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A Traitor


James and Remus were waiting in the entrance hall for Peter to get back, whispering quietly, trying to figure out where Sirius could be, when Maryrose Jenkins approached them. She looked pale and nervous. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Um… Regulus left a few minutes ago to go down to the docks to meet you up.” She stared at James meaningfully.

She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to do this. Completely mental, she’d thought when James had tried to explain to her why he needed her to do it. But if it would help Regulus get his brother back… she would do whatever it was. And James had made it sound as though finding out what Regulus wanted of Sirius so that Sirius would talk to Regulus again was the main purpose of their meeting. He’d entirely left out the part about getting information on Severus Snape.

James slapped his forehead, “Of course he is. Bloody hell I forgot.” He looked at Remus. “I gotta go see Regulus. You know how important this is.” His voice lilted with meaning. After all, it was imperative that he learn what was going on with Severus Snape - to find out what power Snape had that Regulus Black knew about. After all, it was Remus that was most endangered by Snape being able to read minds.

Remus nodded, “Yeah, I know. Go on. I’m sure Sirius is fine. You know him, he pitches fits and does his thing and before you know it he’s alright again… Wherever he’s at, he’s probably plotting the next great prank. Pete and I will find him as soon as Peter gets back here with the map.”

James nodded. Remus was probably right, he figured. Sirius really was one of the most dramatic people James had ever met - and his “I’ll catch you guys up and we’ll do whatever prank Sirius has planned.” He grinned and winked as he patted Remus’s back, “I’m glad Pomfrey could fix your knee this time, mate.”

“Me, too,” Rey answered.

James turned to Maryrose, “C’mon, let’s go.” They said bye to Remus and they hurried across the Great Hall to the stairs that led down into the dungeons.

Remus waited for what felt like forever. He couldn’t help but suspect that it would’ve been faster for he himself to go up to the dormitory, even with his blasted knee, than it was for Peter to! Finally, after at least ten minutes had passed, Peter came wheezing into the entrance hall, tripping on his robes on the staircase. A couple Ravenclaw girls giggled at him as he nearly took a nose-dive, only just barely catching the bannister before he went down. He skid to a halt before Remus.

“He’s - he’s on the - in the -” Peter was wheezing too hard and he thrust the parchment into Remus’s hands and turned toward the door that led into the boat docks.

Remus’s eyes skimmed the parchment, spotting Sirius almost immediately, and he caught him by the neck of the robes, stopping him. “Oh no,” he whispered. “Of all the places he could go. Why there?”

“It’s quiet down there, nobody ever goes down there,” Peter suggested.

“Yes, exactly. Exactly why it’s a lovely spot for a meeting. A very secret meeting.” Remus jabbed his finger at the Map again for Peter to see. There was Sirius on the stairs… and on the docks themselves, mere feet away… were three more dots.

Maryrose Jenkins, James Potter, and Regulus Black.




Sirius lay on the stairs, shivering, and subconsciously spinning the heavy gold band Remus had given him ‘round his finger, drifting between sleep and wake. It was the cold that made him decide to move, and he opened his eyes.. it took him a moment to orient himself to his surroundings. The stone walls and ceiling were so foreign, not at all the thick burgundy bed curtains he’d expected when he opened them. His hand moved from the gash he’d made across his chest, the blood dried and crusted against his skin and palm. He stared down at it and his stomach turned. What had he done?

Carefully he sat up and winced at the pain as he moved the wound. It reopened a little and a bit of blood oozed beneath the scabbing starting there already. He reached a shaky hand for his wand and cleared his throat aiming the tip of it at himself and muttering the incantation for bandages. They came out weakly, but enough to cover the wound at least. He’d need somebody to bandage him up better. He’d ask James, he decided.

He pressed his sloppy bandaging down with his palm again as he struggled to sit up. He felt drained, empty, and still lost.

What time is it? he wondered. There in the underground cavern it could be any time at all - day or night - and it would look the same. Though he was fairly certain the light reflecting off the water at the mouth of the cavern there on the water was the sun and not the moon. They’ll be wondering where I am, he thought.

The door far below opened with a creak and Sirius went still as the sound of the hinges echoed through the cavernous room. He could hear footsteps below across the stone and then on the wood of the docks and the steps stopped, whoever it was below was waiting… Sirius was afraid if he moved he would bring attention to himself, so he did all but hold his breath, clutching the bandage tighter to his skin with one hand, spinning the ring even more frantically with the other.

The door opened again below and two more sets of footsteps echoed across the room and Sirius closed his eyes, imagining himself to be made of stone. What was he about to be a witness to? He was sure it couldn’t be any good, whatever it was... After all, who would meet here, and why, if not for some dark purpose? It had to be something terrible.

“You came.”

It was Regulus’s voice.

Sirius’s heart rate doubled.

