Chapter 17: Lonely Together
Grimmauld Place, November 4th 1996
I wake up, gasping for air, my wand at the ready before I can even see my surroundings clearly. I'm in my room, and everything seems to be in order, but I still flick my wand to test the wards of the house.
No one else is here, just Kreacher and I. There's nothing but silence.
I groan as my head starts to spin, and I drop back against the pillow as the nauseating feeling takes over, debating if I should just try to get some sleep or crawl out of bed with a Sober-up-potion. But then I remember that I don't have any. Lupin, the bloody wanker, took the last vials and all the ingredients for that sweet little remedy, I reckon, trying to make me quit drinking.
"Fuck…" I moan as my stomach lurches uncomfortably. The morning after truly is the worst.
And it's not that I've been drinking daily, or even weekly – although I might have been, since sometimes I really don't seem to notice time going by – but yesterday…It would've been – it was his birthday. And I saw him again. Sirius.
During the past four months I've seen my brother several times, and since during many of those times I've been completely sober, I don't believe our meetings to be some sort of drunken false memories my brain has made in order to shield me from mental pain.
No, I still don't believe he's gone. The date in the tapestry keeps flickering every now and then, and he seems so…real…every time we speak. I have researched every possible fact, legend and myth about the archway I've been able to get my hands on, but so far, I have found nothing. Not even Sirius has learned anything about the place he's trapped in, and since he doesn't dare to speak to the others, there's really not much to go on.
I rub my temple as my head starts to thrum slowly, but surely. Fucking hangover. I thought only Muggles were supposed to suffer from it, since us wizarding folk have magic to solve these things.
"KREACHER," I croak, and take a steadying breath as my stomach rolls again.
The elf appears next to my bed with a loud crack, the sound of it vibrating in my skull nastily. "Master Regulus summoned?" Kreacher asks cautiously.
I let out a weary sigh. "Bring me something…anything…please." I rasp and the elf snaps its fingers, immediately summoning a tall glass of cold water and a phial of blue potion.
"Pain Relief potion, master Regulus. Kreacher is not have means to get master anything…better," Kreacher says apologetically, self-reproach evident in its eyes.
I give the elf a sharp nod, and regret it instantly, as my head starts to pound with pain. I let out a small wince before I speak to my elf. "It's okay, Kreacher. Could you please prepare me some breakfast? I'll be downstairs…shortly," I say, and swallow quickly, as the image of breakfast is making bile to rise to my throat.
As soon as Kreacher disapparates, I stagger up from my bed and rush into the bathroom to empty my stomach.
"Ugh…" I groan a few minutes later as I slump down on the floor of my bathroom, leaning my head against the cold tile wall.
His laugh echoes in my head. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I feel the sharp tug of pain that follows.
"Feel better?" He asks innocently.
"Bugger off." I mumble back. I can feel the pounding in my head getting worse. "What did you do to me? I feel like shit."
Sirius sniggers. "Oh, brother. This was all you. You insisted on mixing up vodka and Firewhiskey," he says with delight in his voice.
I groan again. "Please stop talking."
I blink, feeling out of sorts as the memory dissolves from my mind, leaving me to sit alone, in the empty and cold bathroom.
It felt so real. Almost as real as last night's conversation with my brother.
"You've been drinking again, brother," Sirius says, giving me a disapproving look.
I arch a brow at him. "Yeah? Who cares if I'm sober or not…" I mutter sullenly and look around us. The chamber is as cold and dark as it has always been, nothing has changed. Nothing ever changes.
Sirius stares at me, working his jaw. "I care," He says quietly, a defiant tone in his voice.
A flicker of anger rolls in my chest. "Well, you're not here with me, brother," I say dryly, immediately regretting my words.
A deep frown takes place between his brows, his eyes flashing with hurt, because of what I said. The topic is something we've decided not to bring up. We've agreed not to go there. We've agreed to have hope.
"Sirius – " I start guiltily, but he interrupts me.
"Forget it, Reggie. I don't want to waste this time by arguing with you," He says with a sad smile, his expression hardening a bit. "Although, I thought we agreed you're not drinking anymore?" He says with a half-hearted smirk. "Have got nothing left for me once I manage to come back, since you've been sozzling your way through every bottle in England that has alcohol in it…" He says lightly, a hint of a grin on his lips.
