of the liquid. James ceases the compressions and promptly rolls the man onto his side, soothingly patting his back as he violently coughs. 

“Oh thank gods.” Sirius breaths out. He reaches to cradle Remus’ face, stroking his thumbs across light stubble. “Thank gods. Thank gods.” His brother drops a kiss against the pirates temple before meeting Regulus’ gaze. “Thank you.” 

Remus groans and squints open his eyes. A wry grin spreads across his face. “Waters’ dangerous guys,” he slurs, “don’t touch it.”

A startled laugh slips from Regulus, simply due to the sheer absurdity of the statement. 

Perhaps the brief moment of lunacy is contagious because soon both he and Remus are howling with laughter. 

Sirius levels the two of them with a stare that could turn the living into stone. 

“You’re both grounded.”

₊‧.°.⋆⚔⋆.°.₊

What a shit show. 

Sneaking off the Death Eater is supposed to be an inconspicuous endeavor. 

Of course, the reality of the situation is anything but. 

By pure coincidence, the moment he’d stuck his head out to see if the coast was clear for them to exit the captain’s cabin was the very same moment Rudolphus Lestrange rounded the nearby corner. They’d locked eyes for a terse five seconds before Evan slipped back behind the door, mentally cursing everything in existence. He’d barely had the chance to warn the others before the bell on the bow of the ship was ringing, alerting everyone aboard of their presence. 

So here they are. Spread out across the main deck of a boat that has become the bane of Evan’s existence, fighting for their lives so they can survive long enough to venture into a death cave before a sociopath kills his friend and gains the longevity needed to topple one of the world's oldest monarchies. 

Absolutely fantastic!

It’s disturbing that this is on theme for what has become his typical day to day. When this whole nightmare is over, Evan intends to get blackout drunk and then sleep for a week straight in the name of reparations. 

He isn’t a complete pessimist though. There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, and in this situation it’s having the chance to beat the shit out of Riddle’s crew. It’s like finally quitting your crummy job and having the chance to express all of your grievances by pummeling the worst of your coworkers. Honestly, knocking Yaxley out cold was the equivalent of ten years of therapy. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot when you’re pissed off, Rosie.” Barty groans from his side whilst disarming Karkaroff. 

“You two are disgusting, you know that?” Dorcas exclaims from where she’s dueling Avery. Truthfully, she’s not wrong. 

“Just doing my best to keep the romance alive, sweetheart.” Barty replies with a wink. “It’s the key to a healthy marriage.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you two were married. Congratulations!” Pandora chimes, lightly clapping with her dagger still in hand. She stands slightly to the edge of the chaos, Captain Evans acting as some sort of feral guard dog keeping harm away from the smaller girl.  

“Fucks sake. We’re not married, Bee. Stop telling people we are!” His sword clashes with Carrow’s, forcing the other man backwards. 

“Hey! That’s not my fault!” Barty yells back whilst kicking Karkaroff to the ground. He plants the heel of his boot over the man’s throat and dramatically points his sword at Evan. “You’re the one who keeps saying no!”

“I’ll say yes when you give me a proper proposal you arse—”

“FOCUS!” Captain Evans shouts. He zeroes back in on Carrow who’s coming at him with his weapon raised and a limp in his step. How pathetic . 

They manage to finish off the remaining death eaters, leaving their mostly unconscious bodies (Evan is almost 100% certain Barty killed at least two) scattered throughout the ship. Once they step onto land, Pandora and Lily split off to retrieve the Valkyrie, leaving the rest of the group to navigate their way to the cave. 

“Alright, we go in, save Regulus, and then get the hell out of here.” He whispers to keep his words from echoing as they trudge through the dark cavern. The sound of his words is accompanied by the steady drip of water but he can’t pinpoint its source just yet. There must be a reservoir deeper within the cavern. 

“Oh, well then no worries.” Marlene cuts him off. “He’s right there.” 

Everyone whips their heads up to face where the pirate is pointing and needless to say, there he is. He looks like he’s on the verge of collapsing but he’s here. 

When Regulus notices them, his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. His three companions tense for a moment, clearly just as befuddled from where they slump against each other. 

“What are you guys doing here?” 

Barty throws his arms up in exasperation. “We’re saving you .”

“Well it’s too late for that.” The prince deadpans, vaguely motioning over himself clearly in one piece. 

“Yeah, no shit princess.”