“Of course we came.”

Sirius opened his eyes in shock.

He knew that voice. Knew that voice very well, in fact.

James?

What the bloody hell were James and Regulus doing meeting here? Why was James meeting with Regulus at all? Sirius felt as though the knife had gone a bit deeper than he’d pushed it himself - and in from the back - plunged in by James Potter.

Not wanting to believe that James Potter would betray him like this until he saw it with his own eyes, he pulled himself to his feet, clutching onto his chest still, and looked over the stone edge of the stairwell to where Regulus and James stood. There was a third person there, too, but they were back-to him and he couldn’t tell who the third one was. Who the hell was that? He squinted through the dark…

Well, it looked like -- well, himself. But of course, obviously, it couldn’t be… after all, he was himself and he was right there. Unless this was like some sort of weird out of body experience thing… or perhaps this was some sort of terrible nightmare and he’d wake up again and it would all be okay. He’d be under those curtains for real this time and there would be no cut across his chest, the blood would be gone, the dementor in his chest would be cast away…

“Sirius, I’m - I’m so glad you’re here, I’m --” Regulus started, but James’s voice cut him off.

“Mate, Sirius is here so I did my part, you gotta tell us about Severus Snape.”

Of course, Sirius thought. Bloody James and his bloody vendetta against Snape. Of course that’s what would make him do this.

But how did he do it? Who was that down there pretending to be him if even Regulus, his own brother, was fooled by the disguise? Certainly not Peter in a wig or anything like that!

Regulus drew a deep breath and he said, “He’s a legilimens. It’s a sort of… of a mind accessor. Not like mind reading exactly, more like a vision of the thoughts and stuff. He’s brilliant at it, though. Always had it, he says. Says he taught the Dark Lord how to do it, but I think that’s an exaggeration a bit… Dunno though. But he’s good, he’s real good, and he really can see what you’re thinking. Like detailed. He picks at people’s brains all the time. The only way to keep him out is with occlumency. Nobody knows about it but a few people. Me, for one, and the Dark Lord and a couple Death Eaters. Lily Evans.”

“Lily Evans knows he can read minds?” James asked.

“Yes,” Regulus answered.

“Is Snape a Death Eater?” James asked.

“Not yet. The Dark Lord won’t take anyone who’s under sixteen, but Severus has been practically one since he was eleven,” Regulus answered, “It’s only a matter of time now that he’s turned sixteen.”

Sirius was shaking. He lowered himself so the stone bannister was holding him up and he held his hand to his wound.

“Are you going to be a Death Eater?” James questioned.

“One day, I suppose I will,” Regulus said, though his voice was a bit unsteady. “I - I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice,” James answered.

“They’ll kill me if I don’t.”

“Better dead and right than alive and wrong,” James said strongly.

Regulus’s voice shook, “I’m not as brave as you lot.”

James didn’t say anything in return to this.

“Sirius,” Regulus turned to the third figure. “I didn’t think you’d come - after… after yesterday… with the patronus… I - I’m so glad you did, though. I’ve wanted to talk to you for… for ages…”

“Why didn’t you before now?” James demanded.

“I didn’t dare to,” Regulus replied.

“Why?” James asked.

“Because of Snape. Because of the others. Mulciber and McNair and Avery and them. All Death Eaters in the making. Avery got branded with the Mark over holiday, even.”

“What’s that got to do with Sirius?”

“The Slytherins hate Sirius Black,” whispered Regulus. “A good deal of them hate me, too.”

“What did you want from Sirius?” James asked.

Regulus was quiet a moment and Sirius looked back over the rail to see he’d taken Pseudo-Sirius’s hands in his own and was staring up at whoever that was down there with wide, pleading eyes. “I need help. I need your help.”

“With what?” James asked.

Regulus looked at James, then back at the Pseudo-Sirius. “There’s - there’s this thing going on, it’s… it’s huge, it’s horrible… and… and I need help to fix it, to make things right.”

“To make what things right, what’s happening?” James asked.

But Regulus’s eyes narrowed when, again, James spoke for Sirius instead of letting him speak for himself. “Hang on. Siri… why aren’t you talking?” Regulus’s voice was suddenly quite suspicious sounding.

“He has a sore throat,” James said quickly.

Regulus dropped the hands he held. “No he didn’t yesterday.”

“Newly developed,” lied James.

Regulus shook his head. “You’re not Sirius. You’re faking me.” He looked at James, “You’re faking me.”

“I’m not faking you.”

“THEN SAY SOMETHING,” he commanded Sirius. “SAY SOMETHING RIGHT NOW -- I COMMAND YOU TO SAY SOMETHING!” He said this last bit in an imperial Black tone, like he was speaking to Kreacher or something.

James’s face was one of worry.