I can't help but smile at him, but then I remember why exactly was I drinking last night. I look away and clear my throat. "Well, it's not every day your big brother turns thirty-seven…" I say, my voice slightly thick as I try to swallow the lump from my throat.
"Shit…" Sirius merely says, and as I look at him again, I can see the stricken look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Reggie…I'm sorry that I can't be there with you."
There's a short silence, and then, "FUCK!" He yells, pulling his hair in frustration. "I fucking hate this! Haven't I fucking suffered enough?!" He continues, his words aimed to the ceiling high up.
We don't usually have any excess time to deal with, since our meetings are almost over before they have even properly started. But what I've gathered, is that my brother is in some kind of midpoint – not with us, but not yet in nothingness. And how he's been describing everything, it seems that there are others, who are past that midpoint, but that could mean anything. Souls, ghosts, his own mind playing tricks. You name it.
I have no idea how long can he stay there, and is it even possible for him to return, but I know I don't have any choice than to believe he'll come back.
With a deep sigh, I stand up and make my way downstairs.
As I open the kitchen door, I stop in surprise. Lupin's here, but Kreacher hasn't come to inform me.
"Regulus," He says kindly, a cup of tea between his hands as he studies me.
I grunt in reply and take a seat opposite to him, and start to load my plate with toast, bacon, sausages and eggs. At least my appetite has come back. Between a bite toast and a gulp of tea, I glance at him. There're dark circles under Lupin's eyes. I suppose he too remembers what day was yesterday.
There's a short silence before he speaks. "Do you still see him?" He asks with a careful tone.
I chew the mouthful of bread slowly, contemplating my answer. As I take in the worried look in his eyes, the uneasiness in his posture, I decide not to burden him with my thoughts. With the truth.
"Well…of course I dream about him. Everything around me reminds me of him," I say simply, and take another sip of my tea.
He seems to be weighing my reply, and then nods slowly. "I know what you mean. Sirius is…often in my thoughts," he says with a gloomy look.
I look away in search of the paper, as I'm really not in the mood to continue the conversation. I spot the Daily Prophet at the end of the table, and after shaking it open and propping it against the pitcher of pumpkin juice, I hear Lupin clearing his throat, and then silence.
"…What?" I say dryly after a moment, feeling his hesitation in the air. I glance at him over the paper, where I've been skimming the article under the headline DEATH EATERS: HOW THEY CHALLENGE SECURITY MEASURES.
Lupin scratches his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. "There is actually something important I would like to discuss with you."
"I gathered," I mutter, and wait for him to continue.
His lips twitch slightly, but then he becomes serious and frowns at me. "The Order is going to assemble again, and I was sent here to –"
"To ask if you could use my home as your Headquarters again?" I interrupt him with an arched brow.
Lupin lifts a hand in reassurance. "We of course understand if you wish not to," he says quickly.
I stare at him for a while in silence. "You are trying to tell me that the Order hasn't gathered after what happened in the Ministry? After the Dark Lord came in the open, and let the whole wizarding world know he was still alive?" I ask sceptically. I'm not buying it.
Lupin's cheeks tinge with red. "Yes, well, the Order has gathered, but…" He trails off, looking embarrassed.
"You were sparing my feelings? Giving me time to heal?" I ask sharply, feeling annoyed all of a sudden.
Lupin sighs wearily and gives me a determined look. "Frankly, we did not want to include you since you were a liability."
My brows lift with surprise. I wasn't really expecting him to say that, even though he might be correct. Lupin stays quiet as I process the information.
"And now?" I ask curiously.
Lupin looks resigned. "We could use Grimmauld Place, as it is the most heavily protected homes we know of. And…we could use your knowledge." He says simply, a considering look in his eyes. "That is, if you're done with that shit," he continues and gives a meaningful glance to the empty Firewhiskey bottle on the corner of the table.
I let out an amused huff. "Well, might as well be, since you're the one keeping that shit away from me…" I mutter, and Lupin chuckles faintly.
There's a short silence, and then Lupin speaks again, his expression shifting to a hesitant one. "Have you talked with Harry? After summer?"