One of the men at Regulus’ side shoots Barty a glare at the comment. Ah. he must be Jamie . Dorcas is already rushing forwards, scooping Regulus into a tight hug, a medley of apologies flowing from her mouth. As much as Evan wants to check in on Regulus himself, the memory of Dorcas disarming and throwing him onto the floor is all too vivid and he has no desire to interrupt her much needed reunion. Instead he joins Barty before his boyfriend takes the opportunity to antagonize the new arrivals. 

In the end it’s Sirius who urges them to continue the trek back to the cave opening. 

When they finally make it onto the Valkyrie, Evan and Barty are immediately welcomed, just as Regulus claimed they would be. A girl named Emmeline shows them to the crew’s sleeping quarters, offering the both of them their own cots. After settling in, they end up stacked atop one another in one of the larger hammocks, passing whispers back and forth as they wait for the rocking of the ship to lull them to sleep. He curls against Barty’s lean frame, allowing himself to relax for the first time in months. 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺

“Alright Moons, let’s get you bandaged up.” Sirius helps Remus settle onto his bed against the high stack of pillows. Sirius used to find the pirate’s collection superfluous but now he’s seeing the perks of having more pillow than bed space… sort of. He still tosses three of the pillows that attempt to bury his boyfriend in down feathers off to the side (and ignores when Remus snatches one back and hugs it against his chest). “You’re lucky you’re cute. You know that?” He huffs, turning to the cabinet by the door and rummaging for bandages and antiseptic. 

Remus throws him a smug smirk. “Oh, I’m well aware.” The lazy grin on his face morphes into a grimace as Sirius starts cleaning one of the cuts running across his nose. “Shit, that stings.” He hisses. When he tries to squirm away Sirius grips his chin tighter and holds him in place. 

These will likely scar.

“You know what’s worse than a little sting?” He asks with false cheer in his voice. “Fucking dying. Oh wait! You already did that today!” He tilts the man’s chin upwards to move on to the scratch crossing over his collarbone. “Your heart fully stopped. James had to do CPR. Do you know how worried I was?!” The wound on his shoulder is a little deeper and starts to bleed again as he runs the now pink tinged cloth over it. A hand catches his wrist stopping the motion, and another comes up to cup his face. 

“Sirius,” Remus sighs, “I’m fine.” He swipes his thumb along Sirius’ cheekbone, wiping away at the tears that start to trail down. He’s not sure when he started crying; it's as if all the stress and worry that’s been building up finally overwhelms him, forcing its way out. Remus pulls him into a hug, whispering soothing reassurances in his ear. 

Surrounded by Remus’ warm arms and a mountain of his ridiculous pillows that smell like parchment and earl grey, Sirius allows himself the rarity of falling apart. 

In the past 24 hours, he's witnessed both his baby brother and boyfriend almost die (Remus did die), and watched his best friend risk his life to save them. He came far too close to losing his favorite people in the blink of an eye and now that the adrenaline has run its course, the reality of it all is catching up to him. 

“You’re not allowed to do that again.” He sniffles and tightens his hold around Remus. “You have to promise to stay with me. No more near death experiences.”  

“As long as I’m able, I’ll always find a way to stay by your side, Sirius. Even if it means fighting the fates and death.” 

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The mess hall of the Valkyrie is in full swing. Once they’d set sail (in the opposite direction of Slytherin’s coast), and had all taken the opportunity to wind down after the rescue mission, Evan somehow convinced everyone that the best course of action would be getting wasted. Barty had immediately backed his boyfriend, claiming that a bit of ‘liquid therapy’ would boost moral and serve as a great bonding activity. From there, the plan was in motion, garnering the enthusiastic support of Marlene and Dorcas. 

Bottles of mead and rum are passed around the room. The buzz of several conversations happening simultaneously swarms around him and somehow it’s nowhere near the volume of the blaring music courtesy of Pandora, Marlene, and Mary who have formed a drunken musical trio.  

James sways to the rhythm causing his drink to slosh back and forth in his glass. Half of the amber liquid ends up on the floor. Likely for the best. He should probably cut himself off soon anyway. The Black brothers have already had their mead switched out for water. He and Remus learned the hard way that it doesn’t take much alcohol for the princes to be three sheets to the wind, even though Sirius would fight for his life trying to disprove his low tolerance. As it is now, the both of them are three drinks in and pleasantly buzzed, chattering excitedly with one another about traumatizing childhood anecdotes and occasionally looping James and Remus into their conversation. 

“There you are, Princess!” Barty burst through their circle, wrapping his arms around Regulus and hanging off his shoulders. His face is flush and movements are uncoordinated. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. You still need to formally introduce us to your people. Isn’t that right Rosie?” 