Sirius drew all his strength and tugged his leather jacket closed to hide the gash across his chest. “Don’t you take that tone of voice with me, you little bastard.”

All three faces below turned to look up at Sirius Black - the real Sirius Black. Sirius drew a deep breath to keep his face steady as he walked down the stairs, zipping his jacket as he went, tucking the end of his Return to Remus Lupin shirt into his back jeans pocket, and he walked over to where the Pseudo-Sirius, James, and Regulus were standing. He looked Pseudo-Sirius over a moment, then his eyes met James’s. James blushed, hard, and he looked down, away from Sirius. Sirius turned to his brother. “You can’t command me like you do your filthy little house elf.”

Regulus looked from the fake Sirius to the real one with confusion, then he asked, “If you’re -- then who’s --”

“None of your business,” replied Sirius, since he didn’t know either. “I knew the only thing you wanted me for was something you needed help with. I’m sure it’s real dark, too, some plot of the Dark Lord’s and you’re thinking you’re sooo brilliant, that I’m going to fall for it and go running off to solve your problems and you’ll call the Dark Lord and he’ll come and get me and oh aren’t you so wonderful Regulus! But no. No. You’ll need to be finding someone else who wants play on your twisted little games.”

“It isn’t like that, Siri,” begged Regulus, “Hear me out. I know something - something big - and --”

“C’mon James, I’ve heard enough.”

“SIRIUS, THE MINISTER’S GRANDDAUGHTER IS AT OUR HOUSE! MOTHER HAS HER! SHE’S HAD HER ALL ALONG! THE ONE MINCHUM’S GOT IS A FAKE!”

Sirius froze. James stared between Regulus and Sirius and back over his shoulder at the Pseudo-Sirius.

“You’re lying,” Sirius said to Regulus. “The Minchum girl’s been back at home for over a month.”

“And Minchum’s been bloody mental ever since, yeah?”

James looked at Sirius.

Sirius shook his head, “Horseshit,” he said.

“Not horseshit,” Regulus argued, “Mother has her. Kreacher told me at Christmas.”

“Kreacher’s full of shit then. You’re trying to get me to go to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There’s still a bounty on my head from the Dark Lord, isn’t there? Fancy yourself gettin’ rich, betraying your brother, do you?” Sirius pointed at Regulus, “Well fuck off, Reg.”

Regulus panicked, “But Sirius, I’m not lying. I’m not full of shit. I - I’m telling the truth. I need - I need help to - to be brave - to save her - and -- and I thought -- I thought you -- You always… Sirius… Sirius please.” He grabbed onto Sirius’s arm, spinning him quickly back toward him, which made Sirius wince - a pain shooting across his chest as he turned too fast and he clutched at the jacket, pressing the bandage down again, catching his breath.

James gave Sirius an imploring stare. “Maybe… maybe if he could prove it.”

Sirius thought about it a moment. He was a bit dizzy from the wound again now, and he was afraid he might be bleeding again and he wanted desperately to get out of there before something terrible happened like he passed out or else started crying from the pain and the darkness that was still undulating deep inside him.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll prove it to you,” Regulus pleaded. “I’ll prove it.”

Sirius turned away quickly, “Fine. Prove it to me then.” And he started for the stairs he’d come down, headed for the entrance hall, shaking in the knees.

“How? How shall I prove it?” Regulus called.

“Dunno, just do it,” Sirius snapped, not having the time nor the placement of mind to think something up just yet. James turned and hurried after him, trying to get Pseudo-Sirius to follow but with a shake of the head, the Pseudo-Sirius stayed with Regulus, so James left and hustled after Sirius.

They stepped out into the Great Hall and there were Peter and Remus waiting for them, Remus clutching the Map with wide eyes, and Peter jumping back from the door as they busted through. Sirius looked at Peter, then at Remus, at the Map, at James, and back to Remus, then turned and started for the stairs.

“Wait,” James called, “We need to talk about what’s just happened.”

“Leave me alone,” Sirius snapped.

“Sirius, c’mon,” Remus tried, “Let’s talk. It’s important. We’ll go up to the dorm and we’ll --”

“I’m not going to the dorm.”

“Sirius, please!” Peter squeaked. Even though he’d had so little to do with any of it, he still felt terrible about what happened. “Please!”

Sirius turned around - again, too quick - and the dizziness doubled and he wobbled, catching himself on the bannister. “Fuck all of you,” he said darkly. And he reached for the ring on his finger. “Take this back,” he added, throwing it at Remus’s chest. “I don’t want to be loved by a traitor.” Remus scrambled to catch the ring as it hit him. “That’s what the lot of you are!” And he turned again and stumbled up the steps…

Remus stared at the ring in his hands, the breath taken out of him.

“Sirius --” James started, but Sirius was marching away…

Marching away for all of three steps.

And then he stumbled and collapsed.