Exit Wounds

It took all of Regulus’s willpower to act normal around his parents. At the dinner table, his hand gripped his fork so tightly, his knuckles turned white. But Regulus was a master of schooling his expression, of hiding his emotions. He just had to pretend he didn’t know who Sirius was and he didn’t remember his parents Obliviating him.

The whole time his expression stayed cool and collected, anger boiled beneath the surface, waiting for the opportunity to burst out.

Once he got back to Hogwarts, he could figure out what to do. Facing his parents head on wasn’t the answer. It was likely to get a curse or two sent his way. No. Regulus would have to play the long game with this.

But before he could even start thinking about getting revenge on his parents, he had to figure out what happened to Sirius.

Sirius’s bedroom was empty. Something had happened that Regulus’s parents wanted him to forget. The theories Regulus was coming up with weren’t reassuring.

The only way he could find out for sure was to get back to Hogwarts. Sirius would be at Hogwarts. He had to be.

Which is what brought Regulus Black to where he is now: September 1st, standing on the platform with his trunk, scanning the faces for anyone familiar.

He didn’t even know what Sirius looked like. What if he didn’t recognize him? Did Sirius even look like him?

After several minutes, Regulus still didn’t see anyone he thought was his brother. The panic started to set in. All the theories Regulus had been pushing down came to the surface.

What if his parents had killed Sirius? As terrifying as the thought was, it would make sense. Sirius was missing. His parents had wanted him to forget. If they had killed Sirius, they would want to make sure Regulus didn’t remember it.

Regulus’s scanning of the platform became more frantic. Some of his classmates gave him strange glances as he swiveled his head around and spun in a circle, searching every face for a face he didn’t remember.

Then, he spotted him. A bolt of recognition stopped him short as he stared at the person.

He was a little older than Regulus, maybe by a year or two. He had obsidian black hair, the black hair passed down from Orion’s sleek pitch black hair and Walburga’s ebony curls. He wore his hair long, wild, and untamed, though, in a way Walburga would’ve definitely disapproved of. He had pale skin, smooth like glass, and pointed features that every Black had. His smile was crooked in a way that reminded Regulus of his own when he smiled (which was rare).

Regulus knew without a doubt. This was his brother. Sirius.

Sirius was talking to two adults Regulus didn’t know. One was a tall man with black hair; most of it was tamed, but a single strand of black hair fell over his forehead. He was grinning unapologetically. The other was a woman with her brown hair tied up in a messy bun, a couple of tendrils handing down the sides of her face. She had a kind smile. She placed her hands on Sirius’s shoulders and drew him in to press a tender, motherly kiss to Sirius’s forehead.

Regulus realized that Sirius had found a new family. An almost instinctive anger rose up in his chest, but then, it softened. He couldn’t blame Sirius. Remembering how their parents had Obliviated him, Regulus wished he could escape Grimmauld, too, but unlike Sirius, he didn’t have another family to run to. The anger turned to sadness.

For now, though, he was just relieved his brother was safe.

Regulus pulled his gaze away from Sirius, picked up his trunk, and reluctantly turned away from his brother. He boarded the train and found an empty compartment.

Tears Regulus would never allow himself to shed rose into his eyes, and Regulus scrubbed the tears away before anyone could see.

His brother was safe. Regulus was relieved. But… beneath that, he felt an all too familiar feeling- the feeling of being replaced. The feeling was familiar, but Regulus couldn’t grasp the memories that made it familiar. He realized that… maybe Sirius had replaced him before.

Regulus scrubbed another tear away as he sat down in the compartment.

The door slid open, and Regulus was about to tell the person to bugger off when he looked up and his eyes widened in surprise.

James Potter, mischievous prankster and flirtatious (and handsome, but Regulus would never say that out loud) Gryffindor, stepped into the compartment and closed the door. He stared at Regulus with a cool expression- well, he tried to be cool, but James wore his heart on his sleeve. His anger was obvious in the downturn of his lips and his narrowed eyes.

“I need you to send me something he forgot- some photos,” James said.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Had James ever even spoken to him before? Regulus felt like he had, but for some reason, he couldn’t place the memories, and whenever he tried, a headache pierced his skull and made him wince.

James frowned at him, and Regulus tried to school his expression, hoping Potter hadn’t noticed the wince.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Potter said, his tone turning icy.

“I really don’t,” Regulus countered.

“Come on, Regulus!” Potter snapped. “Those photos are important to him, and I know he would never ask you himself, so-“

“Gryffindor-my best friends-Remus-James-Peter- James and I-“

The memory was too fragmented, sticking Regulus like a needle in the eye. A voice he knew to be Sirius’s floated through his head. In his mind’s eye, he saw a fuzzy figure sitting on a bed. The figure was small; Sirius was obviously younger than he was now. A memory.

