Not Inevitable

James is honestly a little pissed off. Now he’s fine with me telling Sirius?! he thinks. It was one of the things we fought about most and Reg was always so insistent. But as soon as it’s over, it’s no big deal? It’s still a big deal to me!

But James doesn’t have very long to be angry and confused before he’s back in the library of Grimmauld Place inside Regulus’s biggest secret. James is really sick of Grimmauld Place. Sirius and Regulus must be too. They have been sick of it for a lifetime already.

They both deflate as the mist builds up into the walls of books around them.

James grabs Sirius’s hand and is surprised when Regulus looks at them, at Sirius, and says, “I’m sorry. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m sorry I did it.” And then Regulus takes a few steps back, against the wall, and looks at the floor. James can tell he doesn’t intend to look up again until it’s over.

Sirius already has tears in his eyes, though whether they are due to the memory about to play out before them or Regulus’s apology, James isn’t sure. Sirius probably isn’t sure either. He’s squeezing James’s hand very hard and is doing the same to Remus’s on his other side.

“Reggie,” Sirius turns to his brother, “this is mine too. I’m sorry too.” Regulus doesn’t seem to hear Sirius, but James knows he does. He can see his eyes get a little bit wider, his jaw clench a little bit tighter, his fists ball up a little smaller. Sirius lets go of his friends’ hands and stands next to his brother. Neither of them make any further move to acknowledge the other, but they’re both there, and they both stay. And that’s more of a relationship than they’ve had in a long time.

But James really wants something, someone, to hold on to right now. Because he knows what’s about to happen. Of course this is their biggest secret. And Peter and Remus are there. All three of them ready to spring into action as soon as Sirius may need, but until then they’re going to hold onto each other as they watch the boy they love break.

He’s already breaking. Regulus’s memory starts in the middle as the last of the mist swirls into place. Sirius is already on the floor. He’s on his stomach and he's not wearing a shirt.

No, that’s not accurate. He is wearing a shirt. It’s just been torn to pieces. And so has the boy wearing it.

Walpurga Black is screaming and slashing her wand through the air, making more cuts and drawing more blood. Sirius seems too far gone to really notice, but unfortunately is still conscious. Orion Black is sitting in a chair behind her, not actively participating, but seeming to approve of his wife’s actions and certainly doing nothing to stop her.

And then she does stop, breathing heavily. Sirius doesn’t move, he probably can’t move. He’s gasping for breath and his eyes are unfocused. There’s blood everywhere, so much blood.

James wants to look over his shoulder at the Black brothers, who hopefully haven’t looked up from the floor at their feet, but he can’t bring himself to. He can’t bring himself to look anywhere except for the eyes of his half-dead best friend, bleeding out at the hands of his mother.

Walpurga steps to the side, revealing Memory-Regulus standing against the wall. James recognizes the empty stare and the blank expression– he forced himself to shut down, to be numb so he doesn’t have to feel anything. James has always hated that vacant face, and he still does, but part of him wants to know his trick so he can do it too and not have to feel anything in this moment.

“Regulus,” Wlapurga says calmly. Regulus does not answer or react in any way. James wouldn’t be surprised if he shut down so completely that he isn’t actually seeing or hearing anything around him, or at least not processing it as it's happening.  “REGULUS!” she shouts.

His eyes shoot to his mother and he flinches against the wall. James wants to run and stand in front of him, put himself between the boy and his mother before she can hurt her second son too. But James can’t move, and even if he could, it wouldn’t change a thing. This is a memory, there’s nothing he can do. James hates that too.

Regulus’s eyes flick from his mother to his brother bleeding on the ground. His gray eyes change from hollow to filled with terror in the time it takes him to blink.

“Your turn,” Walpurga says.

James’s jaw drops. Sirius has never told him this part. Sirius really hasn’t told him any details about any instances. Everything James knows about the Black’s abuse he knows from living with the son they traumatized, seeing his reflexes and his scars, the few dark jokes Sirius makes sometimes to cope, and the two times Sirius showed up at his house bleeding. Maybe Pandora was right, James thinks, I never really knew anything.

“What?” Regulus asks, genuinely confused as his eyes widen in shock and even more fear.

“It is your turn, Regulus. Raise your wand and cast the spell.”

