WITH AN ACHE IN HER CHEST, JO RUSHES UP TO THE OWLERY, Juniper weaving in between her feet with each step, stiff parchment clutched harshly between her fingers. Jo really, really misses her mum. It hit her hard, earlier in the morning, as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the window, gut twisting and wrenching and eyes watering. Her head pounds and she thinks about her brother and she pushes back her tears. It's all poured out in her letter to her mother, ink smudged and almost illegible.

She does what she can to push the memory of last night out of her thoughts. Jo can't stand it. Her face burns in humiliation at the mere idea of the night before. When she closes her eyes, she sees Regulus's face, staring down at her, completely unreadable, while she cursed and stumbled and struggled. Jo doesn't know how she'll ever be able to face him ever again. She can't imagine how she must've looked to him. The thought of Potions class lingers in the back of her head, heavy and dreadful.

It's still early in the morning when she reaches the top of the steps of the owlery, moon dipping behind the horizon, chill biting at the tips of her fingers and Juniper chirping and meowing. There's this brawny, brute of an owl Jo fancies, brown feathers and extraordinarily proud, and Jo has him on her mind as she heads for his normal spot.

But she freezes as she lifts her head, slew of curses leaving her tongue at the sight of Regulus Black standing on the other end of the owlery, the darkness of his robes and his curls and the bruises under his eyes a heavy contrast to the icy gray of the stone around him; he is like a spilled ink drop, a long, elegant stain. Jo is still, clenching her muscles with her arms straight down her side, like if she moves he might see her. But he is already staring right through her. Her face burns. Humiliation works it's way up her throat in the form of broadened shoulders, narrowed eyes, a jutted jaw, in the form of a challenge. And Jo is hoping that her mask is as opaque as his, that she can become as composed as he is.

Regulus is void, as he always is, of anything that might give him away, eyes empty as he stares her down and Jo clenches her jaw, digging her fingernails into the soft flesh of her palm. His shoulders are squared to the owl in front of him, but his head is almost lazily lopped to the side, watching Jo with a slight slouch in his shoulders and a hand deep in the pocket of his robes and Jo realizes that there is something on his face, in his relaxed posture, that he simply cannot hide: exhaustion.

The silence is heavy and the stares even more so. Jo figures she should say something, anything, to thank him for the gentleness and the attentiveness in a moment when she was clearly not making the best decisions for herself. But the embarrassment has sown her lips shut and she couldn't even make herself speak if she wanted to.

It's Regulus that relents first, swiveling on his heel and turning to face her fully. "You know," he starts, with whispers of a smirk playing on the edge of his lips.

But before he can continue, it is wiped clean off, and he becomes a blank slate once more. Regulus turns away from her, completely upright once more, and before Jo can even think of anything proper to say, there are strong, warm arms enveloping her.

She's about ready to start shoving elbows when she hears Reed's laugh in her ear. He lifts her off the ground, pulling her back tight into his chest, and despite herself, Jo smiles. "There's my little lion!" he cheers as he places her back down on her feet. Jo turns and faces him, unable to decide if little lion is adorable or awful, with her hands on his chest and his on her hips as he holds her close. "How're you feeling?"

It's then Jo suddenly remembers the ringing in her head. "Could use a proper breakfast," she tells him, a slight squint in her eyes.

The sun is rising behind Ivan, his hair bright and golden in the light of it, and his smile even brighter still. Jo wonders if his mother's part Veela; she always thinks more fondly of him whenever he's around, smiling down at her like that. "Reckon you might've had a bit too much fun last night, yeah?"

Jo chuckles dryly. "You could say that."

Ivan leans down and places a kiss on the top of her head. "Well, come on then. Let's send that letter and get you a real, proper breakfast."

He takes her hand in his, and Jo doesn't even realize it's just them in the owlery now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sirius is calling it the Great Potter Divide of '77.

He tells her, in a dramatic fashion as he's laid out on a common room couch, that the feud between James and Jo has torn apart friendships, lovers, even families. He tells her, looking like a forlorn French maid, that this is the worst thing to happen within the halls of the castle since Severus Snape stepped foot in them.

