Regulus has always been a odd kid. Well, not odd in the typical Black family sense. Black children are often perceived as unusual; they're serious, mature, always perfectly mannered, they would never be making too much noise or throwing tantrums like most kids, immagine the horror. They always seem to have matured beyond their years, almost like miniature adults.
Regulus was different from the other Black of his generation. He wasn't as bold and wild as Bellatrix, nor was he a dreamer like Andromeda, or possessed the grace of Narcissa. He didn't share the same rebellious spirit as his brother Sirius, no, not at all. Physically he was undeniably a Black, of course, with those wavy, ebony hair, the typical yet beautiful grey eyes of the Blacks, and the aristocratic appearance of a pureblood. Yet, he had distinct features that made him stand out, not as prominently as Narcissa, with her stunning light blond hair that stand out so much in the family portrait, but there was still something about him. Perhaps it was the constellation of freckles that adorned his nose, as well as his face, and continued onto his body, softening his features. Maybe it was the lingering French accent in his phrases and the discreet lisphe had not lost yet and some other phisical movement that he always did. Or perhaps it was his insatiable curiosity, a hunger for learning more that showed trhough is eyes.
All of these traits made him distinct. He didn't shine as brightly as the sun, overpowering everything with its radiance. He wasn't the moon illuminating the dark night, nor was he the brightest star of the sky, shining alongside the moon. He wasn't that noticeable; he was more like one of the many stars that, on a cloudless night, shone just enough, blending efforts with other stars to offer a magical display. Yes just one among many stars, yet as beautiful as the rest. One star that illuminated the Black family, a light within the Blacks.
This description, if shared with the mother of this boy, might lead her to scoff and dismiss him as uninteresting. After all, he was a spare, the second choice that they wouldn't have to rely on since they already had a good heir. To her, he isn’t the desired heir, the beautiful boy she had longed for and went through great effort to conceive and birth, the one destined to lead the House of Black,he even already knew how to carry himself as the Black heir. She proudly tell how the head of the house is teaching all the necessary skills for him to become a worthy heir, and how excellently he performs in those classes. So young, yet already so charismatic, a good talker, and skilled in magic. He even had his first accidental magic at only four years old, a obvious sign of his power. What she wouldn't tell is how he never refrains from expressing his opinions, or how he has to be reprimended often because of his resentment toward his mother and the fact he never stop trying to deliberately provokes her with pranks and other childish things.
Walburga never paid much attention to her younger son; well, that's not entirely true. She pointied out his flaws, insisting he was too soft and that was not suited to be the heir. He was a weak, premature baby who often fell ill and who will never be as good as his brother. She criticized his freckles, claiming they damaged his otherwise perfect skin and made him appear unkempt.She even faired he might be a squib, a disgrace in their pureblood family until he showed some little trace of magic. Regulus despite consistently performing well and receiving praise from his private tutors, he even asked the house-elves to cover those spots to please his mother, and tryed so hard to make his maman proud of him,but she merely glanced at him, scoffed, and redirected her attention to her eldest.
One might assume this differential treatment by their mother would drive a wedge between the boys, fostering envy towards one another. After all, one bears the weight of immense expectations and cannot afford failure, while the other can achieve without notice, yearning only for their mother's attention. However, the boys had a surprisingly strong bond. They operated symbiotically and never seemed to tire of each other. They were each other's sanctuary—a safe haven where whispered conversations filled the night, intertwined with shared dreams. Regulus would often begin to recount one of the many stories he had read, and Sirius, content to simply listen, would let him speak. It was one of the rare moments when Regulus felt free to express himself openly. In fact, the first time Sirius shared something, was for his baby brother, and Regulus's first attempt at words was an effort to say his big brother's name. Regulus's initial steps were to follow in Sirius's footsteps.
If you asked the boys about their mother, they'd likely tell you she takes care of them, and they're grateful for her. However, gaining their trust and befriending them over time would reveal a different story.
Sirius would explode with anger, his shouts reaching out as if demanding the world to listen. He might even produce an accidental magical outburst, revealing how his mother always punishes him for the smallest missteps. He'd express his absolute detestation for her and, after a few calming breaths, confess his confusion about why she harbors such intense hatred toward him, resorting to magic to punish. In a barely audible voice, he'd disclose that her favorite spells are Laceros and... Crucio.
On the other hand, Regulus wouldn't shout but instead would whisper from the start, as if sharing a secret. He'd reveal that sometimes he felt his maman would be better off if he didn't exist. There were nights he'd go to sleep and awaken to find his door locked, a silent signal from his maman, unwilling to confront what she considered his failure. He would stay locked in for days, surviving on nothing but tap water from his bathroom. He never faced physical punishment; it would take too much of her time. Similar to Sirius, in a barely audible voice, he'd admit he doesn't know many spells, but his maman's favorite is Imperio, using it to control his behavior, control and supress what she deemed as strange actions.
Regulus began to fear being locked away and forgotten in his room, prompting him to frequently seek solace in sleeping alongside his brother. Having his brother's comforting presence beside him reassured Regulus that he was never truly alone. Despite his brother's constant assurances that he would never forget him, Regulus grew anxious whenever he found himself confined. During such instances, he often experienced difficulty breathing, sometimes even blacking out. Nevertheless, his older brother was always there, even beyond the closed door, listening and attempting to calm him down, reassuring Regulus that he wasn't alone.
After the door opened, Regulus and Sirius would embrace, holding onto each other for several minutes without letting go.