“What?” Regulus repeats, as tears threaten to spill over. “No. No, I can’t do–”

“You can and you will, Regulus.”

And then the tears do spill over. Regulus is shaking his head no and he takes a few steps sideways along the wall, away from his mother and away from Sirius.

All of a sudden, his face changes completely, back to the mask that reveals nothing, back to the Regulus that feels nothing, though some tears still escape, and he raises his wand at his brother.

“Crucio.”

James barely comprehends where he is when his feet land back on the stone floor of the room of requirement. James’s brain really doesn’t seem capable of remembering anything. He feels like he isn’t even really in his body. Except he definitely is because his body wants to throw up.

James hardly remembers who he is, his own name even. But he knows he needs to check on Sirius and Regulus.

They’re still next to each other, as they had been in the pensieve, though neither is standing anymore. Regulus is sitting on the floor with his knees bent, arms wrapped around them with his head resting on top. He’s completely still. James isn’t even sure if he’s breathing.

Next to him Sirius is most definitely breathing, though gasping may be a more accurate descriptor. He’s on his hands and knees, fighting to drag air into his lungs.

James still can’t move. Even if he could, what would he possibly do?

“Reggie,” Sirius struggles to say “Wait. Reggie, I don’t– I can’t–” Through his gasps, James can only make out some of what he’s trying to say. “--no sense. Why is that— no sense!” Regulus does not pick his head up from his knees or react.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Remus says, wrapping his arms around Sirius.

“No,” Regulus says calmly, finally lifting his face from his arms. It’s his vacant face, but at least it’s clear he’s still breathing. “There’s only two people left, let’s just get it over with.”

Everyone’s attention turns to Sirius, who is now remembering how to breathe properly. “Yeah. Besides,” he looks to James, “I wanna know what Prongs has been keeping from me.”

He said it in such a way that it could be taken as a joke, but James’s heart falls into his stomach. He’s going to hate me. Sirius is barely holding it together, Regulus has retreated into his own mind, everyone looks exhausted from reliving the literal nightmares that most of his classmates already lived through one too many times. James’s secret isn’t even bad, but it’s going to shake Sirius’s entire foundation, maybe Regulus’s too, depending on what his friends already know. Not that Regulus seems to care anymore.

“It’s okay James,” Remus says. “Whatever it is, we won’t be mad at you for keeping it from us. You already said it wasn’t your secret to tell.”

James takes a deep breath and takes the stopper off the vial. “You might not be mad at me, but Sirius will be.” Sirius doesn’t seem to know what to make of that and tilts his head to the side. Sirius has always had total faith in him. James isn’t looking forward to breaking it. He looks to Regulus, still hiding in his own head. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes James. Stop stalling and just do it.”

He pours the silvery strands into the basin as everyone moves to circle around the pensieve yet again.

The walls swirl into place in the Hogwarts owlery, January of fifth year. Memory-James has just tied a letter to his parents to his owl’s leg and sent it on its way. He takes a moment to appreciate the sunrise on the snowy grounds before he turns to make his way down to the pitch for early morning Quidditch training, but he doesn’t even manage one step after turning. In fact he takes a step back into the wall in surprise when he sees Regulus standing in the middle of the space, staring straight at him.

“Shit, you scared me Reggie,” James says

“Don’t call me that,” is Regulus’s cold response. He’s standing straight-backed, feet shoulder-width apart, with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Okay, sorry.” James puts his hands up in mock surrender, then moves one to run it through his hair. When Regulus doesn’t say anything further or make any moves to send a letter or pet the owls. James asks, “Is there, um, something I can help you with?”

Regulus looks down at his feet for a few moments, then looks back up to James and opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it instead.

“Is everything alright?” James asks.

“That’s what I need you to tell me.”

“Sure, okay.”

Regulus does not elaborate

“Well I’m doing great,” James says lightly. “Sent a letter to my parents, about to go to training. They had chocolate pudding at dinner last night, so I’m still riding that high.” James chuckles, but Regulus just glowers at him. “Is there anything in particular you would like me to tell you about?”

“Yes,” Regulus seethes. “I didn’t track you down at this ungodly hour just to get a Potter life update.” He still doesn’t make his point known, but it clicks for James then.

This is so weird, Now-James thinks. Is my face really that obvious when I figure things out?