I look away and frown at the fireplace, a mix of shame and guilt circling in my stomach. No, I daresay I haven't. I wanted to…I wanted to see him, to write to him and…well, I wanted to apologise for what I said. I know he wasn't the reason my brother died. I know who's responsible for that. But it just felt too…difficult, contacting him after the way we parted. I've come to understand that my brother meant the world to him, that Potter must've felt like he got a piece of his parents back through my brother. And then it was all taken away from him, again. And I made sure he didn't forget how his actions played a part in that.
"Regulus?"
I swallow hard and turn back to look at Lupin, clearing any hint of emotion from my face. "No. No, I haven't." I say tightly.
Lupin gives me a long, sharp look, before he sighs and his expression becomes conflicted. "It's not too late, you know?" He says quietly, his eyes searching something from mine. "I don't know the specifics what went on between you two, but it seems that both of you have lost someone you loved. And you might be able to console each other," he continues, a sad smile on his lips.
I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the sharp tug of pain and longing for my brother that are caused by his words. But I can't ignore the feeling of guilt that nags me whenever I think about Harry Potter.
"Yeah," I say with a curt nod. "Maybe I'll write to him."
Hogwarts, November 30th 1996
I stare through the window, at the snow falling slowly outside as I sit in the common room, unable to focus on my Transfiguration essay. Even though I have managed to do more schoolwork during the past few weeks I have ever done, I'm still having a hard time doing it right now, since a group of annoying girls sit at the next table and do nothing but stare at me and…giggle.
"Hey, Harry," Neville says and drops down to sit opposite to me, blocking the girls' view. I can hear them making disappointed noises.
"Neville!" I say and give him a thankful look. Neville frowns as he takes in my wide grin, but then he understands as he glances over his shoulder. "Been dodging some mistletoes lately?" He asks with a smirk.
I narrow my eyes at him. "I swear if I see one more branch hanging in my way, I'll set it on fire," I grunt, feeling frustrated. "I've been late from class three times this week, and I've been lucky that none of those have been DADA, since I know Snape at least won't take any excuses," I continue darkly. And it's not like they're innocent, plain and regular mistletoes. I know for a fact that some of them are actually charmed to keep you in place if you manage to stumble across them, and that the charm breaks only when you kiss the person who placed the charm. Which might be unfortunate if that said person is nowhere around.
Neville chuckles and then clears his throat, sobering up. "Yeah, well. I reckon they just want to get you to invite them to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party…" He says with a shrug.
I let out a groan. "I'm still trying to figure out how to get out of it…" I grumble.
Neville shakes his head with an amused glint in his eyes. "You won't. I heard Slughorn asking Hermione about your schedule…seems like he's planning to get you there."
I sigh and rub my temple, not in the mood to think about Slughorn and his stupid parties. "When did you last see Hermione?" I ask instead, as I've not seen my friend after classes, and not at dinner either.
It is not exactly uncommon, at least in the past couple of weeks. Since…well, since Ron and Lavender hooked up. And now Ron and Hermione are fighting, or, they're not even speaking to each other, so I don't really know what they are anymore.
Hermione doesn't want to stay in the common room when Ron and Lavender are there, and since the couple is mostly glued to each other and into the common room couch, Hermione has been spending all her time at the library when she's not in class.
Neville looks uncomfortable. "Just a while ago, when I was heading back to the tower. She was, um…coming from the girls' bathroom…not looking well," he says quietly, glancing towards the couch in front of the fire, where our friend and his girlfriend are situated, having spent the entire night their lips locked.
I let out a weary sigh. "Yeah…I better go look for her, then…" I mutter and put my schoolwork into my satchel. I give Neville a nod and then make my way towards the portrait hole, pulling the Marauder's Map from my bag to check if she's gone to the library.
Just before I've managed to step outside, the painting swings open, revealing Hermione.
"Oh. Hi, Harry!" She says, a tight smile on her lips as she glances warily into the room. As soon as her eyes stop at the couch, her expression becomes cold.
"I'm actually going to go to my dormitory, so, if you'll excuse me," She says quickly, her voice too high to be normal, even though she tries. I grab her hand, stopping her in her tracks.
