But We Could Be Safer, Just For One Day
Regulus liked writing, whether it was poetry or letters, but he preferred the poems, because he could write the strangest words but mean something totally different no one could ever understand. He felt safer leaving his own emotions in a verse composition, as if his soul were locked in a safe of which only he had the key.
On the other hand, the letters were different, because they were immediate. Every time he felt like he wanted to write one, he did, just to rip it off and let it burn in the fire. The letters were a direct rush of emotion, and as much as he’d boasted his whole life that he could control them, he knew that was the last time he could afford to leave the letters in his drawer and not in the flames of his fireplace.
I don’t want you to read what I’m writing, but this is the only way I can tell you this because if I came to you I’m certain you will try to persuade me not to complete my mission and I know this time I would’t let you pray me much. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back to clear the trail of my cowardice, but if you’re reading this it only means that I’m already dead. I want to die knowing there’s a way for you to know that I don’t hate you and I never did. I thought I did, but it was just another defense mechanism so I wouldn’t let myself fall when you left. I wanted to hate you with all my heart, but I couldn’t. I realized it when it was too late.
I remember when we were just kids and I insisted so much on picking blackberries from the bush at the end of the alley and our mother saw me coming back with a stained shirt, ready to punish me. But you took all the blame saying it was your idea and to my disappointment you took me to taste blackberries. The fucking blackberries. I heard you screaming that day. I didn’t know what she se was doing to you, but after several minutes you quietly entered my room with a handkerchief full of blackberries hidden under your coat. You smiled and I smiled back. Don’t you think i didn’t notice your shaky hands or the bandages stained with blood on your calves. I’ve never eaten blackberries again after that day.
"Hey, hey, what’s that pout, Reggie?" said Sirius as he entered Regulus' bedroom, a few days before leaving for Hogwarts, seeing his brother sitting on the floor with his back against the bed.
Regulus did not lift his eyes, but Sirius sat by his side and forced him to look at him, taking his chin gently. He immediately noticed that his eyes were shiny and his lip was trembling.
"Nothing. Nothing happened," Regulus remarked, sniffing up and shaking his head.
"Something suggests I shouldn’t believe you," Sirius replied, gently stroking his arm to calm him down.
"It’s that-" a sob "Je n'ai pas envie de passer un an sans toi". I don’t want to spend a year without you. Here. I don’t want to spend a year without you here. Alone.
And Sirius wanted to console him, he wanted to tell him that they would see each other again at Christmas, but deep down he knew that if their parents allowed him to stay in Hogwarts for the holidays he would. And the guilt hurt, but the thought of his mother’s punishments was even more painful.
"Whatever happens, I want you to send me an owl. I’ll never be too far away from helping you no matter what. T'as compris?" Did you understand?
Regulus seemed to nod, but despite this Sirius did not depart from him and continued to hold him in his arms.
I don’t think I ever told anyone, but when you were sorted in Gryffindor, our mother lost her temper, worse than you heard in the howler she sent you that night. I suppose that’s when she realized you’d never be the heir she wanted. It was then that she realized that the fate and the reputation of the family depended on me. I know now that at that moment I could have made a choice: to be sorted in Slytherin and become the man she wanted or to follow you in your quest for freedom. But at the time I didn’t know you had the intention to run away and never come back so I saw the second option as a dream of another life.
Then things changed. When I found out the following year that you actually had a choice, I realized that you had chosen to end up in Gryffindor, not worrying about the consequences. About how that foolish choice would’ve changed my life. And that was the first time the thought of hating you came to my mind. I wanted to be in Gryffindor. I wanted to be with you, but i was so mad that the Hat might’ve perceived that and immediately sent me to Slytherin. In the instant that I met your eyes I saw how disappointed you were but the choice had been already taken. You really thought I would’ve chosen you. You were so hopeful. But I didn’t. That was the first crack.
'Hey, Sirius, wait,' Regulus said, trying to reach his brother. Sirius felt something falling in his stomach but he turned anyway, meeting his brother’s eyes. He looked at James again and he understood. He brought their friends away and left Sirius there, talking to Regulus.
'How about spending an afternoon together, maybe at the lake or wherever. You know, it’s been a long time since-'
He didn’t get to finish since he was interrupted by the voice of Bellatrix approaching.
'Ohh Reggie, you talking to your big brother? Walburga would be so happy to know that you are bringing him back on track'.
That’s when Sirius’ brain cells went crazy.
'Walburga, huh? You cannot even meet me without her asking you to? You despise me so much?'
And without giving him an answer, he left and ran to reach his friends, not so far from him. He didn’t know which had been Regulus’ reaction, because he hadn’t looked back and had no intention to.
Our mother asked me, actually. She wanted me to convince you to drop James, Lupin, and Pettingrew so you could get close to Malfoy and Lestrange. Very delusional of her. She’s never been very bright.
But believe it or not, I wanted to see you. I wanted to go out with you. I wanted my brother back.Where had all the things you said to me gone? No matter what. Wasn’t I worth it anymore? Wasn’t I enough to fight for? Did you really think I didn’t want to be with you? Why did you stop wanting to help me? I never stopped caring about you, I was just looking from afar. I never stopped being your little brother. Can’t say the same about you though.
The night you ran away was awful. I remember locking myself in my room and regretting not doing anything. I really wanted to help you.
After what seemed like endless minutes the screams subsided. I don’t remember exactly how long I heard the silence before I decided to leave my room. I wanted to come check on you, but your room was empty. Sure, the Gryffindor posters on the walls were still there, but all your stuff was gone. You were gone.
And as mad as I was at you, I knew you didn’t belong in that house and it was crazy to think that I could convince you to stay.I never stopped hoping you’d come back for me, though.
You know what happened next.
You must want the mark, they said.
I didn’t want it. Believe it or not, I didn’t want it.
I couldn’t see another way out, but how could I at 16 know there was no way out? That two years later I’d be here writing farewell letters?
I never thought about what my life could have been if there hadn’t been a war, but probably we would still be close and we’d go every spring to pick blackberries from the bush at the end of the alley.
If there hadn’t been a war, you would have never started hating me and I would never be dead aknoledging that.
I don’t hate you, I never did, but maybe you do. It doesn’t matter anymore. I forgive you. I forgive you for running away. I forgive you for not coming back. I don’t care if you don’t. You don’t have to.
Because I don’t care. I’m dying. And I don’t want you to discover that by a newspaper. It doesn’t matter anymore. I also don’t mind dying. Maybe it’s the way I will that scares me. But I will be fine. Don’t be sorry, you couldn’t save me anyway. I’m not mad, because no one could.