Memory-James flicks his eyes to the floor before looking back to Regulus. “Sirius,” James says. Regulus doesn’t say anything to confirm or deny James’s assumption but his gaze shifts to the floor again and his glare deepens.

James knew how hard it must have been for Regulus to seek him out to check on his brother, so he didn't tease or ask Regulus to confirm.

“He’s alright,” James answers the unspoken question softly. “He floo’ed to my house and my mum fixed him up. The next few days were a little tense, he was terrified that your parents were going to come take him back like they did in third year. Not that my mum would have let them without a fight after seeing his legs. But he’s alright.”

Regulus doesn’t look up from the floor, but nods. He turns towards the stairs that lead down to the rest of the castle, but James interrupts him.

“Are you okay Regulus?” James asks gently.

Regulus freezes and his shoulders tense up. His hands move from where they were clasped behind his back to his sides, where they ball into fists. James hurries around him, now blocking Regulus from the stairs in order to see his face.

For the first time outside of when Regulus and Sirius used to get into shouting matches in the hall, James watches Regulus’s walls come down. It was a relatively subtle thing, only a small breach in his defenses. His body stayed tensed and straight and his face remained blank, but James could see emotions, too many or too complex to identify, swimming in his gray eyes. Now-James still can’t get a good grasp on what was going through his head, even after getting to know him better. James isn’t sure Regulus has let anybody ever really know him.

Regulus almost looks like he might throw a punch, but then his eyes cloud over with their usual carefully constructed blankness and he simply walks past James to the stairs instead.

“I’m up here most mornings if you ever want to talk. Or if you want any more updates on Sirius,” James says to Regulus’s retreating figure.

The mist swirls a little bit, building into the walls of the astronomy tower. Now rather than a snowy sunrise, there’s a sky full of stars and icicles refreezing after spending the day melting in the sun. Regulus is the one already in the space this time, with James climbing the stairs. He’s slumped against the low wall, looking out at the stars with a bottle in his hand.

“You’re late,” Regulus says, “I never beat you  here.” He’s speaking slowly and his words are a little bit slurred.

“Are you drunk, Regulus?” James teases

“Indeed,” he replies, raising his bottle in a salute. James laughs, throwing his head back.

Memory-James didn’t see, but Now-James can tell that Regulus smiled at him. A full smile, not just the corners inching up, but an actual smile that made his eyes crinkle up a little bit.

James closes the distance between them and slides down the wall to sit cross legged next to Regulus.

“Celebrating the big win against Ravenclaw I take it?” James guesses

“Yes I am.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you knew how to have fun, Reg.”

Regulus lets out a sound of mock shock and turns so he can push James over by his shoulder. Unfortunately for Regulus, he really is drunk and James catches his hands quite easily. “Gotcha,” James laughs.

Regulus huffs. “No you don’t,” and tries to pull his hands back. James lets go quickly once he realizes what Regulus wants, but the other boy wasn’t expecting it and falls backwards. He reaches out and catches James’s arm with his free hand to prevent hitting the floor and James pulls him in. This puts them pretty close together when Regulus says “Thanks.”

Now-James watches Memory-James’s eyes focus on Regulus’s lips. Well that’s embarrassing, he thinks.

“No problem,” James replies. Neither of the two boys move. Not until Regulus takes a deep breath and kisses him. James freezes.

“What the fuck?” Regulus, Now-Regulus, says, just as Memory-Regulus pulls back and says, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Memory James says. “Just took me by surprise is all.”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Memory-Regulus says

“Maybe,” James says, “But only because you’re drunk. I wouldn’t mind if you try again when you’re sober.”

Now-James knows that he pulls away from Regulus and they start talking about the Quidditch game in the memory, but he is currently more focused on Now-Regulus, which requires him to turn his back to the memory.

“What the fuck?” Now-Regulus repeats when James turns to him.

“I’m sorry,” James says. “You said to just do it, that they would all see it in your head anyways. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Regulus cuts him off. “Well I didn’t know that this is something that you think about.”

“What other secret would I have that involves you?” James asks indignantly. “What exactly did you think I was referring to as our secret if not this?”

“I thought you just meant the first part, with me asking about Sirius. How was I supposed to know that you fantasize about me kissing you?!”

