Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

2 January, 1978 - Friend

For several rather calming minutes, Lavinia stood, still wrapped in Regulus's arms, feeling genuinely safe for the first time in a long while even as she ignored the protesting aches of her bruises. This was a familiar place, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of one of the few people who had never really hurt her. Someone she knew she could rely on. Someone who had showed up to a house he knew he wasn't welcome at because he was worried.

She'd heard what Sirius had said, for all that he'd obviously been trying not to let her know. Sirius had written to Regulus and asked him to check on her. Which brought about a whole load of confusing thoughts and feelings she didn't really know how to deal with.

He was looking out for her, for which she was grateful, she supposed. But he was Sirius Black. Looking out for people wasn't something she usually associated with him. Not that she should be surprised, she knew. For whatever reasons, none of which Lavinia could even begin to guess at, Sirius Black had a habit of looking out for her. There had been the night at the end of last term, the night of the full moon, the night on the astronomy tower. And just a few days ago, when he'd let her in and cleaned her wounds and told her in no uncertain terms to stay. She knew she owed him a lot. Owed him her life, likely more than once over.

But she still couldn't get it out of her head that he was Sirius Black. He was a prankster and a trickster and a Gryffindor and he'd hated her for years. And she'd hated him. And now she didn't know what to think. Because he hadn't just comforted her, hadn't just looked out for her. He'd understood that he wasn't the person she needed and he'd made sure to contact exactly who she wanted by her side. Even though, as she knew, that person certainly wasn't exactly his first choice of correspondence. He'd set aside his ego and his personal feuds to help her. It warmed her heart in a way she'd never have thought a person like Sirius Black could. But then, he surprised her a lot these days and she was beginning to think she'd never really had the measure of him in the first place.

Eventually, Regulus pulled back from hugging Lavinia and held her at arm's length, his grey eyes surveying her face carefully. He shook his head, pain and guilt and disbelief all minging on his features. "I was so worried," he started, his voice slightly choked. "When Sirius sent that letter and I didn't know why he knew you were in trouble or what the trouble was or..." He broke off, shaking his head as though trying to dispel the stress. "Why didn't you say something, Vin?" he sighed, his tone somewhere between accusation, exasperation and genuine fear.

Lavinia could only shrug. She had many reasons, not least of which was that she didn't want to bother anyone with problems she'd brought on herself. But knowing Regulus, that wasn't a good answer to give. So she gave a tight-lipped smile and offered a different truth. "Because I had it under control."

Regulus snorted. "Yes, this is obviously all under control," he agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Lavinia frowned up at him and his face softened. "I mean it, Vin," he sighed. "I know you can handle yourself, but this is so far from okay."

Lavinia sighed and glanced away, knowing, and hating, that he was right. "It wasn't this bad before," she murmured, almost apologetically. It was true. For the past several years she'd had it all together. It had been bad, she knew that and lines had been crossed but never too far for her to explain it away. Not that she wasn't still trying to explain this incident away, but it was infinitely harder. Especially since her mother's hands holding a knife kept intruding on her dreams.

Regulus seemed to deflate slightly. "I just wish you'd said something," he murmured. "Maybe I could have helped. You could have come to my place or something." He sounded so desperate, so guilty and all she could think was that he had to know she would have gone to him. That he was her first choice. And that there was a damn good reason he couldn't be.