Evan appears to James’ right, eyelids heavy as he nods along with his boyfriend’s words. 

Regulus is giggling, something he’d never do while sober. He plays into Barty’s antics, leaning his weight back onto the other boy. Somehow their wobbly limbs don’t give out from under them. For some reason the sight causes James’ eye to twitch.

He isn't sure why, but seeing Barty practically on top of Regulus sets him on edge. 

“There’s no point, Bee. You’ve probably already figured out who everyone is with that whizzy brain of yours.” Regulus answers. A devilish smirk possesses Barty’s face, clearly pleased with the compliment.   

“Right you are! Let’s test it out.” He slurs. The man swivels the both of them to face the entire group. A shaky finger points towards the older Black brother who’s now standing with his arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist. “So you’re Sirius and you’re— woah,” Barty whistles, “who’s this babe you’re with Sirius?” 

“That’s Remus,” James grits out, “and he has a boyfriend.” Sirius looks ready to commit homicide. Remus on the other hand, just seems amused and continues to take lazy swigs of his rum. 

“So do I.” Barty smirks, eyeing the pirate up and down lazily, continuing to ignore James. “See, we already have so much in common. For pretty people such as you and Regulus, Evan and I are willing to audition for a third” He jests, wiggling his eyebrows. Regulus and Remus are fully cackling now. Sirius is all but frothing at the mouth and honestly, James is feeling similarly. 

Thankfully, Evan grabs his boyfriend by the shirt collar and tugs him back to his side. “That’s enough Bartemius exposure for the evening. Sorry about him.” The blond yells over the music. “He’s kind of feral.” 

“Oh, I haven’t even begun to show them feral yet–” Evan cuts him off with a kiss, effectively shutting him up for the first time tonight. Thank gods.  

Sirius mumbles a half assed excuse before dragging Remus to the exit. James sees them turn to the chart room and makes note not to interrupt them for the rest of the night to keep from scarring his retinas. 

With his previous audience now gone or occupied, he searches for a familiar head of dark curls seeing as Regulus has somehow slipped away without his notice. James finds the boy dancing with Pandora. He twirls her around and swoops her into a low dip that would leave most people swooning. He can almost envision the boy doing the same but surrounded by high palace walls, dressed from head to toe in expensive silks and twinkling jewels. It’d be stunning.  

“They make a cute pair, don’t they?” James tilts his head towards Lily who slides in next to him, leaning against the wall with her ankles and arms crossed. 

“No need to sound so bitter about it, Lils. They’re just friends.” He stifles a laugh as she huffs and takes a heavy drink from the bottle dangling between her fingertips.  

“Yeah. Friends that dance pressed up against each other.” She narrows her green eyes at the pair. “You know, they spend the entire day together. Even their bed cots are right next to each other! When was the last time you spent time alone with Regulus anyway? The only time I see Pandora is during meals. It’s like Regulus is her mistress and somehow I’m still the other woman.” She slurs, growing more and more passionate as she prattles on. 

“Are you and Pandora even dating?” From what he’s seen, the two women clearly have history but in these past few days they seem to be walking on eggshells around one another. Polite but distant. 

Lily’s mouth drops open, affronted that James would dare possess the audacity to ask such a question. 

“So what if we’re not!” She sputters. “Are you and Regulus even together?!” 

“Of course we’re toge–” Wait. Regulus likes James. James is certain of this. Unfortunately, they never got the chance to confirm what they were before Regulus got taken hostage. Are they just dating? Does Regulus think this is a fling? Even worse, are they just casual? James is the antithesis of casual… so are they boyfriends? 

James is spiraling. He supposes Lily has a point. A tentative glance back in Regulus’ direction shows that the boy is now leaning his head closer to Pandora’s ear so she can hear him over the music. Whatever he says leaves Pandora in a fit of bubbling laughter. 

She has a pretty laugh. Probably a laugh someone could fall in love with for the rest of their life. 

Does Regulus think James has a pretty laugh? Does he even like James’ laugh? What if he actually hates it? 

“Lils,” he whines, “do you think my laugh is annoying?” 

“Yeah. Super loud too.” She deadpans, eyes never leaving the blonde girl on the dance floor.

He’s doomed. 

The other pair continues to socialize, dance, and sing to their heart's content, completely oblivious to the sulk fest Lily has founded and James has joined. This goes on for so long that eventually the pirates both finish their drinks and end up slumped against the hardwood, incoherent and inconsolable. 