“Wait Reg, what do you mean–” James starts, but is cut off by the mist swirling around them and being tugged upside down and rightside up until they all land back on the stone floor.

Before James can properly get his bearings, Sirius is yelling, “You kissed my little brother?!”

“Well if you were paying attention, he kissed me first,” James says, trying to lighten up the situation.

“NO,” Sirius and Regulus both shout at the same time. Sirius continues with, “That is not an excuse, James Potter and you know it! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you kissed my brother!” Sirius shoves James, not as hard as James knows he could have, but enough that he stumbles away from the circle. He takes a few more steps back, Sirius following him.

“I’m sorry!” James yells.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“It’s not going on anymore!”

“Okay, fine. How long did it go on without you telling me?

“Sirius–”

“How long, Potter?!”

“Most of spring term!” James yells.

“James,” Regulus says from where he is still standing by the pensieve, over Sirius’s shoulder. His face is mostly blank still, but his head is tilted to the side in confusion and his hands are fists at his sides. “What are you talking about? Nothing is going on–”

“Yeah, I know!” James yells. “We broke up! Thanks for telling me, I got the message the first time around. Your complete avoidance of me this entire term was loud and clear, don’t worry.

“Potter I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Regulus says, hints of anger sneaking through his walls now.

“Reg, I get if you don’t want to talk about it–” James says

“I want to talk about it!” Sirius interjects. Both Regulus and James ignore him, quite the feat given that he’s standing between them.

James continues, “But you’re the one who said to share our biggest secrets okay? And that’s mine.”

“That never happened!” Regulus shouts.

“What?” James says, quieter now. “But you told me you did remember it.” He steps around Sirius swearing at him under his breath back towards Regulus.  “I was worried you wouldn’t, you were pretty drunk. But you did. A week later you asked me if I was sober and when I said I was you said ‘me too’ and then you kissed me again. And then I said ‘so you do remember that’ because you didn’t say anything about it all week and you said ‘yeah.’”

“That never happened!” Regulus says, raising the volume of the argument again. “None of it! I have no idea what you think we were doing for six months last term, but I literally have no memory of any of this!”

“Fuck,” Sirius says, though quietly this time. His anger seems to have been replaced with horror.

James doesn’t know what to do. He feels close to tears. Why is he doing this? He told James to share his memories. He came out to the group like everyone else. Why is he pretending it never happened?I thought we were happy, I still don’t even know why we broke up, why he stopped talking to me. What did I do that was so terrible? I thought I made him happy…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sirius says as he rejoins the group. “No fucking way.”

“Sirius–” James starts, once again.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he snaps, back to anger apparently. “It’s my turn.”

“Pads,” Remus tries, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

Sirius ignores him. “Reggie,” he says, staring very intently at his brother. “I need you to watch this very closely. You can’t look at the floor this time. Please. You have to watch this time.”

“Sirius, I don’t–” Regulus replies, only to be cut off as well

“Please, Reggie. Promise me you’ll pay attention.”

“Okay,” Regulus agrees, though it looks like it’s the last thing in the world he wants to do. “Okay.”

And then Sirius’s memory turns the water to silver and the mist swirls into the walls of Grimmauld Place for the last time.

Sirius’s memory starts earlier than Regulus’s had. He’s being backed into a room, the Black Library of fucking course, by his mother. James doesn’t know what happened to start this situation, but she is clearly pissed about something. Her wand pointed at Sirius’s chest backs him into a chair in front of the fireplace.

James notices more about the room this time. The pot of floo powder that was above the fireplace, the floo powder that was Sirius’s escape to his house during the previous winter holidays, is missing. In the middle of the fireplace is a large, ornate green and silver box, probably a priceless heirloom of some sort.

On each side of the box, is a small portrait of one of the Black brothers. Regulus’s looks up to date, the boy in the painting is roughly fourteen years old. Even in the painting, his face is blank and his eyes seem to hold nothing. Sirius’s is clearly not up to date, probably painted before he was sorted into Gryffindor though it could be from after. Definitely before he turned thirteen when he lost a lot of the round childish aspects of his features and grew into his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Where Regulus’s portrait showed nothing, Sirius’s shows his rage simmering below the surface, even at that young age.