"Hermione," I say quietly. "Don't, please? Can't we all just…stop this?" I say helplessly and pull her closer to me so I don't have to raise my voice.
Hermione narrows her eyes at me. "There's nothing to stop, Harry," she says sharply, and glances towards the fireplace again, where Ron and Lavender continue to be oblivious of our presence. "…apparently," she continues with a look of mild disgust as the smacking sounds reach our ears.
I squeeze her hand, trying to get her attention back to me. "Are you mad because they're together? That he's snogging her?" I ask quietly, trying to get confirmation to my suspicions, as she hasn't really said anything of the sort to me.
Hermione scoffs. "Ron can very well snog whomever he wishes!" She hisses to me, "I am not his mother. And as he's clearly forgotten his friends, I think I'm better without him as well!" She whispers furiously, and snatches her hand away, whirling around and storming to the girls' dormitory.
The sight of her striding across the room must've gotten Ron's attention, since he speaks to me, for the first time during this evening. "Hey mate, you going somewhere? It's getting late, so…be careful, eh?" He says with a sly smirk, before returning his attention back to Lavender.
I groan inwardly and decide to call it a night as well. My best friends are fighting, barely speaking to me either, and setting aside the short discussion with Neville today, even my other classmates seem too busy to hang out with me. I've never felt more alone.
Grimmauld Place, December 13th 1996
On Friday night, I'm spending my time in the library when my cousin emerges through the doors.
"Is he hiding in here?" Nymphadora demands as she walks further.
I supress the urge to roll my eyes. "Good evening, cousin," I drawl, making her huff as she walks to the seating area and drops down in an armchair, next to the couch I'm situated on. "Please. Make yourself at home."
Nymphadora gives me a bored look. "As if you aren't here every night, eagerly waiting for someone – well, Remus – to keep you company," She says bitingly.
I lift my brows at her. "Trouble in paradise?" I ask innocently, knowing very well that Lupin has broken off their little…agreement, for some moronic, noble reason. We haven't gone into details, since our conversations usually are only the overall picture of a situation, but even though Lupin hasn't said much about it, I know how to read the rest.
Nymphadora glowers at me, and I lift my hands in surrender, not wanting to end up in the wrong end of her temper. Or her wand. "Fine. Can I offer you some tea?" I ask, more genuinely now.
She lets her head fall back against the armchair and gives a grunt of agreement.
I summon Kreacher and ask it to prepare a light snack and tea. Then I merely listen as my cousin starts to explain exactly what is bothering her.
"I just…I don't know what to do…" She says wearily. "I know, know, how he feels, but…I don't understand it!" She says with a frustrated voice, her eyes closed and her face aimed towards the ceiling.
This isn't the first time she has come here to see me when she's not on guard duty in Hogsmeade, but is the first time she's opening about her relationship with Lupin. I assume she hasn't wanted to bother me with her problems before, or, after the Ministry.
I take a cup of tea from the tray Kreacher has brought us, wishing I'd have Firewhiskey instead, since that would help me bear to listen to the complains that are surely on their way. Because there ought to be plenty of those, knowing how my cousin is, and also…how Lupin is.
It is somewhat strange, how I've somehow managed to get to know these people, my brother's friends, and actually wanted to get to know them. The indifference I once felt towards them has vanished altogether, replaced by…some sort of attachment, I'd say.
My cousin's tirade goes on like I've predicted. After half-an-hour she takes a deep breath and summons a bottle of Firewhiskey from her purse.
I scowl at her. "You had that all this time and you still let me suffer through you whinging without any alcohol?" I ask sullenly as she pours liquor into two tumblers.
She gives me a wry look. "Had to be sure you listen and earn it first," she says simply, and hands me a glass. "Cheers," she says and takes a hefty gulp from her glass.
I follow her lead and relax against the cushions, feeling warmth spreading in me as I sip my drink.
"You do realise how much you resemble your brother?" She says lightly, eyeing the glass in my hand pointedly, a hint of a smirk on her lips.
I give her a slight shrug. "Yes. I know he would've been utterly amused…"
Nymphadora's smile is more wistful than teasing.
"So…you gonna see Harry during the holidays?" She asks abruptly, making me twitch slightly. Her eyes narrow with suspicion.
