Back at Hogwarts…
Lucius was seated at the Slytherin table for dinner, Regulus Black beside him. The arrangement was deliberate. Lucius was making a quiet effort to connect with his future brother-in-law—partly to understand Regulus better, but mostly to learn how to treat Narcissa the way she deserved.
The alternative was asking Bellatrix.
And Lucius had absolutely no desire to invite that level of chaos into his life.
He could, of course, ask Narcissa herself—but where was the romance in that? He wanted to surprise her. Perhaps, beneath the carefully cultivated façade of ambition and composure, he was a hopeless romantic—much like his father had been.
Both he and Regulus were surprised to notice that Sirius was missing.
So were the rest of the so-called Marauders— Lucius disliked the name Marauders. It carried memories of humiliation and ill-timed pranks—he had been their prey more times than he cared to admit. Only Pettigrew was present, which in itself was hardly noteworthy.
Just as Lucius was about to comment—dinner nearly over—the Great Hall doors swung open.
Merlin.
They looked as though they had fought death itself.
Their robes were perfectly clean. No visible injuries. No blood. Nothing that would draw the attention of professors or students alike.
But it was their eyes.
They were haunted.
Lupin's gaze was the most unsettling—sharp and feral, like a wounded animal licking its injuries after a hard-won victory. There was satisfaction there, yes—but fear too, raw and unhidden.
Sirius looked as though he were one misstep away from plunging into a pit with no bottom, his expression distant, unraveling at the edges.
And James Potter—
James looked as though he had aged years in a single night.
Lucius would never deny the Potter heir's talent. But James had always carried a boyish belief that he could win at anything—that the world would bend simply because he willed it so.
That childish arrogance, Lucius knew, would be torn apart in noble circles.
They were vultures there—patient, observant—always waiting for someone young, gifted, and naïve enough to believe they were untouchable.
And as Lucius watched James take his seat, he realized with quiet certainty:
Something had changed.
Both Lucius and Regulus exchanged a glance before looking back at the Marauders.
Regulus let out a slow, measured sigh.
Lucius was just about to ask—about Sirius, about the hollowed look in his brother's eyes—when Regulus spoke first.
"Malfoy," Regulus began, his voice low, controlled, "may I ask you something? That is—if you don't mind."
Lucius turned to him, curiosity sharpening his focus. "You may."
Regulus opened his mouth, then hesitated. His gaze flicked briefly around the Great Hall—the long tables, the murmuring students, the ever-present sense of watching portraits and listening walls. Just as quickly, he closed his mouth again.
"This isn't a conversation meant for places with eavesdropping ears and wandering eyes," Regulus said quietly. "Perhaps we could meet at the Astronomy Tower tonight. The moon looks particularly beautiful."
The choice of words was deliberate.
Lucius felt his interest spike.
He was pleasantly surprised when Regulus added, almost as an afterthought, "—brother-in-law."
A small, genuine smile tugged at Lucius's lips.
"Yes," Lucius replied smoothly, his earlier questions about Sirius slipping entirely from his mind. "That would be agreeable. The Astronomy Tower it is, Regulus."
Regulus inclined his head in quiet acknowledgment.
And across the Great Hall, Sirius Black did not look back once.
******
With the Marauders
"Well, where were you lot?" Peter asked, slightly out of breath. "I've been looking for you all over—were you still in the—"
Before he could finish Room of Requirement, James looked up.
It wasn't sharp.It wasn't threatening.
Just a casual glance over his shoulder—easy, almost lazy. The kind of look that meant nothing to anyone watching.
But Peter caught the eyes.
They were empty. Flat. Too aware.
He stopped mid-sentence.
Peter swallowed and tried again, his voice a touch higher. "So… where were you guys?"
Sirius answered first, flashing one of his effortless, crooked smiles—the kind that usually convinced the world everything was perfectly fine.
"Just around," Sirius said lightly. "Planning the next big thing."
To anyone else, it would've sounded normal. Typical even.
But Peter—who missed most social cues—felt the wrongness crawl up his spine. Something about Sirius felt… fractured. Like he was holding himself together by habit alone.
Before Peter could ask anything else—or before Remus could turn the question back on him—two familiar voices cut in.
"We've got something interesting to tell you lot!"
The Weasley twins had arrived, grinning in perfect unison.
"Actually—wait," Fabian added, pointing his fork at James. "James, you need to book the grounds today with Madam Hooch for Quidditch practice."
"Yes," Gideon chimed in. "Because the Slytherins already have an unfair advantage, and this time we're not letting them take the Cup."
"Sure thing," James said easily, already reaching for his food. "I'll stop by Hooch after dinner. You two make sure everyone's rounded up."
He paused only long enough to add, "Six sharp. Early morning practice. And this time—no ruckus. We've got enough mud on our names as it is."
With that, James dug into his meal ravenously.
Remus, however, was something else entirely.
He barely touched the rest of the food—only the steak in front of him, red and rare, closer to raw than cooked. He ate with a focus that was almost… feral. Efficient. Powerful. Less like a boy enjoying dinner and more like a predator refuelling.
Maybe it was the approaching full moon.Maybe it was the memory of blood and rot still clinging to his senses.Maybe something in him had awakened tonight and hadn't quite gone back to sleep.
No one said anything.
And when they finished eating, the three of them rose together.
No pranks.No laughter.No dramatic exits.
They left the Great Hall quietly—James didn't even spare Lily Evans a glance.
And that, more than anything else, felt wrong.