But the eyes of the portrait displayed only a hint of the hatred and anger currently in the eyes of sixteen year old Sirius Black, glaring down the end of his mother’s wand pointed at his chest, silently daring her to do it.

“This is your last chance, Sirius,” Walpurga says firmly. “Agree to take the mark, to do your duty to this family at last.”

“No.” Sirius’s answer doesn’t sound particularly angry or vengeful, though his eyes remain full of fury. The syllable rings clearly through the room.

“Why not?” Walpurga spits, though she doesn’t wait for an answer before slapping her son across the face and muttering “Legilimens.”

James can still see Sirius sitting in the chair, Walpurga still leaning over him as she had to reach down and hit him, but he can also see Walpurga digging through Sirius’s mind, the images playing out as if they were on a sheer curtain between James and the memory.

James really can’t make out much of the images at first, they’re flipping past too fast to make sense of. He sees his own face, as well as the other Marauders' and a few hints of the fifth year Gryffindor girls. Walpurga lands on an image of Mary MacDonald, specifically of Sirius pushing her against a stone wall of the castle and kissing her, an activity he was quite fond of during most of fourth year.

“Really Sirius?” Walpurga scoffs, “A Mudblood?”

But then Sirius’s grip on his mind must slip, and instead of Mary it’s Remus. This image is hazier, the surroundings less clear, almost fluid. If James had to guess it was probably a dream Sirius had had, or maybe a fantasy. And then the image turns back to solid, back to Mary. Remus’s face was only there for half a moment, you could blink and miss it.

Walpurga did not miss it.

“No,” she says, eerily similar to how her son had said it a few moments earlier. Calm but firm. Not shouting, but clear all the same. Her hand comes up and slaps him again.

“Toujour pur, Sirius. Did you forget? Or do you need a reminder?” Sirius says nothing, the rage in his eyes remains, but they cloud with fear now too.

“Crucio,” she says pointedly.

Sirius screams, falling out of his chair and the memory turns fuzzy and black around the edges.

“Crucio!” She yells this time, and the memory fades to black.

When the shapes and colors of the room appear again, James is looking at the exact same memory Regulus had shown earlier. Regulus against the back wall, behind his mother with Orion in a chair behind her and Sirius bleeding out on the floor. Walpurga, slicing at his back before stopping and turning to Regulus.

“Regulus.” No response. “REGULUS!” Flinching against the wall. “Your turn.” Terror and backing away.

“What?”

“It is your turn, Regulus. Raise your wand and cast the spell.”

“What? No. No, I can’t do–”

“You can and you will, Regulus.”

And then Regulus raises his wand as he steps toward his brother with tears sliding down his cheeks, but his face and eyes hollowed out.

“Vulnera sanentur,” Regulus mutters.

Not Crucio, not Lacero. Nothing to hurt his brother. A healing spell.

James watches as some of the blood pooled around Sirius starts to move the other way, back into the wounds, into his body where it belongs.

“No,” Sirius rasps. “Reggie don’t, please.” He looks like he’s trying to get off the floor, but he can’t. The edges of the memory go fuzzy again with the effort and his head bangs back down onto the floor.

“Vulnera sanentur,” Regulus repeats, a little louder as Sirius whimpers “Please don’t.”

Walpurga raises her wand at Regulus now, shouting “Lacero!” and a deep cut forms across Regulus’s chest, followed by a few more. Blood seeps through Regulus’s shirt and drips onto the floor. His face never breaks from his vacant mask.

“Reggie–” is the last thing Sirius manages to say before his eyes flutter closed and he passes out, plunging them into darkness again.

In the dark, Now-Regulus says “Sirius, I don’t understand–”

“Shut up and watch,” Sirius snaps back as the library once again comes back into focus.

Memory-Sirius doesn’t seem to have moved from where he lost consciousness, though Regulus is now slumped in the chair Sirius had once been sitting in. He’s got a fair amount of blood on his clothes, though it seems like the bleeding has stopped and there’s no puddle under him. Whether the bleeding stopped on its own or whether Regulus managed to heal himself by magic is unclear. Most of Sirius’s bleeding has stopped too, though a couple wounds still have small streams of blood.

Before Sirius even opens his eyes all the way he’s calling for Regulus.

