A Constellation’s Just a Picture in the Sky (6/7)

[starfishstar]

A CONSTELLATION'S JUST A PICTURE IN THE SKY

Summary: There’s a war on and all is not easy for the young members of the Order of the Phoenix, but Remus – nineteen, in love and sharing a flat with Sirius – is happier than he ever thought it possible to be. …Until one morning a knock at their door heralds an unexpected visitor from Sirius’ past, begging help with a desperate mission.


CHAPTER SIX

The little boat slipped away from the bank without a sound. Stiffly facing each other within its cramped confines, framed in its ghostly green glow, Sirius and Regulus looked eerily alike. Two heads of dark hair, though Regulus’ was cropped shorter, two striking silhouettes with sharply defined features and high cheekbones. Remus was so used to thinking of Sirius and his brother as opposites that it was startling to see them side by side, alike after all.

Neither of the brothers spoke, as the boat made its strange crossing to the green-glowing island, cutting through the dark water without a splash. The island was closer to the shore here than it had been from the cave’s entrance, though it was still little more than a faraway green glow. The air was still and smelled of cold, damp things.

For many minutes Remus waited, tense, straining to hear any sign of their progress as the boat slipped smoothly away into the endless darkness and beyond Remus’ sight.

Finally, he heard the scuffle of their steps as Sirius and Regulus disembarked onto the rock island, the sound carrying clearly across the unnaturally still water. Their shapes were no more than a slight disturbance of the misty phosphorescent glow at the centre of the lake, but snippets of terse conversation drifted across the water to Remus – “…that it?” “…have to drink the potion, because…”

Then Sirius’ voice, unmistakeably loud and angry. “Are you fucking insane? I’m not letting you drink that.”

Remus’ body tensed.

Scrabbling sounds reverberated across the lake, as if Sirius were attempting to attack the basin bodily or throw spells at it, trying to charm away the potion it held. Over the noise, Regulus’ voice said, increasingly irritated, “I told you, the only way is to drink it. Why do you always fucking think you know better?”

There was a pause, with only the sound of Sirius breathing hard.

Then Regulus said, a little more quietly, “Look, I brought a goblet. It’s not a big deal. I came here prepared to drink it, and I’ll drink it.”

“No.” All Sirius’ passion was in that word, all the fire and fervour Remus adored in him. “No, Regulus. Give it to me.”

The silence then felt endless. Remus couldn’t see to know what they were doing, what their expressions might tell him if he could see. He could only wait, arms clenched tight.

Regulus’ voice came at last, strange and subdued, like nothing Remus had ever heard from him. “Here,” he said. “Take it.”

Then stillness returned. Remus fancied he heard the soft splash of a goblet dipping into a basin of liquid, though surely such a sound wouldn’t carry across the vast expanse of the lake.

When Regulus spoke again, his voice was high and hesitant. “Kreacher said – the potion makes you –”

Sirius cut harshly across him. “Don’t warn me. I’d rather not know.”

Silence. Sirius must be drinking the potion, whatever it might be. Remus’ stomach clenched in sympathetic pain.

Out of the silence, Regulus’ voice wafted across the water again, hushed and horrified. “That’s…that’s good, Sirius. See? The potion’s getting lower in the basin. Just…just keep going.”

Remus swore he could hear every ragged breath Sirius drew, imagined he heard Sirius’ gulps and harrowing swallows.

Then Sirius gasped, “Regulus.”

Regulus answered immediately. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“Regulus,” Sirius repeated. Even at this distance, Remus could hear so much pain in his voice. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Regulus’ voice quavered. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“It’s all my fault. I should never have left. I’m so sorry.”

Now the wobble in Regulus’ voice was unmistakeable. “Don’t apologise, you idiot. You don’t have to apologise for anything. Just…just drink, get it over faster. Here.”

A goblet full of the liquid evidently changed hands; Sirius drank and moaned.

“That’s good,” Regulus whispered, his voice agonised. “Keep going, that’s great.”

“Make it stop!” Sirius screamed. Something clattered and rolled, before coming to an abrupt stop – the goblet must have fallen, and Regulus had scooped it up. Remus was shivering now with the pain of hearing Sirius suffer, of hearing his wails roll out across the dark expanse of water. “Oh, please, make it stop,” Sirius groaned. “I’ll do anything.”

Regulus’ voice was taut with horror as he said, “Here, drink this, do it quickly and it’ll be over soon. Look, that’s more than half of it already, isn’t that good?”

Sirius drank, and moaned, “Forgive me.” Remus had never heard such wretchedness in his voice.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Regulus answered brokenly. “Sirius –”

“I left you there with them.” Sirius’ voice seemed to be growing fainter. “All those – all those constellations, all those fucking…lines and stars, stupid fucking pictures, tying people together, and you try to get away, and you can’t, and I thought I’d got away, but how could I do that, how could I leave you –”

“Don’t talk,” Regulus pleaded. “Why don’t you – don’t talk, don’t say anything, just drink this, look, you’re almost done –”

Sirius drank, and screamed raggedly. He panted for breath. “Just kill me,” he rasped, his voice horrible. “I don’t deserve to live. Why didn’t they kill me, then, when I left, and have done with it?”

