Chapter Text
"Reg."
Regulus rolled over onto his back, turning his head towards Sirius, his face slightly illuminated in wand light from a nearby auror. "Yeah?"
"Quidditch author, four letters."
Regulus knew this. He knew he knew it. It took longer than usual to find the answer in his brain. That was happening more and more. "Wisp?"
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, that fits. Thanks."
Regulus nodded, scooting over to look at the paper. Sirius had apparently convinced the minister to give it to him. Regulus would have paid good money to see it, but he’d sadly been asleep, and didn’t have any money. "I still can't believe he gave you that."
Sirius shrugged. "Yeah. I'm not complaining, though." He filled the boxes in with the answer. Wait a moment…
"Where'd you get a quill?" Regulus asked.
Sirius nodded at the auror on the other side of the doors. "Self inking, too," he commented. "Thanks, mate."
On further inspection, Regulus recognized the man: a tall bloke with a deep voice, named Shacklebolt. "You're welcome."
The two of them, and now Sirius, had always had a sort of understanding. He always offered the date, and bits of information from the outside world when he could. The longer he'd been an auror the more he became willing to…bend the rules, the slightest bits. Casting lighting charms here or there, making conversation. A few patronuses if he was certain he could get away with it.
He tried to extend help to other prisoners, as far as Regulus could tell, but no one–at least, not in their general area–was keen on accepting it. Regulus himself was quite stubborn, but he still favored self-preservation.
The same could not be said for, say, Bellatrix, who Regulus had heard more than once shouting at Shacklebolt.
"Anything good in that Prophet?" Regulus asked.
Shacklebolt shrugged. "No news is good news, as they say."
"Has the chamber of secrets stuff blown over?" Regulus asked.
"Still some editorials, but the front page was about the galleon draw, so…" Regulus nodded. "Arthur Weasley won that. If anyone deserves it, it's him. Works in misuse of muggle artifacts, which is just…a thankless job, really."
"Worse than guarding Azkaban?" Sirius asked, not looking up from the paper. Shacklebolt laughed. Sirius frowned at a question, and flipped through the paper. "How am I supposed to know the Kestrel's seeker? " he muttered.
"We're not their target audience, Sirius," Regulus pointed out.
Sirius ignored him. "Is he in here somewhere, do you think? They do that a lot, don't they?"
He flipped back several pages, ending up on the front page. He skimmed the page, and then froze, staring at the picture.
He leaned in close, and squinted at it, then looked up at Regulus. He seemed to be about to say something, before thinking better of it.
He turned back to the crossword, and after a few minutes, looked up at Shacklebolt. "Are you gonna get in trouble for this?" he asked.
Shacklebolt shrugged. "No one else is on, but I could stand to do a lap in a bit."
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, don't let us get you in trouble with the Aurors."
"Yeah, they might send you to Azkaban," Regulus commented. "I don't know if you've heard, but it's not a pleasant experience."
Shacklebolt chuckled to himself, and headed down the hallway. As his footsteps faded, Regulus whispered: "What was that about?"
Sirius shushed him, and whispered (at the exact same volume as Regulus, thank you very much): "It's Peter, he's in the paper!"
"What?" Regulus asked, upset, but not surprised that Sirius had cracked before him.
"The Weasley boy has him, he's hiding as a rat."
Regulus frowned. "How could you possibly know that?"
"He's in the paper, and he's missing a toe," Sirius explained.
"Missing a toe?" Regulus repeated. Then it clicked. "Oh, Merlin!" Sirius nodded, shushing him again. "What are you gonna do?" Regulus whispered.
"We're gonna get out of here," Sirius said, grinning.
Regulus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I'm not leaving. We've talked about this before."
"Please, Reg, I need to take care of Peter! For Harry! He's not safe if Peter's still out there."
"I'm not gonna stop you," Regulus said. "I'm just saying that I'm not coming with you."
Sirius sighed. "But I can't leave you again. Grimmauld Place was bad enough, I can't leave you here."
Regulus felt rather…odd. He couldn't help but enjoy that Sirius didn't want to leave him, even though he should want Sirius to get out. And he did want him to get out. But that didn't mean there wasn't something therapeutic about Sirius wanting to stay with him.
"Yes, you can," Regulus said. That was that on the matter, in Regulus’ opinion.
Sirius ignored the finality in his tone. “Regulus, please, I really think that you-”
Regulus cut him off. “Just stop. Just leave it, Sirius, I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
“If you really need me to stay…”
"I’m not a child, Sirius!” Regulus snapped. He took a deep breath. “But…but Harry is. He needs you, you’re right about Peter. I'm…I'll be fine.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched on. “Do you have a plan?" Regulus asked. He couldn’t help but be fascinated with the idea of escape, even when he knew, in all but the most secret part of his mind, that he deserved to be here.
"Not yet. But I'll figure one out."