Chapter Text
The dimly lit room is unexpectedly awash with a flash of green as Regulus Black falls through the Potter’s fireplace in a bloody heap. Sirius feels his brother’s head slam against his foot, a pained whimper leaving the younger boy’s mouth before he falls still.
“Regulus?” Sirius gapes at him. The boy doesn’t reply.
The room is empty apart from the two brothers. It’s late in the evening and the Potters have already made their way up to bed, Sirius staying behind in a content, warm laze in the armchair by the fire. Except now, a cold dread seems to be creeping up his legs the longer Regulus lies immobile and silent.
Sirius drops to his knees and shakes him lightly, “Reg?”
Still no response. His hand feels wet now. He raises it and pales at the thick rust-coloured liquid coating his palm. No, he thinks desperately, shaking Regulus more forcefully now. Please, not him.
“REGULUS – REG, FUCK, JAMES.”
There’s a bounding down the stairs and James bursts through the door, chest heaving and eyes frantically taking in the room. “Wha – Sirius?” He eyes Sirius’ bloody hand, then his gaze moves to the body on the floor, eyes widening at familiar the boy. James runs over and drops down to his knees beside him. “Is that -
“I can’t find it, I can’t fucking find it!” Sirius doesn’t look up and keeps trying to shake Regulus awake, hands frantically running over his body. “Help me move him.”
“Find what?” James asks, quickly grabbing Regulus’ legs, carrying him to the chaise. He’s too light, James thinks.
“The wound. He won’t stop bleeding – oh Merlin – there’s so much blood James. It’s not stopping.”
James swallows at the sheer terror in Sirius’ voice, trying to stamp down his own growing fear. There’s a trail of blood leading from the fireplace all the way across the room, a thin stream but thick and red and too full. Regulus has lost a fatal amount of blood.
He quickly reaches for his wand. “Rennervate!”
Regulus’ head moves slightly, then goes limp again.
“Again.” Sirius begs, knuckles white from his grip on Regulus’ robes.
James does it again, trying to focus as much of his magic he can behind the casting, and this time Regulus’ eyes flutter open slightly.
“Oh, thank fuck. Reg, Reggie. Hey, come on for fucks sake. Regulus, look at me. There we go. Je suis là, ne t'inquiète pas. Quick, tell me quickly, what happened?” Sirius cradles his brother’s face in his palms, desperate eyes flickering over his face for some hint of an answer.
“Marge curs,” Regulus mumbles, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“What?” James whispers, leaning closer. He lightly taps Regulus’ cheek, “Try again, one more time for us Regulus. Come on.”
Regulus seems to lie still for a moment, then weakly raises his shaking palm, opening it to drop two silver rings on the floor. “Marriage curse.”
Then he’s out again.
Sirius’ freezes, his eyes wide in horror. “No.”
His face crumples, letting out a sob, he clutches Regulus’ head to his chest. “No no no no NO.”
“What?” James exclaims, “What is that, Sirius, what’s happening to him?”
“He’s dying.” Sirius cries, choking on the words.
James feels like he’s been stabbed with a shard of ice at the base of his spine. Chills and numbness combining with a sharp pain crawling up to his neck. He sits there immobilised, frozen in his own fright.
“James, Sirius, what on earth –
Fleamont Potter stops at the sight of his blood smeared living room and what looks like a dead Regulus in his boys’ arms. He abruptly turns and sprints back up the stairs. A few seconds later, Euphemia runs in, still in her nightgown, and drops to her knees next to the chaise.
James feels like his head’s been submerged under water. Voices become muffled and his vision goes blurry, unable to focus on the lights shooting out of his mother’s wand, unable to make out any of the hurried, frantic incantations coming out of her mouth.
“James.” A voice breaks through his haze. He turns to meet his father’s eyes, stern and deceptively calm. “James. Listen to me, you need to pull yourself together. Sirius, James.”
That snaps him out of it and his gaze lands on his best friend, sitting white knuckled and lip clenched between his teeth, shaking so hard James feel his own teeth rattle watching him.
“Right,” He says weakly, shoving his hair out of his face. “Right, yes. Sirius, it’s going to be okay. Listen, mum will take care of him, right mum? He’s going to be completely fine. Your brother’s not going to die Sirius.” He says firmly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Sirius doesn’t react, James isn’t sure if he even heard any of his words. He just keeps shaking, holding his brother’s hand and staring at his pale, lifeless face.
“Mum?” James whispers.
His mother ignores him too. There’s a ringing in his ears. Everything feels too loud and too quiet at the same time. This is what they must mean when they call it deafening. James thinks. This silence. Masking the crash of a fallout just around the bend.
