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Fiddlefaddle


There was something about the way Regulus’s voice lilted with urgency that made Sirius Black follow after his younger brother. He spared a glance to see to it that Moony was helping James up from the ground and he bolted after Regulus, ducking ‘round the butterbeer cart peddler and ‘round a witch selling enchanted flowers from a basket. Regulus was already quite a ways ahead in the crowded street, and Sirius jogged after him, his breath causing great clouds in the air before him as he moved. Regulus moved with purpose and speed, as though wishing to get away, to leave something behind, and Sirius had to push through clusters of witches and wizards to keep up, his stride shorter than his brother’s… and he wondered fleetingly when it had been that little Regulus had grown so tall.

They reached the Leaky Cauldron and Sirius finally caught up with Regulus at the brick archway into the pub and they stood, breathless, facing one another as the bricks rearranged to allow them passage through. “What’s going on, Reg?” Sirius asked.

Regulus looked back the way they’d come. “Not yet. Not here. Too many eyes, too many ears.” And Regulus squished himself through the still parting bricks, which had parted only just wide enough for him to move through.

Sirius leaped after him, nearly slipping on a puddle of spilled drink in the door.

The air in the Leaky Cauldron smelled of firewhiskey and dust, and Tom, the bartender, looked up as the two teenagers slipped past. Sirius nodded at him as Tom absently wiped the counter with an old rag, and watched as the two brothers went up the stairs together and disappeared into the hall above.

Regulus drew a room key halfway along the corridor, and he opened a door marked with a number 4 and pushed his way into the room, pausing only briefly in the frame to wait for Sirius to follow, and closing it firmly behind them as Sirius stepped past him into the room.

Maryrose Jenkins sat reading in the firelight, curled up with a blanket over her knees. She looked up when they entered and dropped her book onto the table at her elbow, her hair a pale blonde and eyes a bright blue. “Hi Sirius,” she greeted him. “Hey Regulus.”

There was something in her voice at the way she said Regulus that almost trembled.

Sirius recognized it because his voice often lilted that very same way over the name Remus.

“Hullo…” Sirius said, looking from Maryrose to Regulus with a sort of suspicious glance.

Regulus pointed to a chair, offering Sirius a seat, and Sirius shook his head. “Tea?” Maryrose offered, but again Sirius shook his head.

“Honestly, I’d rather just hear what you’ve got to say and be on my way,” Sirius said, looking at Regulus.

Regulus looked to Maryrose, who nodded encouragingly, and then back to Sirius, determination in his eye. “Look, Sirius, you’re not going to believe me, I already know you won’t - not yet, at least - so I’m not going to play at pretending you are.” He took a deep breath, “But I do hope that what I say will… dunno, sort of stick with you so that you’ll see it soon, on your own, and remember what I said.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, already skeptical.

Regulus stared at his brother rather pleadingly. “Have you noticed anything rather odd about James Potter lately?”

Sirius had.

Of course he had.

James Potter was his best mate. He knew everything about him, nearly - and perhaps even more so - as much as he knew Remus. James Potter was his real brother, his second half. James Potter and Sirius Black often made the same faces at the same time, could practically read one another’s minds, could finish each other’s sentences. Sirius could do a spot-on impression of all of James Potter’s mannerisms - from his sneeze to the way he sort of scratched his chin with his quill feather tip while concentrating at a test. Often, he’d entertained Remus on long moon nights with his impressions of their friends and though his Peter Pettigrew impression was not lacking in quality, there was just nothing quite like how bloody perfect his James Potter was.

Because he knew everything there was to know about the guy.

And yes, James Potter had been acting rather odd… but for some time now, really. Ever since last term, the Hogsmeade weekend in April. He’d progressively gotten odder and odder, but then things had been happening to him, too, things like nearly losing his dad, losing his house, and losing his crush on Lily Evans…

But yes, too, James had been at his oddest lately.

Since the start of holiday.

Sirius shrugged, not ready to commit to anything Regulus said - particularly after that introduction he’d given. “James is James,” he said.

Regulus asked, “But what if he’s not?”

Sirius laughed, nervously. “What?”

