To Stitches: Agreed, the first leg of Regulus' journey to be the person who his book self is/ was has finally ended, but how he'll get the rest of the way there both does and does not involve Sirius in a way I hope you enjoy!

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Lily was still crying as she crash landed once more, rolling several times and coming to a painful halt. Even as her impact caused what felt like bricks to fall all around her, she merely lay where she was, curled into the fetal position, trembling fingers pressed against her lips as another sob broke free. She hadn't stopped for so long now, it seemed impossible she ever would. It was too much, all too much to take in, and yet a fourteen year old boy, her boy, would be going through it all alone.

"Oh come now dear, it can't be all bad."

Lily sat up with a painful gasp, shuttering in fear and just a few more lashes of pain at her own stupidity for letting her guard down. Just because it had been so long since they'd seen another person didn't mean it couldn't inevitably happen! She was now far more familiar with her seven companions voices than she ever would have believed possible, could pick any of them out in a crowded corridor now, but she didn't know that one!

She forced her bleary eyes to focus, she had to know if there were anymore dead bodies around, nobody had started reading yet and Merlin knew what was happening- then she gasped a wet, snotty, painfully disgusting noise in relief to see it was a portrait. Tisking away at her, eyeing the mess she made.

It was not the only one in here, but the one speaking to her nonetheless in a kind, gentle voice. Despite her aged face, it held a hint of youth in it Lily didn't quite understand until she wiped yet more tears from her burning cheeks and saw the now familiar, kind hazel eyes shining out. The name plate underneath read Carinthia Potter- Nee Greengrass. Coughing slightly, shoulders still shaking with the force of it, she looked around again to find herself in an opulent library. She'd knocked over almost an entire bookcase, the evidence scattered all around her. Portraits of other Potters that had married into the family scattered the rest of the free space, and as she looked over her shoulder, she saw a tapestry woven together pyramid style right into the wall from floor to ceiling, of the far more direct line. There, on the bottom line where the last strip showed James Flemont Potter, there was a piece of red string tacked on, and a sticky note proudly bearing the name Sirius Orion Black right next to it.

She tried, and failed, not to laugh. She sat down back on her bum, feeling like one as she buried her face into her knees. Of course they'd wind up here eventually, James Potter was probably going to be as miraculously alive as his friends and swope in to save young Harry and probably bring Cedric back to life and defeat You-Know-Who all while hopping on one foot. She sighed in exhaustion as the sounds of ruckus finally reached her ears, even the faint echo of someone calling out her name. She tipped her head to the side and peaked out through her hair at the door, waiting for someone to come barging in even as a few more tears trickled out. She wasn't going to bother to hide them. She was too exhausted to do much of anything else.

It was finally Lupin who stumbled through the door, like he was trying to see how fast he could dart in and out, but came to an outstandingly poor halt when he actually caught a flash of her. They stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds before he turned around and bellowed over his shoulder, "I found her!" Then he turned back to her, still rubbing his lined face in exhaustion. "Merlin Evans, you could have at least come and told us you were still alive before being alone."

She didn't understand the snappy tone he used, or why he even cared. She was well past that point, as Cedric's body still flickered behind her eyes every time she blinked. She just sat there like a useless, hopeless lump.

He stood there for another few awkward moments before finally turning to leave, she heard a quiet, muttered conversation not far down the hall now, but whatever he'd said to deter Potter had worked no better this time than any other time he'd ever tried. Yet when he came in, Potter was sanse swager, for once. She wondered if it was due to his still limping, that instead of strutting around like usual, he walked almost casually to her side. "Alright Evans?" He asked softly.

"No," she managed through a still clotted throat.

He nodded, like that didn't surprise him, and instead looked around with bemusement. "Ah, sorry you had to wind up in here, not exactly my favorite room. Tradition and all that it even exists," he gestured vaguely over his shoulder to the family tree. "I think your portrait would have been the only thing I liked about this place," he added with a self congratulatory grin.

"Brilliant Prongs, really," Lupin called from where he was still listing on the door jamb. "Why don't you add a glib comment about Smith landing in your room of all places, I'm sure that'll also brighten her day."

"Don't be crass Moony," Potter rebuked cheerfully, "obviously we'll be going on our date through the secrets of Hogsmeade before she ever sees that!"

The snap came easily to her lips. "Not if it was between you and the giant squid!" Even to her own ears, it sounded far more exasperated than belligerent as usual. She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing, how did he still manage to smile like that despite everything? Maybe he was touched in the head, like she'd said many a times long before now.

