Anthem of Lamentation

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Regulus excelled at fading into silence, a skill perfected through countless encounters, especially under Yaxley's shadow. The man's presence loomed like a thundercloud, ready to unleash a storm.

Reg felt he'd been granted opportunities to speak—to say something, to level a protest—but each time, he choked, the words lodging in his throat, stifled by fear. So how could he blame Yaxley when he failed to summon the strength to say no? In the depths of his mind, Regulus comforted himself with the lie that he would eventually find the courage to resist, challenging the oppressive man and making him stop. Today would be the day it had to be; the man's slow escalation and growing boldness left Regulus no doubt about what would happen if he didn't stop this affront.

Yet, another torment overwhelmed him before he could gather flimsy resolve. Instead a relentless pressure brewed inside his skull as a battle waged between the desperate need to push back against Yaxley's invasion and the focus required to track the man's hands. The pervert showed no mercy as he raided through Reg's most intimate memories, lingering on the bathing and undressing ones with a deliberation which nearly made him hurl. All the while, the background touching and stroking left him feeling completely laid bare to Yaxley, who had made it clear he could and would violate the youngest Black's boundaries with the delight and ease of someone unwrapping a present!

Regulus fought with every ounce of his being against the powerlessness the Legilimens rendered him. He would get the man out of his head! Only...what would it even accomplish? It's not like he could fight the bigger man. Could he even shove Yaxley away? Narcissa wouldn't like it even if he managed to, and she refused to listen to him.

A crushing truth punctuated each fleeting option Regulus struggled to find: at his core, he was a coward. The reality cut deep, leaving a splintering ache in his heart.

As darkness crept around him, a fierce urgency tugged at his conscience. The more he struggled to reach the surface, the more the biting pain radiating from his temples increased. Each day, the sessions brought forth a torment he'd never known before, and when it reached a new height of agony, he finally succumbed to the encroaching shadows; it marked the first time he passed out. When awareness returned, he found himself with Narcissa, her presence a fragile comfort amidst a chorus of aches that plagued more than his head. At that moment, something irrevocable broke inside him, like cheap glass shattering against an impenetrable stone.

"Ah, Sirius, thank Merlin!" Fractured laughter, tinged with a haunting familiarity, echoed through the fog, itching at his consciousness and teasing him with fleeting nostalgia. Something pulled on Regulus, fighting to free him from the Azkaban guarded by Yaxley. "I have never been happier to see your ugly mug." The urgency of the mysterious speaker intertwined with another distant voice, the two swirling like a faulty portkey, impossible to grasp firmly yet deadly to release.

Someone called his name—Regulus—cutting through the fog, a lifeline thrown to him amidst a rising tide of despair. For a moment, the relentless throb in his head quieted as if jolted by a sudden shake, granting him a brief clarity that slipped away too soon. It wasn't enough; it was never enough. But why did it matter? His thoughts spiralled into frantic questions, clawing at the recesses of his mind.

'Why?' transformed into a desperate plea: 'What did you do?'

After that horrific lesson, he evaded Yaxley's grasp for an entire week, caught in a web of dread. He had faked illness at first, childishly convincing himself that a few days in bed would result in lessons being forgotten. But with the ruse and his hope crumbling, with trembling hands, he turned to a cascade of potions, swallowing them to ensure the illness' legitimacy. Each drop scorching his throat represented his gut-wrenching desperation, keeping him entangled in a dangerous web, merely delaying the spider's return.

He pleaded with his mother, begging her not to send him back, but she answered swiftly and brutally. Her stinging slap resonated across his cheek, leaving a hot trail of shame and pain that lingered into the following day. But he foolishly persisted in trying to persuade her. His mum's threats loomed as large and dark as the Dementor she insisted he'd face if he continued to show disobedience. While the idea sent chills racing down his spine, surely anything would be better than facing Yaxley again? However, despite everything, his mum's disapproval and her directing her wrath on him proved the worst fate, and his deepest fear turned into reality.

In a truly insane last-ditch effort, he tried to shed light on why the lessons haunted him, but her cold indifference pierced his heart sharper than any blade. Each attempt at reason felt futile, even suggesting finding another teacher, only met her icy gaze, one promising retribution for his whining and backtalk. That very night, she threw him into the abyss once more. Trapped in the suffocating darkness of despair with a Dementor meant time endlessly stretched until Sirius burst forth like a storm determined to break the calm—rage and fierce determination illuminating the room.