And Jo's having a hard time disagreeing with him.

It follows her to her classes as she hears the whispers and the rumors that have spread about the school like wildfire, hushed and urgent and mostly fabricated. It follows her to the pitch, where she is forced to avoid viscous and venomous glares and Bludgers from Marlene and is wholly, entirely ignored by her brother. It follows her to the library, where Remus has moved from their usual table to an entirely new one, tucked under the windows and faced away from Jo. And the glares and the whispers and the sudden seeming hatred people have for her is heavy on her shoulders, making her feel sour.

The whole thing is ridiculous, Jo thinks. And she is burdened by the thought that if everyone just minded their business and left her alone, none of it would've happened.

Peter's sat across from her in the common room, legs crossed on the floor, staring intently at a game of wizard's chess that Jo has mostly forgotten about in favor of painting Sirius's nails when James walks in. He's alone, coming in through the portrait hole with a flush on his cheeks and the remains of a grin that completely vanishes at the sight of his sister. Jo stares, knot twisting in her gut as she watches him stride right past them, head up high, without so much of a glance in her direction.

Jo swallows thickly. "I have to hand it to him," she says, returning her attention to Sirius's fingers once more; they're spread out on the curve of her knee, bits of black varnish on her corduroys, "he's really sticking to his word on this one. Hasn't talked to me in four bloody days."

"Why don't you just talk to him?" Peter asks, not once looking up from the chess board. "You are siblings, after all."

"I don't want to talk to him. He's been pissing me off," she shoots back. As much as Jo hates the idea of not speaking to her brother and having almost all of his friends loathe her, she hates the idea of apologizing more.

Sirius is examining his finished hand, already starting to pick away at the dried bits. "Y'know, I really do like Evans," he says with a drawl in his voice, "not sure about whatever hate crusade you're going on Josie, but Merlin it's like he spends every second with her now."

Jo flushes. "I'm not on a hate crusade. I just don't want to be her friend. Wasn't aware that's a bloody crime."

"Hmm," Sirius muses. "Well, you know James."

It's enough to make her concede, shoulders deflating. "I know James," she agrees, dragging the brush along Sirius's pinkie, letting the varnish smudge his skin, messy, like he likes. She twists the top back on the bottle and stares at his hand and thinks that Sirius is nothing like his brother. She doesn't know why she thinks of it.

Jo is snapped back into reality all at once when Peter says, "You should really just apologize, Josie."

She turns to face him with a harshness in her eyes that makes Peter flinch. "Why would I apologize?"

"Well, someone had to!" he cries defensively, abandoning the chess board to throw his hands up in the air. "Honestly, it's getting a little bit ridiculous."

"Yeah," Sirius agrees, now leaning his head against Jo's shoulder, "now James is spending all his time with Lily and her mates, and we hardly even see him."

Peter nods. "He's annoyed as well because he thinks we took your side."

"We did kind of take your side."

"And now McKinnon won't talk to us and Lily's upset and really, Josie, it's a mess."

"Even Mooney's having it out at us," Sirius complains loudly, shooting upright again as if the idea of Remus not speaking to him has electrified him. "Says he won't talk to you until you apologize to Lily."

Jo clenches her fists; heart pounding and she has to bite back the thought that these people are supposed to be her friends too. "Maybe James should be the one apologizing to me, considering this entire situation is his fault," she argues, teeth practically grinding into dust.

Sirius blinks. "I mean, you did make her cry, Josie."

"She knows I don't like her! Should've left me alone."

"It's not really her fault James was calling her over," Peter reminds her, words carefully placed, eyes flashing between Jo and Sirius.

"Yeah, I mean we all agree that he's being a bit of a prat, and we know you really don't like her, but she didn't really do anything wrong here, Jo."

Jo finds that she doesn't have anything to say to that, even though she really would like to. She crosses her arms over her chest. "Whatever."

