All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Fourth Year : February ( Part 2 )

No.

The crowd blurred beside him. Sirius realized that he was moving.

He'll die.

They were at least five stories above the ground, which was packed hard and cold by the winter ice.

Don't let him die.

People were screaming, maybe-there were definitely voices. But they came as if from underwater.

He can't die.

Madam Hooch was pointing her wand, and Reg was slowing, no longer plummeting at breakneck speed. But he was still falling.

They'll never let me go.

The ground slammed into him with such force that something gave in his ankle, a sharp crack, buckling his knees and pitching him forward into the dirt. He thrust out his arms, instinctively, skinning his palms, and then he was up, stumbling forward-his ankle wouldn't take the weight, but it didn't matter, he couldn't feel it, and he forced it to travel the three shaky steps before he collapsed on his knees beside his brother.

Regulus was unconscious. He could have been sleeping, except he looked all wrong-Reggie didn't sleep like that, silent and peaceful and motionless; he flailed, he stole the blankets, he mumbled nonsense from his dreams. Get up, Sirius thought, desperately, wake up, please. Fear had him by the neck, already kicking tears into his eyes.

Someone's hand was on his shoulder. James-it was James, he was saying something. Hospital wing. They had to go to the hospital wing, yes, that made sense-already McGonagall had pushed through the crowd, and James was tugging on his shoulder-oh. They needed him to let go of Reg. McGonagall had conjured a stretcher. That made sense. It made a lot of sense.

Sirius's fingers twisted into his brother's robes.

"Mate, come on, let's go..." James tugged again, gently. There was a crowd forming around them-Sirius was suddenly very aware of the crush of people. He let go, allowing Madam Hooch to levitate Regulus onto the stretcher, and rubbed roughly at his eyes.

"You alright?" James asked, leaning close, "Can you stand?"

"M'fine." Sirius shrugged him off, getting to his feet-and nearly fell over again as a searing pain tore through his leg. It felt as if someone had shoved a hot brand through his bone, the sharpest point of agony radiating from his ankle. He winced.

"Here, let me-" James was there immediately, wrapping his hand around Sirius's waist, and Sirius slung an arm over his shoulder. Together, they hobbled after Madam Hooch. The crowd of students parted around them, murmuring.

At the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey almost turned them away.

"Oh, no," she huffed, bustling over to one of the beds with her arms full of potion bottles, "I don't have time for any of your antics."

"He's hurt," James said.

Regulus was lying in the bed. His head was bleeding. Sirius realized James was talking about him.

Madam Pomfrey paused, looking down at his leg as if just realizing that Sirius was only standing with the help of his friend. She blinked, then frowned, looking slightly abashed.