Regulus’ voice trembled. “You can – you can stop, you know. I’ll do the rest. Let me take the –”

“No!” Sirius shouted in his hoarse voice. “Give it to me. Let me drink. Let it kill me.” Silence, then more horrendous coughing; Sirius had drunk the next goblet.

“Here,” Regulus whispered, his voice little more than a flutter under Sirius’ heart-rending moans, and Sirius must have drunk yet again.

“Remus,” Sirius said suddenly, very clearly, and all the hairs on Remus’ arms stood up.

He almost called out to Sirius, but made himself stay silent, clenching his arms around himself. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t make this ordeal worse? What if he caused Sirius further danger, what if Sirius plunged into the icy lake, pursuing the sound of his voice? Remus had never felt so helpless, not even as a werewolf, with the moon tearing his body apart. At least when he transformed, Remus was the only one who had to suffer.

“Remus,” Sirius said again, in a whisper. “I was so selfish. That night –”

Remus knew at once what night Sirius meant. His whole body shuddered, and it was as if he were in the Shrieking Shack again, a wolf out of his mind, with the irresistible scent of an innocent human approaching along the passageway under the willow.

Sirius had done that. He’d sent the wolf an unwitting victim with no more thought than he’d given to any of their other schoolboy pranks.

Sirius had been so breathtakingly cruel, not caring about anything but his own whims.

“Oh, god, oh, god,” Sirius rasped, from far across the water. “I almost – I could have – Remus, I almost destroyed everything.”

It was all tangled up in Remus’ body, somehow, Sirius’ moans of pain across the lake were his own howls of frustration that night in the Shrieking Shack, as the human in the passageway approached so close the wolf could almost taste him – and then was yanked away again beyond the wolf’s reach.

Sirius was moaning on the island with a goblet full of poison, and at the same time the sound was James’ voice, soberly relating at Remus’ hospital wing bedside what Sirius had done in the night.

It was the churning in Remus’ gut as he decided he was never speaking to Sirius again.

And it was Sirius’ miserable sidelong glances, his whispered promises of penance through all those long months, until finally they came first to an uneasy detente, then a fragile peace, then at last began to build up a new and better friendship from the ashes of the old.

And somehow that long and difficult road had brought them here, to the point where Sirius was to Remus like breathing, and the sounds of Sirius’ agony far across the dark lake felt like Remus’ own heart was being ripped to shreds. He could not survive without Sirius. He didn’t know how he’d ever thought he could.

“Remus!” Sirius gasped, across the water. “I don’t deserve it – forgive me – I don’t deserve you.”

The pull of Sirius’ pain had brought Remus to the very edge of the lake, his toes almost touching the line of the black water. Hugging his own chest, gasping with vicarious agony, Remus struggled to get in one good, full breath, then breathed it back out and forcefully let it all go, the last lingering resentment at what Sirius had done. It was over now. It was the past. Remus whispered as quietly as he could into the clammy, still air, “I forgive you, Padfoot.”

A scraping, clanging sound; Sirius must have plunged the goblet into the basin himself, and scooped up more of the vile potion.

“You’re almost there,” Regulus’ voice wavered, as the clanging ended and Sirius drank.

Sirius coughed and groaned, then cried out, sudden and sharp, “Oh, fuck – oh, fuck, it’s burning, make it stop –”

“Here, drink this,” Regulus gasped, and Remus could hear in his voice that Regulus was crying. Then he reached numb hands up to feel his own face, and knew he was crying, too.

Sirius screamed.

“You’ve almost got it!” Regulus shouted over him. “Look, you’ve almost done it, I can almost reach the Horcrux, one more will do it –”

Then came the horrible, heavy thud of dead weight hitting the ground.

“Sirius!” Regulus screamed. “Get up, wake up, Sirius!”

Remus could hear Regulus slapping Sirius’ face. Remus paced frantically along the rocky bank. There had to be some way he could get to Sirius, he would plunge right into the dark water and swim to the island if he had to. He would do it, no matter the consequences, no matter what lurked in that water, if Sirius didn’t answer, very soon. If Sirius – if anything happened to Sirius –

There was a rattling cough, then another scream. “OH, GOD, I WANT TO DIE!” Sirius raged in his torn-apart voice. “I don’t deserve to live, I’ve failed everyone I cared about, please, please, let me die.” And then again he screamed, “Remus!”

Tears of impotent anguish rolled down Remus’ face. He couldn’t stay here on the wrong side of the water when Sirius called out to him like that.

Regulus, too, was sobbing. “Just one more, Sirius, please, then I can get you out of here. Please, please, drink one more time.”

There was a rustling as Regulus stood, then a scraping as the goblet hit the bottom of the basin, each unseen action painfully clear by its sound. Another rustle as Regulus knelt again, perhaps propping up his brother’s head so he could drink.

