James hated the painting of Sirius' mother. If he'd known the woman he probably would have hated her, too. He muttered as much as he cast a silencing charm on the hallway. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it would work for now. He jerked the curtains over it, vowing for what felt like the millionth time to find a way to get rid of it. A sigh passed his lips without a sound as he followed after Sirius.
Sirius' rage was a palpable thing. The house itself seemed to twist and swell with it. Normally, when Sirius' anger was directed toward someone who probably might not deserve it James' first impulse was to plant himself in Sirius' path. He'd egg the other on until Sirius' rage peaked. It was safer in the long run for Sirius' fist to be slamming into James because he knew Sirius would never really hurt him beyond anything James could bear. Others, however, James didn't reckon were likely to be so lucky. This was the problem with the rest of the Blacks, not their pureblood fanaticism, not their lust for all magic dark and vile - it was what they brought out in Sirius, what they were capable of pushing him to. The Blacks were the best at pushing Sirius to impulsively use magic he normally wouldn't touch. And no more than James had wanted Remus to have to deal with eating Snape did James want Sirius to deal with what he might do to Regulus. Regardless, James was reluctant to take any of Regulus' punches for him, especially when he might so justly deserve them.
There mere conclusion Sirius had drawn have shattered the narrow, cautious trust he'd extended to Regulus, despite his intention to do no such thing. But he'd seen Sirius with Regulus, and nothing about their interactions, or even the very, very strange afternoon James and the younger Black had drunk themselves into respective stupors, had fanned the embers of his suspicion. Part of him wrote it off to his internal need for balance. If Sirius was coming unbound James' own anger tended to temper, which was a handy way of keeping them out of more trouble than was needed. The worst was when they both flew off the handle, when they were both seeing too red to think clearly. But for this, for Sirius'... ugh, he reluctant to call Regulus Sirius' brother, it was more important that nothing irreparable happened. Especially when Regulus' level of guilt wasn't exactly crystal clear.
"Sirius," James sighed, typical hand through his hair. "You can't just go running after him."