The cacophony of voices swirled around him, increasing in intensity,

breaking through his upheaval and chaotic thoughts.

Recognition tugged on Reggy as he listened to the boys conversing in hushed tones, but it wasn't until one of them raised his voice that there was no mistaking the distinct, posh annoyance lacing Sirius' words. "No! I mean it, James. You can't tell my parents about this. Oh, don't even get me started. Yes… yes, I am well aware that he's ill. Just… I think it's because of the Dementors. No, I… look… I know I said he never faced them… compared to me, he hasn't… this was the second time. He wasn't down there long… it just… affected him worse, I guess? Yes, I'm sure he doesn't need a hospital. NO! I think I'd bloody well know the effects of Dementors by now. Ugh, don't look at me like that. Look, can't we do this later? Well, tough luck, we have more pressing matters to address. Kreacher! Where did that mangy mutt wander off to? He was just here. Yes, Potter, I'm sure, because he was the one who led me to Reg. Oh, bloody hell! If he goes to my mum… just shut up and help me pick up his feet. Well, we'll get you changed upstairs then. Now stop being a baby and lend me a hand, for Merlin's sake."

Frustration radiated from his older brother; Reg had troubled Sirius once again…

Why?

Everything around him remained in a haze, distant and unfocused.

What was he doing?

He…

Sirius suddenly grasped him with a firm hand, yanking him from the soul-crushing darkness and breaking off the tendrils of despair. His older brother guided him to his room, promising he would handle it in a voice reminding Reggy of childhood's comforting echo back when Sirius never failed to protect him. For the first time in years, he believed his brother's vow. Regulus should have confided in Sirius about all the terrifying, painful experiences eating him alive and clouding his summer. However, his chattering teeth betrayed him, leaving him mute with fear. If Sirius noticed the words Reg desperately wanted to say, he abandoned conversation to bundle the youngest Black in a cocoon of blankets, oddly shoving a chocolate frog into his mouth before summoning Kreacher and demanding his protection. With the rich sweetness on his tongue clashing with acidic nausea roiling through his belly, Regulus obediently chewed and watched with a flicker of comfort as his avenging Patronus stormed out, fury radiating from him as powerful as a supernova about to implode into a black hole.

Sirius had grown silent since then. Regulus suspected his brother had faced the dementors for far too long. Normally, he would have gone to fetch him, but that summer's exhausting toll had drained his body's energy, forcing him to succumb to a heavy slumber. For once, Reg couldn't keep track of the time his brother spent in the basement. When dawn finally broke, and he rushed to Sirius' room, he found him collapsed on the floor, shivering in his sleep, though thankfully not trapped in darkness anymore. The sight pierced Regulus' chest with relief and agony; he thought he might cry then, but no tears came.

The next day, he had no choice but to return to Yaxley's lair. Narcissa scolded him mercilessly for testing the man's patience, wholly dismissing his illness. "I told your mother how childish and lazy you've been about the whole ordeal," she reprimanded, her tone sharp enough to slice through his fragile state. Rage welled up inside him, and he yelled back in uncontrolled anger.

Had that been only a few days ago? Or had that happened earlier today? Time had blurred ever since he met Yaxley. Regardless, he couldn't recall what angry words had spilt from his lips. His memories had turned into elusive shadows, forever slipping through his fingers. Perhaps they were tainted by the three gruelling hours of lessons each day with the invasive Legilimens, which seemed to pollute his mind, suffocating his thoughts.

Narcissa had slapped him hard across the cheek that day and dragged him mercilessly through the house where Yaxley awaited—a patient venus fly trap, knowing it would remain uninterrupted and could take its time in swallowing its prey whole. It marked the first time Narcissa had abandoned her lessons, insisting Regulus double his time with Yaxley to make up for being a slacker and to 'overcome his inane fear.' In that moment, Regulus felt an unsettling truth settle in: no one truly cared how he felt, and no one ever would. Well… not no one. But when he contemplated confiding in Sirius, his brother felt light-years away, an unreachable sanctuary he had already broken.

