Watching Your Back

Watching Your Back

He shivered as he sat outside the ruins of a farmhouse, clutching his cloak tighter around him in a futile attempt to keep the cold rain from running underneath. He had soaked to the skin an hour ago, but he didn't dare try to duck into the meager shelter of the doorway. It would limit his line of sight too much, and he wouldn't do less than his best to protect his brother, and the small boy they'd rescued from Death Eaters only hours before.

"Reg." Sirius stood in the doorway now, watching his brother with concerned eyes. "Reg, I'll take over. You go inside, and dry off." He kept his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze darting over the landscape as much as Regulus' did.

"It's not much drier inside than it is out. And you're worse off than I am, Sirius." Regulus met his brother's gaze for a moment, his jaw clenching. "Go back in, before the boy starts to wonder if we've abandoned him here for his tormentors to find."

"Reg."

"Sirius, I mean it. Look, I promised I'd do whatever I can to help you. And right now, that means keeping an eye out in case the Death Eaters find us, and letting you rest." He nodded to the bandages wrapped around Sirius' calf. "You're still bleeding, and until we can get to a safe house, you're best off resting, and keeping that leg up so you don't loose too much blood."

Sirius sighed. "I liked it better when we were younger. You'd actually listen to me."

"Which is why both of us are scorch marks on the family tree." Regulus winced when he saw his brother's expression close down, shutting away anything he felt. "Go rest, Sirius. If I need to rest before the sun comes up, I'll come get you. I promise."

"Fine. Just keep your eyes open, Reg. I'd like to at least keep my little brother in one piece." Sirius turned away, back into the darkness of the farmhouse, his parting words twising a familiar knife in Regulus' heart.

He sighed, turning his attention back to the landscape, and his task of keeping an eye out for any enemies. It had been nearly five years, and it still hurt when he thought of that wretched day in Hogsmeade.

"Run, Regulus!" Sirius shoved his younger brother towards the shack standing alone on the hill. "Go!"

"But I can help, Sirius!"

"Just go, Regulus!" James added his voice to Sirius' command, firing off a curse at the Death Eaters who were trying to cause as much havoc and destruction as possible. "We'll cover your back. But someone has to get back to Hogwarts, and warn them!"

"Come on, Reg!" Remus had scrambled up the hill, and was prying loose the boards on the door. He ducked, a curse splintering the boards where his head had been.

Regulus gave his brother one last, pleading look before scrambling up the hill, diving through the small hole Remus had created for him, his robes tearing on the jagged edges of the wood, one particularly sharp piece ripping a gash on his arm.

He turned, hoping the others would follow, but Remus just pushed him further in, shouting at him to go, use the passage, and tell Dumbledore. He fled up the narrow passage under the shack to the Whomping Willow, afraid that he would never see his brother, or his friends, again.

A soft snort escaped Regulus then. He'd been in the infirmary, with Pomfrey threatening to tie him to the bed if he didn't sit down, when they'd brought Sirius in, battered, bruised, and bloody, but alive. If only barely. He hadn't known how close it was until later, after he left Hogwarts to follow in his brother's footsteps to fight Voldemort.

Shaking off the memories for now, he forced himself to refocus, hoping the rain held out until after the dawn, and after he and Sirius could get their new charge to the nearest safehouse. It would be a break, to have the weather wash away their presence, physical and magical, for once, before the Death Eaters could find their trail. And perhaps a sign that maybe, just maybe, they might find a way to end this war, and destroy Voldemort and his followers.