“Please,” Regulus whispered brokenly. “It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you, Sirius, I promise.”

Then there was an unnatural stillness.

Regulus’ voice came again, terrified and exhausted and awed. “You did it. Sirius, look. The locket.”

Sirius rasped, almost inaudible, “Water. I’m dying – I need – please, water.”

“There isn’t any –”

“Please –” Sirius’ voice had almost completely faded.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll – oh, God, Sirius, don’t die –”

There was a faint splash and then all at once the lake was roiling with pale, flailing forms, the still, black lake no longer still or black, every inch of it now a turmoil of ghostly limbs.

Inferi.

“Incendio!” Remus screamed, his wand in his hand without even having to think. Red flame burst from the tip of his wand, a great ring of it, driving back the Inferi nearest to him. “Incendio!” Remus cried again, putting more force into it than any spell he’d ever cast, driving his fire as far out over the water as he could, sending it towards Sirius and Regulus in the middle of the hostile lake as the only protection he could offer.

For interminable minutes Remus fought, pouring every ounce of his strength into his Fire Spell, willing it to reach Sirius and Regulus and keep them safe. He was so absorbed in the work that it took a moment before he registered another sound over the crackle of the flames – the clinking of the chain that drew the boat, coiling itself into a growing pile of surplus length at Remus’ feet. The boat was returning from the island.

The steady green glow of the little boat met the wild, dancing red of Remus’ fire, sparks shooting into the air at the point of contact. Inside the boat, Regulus was screaming a counter-charm to pass safely through the ring of fire. Then the boat nudged the bank and Regulus leapt out, something small and golden clutched in his right hand. Remus’ body moved of its own volition, springing forward to help Regulus pull Sirius’ inert form from the bottom of the boat, onto the cold rock of the shore.

Sudden and without a sound, the boat slid away under the surface of the water. The Inferi were gone. The lake was as smooth as glass once more.

The sudden silence screamed in Remus’ ears, adrenalin burning under his skin, his body quivering in a fever pitch of terror.

He dropped to his knees on the hard rock and threw himself on Sirius’ body, his hands feeling frantically for a pulse, a breath. Sirius’ skin was icy cold. At Remus’ side, Regulus was crying in fear, gasping out wracking sobs that seemed to fill the whole vastness of the cave.

There – the pulse at Sirius’ neck fluttered under Remus’ fingers. Remus gasped in relief and pressed his body against Sirius’ chest, desperate to warm him with his own body heat. “We have to get him to St Mungo’s,” he heard himself say.

Regulus was still sobbing hysterically, clutching blindly for Sirius’ hand. “Is he dead?”

Remus’ arms around Sirius clenched tighter. “What? No! He’s alive, but he needs a Healer. This is more than I know how to make right. I have to get him to St Mungo’s.”

“You can’t take him there! What will we tell them when they ask questions? Nobody else can know about this, it’s too dangerous!”

Remus kept one hand resting protectively over the faint but reassuring beat of Sirius’ heart as he straightened up to stare at Regulus. “I don’t care about any of that. I’m taking Sirius to St Mungo’s, no matter what.”

Regulus’ eyes were wide with panic, as they had been what seemed lifetimes ago, the first time they’d mentioned the Order of the Phoenix in the Black Family crypt. “You can’t. I’m his brother, I say you can’t!”

Remus continued to stare at Regulus. He felt his own heart beat in his chest once, and again, and again. “Yes,” he said at last, very softly, but utterly sure. “You’re his brother. But I’m the man who loves him, and I’m not letting Sirius die.”

Regulus stared back. There was so much in his eyes – grief? Regret? Ghosts of all the pleasant brotherly moments he and Sirius had never shared? Remus didn’t know him well enough to read it all.

Then Regulus dropped his gaze to his own hand. He unfurled his fingers, to reveal what lay protected there in his palm. “I can feel how evil it is,” Regulus whispered. “I can feel it reaching out from inside there, trying to pull me in.” He looked up at Remus, clear-eyed now. “I’ll take it, and destroy it. And…you’ll look after Sirius, won’t you?”

Remus could feel Sirius’ heart beating under his hand as he met Regulus’ eyes. Remus swallowed thickly, all the emotion and fear of the night crushing down on him at once, now that there was time to stop and feel. “Yes,” he said. “Of course. I’m going to keep him safe.”

Regulus nodded once, resolute, and closed his fingers carefully back around the Horcrux. Remus could see a faint light emanating from it, pulsing out from within Regulus’ hand. Regulus stowed the locket securely inside his robes and when he withdrew his hand again, it held a folded bit of parchment in place of the Horcrux.

“This is for Sirius,” he said, placing it in Remus’ free hand. “Make sure he gets it, okay?”

Remus looked at the note in his hand and nodded.

Then together they stood, to carry Sirius out of the cave and to safety.

(Continue to the final chapter, CHAPTER SEVEN)