Perhaps if he cried and punched his older brother's chest, but even then, he wasn't sure what good it would do. Make Sirius mad? Even if Sirius believed him, it's not like his brother could protect him outside the walls of Grimmauld Place, and he couldn't always protect Reggy within the walls. It's not like his big brother could stop it. He selfishly wished for Sirius to accompany him, yet this yearning gnawed at him, twisting in his gut and making him feel as malevolent as the Dark Eaters, who seemed to revel in the carnage this summer. Sirius had never even practised Occlumency, so what good could he do?

When Regulus mustered the backstabbing courage to point this out to Narcissa, she shot him a scathing look and said that "the traitor" wouldn't need it as he did. The meaning eluded him, yet a deep-seated fear crept in, whispering that it had something to do with Voldemort.

"See! I told you, James, he's coming to. Oi, Reggy. Come on, Reggy, you can do it," he heard Sirius say, his voice infused with warmth and something he hadn't heard in ages—encouragement. For a moment, Reg considered the possibility the weird mesh of memories and dreams continued. Still, the surprise seeped through Regulus' despair, pulling him away from the suffocating clutch of those invisible hands.

Suddenly jolted awake, he blinked in confusion, not expecting to be in bed. Even more shocking, Sirius and James hovered around him, their expressions a mixture of concern and urgency. "W-what?" he stammered, still caught in the shadows.

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"Oh, thank Godric!" James exclaimed, his voice ringing out with an almost desperate relief before he crumbled to the ground in a heap, the thud echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Reg wondered if he ought to check on the mental boy's well-being, unwanted concern bubbling in his chest. However, Sirius' voice sliced through the air like a beacon, once more drawing his attention and anchoring his tattered mind. The lessons in Occlumency had begun to fracture Regulus' focus, leaving him more prone to zoning out, a considerable problem for a pureblood with a strict family. He doubted his brother, for all his supposed brilliance—largely debatable though—would notice the silent connection Regulus yearned for him to place. However, in Sirus' eyes, Grimmauld Place's oppressive shadows meant everything that went wrong could be attributed to the building, only finding problems within their home while Reg's private hell existed in another location entirely. And so, sequestered on an island outside his brother's reach, Regulus alone understood his situation's gravity.

"Pfft, don't be a drama queen, Potter," Sirius teased, frustration tinging his words.

"Piss off, Black!" James shot back, irritation sparking between them.

"Bite me!" Sirius retorted with a playful growl.

Regulus, caught in the grip of his turmoil, croaked out, "S-Sirius?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, desperate for the steadiness of his brother's grey eyes to meet his own. A part of him wanted to scream, to shake Sirius out of his distraction. Stop focusing on your friend, he thought; I'm right here. Can't you see? Don't you want to know what's wrong? Sirius' ignorance extended to many topics. One of his biggest errors was forgetting to judge other places as harshly as their home. For hell could be found easily, lurking behind the creaky door of Yaxley's study.

"Help," he murmured, his voice trembling with raw need. Distress hung heavily in the air. But just as hope flickered within him, the last remnants of energy drained from his body, sending him spiralling into darkness, his consciousness fading away entirely.

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When Regulus regained awareness, he first saw James and Sirius sitting with their backs turned to him, engrossed in a lively debate over parchment. Their voices were low, but neither seemed adept at keeping their volume in check, allowing Regulus to eavesdrop with ease.

"It's gotta mean something, though. I mean, he's safe… I think?" An anxious quiver tinged James' tone, clearly reflecting the worry he tried to mask. Regulus found it strange how the confident boy who assuredly strutted around school could unravel over one bad afternoon. Sirius shoved the fretting boy, whispering something inaudible.

Longing smacked into Regulus; he ached for attention and recognition from his brother, who hadn't even noticed him regaining consciousness. But as always, friendship swept Sirius far away from him.

James shook his head, clinging to positivity with as much skill as he manoeuvred a broom. "No, he must be safe. It's why he used his nickname..."

"You think? Dumbass! This proves the opposite of his being safe. Otherwise, why the hell wouldn't he just sign his fucking name?" A petulant pout formed on Sirius' lips, the boy rearing up to throw a mini tantrum. Regulus now found himself quite content not to be noticed, doubtful his brother would speak so freely otherwise.

"Oh, come on, mate, you know Remus likes his secrets," James defended weakly.

Curiosity piqued, Regulus slowly pushed himself up in bed, keen to glimpse the paper they debated. With great care, he craned his neck to read the words scribbled on the page, aware he wouldn't have long.