He smiled unrepentantly and promised, "that can be arranged on the tour. Until then Evans," he gave her a grand, sweeping gesture worthy of the highest monarchy as he bowed to her, and then turned and grabbed his friend's shoulder, steering him from the room.

She didn't know if he'd had the book this whole time, or if he'd found it in here while she'd been distracted, but only moments later Lupin's tired, strained voice enveloped her and the whole mansion with the words, "Priori Incatatem."

A charm, she recognized at once, to show the last spells a wand had used. What could that have to do with Harry? Were they going to get a hilights of his last moments, his last desperate bids for survival before You-Know-Who finally killed him too, extinguishing the Potter line? Would his body materialize in this very room, like his name on the tree would in only a few years time?

Sirius looked around in surprise to find himself in 'his room,' or so James had dubbed it since his first visit here. He really didn't know why Prongs bothered, Sirius actually prefered to sleep at the foot of his bed most nights when he stayed over. Still, his personal things did seem to end up scattered in here more often than nought.

Several of his limited edition Chocolate Frog Cards were being used as bookmarks in his Muggle magazines he hadn't dared take back to Grimmwauld place for their personal value, an old letter to Moony sat innocently on the windowsill, and several piles of clothes had turned into freshly laundered and folded piles of clothes since he'd last been here. It was exactly where he'd needed to be, he felt safer in this spare room than he ever could have dreamed he would in Grimmwauld place. The effect was ruined by Regulus' surprised black eyes flitting around, taking in everything same as him.

He didn't dare look at him or he'd burn the little twits face off. He couldn't stand to be around anyone but his friends right now with how furiously murderous he was, the last thing he needed was hearing Regulus trying to defend Peter's future actions! Peter! He had to go check on him, could barely stand now to let him out of his sight until he found a way to fix this permanently.

"Sirius-" but Sirius didn't stop and acknowledge him this time, he had to find his real brothers. He grabbed a shirt at random from the pile as he stalked out without a backwards look.

He breathed only mildly easier when he heard Moony start reading as he traversed the wide, brightly lit hallways of the Potter Manor. What they were still hearing of was monstrous, he already knew he'd have been there for Harry to keep him away from those Death Eaters if he could! Being in this home only reinforced the boiling hatred he had for every one of them out there, laughing as his fourteen year old godson was sent to duel V-Voldemort. He had to find a way to fix this, for Harry to grow up knowing this as his home as surely as Sirius now did.

He froze in fury as he passed Mr. and Mrs. Potter's room to see Frank standing awkwardly in the middle. Some small part of him recognized this wasn't his fault, but that didn't stop him pushing the ajare door all the way open and coming inside to shoo him out.

Frank only had to look at him to take the hint, not speaking a word to each other as they went down opposite ends of the hall.

Regulus found he was still sniffling and trying not to cry, still wanting to beg Sirius to come back and not leave him in this strange place even if he was long gone, had been for years now. He felt open, exposed in this brightly lit room, in a stranger's home that Sirius had looked upon with more love than anything he'd ever seen.

He didn't know what to do, there was only a hopeless feeling left clinging to his curdled stomach. Listening to Harry duel the Dark Lord was a true nightmare, the only boy on earth who could ever survive such a thing certainly wasn't now, being used like a play thing instead with the Imperius Curse upon him. Once Harry died though, would they really be free of this? What hope did he have to go back to? He had nowhere else to turn to, not like Sirius did. Would Peter just laugh at him and tell him to figure it out while he and his friends went back to Gryffindor tower? Would he have any choice but joining the Dark Lord's inner circle? He couldn't decide if he'd been relieved, offended, or terrified to find himself not even mentioned like many of his cousins had been during the previous part.

Sirius finally sighed in relief to find him in the Potter's kitchen, stuffing his bags and pockets full to bursting with more food, though an entirely absent look on his face. He was clearly manhandling the peanuts into a side pouch on autopilot, though it was odd still not to see Pippit, the Potter's house-elf, wandering around helping him. It had been weird enough not to see them flitting about the Hogwarts kitchens.

A bit of shame welled up in Sirius as he watched him, his right arm in particular, confirming to his own head repeatedly there really was no Dark Mark there. His imagination had run wild with him while he'd gone around here, the graveyard they'd just left still clinging to his mind like mist. This was still his Peter though, not the mangled creature of the future doing nothing to help Harry as he should.

Peter looked up then and caught him staring. He gave an awkward sort of grin and held his hand out expectantly, and Sirius wordlessly handed his bag over to be shoved full of food next, the silence still odd between them, but no longer as awkward as it could have been. The ghost of Prongs and Evans having a hand in rescuing Harry, possibly the oddest peace maker they had, as a reminder of what they had to lose.