"Just apologize, Josie," Sirius urges, pouting. "He'll forget all about it after that, and then it'll be like nothing ever happened. Come on, please? We can't wreak havoc on the Slytherins if Mooney and Prongs aren't even speaking to us."

"No."

Sirius sighs, shoulders slumping and his head rolls off to the side. "I've got to get a girl to spend all my time with, then. Hey, Josie, how's your mate Vance?"

"Not interested," Jo replies, tone clipped.

"What do you mean 'not interested '?" he shoots back, outraged. "Did she tell you?"

Jo gives him a simple shrug. "She fancies Remus right now."

"What?"

"Everyone fancies Remus," Jo tells him, enjoying the way Sirius's face has dropped.

"Why?"

"Because he's tall."

"I'm tall!"

"Not as tall as Remus."

Sirius puffs his chest out. "How tall is Reed, then?"

"Taller than you," Jo answers simply.

Sirius collapses now, limbs limp like jelly, looking like he's about to get sucked into the couch beneath him. "Now I'm really depressed," he whines, and his performance his enough to make Jo chuckle.

"You're still taller than me, Pads," Peter says, finally reaching to move his pawn.

"Still taller than Wormy," Sirius agrees, though it seems the reminder does nothing to cheer him up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jo comes around to the idea of apologizing while she's stuck up in the library with Reed, shooting Remus desperate looks, which he dutifully ignores with his nose shoved deep into his book. Three rolls of parchment due on wordless spells and all she has is Ivan, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and rambling about Hufflepuff Quidditch plays and reminding her too much of her dumb brother.

And she doesn't even know what she's supposed to be talking about in her stupid essay and she doesn't know what she's supposed to be doing and all the vitriol that's been spat in her direction has left her feeling short.

She just about bites Ivan's head off when he says to her, "I heard you're fighting with your brother." Charming or not, he's chipping away at the end of her nerves.

Jo slams her hand down on the table, dropping her quill and ignoring the way the ink splatters everywhere. "Merlin, can no one mind their own business?"

Ivan flinches at her outburst. "You know you can talk to me about it, if you'd like," he says, like he's afraid of whatever she might say next.

The strain in her tone makes her shift. She frowns. "Erm, thanks."

He leans in closer to her, his forehead tilted towards her. "So, do you?"

"Want to talk about it? No."

"Well, why not?" he presses, and Jo has to inhale three times slowly before she answers.

"I don't have anything to say about it," she tells him.

"You can always open up to me, if you need to."

Jo gives him a nod, and picks her quill back up, ready to go back to her essay. "Noted."

Her quill scratches against the parchment for all of five seconds before Ivan speaks up again. "Do you not like kissing me?"

The question catches her off guard. Jo looks up at Ivan with a furrowed brow, and she's sure that she must have misheard him. "What?"

"I mean, you haven't kissed me since our date," he explains, the top of his knee hitting hers as he speaks and it's like every second, he gets just a little bit closer to her. "It just seems like you don't want to anymore."

Jo struggles. "Oh, erm. I dunno. Haven't really thought about it."

And she hadn't. It was never anything she had noticed or kept track of, but really it hadn't even been that long since their date in Hogsmeade and she's not even really sure what the status of their relationship is and she's so busy trying to think of it she doesn't object when Ivan bumps his nose against hers and presses his lips soft into hers and Jo isn't sure what about it is different from the first one, but something definitely is.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jo seeks him out before the end of the week.

She's staring at his spot at the Slytherin table, an empty space where Regulus usually sits. And without a word to either Alice or Dorcas, she stands from her spot and heads out towards the corridors. It's an action without much forethought, Jo admits to herself, but her legs are carrying her towards the Greenhouse without much of a plan.

Echoes of her footsteps rattle around in her head and she thinks she just wants to clear the air before she's stuck in the dungeons with him for two bloody hours or maybe she's aching to know what he would have said to her in the owlery had Reed not shown up or maybe she would just like to prove to him that she's not a drunken fool who lacks the capacity to take care of herself. But, regardless of her reasons, she takes long strides to where she thinks Regulus will be.