"Why would I meet him?" I ask stiffly, willing myself to stay disinterested. Why does she ask that? Does she know something? Has she guessed something?
"Just asking," she says, her eyes still watching me carefully. "Heard you guys had some argument over the summer…And now that it's settled that the kids are coming to stay at the Burrow for the Christmas…" she continues simply, a curious look in her eyes.
As if what was discussed in our last Order meeting – about Potter spending his Christmas at Burrow and Mrs. Weasley suggesting we'd all get together over the holidays, and thus making me act like a nervous wreck – didn't make my cousin suspicious.
I clear my throat. "Well, yes. We had." I merely say, looking away.
"Right…" She says quietly, almost knowingly.
I look back at her. "And to answer your question earlier, Lupin is not here. He's on a mission."
She startles, her eyes widen with surprise and worry. "What? Where? Why wasn't this discussed in the last meeting?" She quickly asks, looking disgruntled.
I give her another shrug. "No idea. Came up after that, I suppose," I merely say. I do know where Lupin is, since he told me about the mission himself, but he also asked me not to reveal the information to my cousin. I understand it is a somewhat dangerous task he intends to accomplish; trying to infiltrate a pack of werewolves in the west, trying to gain their trust so that he'd be able to hear any news regarding the Dark Lord and possibly persuade the werewolves to our side.
And when she looks at me as she now does, with a mix of concern and annoyance and torment in her features, I understand Lupin.
And she understands where he's gone.
Hogwarts, December 19th 1996
"Hey Mione," I say as I drop down to sit opposite to her in the library. A shushing sound carries through the quiet place, somewhere behind the shelves, and Hermione gives me a pointed look.
I shrug sheepishly, making room for my books and schoolwork at the table, piling up her books in a neat stack as she focuses on her Charms essay.
Christmas is approaching with a full force, and there's only two days, well, only one day of school left before we board the train and head towards Burrow for the holidays. At least I hope we'll all be there.
"Hermione…" I say tentatively as she finishes her essay with a final dot and flicks her wand to the parchment to clean the smudges, making the ink dry faster.
"Hmm?" She hums distractedly, and then glances at me. "Oh. No." She merely says dismissively, knowing exactly what I'm going to ask.
"Please, just…come with us, yeah?" I ask, feeling a bit desperate as she only gives me a stern look. "You don't even have to hang out with him, I mean, I'm there…Ginny's there, the twins, I reckon even Lupin and Tonks…"
Hermione lets out a deep sigh. "Harry…You don't understand."
I shake my head slowly at her. "Yeah, I do. You obviously liked him. But now you can't even be in the same room with him…" I say resignedly.
Hermione frowns and looks away, hurt flashing in her eyes. "I've made my decision. I already told my parents I'll be with them, and we're probably going to see relatives and…" She says, her words ending up with another sigh.
There's a short silence.
"You know, Harry, you should be careful. Apparently, Romilda Vane and her brainless friends are planning to slip you some Love Potion," she suddenly says, as if remembering it, and proceeds to explain how she overheard them in the girls' bathroom.
I let out a scoff. "I'd like to see them try," I grumble. "And if you were there, why didn't you confiscate the potions?" I ask exasperatedly, feeling irritated again.
Hermione rolls her eyes. "They obviously didn't have the potions with them. I'm just warning you. You should take someone to the party, Harry…I think that would get them off of your back for a while," she says, her voice gentle even though her eyes show how frustrated she is.
"Yeah, well. There's no one I…" I mutter, my voice trailing off when a black-haired boy with grey intense eyes pop into my mind. I rub the bridge of my nose, shrugging off my thoughts.
"I don't suppose we could go together?" I ask with a small cringe, remembering how annoyed Hermione was in our fourth year when Ron asked her the last minute.
Instead she gives me an embarrassed grimace. "I, uh…I might've asked McLaggen already."
"What?!" I ask loudly, and give her an incredulous look.
Hermione shrugs awkwardly.
I haven't got any time to press further information as Madam Pince stalks around the bookshelf and orders us out since it is near closing time and we are making too much noise, disturbing her precious books. But I know I'm sure as hell not going to let this one slide.