“Reggie?” Panic is clear in his voice and he tries to push himself up from the floor.

“Woah, slow down, slow down,” Regulus says, moving from the chair to kneel beside Sirius. His blank mask is gone, probably shattered by Walpurga. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get all the bleeding to stop–”

“Reggie,” Sirius interrupts urgently. “Are you okay? What happened? Where–”

“Breathe Sirius. For the love of Merlin, just breathe please.” Regulus helps him sit up, Sirius clearly in pain throughout the small motion. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. She barely even did anything to me, she went back to you. She–” He cuts himself off with a choking sound. “She almost killed you,” he continues in a whisper. “She was going to kill you. Father pulled her away. I don’t know where to or how long they’ll be gone. But they left my wand on the ground so I’m going to get you out of here okay?”

“What?” Sirius says, incredulously.

“I’m going to get you out, okay? I’ll get you to Potter, he’ll know what to do, or his parents will. You’ll be okay, but I need you to concentrate okay? You’re probably too hurt to apparate, but I literally don’t know what else to do, so you need to focus on not splinching yourself, alright?”

“Reggie, wait–”

“No, no waiting. Can you stand up?”

Sirius nods, though it looks like the action could kill him. He starts to move and Regulus helps him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Sirius grunts at the contact with his wounds, but he stays conscious and actually manages to stay upright.

“You’re coming with me, right?” Sirius asks, fighting to keep his eyes open, a fight he wins for now.

“I’m going to get you to James, I promise.”

“That’s not what I meant–” Sirius starts, but Regulus doesn’t give him a chance to scold him. In a flash, the two brothers are no longer in the library, but under the night sky on a sidewalk in front of the Potter’s Cottage.

Sirius sags, unable to hold his weight and more blood flowing now than before the apparition, but Regulus keeps him on his feet.

“We’re almost there, Sirius, just a few more steps. Just a few more steps, I promise.”

The boys take those few steps and then they’re standing right at the front door.

“Reggie,” Sirius says, panic in his voice again. “Stay. Please stay. Don’t leave me, don’t go back there.”

Regulus doesn’t answer, but maneuvers Sirius carefully to the ground. He’s bleeding more heavily now and he’s fighting with his eyelids again.

“You can’t,” Sirius pleads, tears spilling over, “Please don’t.”

Regulus says nothing. He pounds on the front door and runs to hide in the bushes that line the Potter Cottage as Sirius’s eyes slide shut and the image goes dark.

James remembers the next part, though he had no idea Regulus was in the bushes.

He found Sirius in front of the door, covered in blood, and thought he was dead. He yelled, didn’t even yell anything in particular, he couldn’t form any words. But his parents rushed down the stairs at the noise, or maybe they were already on their way from the knocking, and found him holding his best friend in his arms. Sirius slept for three and a half days. When he woke up, he refused to talk about it.

Back on solid ground, surrounding the pensieve, the Black brothers geared up to do what they do best– fight.

They move towards the middle of the room, though James can’t tell if Regulus is pushing Sirius backwards or if Sirius is leading Regulus forwards. Regulus’s mask is nowhere to be found. Suspiciously, Sirius’s rage is also nowhere to be found. That doesn’t stop him from yelling, though Regulus starts it.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“What did it look like, Reggie?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen that before. That never happened!”

“Yes, it–”

“What the fuck are you two doing? First Potter, now you. Is this some sort of stupid prank? Because now is so NOT the time.”

“It’s not a prank.”

“Then what the fuck is it? Please, enlighten me, Sirius. Explain to me what the fuck is going on.”

“I’m trying to, you won’t let me get a word in edgewise–”

“Spit it out faster then!”

“If you would just take a minute to think about all of this. The things me and James remember that you don’t. And put that together with the fact that you went back to that house, back to her, and then you wouldn’t speak to me all this term… I think you know. I think you know and that’s why you’re yelling.” Sirius says, softer by the end of his little speech.

“Sirius–” Regulus starts, still looking for a fight.

“Reggie. You said it yourself. You have no memory of these things. Things that Mother wouldn’t approve of. And you said it earlier: the only reason I got out is because you didn’t leave. They could still have their heir.”

“No,” Regulus whispers, “She wouldn’t.”

“You know that she would. She did, Reggie. She took your memories.”