“Lily?” A light voice chirps. “Are you alright? What are you doing on the floor?’ Pandora peers down at the red head with her wide blue eyes. Lils looks up at the other girl as if she’s looking upon Aphrodite herself. As if the awestruck expression wasn’t enough, she starts to garble out what sounds like a mix between waxed poetry and an honest to gods love confession. Sadly, what James is sure was a heartfelt speech can't be deciphered due to the pirate's mumbled words that seamlessly blend into each other and her tendency to jump to a completely different train of thought before finishing the last. Lily is likely the only one who truly understands what she’s trying to say and the odds that she’ll remember any of it tomorrow is slim to none. 

Shame. 

“Alright… let’s leave them be, and get you to bed.” That’s said by his favorite voice. The light of his life. His star. 

Regulus is crouched down in front of him, a beautiful flush over his high cheekbones and midnight curls artfully tousled to fall in front of that dreamy expression. The sight before him should be preserved in a museum so everyone’s eyes can be blessed with Regulus’ beauty. For some reason the thought makes him tear up.    

“Jamie,” Regulus coos, “what’s the pout for?” The boy reaches to smooth the crease between James’ brows but now the tears are really falling.

“Do you think my laugh is annoying?” He blubbers as Regulus does his best to pull James from his spot on the floor. After some struggling, the smaller boy succeeds in getting James to stand with an arm slung over his shoulders. 

“Of course not. I love your laugh.” The two stumble out of the mostly cleared out mess hall, Regulus steering them towards James’ room. By the time they make it to the door, which is far more difficult to open in their current state, James has asked if he’s sure about a dozen times with Regulus always answering with steady reassurances. 

The both of them topple onto the mattress, the movement causes the room to swim for a moment. James is quite sure his brain is spinning in circles within his cranium. When the swaying stops he has enough forethought to kick off his shoes and shrug off his tunic before crawling into bed and smooshing the side of his face against plush pillows. To his surprise Regulus also shuffles under the quilt covers, boots and leather corset removed. 

“You’re staying?” He asks, exhilaration clear in his voice. 

Regulus hums, scooting himself closer to James and cuddling against his chest. The boy smells like tea leaves and honey and James wants to get high on the scent. His eyes have already slipped shut, and James can feel the cool puffs of his breath against his collar bone, causing goosebumps to tingle on his skin. 

For a moment he just basks in the moment, allowing his body to relax against the other boy. 

“Hey, Reg.” Another quiet hum. “If you like my laugh, does that make us boyfriends?” The rum makes the logic of his question seem pretty sound in the moment. Sleep is weighing down on him but he fights against it, trying to stay awake for the answer. 

“Yeah, Jamie.” He mumbles into his pillow. “I think that makes us boyfriends.” 

Chapter Text

THE sharp scritching of the feather quill against parchment accompanies the faint twittering of the swooping swallows outside. Pink hues from the sunrise spill through the pattern etched windows, casting the room in a hazy blush. 

It’s a peaceful morning. She’s been experiencing a lot of those recently.  

Walburga sits back in her chair, gazing down at the letter. She reads over it carefully before signing her name with slanted swirls of ink. Creasing the paper into a perfect tri-fold, she tucks it into an envelope before sealing it shut with Slytherin’s wax press. Not her personal seal. This isn’t that sort of message. She’s not writing as a mother, nor is she seeking forgiveness. Her actions are not forgivable, and even if they were, she cannot feel regret for them. This is a letter from Slytherin’s sovereign. Nothing more.  

Maybe there is a timeline where she could have been more.  

She peers through the glass, watching the pale purple flowers dance in the breeze. Little stars waving at her through a window. 

I missed you today, Cassie. 

Maybe sometime, somewhere, there’s a happy family of four living in the countryside, in a cottage instead of a castle. Where the mother sits in the garden and watches her eldest daughter chase after two rambunctious boys wearing grass stained clothes and bright carefree grins.  

That mother would feel remorse. 

That mother would write a different letter, full of apologies and promises. 

When her personal guard came to her with the news of Riddle’s death she wasn’t sure how to react at first. With one sentence, all of her obstacles had been removed from the chess board.

There was a lot of work to be done. Slytherin was a kingdom built on tradition. Its culture and history was preserved yet tainted. Its long line of male successors relied on the structure of the kingdom remaining fixed to keep them in power. They remained at the top of the hierarchy, but it was detrimental to their country. Kingdoms were made to grow. Evolving with the changing times is pivotal for true prosperity, so long as the monarch isn’t afraid to put forth the effort needed to make that transition happen. 