"Too much for his bloody good, you mean," Sirius groaned, burying his face deep into his knees in exasperation, looking too small for Regulus' liking. He tried to focus on the swimming words, painstakingly piecing more together.

"Well… yeah, but you know he has good reason to what with—"

"SHHH!"

"I wasn't going to say it!" The unmistakable edge to James' defensive tone caught Reg's attention. He found this exchange fascinating and illuminating. Although he still couldn't grasp how a Muggleborn could have two pure-bloods wrapped around his finger and be so undoubtedly peculiar, most he didn't bother noting. He resolved not to let the quietest Marauder—or whatever they called themselves—slip past his radar this year.

"Still… Ugh. Dammit, James. I don't know if we are reading too much into it or not enough. I feel like we're missing something," Sirius lamented, frustration crackling in his words.

"You are," Regulus interjected, bracing himself for the storm of Sirius' anger, knowing the risk of disrupting a fragile moment. Sure enough, his brother whirled around, a sharp glare piercing him as his hand reached instinctively for his friend, who held the letter.

Surprisingly, James pushed the paper towards Reg, relief washing over his features. "Are you sure?"

"Regulus, stop being a filthy snoop. James, stop being a moron!"

"Oh, come off it, Sirius. What's the harm? He already read it. And he said he figured it out. We should hear him out." James' eyes sparked with determination.

Emboldened by the pushback, Regulus seized the moment to present a carefully crafted question. Not only was he genuinely intrigued—anything that could hold his focus proved a rare gem—but he also seized any opportunity to annoy his brother. He won anytime he could draw Sirius' grey eyes back towards him, especially with how unfocused they had been lately. Regulus couldn't decide whether relief or irritation triumphed in him over James Potter successfully clearing Sirius' funk.

"Why is he going by Moony?" Regulus posed, relishing in Sirius' liveliness as he bristled at the question.

"None of your business!" Sirius' face tightened in anger as he attempted to snag the letter. Regulus quickly hid it behind him, knowing that beneath his brother's bravado, the rescinded meals bore their toll. Sirius wouldn't risk fighting for the paper and exposing his terrible summer to James by showcasing how physically weak he'd gotten.

Regulus found wicked amusement in Sirius' irritation over Remus' secrets when the prat hid his own truths from his best friend. The gratifying revelation eased the simmering jealousy coiling in his chest. Before he could relax, however, his heart squeezed in an entirely different yet equally painful way as James offered him a blindingly bright smile, too hopeful, too trusting.

"He's not going to tell us, the prat." Sirius gave James a none-too-gentle punch before his shoulders slumped with defeat.

Just to spite his brother Regulus answered calmly, "I know exactly what Remus is trying to convey, you unintelligent dolts. But I won't tell you unless you answer my question."

"You don't know shit, he's bluffing, James. Don't listen to the little snake."

"What other option do we have, mate? You really think Peter is capable of figuring this out?" James pressed earnestly, his voice steady but tinged with annoyance. Regulus observed the exchange intently, a newfound respect for James blossoming as he watched the confident boy compel his stubborn brother to submit first. Perhaps Potter wasn't as terrible as he had previously thought.

"Fine," Sirius spat out, each word dripping with tension. "Since you're so certain we can't handle this ourselves—"

"Mate, we've poured over the letter for at least fifteen minutes. At this rate, you'll give yourself an aneurysm before you figure it out." James' dry amusement caused Regulus to stifle a laugh, shifting nervously under the boy's blinding grin. Damn it, but he could understand Sirius' obsession. His brother muttered something under his breath, too quiet and bitter for Regulus to catch despite being just a few feet away.

James burst into laughter, reaching out to pat Sirius' back in playful consolation. "Don't worry about your brother being smarter, Siri-poo. You're still my favourite and much prettier."

Sirius responded with a dramatic, indignant cry, launching himself at his friend, tackling him to the ground and unleashing the vicious tickling. James squirmed and squealed with laughter. Regulus found himself riveted by the spectacle, torn between finding Sirius' antics distasteful and undeniably captivating. He couldn't help but imagine the absurdity of tackling his friend, Greggory, in such a careless display, the nonsensical imagining alone nearly making him chuckle. Slytherins didn't act like reckless and idiotic Gryffindors, even if the carefree frenzy did seem kind of fun...in a ludicrous way.