“James isn’t James, Sirius,” Regulus said darkly. “It’s a fake James. A Polyjuice James, if you will…”

“That sounds like a bloody Broomstick Boys song,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes, but even if he wouldn’t have admitted it - his heart rate picked up just a little bit. “Stop bloody joking about. Did you seriously drag me all the way here just to tell me fiddlefaddle about polyjuice you’ve just made up?”

“No,,” Regulus said quickly, “It isn’t just fiddlefaddle, Sirius, it’s true. That imposter you’ve been hanging about with isn’t the real James Potter. The real James Potter’s with the Dark Lord somewhere, being tortured for information... Information that I know for a fact that he doesn’t have.”

Sirius forced himself a chuckle. Even the thought of Voldemort torturing James gave him the chills and turned his stomach.

James Potter will die at the hand of the Dark Lord, Mopsus’s voice echoed in his head.

“You’re full of shit, Reg,” muttered Sirius.

“I knew you’d say that. And… and yeah, maybe I am full of shit and I’m just trying to yank you on or something...” Regulus said, “But what if I’m not? What if I’m telling you the truth? What if I’m right and you’re so caught up in Severus Snape’s lie --”

“Snape? What’s that twatwaffle got to do with this?” Sirius hissed.

“-- that you can’t see it, and meanwhile, somewhere out there, your best friend’s being tortured, Sirius?” Regulus continued.

Sirius glared at Regulus, his jaw set in anger that he would suggest that he, Sirius Black, couldn’t tell the difference between Severus Snape and James Potter!

Regulus’s voice was persistent. “He’s real good at torture curses, Sirius. He’s driven people mad with his cruciatus curse. I’ve seen it. Seen his wand electrocute a girl with it until she’d lost her mind and all that was left of her was madness…”

Sirius’s eyes searched Regulus’s, hoping to find some sign that he was making this all up.

“James will go mad, too, if he’s left there too long,” Regulus whispered.

Sirius felt chills in his spine.

“Or he’ll kill him,” Regulus said, “And that would be the merciful thing to do.”

Sirius’s face was pale.

“Are you sure enough that it’s him so as to risk James Potter’s life, Sirius?”

Sirius stared warily at Regulus, his expression clear that he didn’t believe his brother.

“Just… think on it,” Regulus said. “We’ll be here. Come and get us when you’re ready.”

Sirius hesitated a moment more, then he turned and left the room, walking just as swiftly as they had when they’d left the butterbeer cart to come here to this dusty, dark little inn room. He balled his fists and jabbed them into the deep pockets of his leather jacket, trying to dodge off from the cold. He ran past Tom the bartender faster than he’d ever done before, tapping the bricks in their sequence and running out into Diagon Alley once again, leaving the inn behind him.

The nerve, Sirius told himself as he ran, ducking about, dodging customers and peddlers ‘til he found Remus Lupin and James Potter, looking for him, too. “There you are!” Remus said, sighing in relief, “We’ve been looking everywhere for y ---”

He stopped mid sentence as Sirius Black pushed past him, roughly grabbing James Potter by the neck of his shirt and pushing him against the glass window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, drawing his wand and aiming it to James’s throat. He stared into his eyes, past the thick frames of his glasses... “When I came to your house the first time ever. We did something together that night that we could never undo.” Sirius stared into the nervous eyes staring up at him. He cleared his throat, “James… tell me what we did that night.”

James Potter stared at him.

“TELL ME!” Sirius screamed. He was thinking of when they'd become blood brothers.

People stopped their walking to stare.

“Sirius!” Remus’s voice was admonishing, and he reached for Sirius’s shoulder, “What on earth are you ---”

But Sirius Black looked rather pale. “You don’t know, do you?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Jamee shivered up at him.

No. Not shivered.

Snivelled.

“WHERE IS HE?” Sirius bellowed and his fist tightened in the neckline of the shirt as he shook James, hard enough that his head jostled forward and backwards - probably giving him whiplash. “WHERE IS HE, YOU FUCKING SNAKE??!!?”

“SIRIUS!” Remus cried, “SIRIUS, STOP IT! YOU’RE HURTING JAMES!”

People were staring, whispering, a scream had come from somebody in the quickly gathering crowd…

“NO I AM NOT,” Sirius bellowed, and he gave Snape one last, really hard shake so that Severus’s head hit the frame of the window rather violently. “WHERE IS THE REAL JAMES POTTER, SNIVELLUS, HUH? WHERE IS HE?!?”