One Last Try [HP Jamione fanfic]

31. Cruel Summer

1st July 1976

"Throw the dirty blood traitor out into the street, Regulus." Walburga Black's voice was sharp, "Remember, this is what happens when you disobey."

Regulus stared in horror down at his older brother, lying in a growing pool of blood courtesy of the slicing hex their mother had hit him with. Regulus performed the most basic healing spell, unfortunately it was the only one he knew. Sirius had passed out, so he carefully lifted him into his arms, thankful for the muscles, built by flying and Quidditch, that allowed him to take Sirius' bulky weight.

He didn't have the heart or cruelty to throw Sirius out into the street to inevitably die like their mother wished. He stared out at the street for a brief moment, fear rushing through him as he looked down at his still bleeding elder brother in his arms. He couldn't Apparate, and he couldn't take him to St Mungo's himself, so instead of taking Sirius outside like he'd been instructed, he hurried into the seldom-used parlour as fast as he could with the dead-weight of his injured brother in his arms. He lowered Sirius to the floor gently, and pushed the door to the parlour closed after taking a look around for any lingering family members. Luckily they all seemed to be upstairs still.

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and without taking a moment longer, sending a worried look to Sirius as he did so, he threw it into the empty fireplace. A bright green fire flashed to life immediately, and Regulus lifted Sirius back into his arms and stepped into the fire.

He shouted for the first place he could think of, "Prewett Estate!"

He'd not been to the Prewett's Manor before, which wasn't surprising considering his parents' opinions of the family, and the fact that they weren't aware of his friendship with the youngest Prewett. He whirled into their large and really rather impressive entrance hall. He was surprised at the opulence and could admit to himself he'd been expecting less.

He stepped out of the fireplace, Sirius still cradled close, blood dripping sluggishly down Regulus' arms from the only partially healed wound. "Prewett!" He shouted as loud as he could, waiting but a moment before shouting again, "Hermione! HERMIONE!"

He heard running footsteps as he carefully laid Sirius onto one of the couches in front of the fireplace. He took a step back nearer to the still lit fireplace, ready to get out of there as quickly as he could so his family wouldn't miss him.

He glanced up as Hermione skidded around the corner, her curls frizzing in a halo around her head, sparking with magic, wand in hand and brown eyes flashing. "Regulus?!" She looked a mixture of incredulous and frantic, no doubt thanks to Regulus' shouting. "What are you doing here?" He could hear further steps hurrying after her, and his eyes widened in panic.

He made eye contact with her briefly, then glanced down at Sirius - still unconscious and bleeding, he groaned a little in pain. "Take care of him." He jerked his chin towards the sofa, and before Hermione could ask anything he took the final step back into the fireplace and shouted, "Grimmauld Place!"

The last thing he saw as he was whirled away was Hermione running forward, panic in her eyes.

2nd July 1976

Hermione sat at Sirius' bedside as she had been since the night before, his large tanned hand cradled in hers.

Regulus' shouts for her last night had interrupted the family dinner the Prewetts had been having. Her heart had leapt into her throat and she was on her feet and running before she could even register it. When she'd skidded into the entrance hall she didn't know what she'd been expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't Regulus Black telling her to 'take care of him' and then disappearing. She'd run forward like she would be able to stop him halfway through Flooing, and that's when she'd seen Sirius lying lifeless on the couch.