"If you two are finished making fools of yourselves, I'm more than happy to lend my superior wisdom." Regulus' voice cut through their laughter, more than slightly condescending, judging by how James muttered "prick" under his breath. Sirius shockingly punched his friend's arm, insisting only he called Reggy names, which brought an irrepressible smile to his lips despite how twisted he still was about matters he remained determined to ignore for the foreseeable future.

Regulus knew he couldn't confide in Sirius about how miserable his summer had been while James—ever vibrant and cheerful—Potter sat there. Yet, he knew after James left, there only existed a slim chance Sirius would return to check on him, not when his older brother seemed convinced 'the episode' had been solely triggered by the Dementor and not the myriad of other problems Regulus faced.

Meanwhile, the two boys on the floor continued their raucous wrestling match, completely oblivious to Regulus in their reckless antics, channelling an absurd amount of energy that Sirius' neglected body, at least, should not possess. Reg rolled his eyes, contemplating letting them exhaust themselves. James would undeniably claim victory, which posed an entertaining prospect. But given his sore-loser brother remained the epitome of irresponsibility, acting as if having James around posed no risk, the weight of responsibility settled heavily on Reg. He recognised the longer James lingered, the more likely they faced severe consequences.

With a flicker of irritation, he snatched up a pillow he had been leaning against and, with a swift motion, hurled it at the tossers.

"Why, Regulus. How utterly unseemly of you!" Sirius exclaimed, mimicking their mother's scandalised tone with a theatrical flair. A hint of pride danced in his eyes as he momentarily paused the tickling assault.

Regulus fought back a smile, a subtle achievement marking his growth and hard-earned independence from his brother's risky influence. Over time, he had learned Sirius' approval often steered him astray, so he settled on maintaining a stoic expression.

As Sirius' grin faltered, Regulus gestured toward the letter with a flicker of guilt, determined to steer the conversation back on course. "What's the significance of the nickname 'Moony'?" he pressed, steadfast in his refusal to do his brother any favours for free.

"It's because he spaces out a lot and is a dreamy git," Sirius answered quickly, his tone casual. Regulus might have accepted the explanation if not for James, who simultaneously blurted enthusiastically, "Well, we dared him to moon the girls, and the nutter actually did it!"

Regulus raised an eyebrow in scepticism as Sirius delivered a swift smack to James' head, finding either claim dubious. The term 'moony' could easily describe someone lost in thought, wandering through life with their head in the clouds, yet Regulus had never witnessed such behaviour in his sparse interactions with Remus. He recalled their few encounters, one in which the second-year had stepped up decisively when Davey had been bleeding profusely, the other when the quiet boy dared show Regulus pity. In either instance, Lupin displayed more insight than the other Marauders, making the accusation seem improbable.

Gritting his teeth, he observed the two morons engage in a silly struggle to lock each other in a playful headlock. Such children! How did Lupin tolerate them? Not bothering to disguise his judgment at their lack of understanding, he explained 'patiently,' "You dolts are completely missing the point. Remus isn't using his name this summer." The question of 'why' lingered on the tip of his tongue, lost to him. Yet the loaded glance shared between Sirius and James spoke volumes, though he couldn't quite decipher their meaning. "He mentioned that owls can't find someone unless their name is invoked to explain why he's not receiving your mail. I'm certain you've been trying to send letters."

Lupin displayed an evident level of paranoia, one Regulus could identify with and respect. He would employ the same strategy if he ever fled home and needed to evade capture. Unfortunately, the uncertainty surrounding the missing boy's whereabouts, coupled with the anxiety on the teenagers' faces, stirred an unwelcome pang inside him, stirring a feeling he had vowed to deny—concern. While he refused to admit any genuine worry for the Gryffindor, a nagging thought surfaced: if something terrible had happened, who would persuade Sirius to stop being a close-minded git? Lupin had obligations, so Regulus needed him safe to use him; that was all.

"So… we were reading too much into it. Damn, I thought it would be some sort of cypher. I've been poring through my mum's books on curse-breakers—they often use cyphers in their work. That's what your Uncle Alphard told you, right?" James' voice broke through the charged silence, disappointment colouring his tone.

"Uh… yeah," Sirius began, his demeanour shifting as if he were emerging from a dark spiral. Regulus could empathise; he just didn't want to, determined to keep an emotional distance. "But wait, wasn't your mum an Auror?"

