deep breaths
Regulus Black was not weak.
He knew he wasn't. He could take whatever was thrown at him and throw it right back. He didn't let people know things got under his skin. And he especially didn't let his parents know what got under his skin. Not on purpose, anyway.
So, when his mother looked him dead in the eye and told him he was just like Sirius, his stomach dropped. He swallowed, clenched his teeth, balled his hands into fists, and tried to ignore the heat of shame pooling in his gut. His brother was a traitor. He knew it at 12, he knew it at 15. Sirius left him, left his family behind, for his own selfish desires. He wanted to be free of the family. So did Regulus. So did Narcissa. So did Andromeda. Sirius wasn't any more special than him or their cousins. The only difference between Andromeda & Sirius and Narcissa & Regulus is that the latter were smart enough to never voice that opinion. Sirius was too loud mouthed. He'd paint himself fluorescent if it meant nobody would forget him. He wanted to be seen. Always itching to be watched, needing to feel like he was in the spotlight. Regulus didn't much care for being seen. He found it much easier to cruise by in the shadows. There was nothing for him that wasn't the future Sirius had rejected, anyways. The leftover brother.
Regulus sat in his bedroom. It was 9 pm. He was on his bed, looking at the wall. His mind was racing. Since Sirius had betrayed him, he hadn't been able to sleep. The sound of his doorknob turning made him jolt out of his thoughts. He looked over at the door. It was Walburga. He could tell from her footsteps, too heavy for Orion. She walked with force. Regulus kept his face neutral as he braced himself for whatever she was about to collect him for.
"Regulus, come downstairs. Your father and I are going to talk to you." She said, her voice cold. She always looked at Regulus with disdain. He knew she wished he was Sirius. The better brother. Regulus nodded, and she turned and left.
He sighed, looking at the open door. He stood up and went to his mirror next to his dresser. He remembered when Sirius had started a fight with Walburga in this room. She broke that mirror. It was a beautiful mirror, an ornate silver frame around it. He remembered Sirius, with a handprint around his neck that was sure to bruise, helping him find all the pieces to use a fixing spell to put them back together. Sirius had always put Regulus before himself. Regulus looked into his reflection and sighed. His cheeks were just a little too sunken to pass for fully healthy. It was one of the things he hated most about his appearance, how he always looked sick.
He stepped lightly down the stairs. He learned to walk without making any noise, knew exactly which floorboards creaked and which ones never did. He lingered on the last step for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to actually go into the kitchen. He liked to do that, sometimes, pretend he had a choice. He walked soundlessly into the kitchen to see his parents sitting at the kitchen table. He didn't quite know what would be acceptable to do, so he stood in front of them. Orion was as quiet as his son in front of him, while Sirius was as quick tempered and loud as Walburga. Regulus knew better than to fidget, although he was uncomfortable, feeling his mother's scrutinizing stare.
"Regulus," his mother started. He would almost be relieved the silence that had settled around them had ended, if he didn't know who his mother was. "You're a bright young man. Me and your father are sure you know the difference between a good decision and a bad one." Her tone was as cold as usual, but he knew she was bringing this up for a reason. He just needed to figure out what the reason was.
"Yes maman." He spoke. He knew better than to talk back. Walburga narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to tell if that was mockery. Orion was looking at Regulus with a calm expression. He didn't care if Walburga shipped him off to the Dark Lord. He probably wouldn't notice. Where Walburga was violent, Orion was absent.
"I'm sure you're aware of the Dark Lord's recruiting." She paused for a brief second, but it wasn't a window for him to speak. "Me and your father have worked tirelessly to gain his trust. As you know, he trusts us enough to hold his meetings here. We think the time has come for you to take the dark mark."
Regulus Black was not weak. He felt cold fear shoot through him as if an arrow from above had struck him in the middle of his head. He felt that fear drip like water down, down, down. He swallowed and silently prayed that he looked as calm as he tried to. He took a barely deeper than average breath and put his fear into a box in his head. He shoved that fear deep down, where all the things that make him weak belong. If someone were to check, they'd find this fear tucked away next to the love he once had for his brother.
"But maman," he started, his voice remarkably steady for all the fear he felt, "what use would the Dark Lord find in a student? There's no point in me taking the mark if I can't be of use to him." Internally, he was trying to come up with every excuse, every reason to not do it. Every reason that his mother would accept. He watched with a carefully neutral expression as his mother pressed her lips into a thin line, for once holding her tongue.
"As the heir of the noble house of Black, Regulus, I'm sure you understand how important it is to pledge your allegiance to a side. You simply won't need Hogwarts after he takes power. You'll have been there from the start. He'll give you a good rank, good honor, a good job, and you won't need all of the silly things they try and teach you at that school. You don't want to turn out like Sirius, do you now?" She asked, her tongue sharp and her eyes narrowed. She was like a predator, narrowing in on her prey. Regulus internally cursed. There wasn't a good way out of this, was there?
"Of course I understand, maman. I will pledge my allegiance to his side, to the right side. I think an educated army is better for him than an uneducated one, though. I may be of use to him now, but I could be of more use after I finish Hogwarts." Just two more years, he internally pleaded. Begging a deaf god for time that wasn't his.
"How much more do you really have to learn? You're 15, and you only have 2 more years left. Will anyone ask you what you learned in Hogwarts when you're under the Dark Lord's wing? I doubt it." Her words were venom, slowly dripping through his excuses. He just needed more time. A little more, and then he could let his idealistic life go. Just a little longer--
"Let the boy finish at least his next year, Walburga. He has a point; he'll be worth more to the Dark Lord then." Orion's deep voice entered the conversation for the first time. His word was indisputable. Walburga bit her tongue, and Regulus silently thanked his father in his head. Orion was always in the background of all his memories with Sirius growing up. He found himself thinking, not for the first time, that Orion could've raised him and Sirius well if Walburga wasn't around. Of course, Orion was just as bad as Walburga, only in a different way. Walburga glared at Orion, but didn't start screaming like Regulus expected her to.
"You have until next summer to take the mark, Regulus. Don't ruin this for yourself." She said, dismissing him. He left with a nod and a mumbled "yes, maman." He walked silently up the stairs and into his room. He sat on his bed, pressing his back into the corner of the wall. He looked down at his shaking hands.
One year. Was that enough time? Would that be enough time? Merlin, he hoped it would be. He swallowed against the rising lump in his throat. His mind was racing. He couldn't cry. Not now. He didn't cry. He needed someone, anyone, to help him. What do you do in a year? It was like he had received his death sentence and was supposed to just sit and watch as the hanging noose swung closer to his neck. And for the first time in two months, Regulus had a thought he wished he could scoop out of his head and throw at the wall. That thought? 'I miss Sirius. I need him.' Because traitors don't deserve to be missed. Regulus had balled his hands into fists, and he felt the bite of his nails into his palm. Sirius was a traitor. He had to remind himself that, or else he'd find himself missing him. Deep down, Regulus was still 10 and watching Sirius leave on the train for the first time. Deep down, he was still 11 and being introduced to all of his brother's friends. And deep down, he was just meeting the prick that would put him in this situation.
James Potter.