Regulus was able to make the connection, though. Gryffindor. Sirius. James. James was Sirius’s friend, and, Regulus realized with a growing certainty, Sirius’s best friend.

Once Regulus realized that, he remembered James standing beside Sirius on the platform. He had been so focused on Sirius, he hadn’t even noticed James.

Sirius had ran away to the Potters.

“Right,” Regulus said distantly. “Sirius.”

James knit his eyebrows, and for a moment, he even looked… worried?

Regulus realized James had spoken several seconds ago, and Regulus had just been staring into space. He tried to compose himself.

“Yeah, I’ll get them to him,” he said, as cool and collected as ever.

“Thanks, Regulus,” James said, looking a little surprised. Then, he added more hesitantly. “Are you… okay, Regulus?”

“Of course I am,” Regulus immediately said defensively.

“Okay,” James replied, not seeming to believe him. He hesitated again. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, James,” Regulus said flatly.

James raised his eyebrows like Regulus had said something surprising, but then,, he said, “Okay… uh, thanks again for the photos.”

James went to close the compartment when Regulus abruptly stood up.

“Wait,” Regulus said. “Is Sirius… okay and everything?” That sounded a lot more awkward than Regulus intended.

James blinked. “Yeah, he’s-he’s fine.”

Regulus relaxed at the confirmation that Sirius was okay. “Good,” Regulus said. “Thank you.”

Regulus sat back down. James stood in the doorway for a moment, and then, he left the compartment, closing the door behind him.

Regulus rubbed his forehead, the headache pulsing. He wanted to push for the memories; he wanted to remember Sirius, but every time he tried, the migraine slammed the door.

Regulus slumped back against his seat. What if he never remembered Sirius? What if all he ever had of his brother was a blank space, a missing puzzle piece, an empty room? A huge part of his life was missing, and Regulus felt empty, hollow, without it. What if he never got it back? What if he never got Sirius back?

Regulus was breathing harder and faster, spiraling into the panic like a bottomless abyss. He felt hot in his robes, and he pulled at his collar, feeling like it was choking him. He pulled at his shirt until buttons popped open, but the choking feeling still didn’t go away, and he couldn’t breathe, but he was swallowing lungfuls of air. The air was lost somewhere in between his mouth and his lungs, his heart and his brain, just like the memories-

The compartment door slid open.

“There you are, Regulus. Where- Regulus!”

The voice barely registered until the person was kneeling in front of him and through tunneled vision, Regulus could see Barty. A second later, Evan was by his side. They both looked so worried, and Regulus knew he was supposed to regain his composure- be composed, be emotionless, Blacks don’t cry, Blacks never cry- but he couldn’t. The panic was washing over him again and again, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Regulus,” Barty said. “Regulus, breathe.”

Couldn’t Barty see that he couldn’t?

Regulus must’ve shaken his head because Barty said, “Yes, you can. You’re breathing too fast.”

Was he? It felt like he wasn’t breathing at all.

“Just follow my breathing, okay, Regulus?” Barty said. He breathed in slowly, paused, and then breathed out. Regulus tried to follow.

Evan placed a hand on Regulus’s, which had been gripping the seat. Regulus focused on the feeling of Evan’s hand over his, a reassuring warmth, the slight chill of Evan’s ring, the feeling of Evan’s thumb rubbing the back of his hand.

The panic started to subside, the waves calming and easing away from the shore. Breathing was easier, and Regulus was able to follow Barty’s breathing more easily.

“You back with us, Regulus?” Barty asked.

Regulus nodded.

Barty moved to sit on the seat next to him, and Evan did the same, but he didn’t take his hand off Regulus’s. Regulus was grateful.

“What happened?” Barty asked.

Regulus didn’t know how to reply, didn’t know how to untangle all the words to explain. His memories were gone; his parents had Obliviated him, and he barely remembered that. So he settled on:

“Sirius ran away.”

Barty and Evan were quiet, not in an awkward way but in an understanding way.

“You okay?” Evan asked before wincing. “Of course you’re not. You just had a panic attack.”

“I’m okay,” Regulus said. He wanted to be. “Seeing him today… and then Potter asked me to send Sirius some pictures he left. It was just a lot.”

“That bastard,” Barty growled. “He just left you.”

“He should’ve left,” Regulus said.

Barty and Evan looked at him in surprise.

“My parents are monsters,” Regulus snarled.

Evan’s eyebrows shot up. “I mean, we’ve all known that for years, but what finally made you say it?”

Regulus shrugged. “I’ve been a puppet for too long.”

Barty smirked. “Is little Reggie rebelling?”

Regulus smirked right back. “I guess so.”

“Does this mean you’ll finally come to the start of the year party with us?” Evan asked in excitement.

“Sure, why not?” Regulus agreed. “I could use a distraction… or maybe a couple bottles of it.”

“Yeah!” Barty cheered.