"She's a woman who strongly believes knowledge is power," James explained with blatant admiration. Disdain simmered within Regulus. Despite her wisdom, Mrs. Potter was a tainted blood traitor.

"It wasn't as complicated as you daft Gryffindors feared." Unable to help it, Reg added spitefully, "Lupin probably knew you imbeciles wouldn't be able to figure it out unless he made it glaringly obvious. And even then, you still couldn't piece it together."

"Ey, now, no need to be a terror," James rebuked, a note of caution stitched into his tone while Sirius muttered, "Annoying geniuses," almost too quietly to hear.

Regulus allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk, accepting Sirius' recognition, knowing his older brother would never outright state he was impressed by his younger brother's intelligence. Regulus might not believe Remus was a genius, but he couldn't ignore the Muggle-born Gryffindor displaying astonishing skill. However, the Slytherin remained steadfast in refusing to give that obnoxious house more credit than it deserved.

Again James faced him, his eyes narrowing as he looked Regulus over in a manner that made it hard to swallow. "You feeling better yet? You sure gave us a scare."

"Speak for yourself," Sirius scoffed dismissively. Regulus rolled his eyes at his brother, mirroring James's exasperation, and for a fleeting moment, they shared a quiet bond—a brief, comfortable smile sparked by Sirius' dramatic flair.

"Right then, you gave me a scare. And since I'm obviously the most important person here, you should answer my question. It's not like I can manage worrying about more people than I already am."

"I'm fine," Regulus replied tersely, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him. It felt unfair for James to pressure him to provide reassurance as if Reg was responsible for lightening the impossible burden the Gryffindor chose to bear.

"Told you." Sirius stuck out his tongue as he gloated. Regulus stifled the urge to break down in tears. He was a Black, after all. He would find a way to sort this out alone. Sirius had basically admitted to Regulus being a genius. He wasn't about to tell his brother how stupid he had been. He'd just…make it clear next time he wanted Yaxley to stop. That would work. It would have to. If it didn't work, Regulus could confide in Sirius, but for the moment, his pride demanded he tackle this problem independently.

"Yes, well, James really should leave before Mother catches him, Sirius," Regulus pointed out, surprised to find a flicker of regret at the prospect of the enthusiastic boy's departure. James had a way of igniting life in Sirius that Regulus could only dream of replicating. While he envied James, he genuinely wanted to see his brother as he was now, vivacious instead of an empty shell. However, the scavenged goodwill steadily building inside him erupted in flames as Sirius opened his stupid mouth.

"Yeah, we should head out. Reggy, I'm going with James. I can't stand being here for another month." At least Sirius had the decency to sound remorseful; otherwise, Regulus would have smacked him! You can't leave me, he wanted to scream.

How dare Sirius! He partly understood that his older brother remained oblivious to the turmoil he would be abandoning Regulus to endure, but that knowledge couldn't quell the hostility boiling within him. He hated his brother.

HE HATED HIM!

"This breaks our deal," Reggy choked out, wincing at how frantic his voice sounded. He avoided James' eyes, the concern the boy emitted as blatant as the previous joy. Regulus needed to keep his internal struggle hidden, even as it raged violently within him.

Sirius expelled a long, resigned breath. "Look, there's no risk of you being sent to the Dementors if I'm not here, so you don't need to worry, yeah?"

WHAT?

Was his older brother egocentric enough to believe their mum threw Regulus in with the Dementors as a punishment for Sirius's actions?

Perhaps she did so the first time... But Sirius was not why Regulus had landed in such precarious trouble this time. Maybe he should battle James to keep Sirius with him, but all the fight drained out of him, leaving behind a cold, bitter reality: nothing would ever change. Just as Yaxley had wrecked his childhood, Sirius had shattered their family, and Regulus' resentment created an endless chasm inside him. And though he despised them both, he loathed himself even more.

He ducked his head, not about to let tears spill over. "Whatever," he hissed, his voice sharp and venomous like a trampled King Cobra, though nowhere near as deadly...

"Oh, come on, Reggy, don't be like that…" Sirius wheedled, his hand finding his younger brother's shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Regulus jerked away violently, inhaling sharply at the touch, any touch. "Fine, be a brat."