He's seated in the same spot she was just a few nights before, when the rest of her stomach contents were inching up her throat. Now it is the pallor of his skin that stands out, the sharp outline of his nose, of his jaw, contrasting against the heavy darkness of the night.

Regulus doesn't acknowledge her as she approaches. "Oi, Black!" she calls to him, voice harsh and demanding, not the soft, unsure whispering of his first name that she used the last time she spoke with him. Jo's tone is clear, there is no more weakness in her left for him to see.

He lifts his head towards her but makes no motion to stand. "Potter," he greets, voice smooth and hushed and there's no edge to it, nothing about it matches the way she's speaking to him. "How are your first years meant to find their way back from dinner if you're all the way out here?"

Jo doesn't justify that with a response and she hardly even notices that he's teasing her. "Listen, I'm sorry you had to deal with me the other night, and thanks for looking out," she rambles, looking him straight in the eye and not letting her voice waver, "but I would really appreciate it if you, well, just forgot about it."

Regulus shrugs and echoes her words from just a few weeks ago. "Consider it forgotten."

"Good," Jo nods, and turns on her heel before stopping, and swiveling around. "And, thanks, of course," she rushes out, and goes to leave once more.

She only takes a few steps before he calls out to her. "Potter!" Jo stops again, turning to face him. "Can I give you a bit of unsolicited advice?" he asks.

"Go on then."

"Your pride's not more important than your brother."

Whatever sharp retort she has working up dies on the tip of her tongue when she catches the look in his eyes. Regulus is, with a soft smile on his lips, like the ghost of his older brother, and something rings in her chest. He would know, she thinks to herself, and when she's staring at him, she realizes, for the first time, why Sirius goes silent at the idea of Regulus. She gives him nothing but a nod, and turns on her heel, a new conviction in her step.

Jo, as she takes quick, urgent strides back to the Great Hall, wonders what kind of hole would form in her chest if her brother left her for another family, and finds that there's a new sort of sympathy she has for the younger Black brother. It churns in her.

Dinner is still well under way when Jo steps back into the Great Hall, no hesitation in her as she walks right past Dorcas and Alice, who are watching her wide, confused expressions. Jo has her hands in little fists as she counts her breaths and spots the redhead at the far end of the table, laughing with her friends.

Jo thinks that she's really a victim of circumstance here, and that it's not really fair that Lily gets to laugh and enjoy herself, while Jo's got nothing but glares and sneers on her behalf. Still, she pushes that feeling down and ignores the looks from those by her side, Marlene, Remus, Mary, James, looking about ready to rip her throat out for Lily if Jo says one wrong thing. Jo pretends that there's not a pang in her heart at that and looks directly at Lily, who has now noticed Jo and let the laughter on her lips die down to a thin pressed line. "Look, Evans-"

"Josephine-" Remus cuts her off, ready to stop whatever he thinks is going to happen.

But Jo's not having it. She shoots him a glare. "Piss off, Lupin," Jo snarls at him, and turns back to Lily. "Look, I'm sorry I made you cry. You may not be my favorite person but that gives me no right to make you feel like shite. I was irritated at my stupid git of a brother, and I took that out on you. I'm sorry."

Lily blinks, and ever so dignified, gives Jo a nod and says, "I appreciate that. Apology accepted."

"Right then."

Jo turns to leave, feeling stupid and flustered and she plans on spending the rest of the night locked up in her dorm. But as she shakes her head, trying to get rid of any unwanted thoughts and feelings, James calls to her, "Wait, Josie!"

Her older brother is rushing towards her, grabbing her by the elbow and giving her a bright grin. "Thanks for doing that, I know it must've been hard. And well, I really appreciate it," he tells her, and moves to wrap his arms around her.

Jo takes a step back, away from his embrace. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me?"

James blinks, tilting his head and frowning. "What do you mean?"

The feeling she got at Regulus's words has suddenly dissolved, and she thinks that her brother has not learned the lesson she has. "You really are a stupid git," she says to him, thinking that she might cry, but turning her back on him before she can.