They all sit there and watch, helpless and restless. Watch as his mother works with laser sharp focus, sweat forming on her brow. She never takes her eyes off Regulus, hand steady and sure, moving all across his body and enveloping him in a thin, sheer, blue bubble. She summons a vial and gently tips it into Regulus’s mouth. Then, the bubble around him slowly submerges into his body. Glowing for a second and then gone.
Slowly, agonisingly slowly, the colour begins seeping into Regulus’ face and his lips part slightly as he lets out a weak breath.
A heart-shattering sob next to James breaks the silence.
He’s known him for years; doesn’t think he’s really known himself until he knew him. But James has never known this Sirius. This fragile side, breaking down completely at the thought of losing his brother. He looks almost as pale as Regulus, desperately gulping down breaths like he’s been starved of air. Looking like he might die himself.
“Alright Sirius,” Effie says softly. Shoulders slumped in exhaustion and slightly out of breath, she slowly lifts herself to sit on the chaise and pulls Sirius into her. “Alright darling, he’s fine for now. Your brother is going to be fine. Deep breaths love, keep breathing.”
Sirius wipes his face with rough hasty movements, like a child embarrassed to be caught crying. But he lets himself be held, leaning into the comfort he’s being offered.
“He’ll live?” He asks quietly in a hoarse voice.
Effie strokes his hair, “For now, yes. He’s alive. But I need to know exactly what’s happened. Diagnostics showed some form of curse, his blood was seeping out of his pores from all over. The magical signature was dark, ancient. Nothing I’ve ever come across.”
Sirius clenched his eyes shut, “They …” He took a deep breath and continued, “They put a marriage curse on him.” His voice breaks.
Effie stills, face going blank.
It was his father’s voice that sent a chill down to James’ bones.
“They what?”
Sirius sniffs and looks up, “They threatened to do it to me all the time. But I never imagined … I didn’t think they would ever actually go through with it. It seemed a bit much, even for them.” He eyes Regulus guiltily.
“Will someone tell me what the fuck that is?” James demanded.
He felt his father’s hand press protectively on his shoulder. “It’s an ancient barbaric technique to scare children into arranged betrothals. Pureblood families centuries ago made common use of it to ensure control over the bloodlines and heirs. It died down long ago, even the most conservative families realised the horrors of it and didn’t want to risk their children.” Fleamont said, voice shaking with barely concealed rage. “It was like giving your own child a death sentence with only one way out; yielding.”
“They changed it.” Sirius says, reaching out to touch Regulus. He holds his hand and doesn’t let go. “The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black put their own twist on the curse, mother used to boast. She said that there was a shorter timeline, they didn’t want anyone wasting their time.” He spits the house name bitterly, eyeing the suit Regulus is wearing.
“The curse activates as soon as someone says ‘no’ to marrying.” He imagines Regulus standing at the altar, snatching the rings before speaking his own death into existence.
The rings.
Sirius sits up abruptly and reaches down for them. “He doesn’t want to die.” He says almost to himself, looking at the rings in wonder. “He came here to be saved.”
James tries to absorb the mind shattering information Sirius has just dropped, tries to stop his head from spinning. Orion and Walburga Black weren’t people. People don’t do this. They were inhumane. James refuses to believe he lives in a world where people can be capable of this.
“How do we save him?” James asks.
Sirius doesn’t reply and avoids everyone’s eyes in the room.
His mother replies to him instead, “He must marry, using those rings.” She says cautiously, as if she’s come to a realisation that hasn’t settled in for James yet. “It won’t get rid of the curse but it will immediately stop it from killing him. Essentially, it will lock him and his partner in the curse for a certain period of time.”
“A certain period of time, usually. But once the marriage was confirmed, our parents would have modified it to make it last indefinitely. That’s why he stole the rings.” Sirius adds.
Fleamont has been very quiet so far. James turns to his dad, who is already looking at him intently.
Both his parents are. The only person not looking at him is Sirius.
“What?” He asks, alarmed.
“As Sirius said, the curse has been modified to a shorter timeline.” Effie says, looking at him wearily. “We’ve already lost too much time. The stasis I’ve put him under will only hold for so long. If Regulus is not married to a Pureblood within the next hour, he will die.”
Oh.
Oh.
They could find someone; they could rush out and find someone and be back in time. Surely one of their friends might agree to this. Doesn’t Mary always speak about marrying young? Or one of Regulus’ friends, that group he’s always seen out with, the blonde girl. Pandora, was it?
James stares at the clock. He can feel the tension in the room pressing in on him. No one looks at him then. They turn back to staring at Regulus quietly, watching him slowly die.
The thought occurs to him, but he brushes it off. He’s had some stupid ideas, but this is completely ridiculous. It’s in no way an option.
He stares at Sirius then, eyes red rimmed and face resigned with the kind of grief James knows would follow him every single day. He looks at the boy he would sell his soul in a second to protect. Then he does.
“I’ll do it.” James says firmly.