NO. No, that wasn't what he meant. He should apologise and beg Sirius not to go. His big brother could make everything stop, could make the pain cease! Regulus wanted to sob, and though the tears burned at the corners of his eyes for the first time that summer, he refused to let them fall in front of an audience.

"Look, I tried, Reggy. I promise I did," Sirius's voice hitched, forcing Regulus to consider he might not be the only Black on the verge of crying. "I'm just…never good enough, and now that she's started punishing me, she won't stop. She finds an excuse when she wants to, you know that. You have to know that."

Regulus was acutely aware of the situation. He could still vividly picture the mischievous glint in their mother's eyes, a sparkle that had suggested she had been eagerly anticipating a chance to punish her eldest son. All summer, it seemed like she had been waiting for the moment. If only Sirius had survived a few more weeks without incident, everything might have been fine. After all, their mother was not one to mete out punishment without cause. Regulus let out a low, frustrated growl, his annoyance bubbling beneath the surface, compelling him to refuse Sirius a coherent response.

"Look… I'll see you at Hogwarts, yeah? You can even hang out with my friends… on occasion," Sirius said, pausing as if contemplating the implications of his words. Regulus couldn't help but wonder if James was behind the touching and unexpected gesture or if he was making a dramatic x with his arms, pleading for the older boy to see sense. Either way, the flicker of genuine brotherly warmth caught Regulus off guard. Melancholy throbbed as his eyes burned with unshed tears, making it too risky to speak up—probably for the best. In equal measure, he wanted to spit furiously about how he wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with loser Gryffindors and thank Sirius for the unexpected kindness.

Instead, he shrugged, feeling the tension in his body mount as he sensed Sirius moving closer as if seeking some kind of physical reassurance. Instead, his older brother sighed heavily, the sound more tinged with sadness than anger, leaving Reggy unmoored. He was accustomed to the vocal explosions of their typical arguments, where nothing went unsaid. He hated how…disappointed Sirius sounded in him. It wasn't reasonable.

"Take care of yourself, Reggy. You'll be fine, you little suck-up," Sirius laughed in resignation. Regulus knew his older brother was trying to reassure himself, but he sounded endearing enough that the typical offence at the mockery withered up quickly. Still, he couldn't let Sirius off the hook so easily. While summer dwindled painstakingly slowly, three weeks remained, and the thought of spending those days with Yaxley knotted his stomach. The mere anticipation made him want to die.

"And if I'm not?" his voice cracked, and he forced his fists tighter still. Don't you dare cry. Don't you dare! Yet, his voice only reached a fragile whisper rather than a proper complaint—barely audible above the conversation between Sirius and James. He knew his brother might have ignored him, but he suspected Sirius hadn't heard.

"Uh, bye, Regulus, see ya around," James called out awkwardly. Reg could hardly hear the Gryffindor ushering Sirius away over his fracturing heart; each beat drumming out betrayal.

At that moment, he nearly burst with equal hatred for James and Sirius. Once again, the bastard was stealing his brother, who had been weak enough to be sucked into Jame's orbit! He also blamed Sirius for not even offering to take Regulus with him...

As temporary as it may be, Sirius getting the chance to escape his chains meant the ones imprisoning Regulus grew tighter, crushing his spirit. The legacy of their family loomed like a dark cloud overhead, ensuring that another Black boy remained shackled to their lineage, trapped in expectations steeped in tradition. On some level, his brother must understand his choice to sacrifice Reggy to live a carefree life. The thought twisted painfully in his gut; he wouldn't be surprised if Sirius eventually turned his back on him and the family for good!

Once the pair vanished down the bustling street, Regulus sank to the floor, reaching for the pillow he'd thrown in frustration at the boys grappling in mock combat. Maybe if he had shown them he could fit in better, he could have secured his golden ticket to freedom, a chance to break free from the suffocating expectations of his family. However, his fate had been sealed. He knew escaping would be as pointless and hopeless as trying to fix his family.

So he pressed the pillow against his face, surrendering to the anguished screams he longed to unleash upon anyone except himself. Before long, the soft fabric grew damp with his tears, a tidal wave of sorrow that brought him no solace. In that moment, he would have traded away the ability to smile if it meant keeping his brother close. Yet, as always, Sirius abandoned him, leaving Regulus more trapped than ever—a fly waiting to be ripped to shreds by a disgusting fat spider.