And Walburga was willing to put in the work. 

Legislation was rewritten, new decrees were passed, and systems were dismantled and restructured. 

Her old advising council called it radical but she considered it practical. Every alteration to Orion's policy was made with the long-term benefit of Slytherin in mind. It just so happened, her ideas aligned with what her subjects wanted. Reports on her popularity began to overtake public discontent with having a woman on the throne for the foreseeable future. 

That was all months ago. 

As of the current date, Slytherin’s economy, trade, foreign affairs and internal politics are drastically improving for the first time in a half-millennia. Not that the country ever lacked in these areas, it was just stagnant .  

Her country is thriving and the history books will remember it was she who did it. 

So far, her accomplishments are vast, but there is still much to do. 

Her fingers rhythmically dance over the sealed parchment, filling the room's silence with the sound of consistent tapping. This will be one more task crossed off the list. 

There’s a light knock at her door. She calls for them to enter and in strides a woman with ebony skin, a willowy frame, and black hair twisted into an intricate updo. She glides into Walburga’s personal  chambers like a wraith. “You called for me, Your Majesty?” 

Carlotta Zabini. An ambitious young woman who’d charmed her way into the queen’s inner circle as an informant. Zabini was a Lady of high society with a natural affinity for gossip and blackmail. If she couldn’t utilize her social standing, she relied on her beauty and wealth. If that failed, she fell back on cruelty and cunning. There were even rumors she had killed her husbands. Walburga took an immediate liking towards the woman, and now she serves as her eyes and ears within the kingdom. 

“I did.” Walburga passes Carlotta the envelope and states the recipient's name. “Be discreet. Don’t allow him to see you.” 

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

“C’mon Reggie, it’ll be quick.” Sirius pleads. His brother rolls his eyes but allows himself to be pulled through the shop's double door which swings open with the chime of a bell overhead. 

Once they’re inside, the aroma of freshly baked pastry hits his nose. The scent summons a sense of nostalgia, bringing him back to all the time they spent in the palace kitchen surrounded by freshly baked desserts. 

“You can roll your eyes all you want, baby brother, but I know you’d never turn down a chance to have sweets.” Regulus mumbles a quip back but Sirius doesn’t quite catch it as the bakery owner steps up to the counter asking for their order. It’s their first time in Hufflepuff and the minute the Valkyrie docked within the harbor, the brothers bolted to the nearest bakery in order to try the world renowned desserts and delicacies. 

Sirius is scanning the display case, trying to decide on which items to purchase — all of them look equally mouth watering— when Regulus drops a coin purse onto the counter with a blank expression and orders one of each. 

“Where did you even get the money to buy all this?” Sirius questions as they find a seat outside, each of them carrying a large paper bag, stuffed to the brim with an assortment of tarts, strudels, cream puffs, macarons, éclairs, and more. 

“Jamie.” Well that answers it. That man absolutely spoils Regulus with all that he has. Not that Sirius would permit a relationship which offers his brother anything less. That being said, he’s still astounded by all of the things James is willing to do just to bring a smile to his little brother’s face. The pastries alone easily cost at least 10 galleons… 

They sit and he pulls out a warm strawberry danish dusted in powdered sugar. The first bite of warm strawberry filling is a taste of heaven. “Well thank you James.” He moans before stuffing another bite into his mouth. Regulus glares at him for talking with his mouth full but the expression slips from his face after sampling a bite of his own pastry. 

Occasionally they fill the space between them with chatter but for the most part they enjoy the sunny afternoon in comfortable silence. 

Halfway through the first bag, Sirius feels a prickle at the back of his neck, as if he’s being watched. He scans his surroundings but can’t spot anyone out of place who could potentially be trailing them. The unease passes and he shakes the lingering feeling, assuming he must just be paranoid being out in the open as they are but his eyes catch on an envelope beside his spot on the bench. 

“Reg… did you see who put this here?” 

 His brother tilts his head in confusion. “No. Are you sure it wasn’t there when you sat down?” 

“Positive…” He murmurs while picking up the envelope. 

The emerald seal displaying a coiled snake has dread pooling in his gut. Regulus notices Slytherin’s emblem and scoots closer as Sirius tears at the paper, pulling out the enclosed letter. 

Regulus’ eyes are already scanning over its contents, an abrupt gasp leaving his parted lips as he reaches the end. 

Sirius Black, 

I, [Queen Walburga Irma Black I], write this letter to inform the recipient, [Sirius Orion Black III], that he is relinquished of his titles [e.g. heir, prince, and army lieutenant of Slytherin] indefinitely. Properties, assets and benefits associated with aforementioned titles will also be revoked. 