All heads whip around to stare at him now. His parents look at him in shock, so does Sirius, but underneath his expression there is a quietly concealed hope that he’s trying to repress. But James knows his brother, he knows his brother’s heart. He can’t let it break right in front of him. He’d rather break his own.
“James,” Sirius whimpers. “James you can’t be serious.”
“I can’t,” James says, “That’s you.”
Sirius doesn’t laugh. “You can’t do this.”
“Yes, I can.” He says stubbornly.
“You don’t want this.” Sirius argues weakly. “I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself.”
“Since when do you let me do anything,” James shoots back.
“This isn’t a fucking joke!” Sirius hisses, “This is your life we’re talking about.”
“And Regulus’”
Sirius’ resolve wavers and he looks away, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. “I can’t ask you do this for me. I can’t take more from you.”
James scoffs and crosses his arms, “You’re not taking anything. We’re giving Regulus a chance! Sirius you can’t honestly accept the alternative.”
Sirius shakes his head and holds his brother’s hand tighter.
“Right so. That’s settled.” James says curtly. “How do we do this then?”
“James” His dad reaches for him, “We could find another solution, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
His mother watches with a soft gaze, conveying with a glance that there was no obligation for him to do this.
“We don’t have time to figure something else out. I want to do this. This is my decision. I’m a fully grown, consenting adult.” He says firmly. He turns to Sirius and holds his gaze, steady and unwavering, “I’m going to do this.”
Then something occurs to him. “Wait, will it work? Does it – uh – does it work if we’re both …”
“It might not.” Effie says gently, holding Sirius close.
“But it could,” James argues. Then nods to himself, “So it’s worth a shot.”
If there is a chance James could save a life, he was going to take it. There was no doubt about that.
“I’m asking one last time,” Effie says, eyes searching her son’s face. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
A fierce determination sets in as it always does when James feels an oncoming challenge. He squares his shoulders and gives her a hard look. “Yes.”
Effie looks at him for a moment, a complicated expression taking over, then smooths it into something neutral and mirrors James look. “Very well. Sirius, the rings please.”
Sirius stares at her with wide eyes, then at James, then at Fleamont.
He looks at his brother last. Lying there so very still, chest rising shallowly. He looks younger than his twenty years; an innocent, untainted look about him. Sirius remembers waking up to that face in the mornings Regulus would sneak into his bed as a child. If it weren’t for the blood coating his hair and body, he’d feel the airy peace he felt in those moments
That strengthens his resolve enough to dump the rings in Effie’s awaiting palm.
Effie beckons James over and gently pries Regulus’ hand out of Sirius’ iron-clad grip. Fleamont places a reassuring hand at the base of James’ spine and leads him forwards.
Basically being walked down the aisle, James thinks dryly. A sick, twisted parody of the ceremony taking place in their very living room.
“I’m going to put the rings on you both and James you’ll answer whether you accept Regulus as your husband.” She gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “Sirius, since Regulus won’t be conscious for this part, you’ll be answering for him.”
“He can do that?” James blanches.
Sirius gives a short, bitter laugh. “As his closest blood relative and his ‘superior’ in the family, yes, I can legally do this.”
Loathes them. James loathes those heartless people.
“We don’t have much time left, so we’re going to keep this short. James.” Effie closes her eyes for a moment, then snaps them open and stares hard at him, “Do you take Regulus to be your bound companion, in blood and soul, to protect and to cherish, until the day you die?” Her lips twitches on the last words before she flattens them into a thin line.
James is relieved by how steady his voices comes out. “I do.”
His father lets out a breath behind him, the whispers of it on the back of his neck and James focuses on that coolness instead of the bile rising in his throat.
“Sirius, I’m going to address this to you. Does Regulus take James, in blood and soul, to defend and treasure, until the day he dies?”
“He does.” Sirius’ voice cracks horribly.
James feels the cool silver slide down his finger as it settles into place and tightens. Then Regulus’ is placed on his limp finger, Sirius holding it stiff to allow for it to be slid down. It takes an awkward moment for Effie to get it on from how badly Sirius’ own hands are shaking it. James feels like he’s going to be sick.
Effie places Regulus’ cold hand in James’. “By the spell and stars, I now pronounce you bonded in soul and blood. Heart to heart. Magic to magic.” James doesn’t recognise the words, but guesses it might have something to do with the curse. Their palms glow a white shine for a moment, a thick tug pulling from James’ chest, his heart, towards his palm, and then it settles deeply.
“It’s done.” Effie says, getting up swiftly and walking over to her husband. Fleamont, pulls her in without hesitation, letting her burrow her face in his neck.
Sirius stares blankly at his best friend and brother’s joined hands, a defeated look on his face.
“Oh he is going to be so pissed off when he wakes up.”
When, is all James hears. When he wakes up. Not if.