Chapter Text
Gentle breathing.
That’s what he whispered over and over, as the man on his lap shook.
What a fucking stupid piece of advice. But what could he say? Fuck, he could not wrap his mind around the last few days. He could only follow the plan formed by his brother—Prongs. But was this really what the plan was?
Did he, on some level, want this? A chance to redeem himself… He had left Regulus alone once, maybe twice, but now he had the opportunity to help him. The last time, their captors had been their progenitors (Sirius refused to call them parents, even in his thoughts). Now, he had rescued his baby brother from prison.
James had come up with the plan. Ginny Weasley’s older brother, the Curse Breaker, had been more than happy to assist them with a scheme that could lead to Voldemort’s downfall. Arthur Weasley had helped his son, gathering intelligence from the Ministry. Remus was their main bait—just a werewolf howling on a boat could distract most of the guards. With the wards down, Sirius transforming into Padfoot, sneaking inside, and stealing the keys… it could have been a disaster. It could still be. But he was here, now, with his brother lying and moaning on his lap, while Andromeda worked spells to assess him.
When she finished, she caressed his hair, then looked up at Sirius.
“He’s suffering from starvation, tremors, and… honestly, the list is long, Siri…” Tears shone in her eyes as she lifted her hand from Regulus to hold Sirius’s. “But we can help him now.”
Someone cleared his throat at the door. Prongs.
“Everything alright?” he asked gently.
“It will be, with time,” said Andromeda.
“We need him to be responsive soon, Andy. We need to know everything he knows about Voldemort and how his Death Eaters may be operating now.”
“James, he just came through a big ordeal. After years in that prison! And you want to use him, not think of his health…”
“Yes,” James cut her off. “He was in prison because he was rightfully convicted. Because he was a member of a terrorist group. Because he and his mates tried to murder my child…”
“He didn’t,” interjected Sirius in a low voice, drawing both of their gazes promptly. “He did many wrongs, but he saved Harry. He came to me and insisted, even when I tried to throw him out. He told me about Peter’s betrayal, and we rushed to the cottage to save you three. He didn’t try to murder Harry, Prongs. He made many mistakes, but not that one. James, I know it’s complicated… but he will help us. Give him a little time. He’s too weak now, but I will make sure he stays on the right side, and he will help us.”
“Okay. I trust you, brother,” James said, nodding. He turned to leave, but looked back at Sirius, Andromeda, and the frozen Regulus.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “if that wanker Snape has a chance to redeem himself, I think Regulus has a million more reasons why he deserves it.”
Regulus, frozen and shaking until that moment, suddenly gripped Sirius’s knee, as if he had heard and understood James.
“Yes. Regulus deserves this,” said Sirius, pretending to ignore his brother’s movement. “Now he has his chance. If he helps us protect Harry, all will be forgiven.”
And Sirius meant it.
Now, Regulus had a chance to redeem his wrongdoing as a Death Eater. And Sirius had a chance to redeem himself as a big brother.