The recipient is hereby disowned and disinherited from the Black Family.  

It is with this same power vested in me, that I pardon the recipient of all current crimes to the Slytherin throne. The recipient will not be captured, summoned, or made to pay for past charges in any manner— effective immediately. 

Parting regards, 

Queen Walburga I

X 

Underneath the first document was an identical letter addressed to Regulus, stripping him of all titles and pardoning him. 

“So the witch does have a heart.” Sirius whispers. He reads over the letter one more time in disbelief. He had honestly been expecting another assination attempt sometime soon. His mother, always one to act in extremes, would have no issue simply killing both him and Regulus off for peace of mind. But to simply disown them and go through the effort of pardoning them? Considering Sirius literally killed the previous reigning monarch, this letter of immunity is likely the only sure thing keeping him from the gallows…until the next crime he commits but that’s neither here nor there… “Do you think I can imitate her handwriting and get this to cover future crimes as well?” 

“Don’t push your luck Sirius.” Regulus huffs but there’s a smile creeping across his face. “I can’t believe she’s letting us go.” He breathes out. 

Well they can only do one thing now.  

“Hey, Reg,” Sirius sings, “got any leftover coin from Jamesie boy perchance? I think this calls for a celebration.” 

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.₊

“Ladies and scoundrels! The Black brothers have an announcement!” Sirius is shouting from the rope ladder leading up to the Valkyrie’s crows nest, one leg dangling in the air and an arm theatrically waving around to get everyone’s attention. The crew gathers round on the main deck leaving space for Sirius to jump back down with a dramatic flounce in his step as he strides amongst the crowd. Regulus waits a little off to the side, finally setting down the crate of bottles they’d purchased in town. “Regulus and I are officially commonors!” His brother exclaims, flaunting their papers with a smug smirk and his chin tilted upwards. 

Barty and Marlene are cheering enthusiastically, Pandora joining in with fluttering claps and a quiet smile in Regulus’ direction. Remus, who’s standing the closest to his brother as usual, snatches the papers from Sirius’ hand to give them a read for himself. Regulus watches as the pirate’s eyes dance across the page once, twice, and a third time, each read through transforming his expression into one of bewilderment. Eventually he sputters, pointing at the letter and staring at Sirius aghast. “‘All current crimes to the Slytherin throne’? What the fuck did you do?” He screeches. 

“Piss off Moony, you’re literally a pirate. I doubt your record is clean.” Sirius rolls his eyes. 

“You were a prince! What crimes can a prince possibly commit against his own throne?” 

“Oh. You didn’t hear?” Regulus chimes in. He’d assumed the news would have gotten out by now. Or that his brother would have at least bragged–mentioned it. “Sirius killed father.”

Remus stares at him, wide eyed and still as a statue before rounding back on his boyfriend. “You killed the King?” He exclaims in disbelief. 

“I ridded the world of a sorry sack of shit is what I did.” Sirius sniffs and quickly moves on. “To celebrate my dear brother and I officially becoming orphans, we’ve bought things to celebrate!” He reaches into the crate and pulls out a shining bottle of mead. The crew lets out an excited cheer as the bottles are passed around. Someone yells for a toast which Sirius gladly obliges, telling everyone to drink to their heart’s content, coughing out a side remark at the end about ‘everything being funded by James anyway’. 

“Wait,” James chokes on his drink, “you used my money instead of your own?!” He really should know better by now. Sirius always spends all of his earnings within a week. 

“It’s what Regulus wanted!” Sirius whines. 

James’s attitude immediately changes, features softening and taking on a less defensive stance. “Oh,” he says airily, “well that’s okay. Glad I could help pitch in.’ Emmeline looks at the boy in disgust, muttering something about how he’s getting pathetic and sappy with age. 

“What's that smile for?” Pandora bumps her shoulder with Regulus’, momentarily breaking his gaze away from his boyfriend. He gives a noncommittal hum, leaning into her side and admiring the chaos that is the Valkyrie crew. Mary, Molly, and Alice are already starting a drinking game. Evan and Barty are cackling with Dorcas and Emmeline over something nonsensical (and likely  immoral). In the center of the deck, Marlene is shouting a series of expletives at James as they struggle against each other in an arm wrestling match which Sirius has taken to dramatically commentating over earning exasperated laughs from Remus and Lily. 

It’s a mess. 

A mess he’s all too thankful to be a part of.