Stars Will Fall

Regulus never felt right. Yes, he was honest, yes, he did everything a good heir should do (unlike Sirius), he used his manners, and he did what he was supossed to do. But still, he almost never felt right. He’s felt right a few times in his life, like when he snuck into his elder brothers closet and wore his fancy suits instead of his lacy dresses, when he stared at that horrid tapestry for hours looking for a name that felt like his, not the one that Walburga called him.

“So you’re telling me you could have literally picked any name you wanted, and you picked…Regulus?” Sirius had said when he told him. “Okay, whatever makes you happy…. putain de merde,”

But when Sirius called him Regulus or called him his brother instead of ‘sister’ it made him have this weird feeling he didnt know if he was supposed to feel. it was almost like a fire in his chest but good? He had never felt that with Walburga, so he doesnt know if he’s allowed to feel that way. But Regulus doesn’t have to worry about that anymore, since Sirius ran away a year, two months and eight days ago. He doesn’t want to count the days, but he can’t stop or lose track. Hell, has he tried. He does not want to pay any mind to Sirius. He doesn’t want to cry over the note that he didnt leave and he definitely isnf bitter about it and wished he had left something, anything for Regulus to hold on to.

But he needs to remind himself that Sirius was a failure. Sirius is a failure. He was never a good heir, he was never a good son, and he never used his etiquette. Regulus needs to remind himself that he hates Sirius. He hates him because thats what Walburga tells him, so he does. Its what a good heir does. Because a good heir doesnt run away at 16, and Regulus is a good heir so he most certainly does not think about running away at every waking moment of his existence.

Because Regulus is good. He is better. He is better than his brother, he will be a good heir.

“Capella!” his mother has always had a loud, sharp voice that made his ears hurt. and that monstrosity of a name doesn’t help it either.

“Yes, mother,” He lightly steps down the long set of stairs, leaving the comfort of his usual place in his room: sitting on the floor next to his bed thinking of things that he shouldnt, like running after Sirius and rebelling Walburga. But he is the Black heir, he doesn’t rebel, he wont.

Walburga isnt in her usual spot, which is odd. she’s normally standing in front of the dining room table, wating to lecture him about random nonsense that he pretends to listen to. But today, she’s in the drawing room.

The drawing room was never used for its main purpose, it was solely for beating the shit out of Sirius when he still lived here. They never used it otherwise, which was weird, because Sirius hasnt been here in a long while.

“Sit.” She points to a chair and Regulus does as he’s told, even though a bit of Sirius’s dried blood is still caked to the wood.

Walburga has her wand out and the door closed. Weird, she never used magic anymore. the air felt weirdly heavy and Regulus felt wronger than usual.

She casually treads across the room, and stands directly in front of him with her annoyingly perfevt posture.

“Crucio,”

Regulus screams before he can even register what she said. As he’s curled up on the cold, hard tiles of the floor, he realises what must have happened. Wait, but she wouldn’t crucio him. He’s Regu- no, he’s Capella Black, for fucks sake. The heir. The good child.

“Where are the letters?”

He manages to lift his head from the floor to look at her.
“Mother, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Je ne sais vraiment pas mère, s'il te plaît!” For once, he doesnt know. he genuinly has no clue what he’s talking about.

“With him. the failed one. we found the letters he’s been sending you, Capella.”

But Sirius hadn’t been sending him letters. oh, how he wishes he did, but he never received a single letter, not a single trace of his brother.

Walburga makes an annoyed expression, as if Regulus is a stain on her fancy white blouse.

“Crucio,”

He thought this would be easy. Sirius did this multiple times a day, he didn’t even scream or cry. So why is Regulus? He’s the good one, the strong one, why could Sirius survive this? Why is Regulus the one shaking on the floor in a pool of his own vomit? What the fuck did he do?

He doesn’t know how or when, but Regulus is in the bathtub. Everything aches, despite the fact that it’s been hours. But he doesn’t think about that. He thinks about how to fix this, how to be a better heir for his mother, to be noble, to be eloquent. Though he will admit, it is hard to be motivated about being the heir when he’s staring at his own bare body. It doesn’t seem like his, it doesn’t feel like he’s supossed to be in this body. its so feminine, why is that? And why cant he deal with it? Why is he crying and putting on his clothes as hastily as he can?

He somehow makes it to his bed through the tears and the aches. He doesnt remember a time when he has been so horribly exhausted, when all he wants to do is sleep. he doesnt want to be awake. maybe he’ll die in his sleep, oh, how he hopes that will happen.

His insomnia normally causes him to struggle to sleep, to stay awake for hours staring at the blank ceiling, but it comes to him quick this night. He’s so drowsy his aches dont affect him anymore, and soon enough, Regulus is dead asleep.

“Regulus! ugh, fils de pute, wake up! Regulus!” He was having a rrally nice, dreamless sleep, nice and cozy in his bed, when he is so rudely interrupted by…

“Sirius?!”