Brothers again
When Regulus Black was eleven years old he’d spent his first ever train ride to Hogwarts sitting with his elder brother Sirius. This within itself had been an act of rebellion as his mother had lectured him relentlessly for over an hour before the journey about not sitting anywhere near him. He was to “make a good first impression” and by that she had, of course, meant that he was supposed to seek out some well connected pureblood families and make friends early on.
She wanted him to establish himself immediately as a true Black, to not taint himself by associating with his blood traitor brother and Regulus had fully intended to follow her advice. He didn’t cross Walburga Black if he could help it, being her favourite didn’t always save him from her scrutiny. Yet when he stepped on the train, doe eyed and innocent in a way that he would never be again after this evening, he found himself clinging to Sirius’ side. The train was packed, bursting at the seams with students and magic, though not technically allowed, was flying about everywhere. It was simply self preservation to follow his brother who at thirteen years old already had enough of a reputation that the crowds parted easily for him, it was survival.
Though he was still young he knew only too well about survival. He knew what to say and what to do to stop his mother and father from being angered. He could play the role that they wanted him to play, he could be their perfect pureblood son. Sirius never seemed to have grasped that concept, it was like he lived to anger them. Regulus sometimes thought that he did it on purpose, brash, bold Gryffindor that he was. But still he sat beside him, mouth closed tightly with nerves as the train dashed across the countryside.
Sirius beamed when he realised Regulus was going to stay and something glimmered beneath the surface of the grey eyes that they shared. It was hope, Sirius was hopeful that Regulus would stay with him, that they could still be brothers despite all that had happened. For a moment, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone - not even himself, Regulus felt it too. He felt a flicker of hope that they could be like they had been when they were small children again and it bloomed with a surprising warmth in his chest. Then James Potter had to fling himself into the compartment and ruin it all.
The worst part was Potter didn’t even do anything. He even smiled at Regulus when Sirius wrapped a heavy arm around his shoulder and introduced the two of them. Potter didn’t do anything but Regulus couldn’t escape the way that the two of them interacted. Like brothers his traitorous mind hissed in his ear, understanding each other in a way that Regulus and Sirius had never quite managed. It was easy between the two of them, natural and he had never felt more bitter in his life.
Halfway into the train journey he stood up abruptly “I'm going to get some air” he said and Sirius had looked up from his rather violent game of wizard chess with James to level him with a stare. He looked at him like he knew, knew what Regulus was thinking and his eyes softened “il open the window” he tried but Regulus shook his head.
“I'm going to stretch my legs,” he asserted.
“See you later” James had said distractedly, analysing his next chess move. He didn’t seem to notice that Sirius was silently pleading with his brother. They stared at each other for a long moment before Regulus gave a minute shake of his head and made his way out of the compartment.
Walking down the length of the train, he felt out of place and nervous but he held his head up high. Copying the fierce look of proud superiority that his cousin Bellatrix always wore, it injected him with a false sense of confidence. Finally he reached a compartment with a lone boy sitting by himself reading a book, he could tell instantly that the boy was pureblood. It was in the way he was sitting, the way he was holding himself. Only old wizard families managed to look that haughty. Regulus hesitated for only a fraction of a second, looking back to the compartment that his brother was in, the soft glow of the train lamps making it almost look inviting. Then he slid the compartment with the boy in open “Im Regulus'' he said, steeling his courage “Regulus Arcturus Black.”
The boy smirked “Rosier” he said “Evan, Rosier.” and Regulus sat down without looking back again.
Later, when the sorting hat was placed on his head, way too big and plunging his world into darkness he steeled his courage once more. “Slytherin,” he thought loudly. “Are you sure?” the hat had asked, sounding almost as if it had an eyebrow raised. “You’d do very well in Ravenclaw, I even see a little bit of Gryffindor-like courage in here too.”
“No!” Regulus pretty much shouted. He thought of his family, he thought of the way that they had reacted when his brother had been sorted. Self preservation. “Slytherin” he said again, more firmly and the hat paused only a second longer before shouting the serpent house out loudly for the whole hall to hear. He glanced towards the Gryffindor table as he went to sit down, meeting his brother's eyes for a second. The disappointment was almost suffocating and Regulus turned away quickly before he could think more about that spark of hope leaving the eyes they shared.
_______
When the door to the parlour opened again moments later Regulus thought that it would be Hermione, assuming she’d forgotten something. Instead it was brother and Regulus, still reeling from the shock of finding out he’d been thrust twenty years into the future, didn’t have the mental capacity left to dissect why he was ever so slightly disappointed.
“Sirius” he breathed and his voice sounded alien even to himself, so unlike the way it usually sounded, shaped by his emotion.
His brother stood at the entrance to the door, fingers hovering over the chipped wood and for a moment he just stared. “Regulus” he finally said and though only two words had been uttered a thousand things had already been communicated through their eyes.
Eventually Sirius moved from the doorway and sat hesitantly across from the younger man. Neither of them spoke, words didn’t seem enough anymore with the gravity and weight of the situation. Even without the time travel it would have been years since the two brothers had spoken, since they screamed cutting words at one another. Separately, they were both revisiting their last moments together, reflecting on the anger of the past.
After what could have been mere moments or perhaps hours Regulus finally broke the silence. “You look like shit” he blurted out. He couldn’t quite believe the way that time had changed his brother. It wasn’t just that he was older, it was that he was haunted. He could see glimmers of the handsome young man Sirius used to be but they were marred by the weight of something heavier in his eyes, by the depth of layers and layers of deep trauma.
The corners of Sirius’ mouth tugged up, a flicker of amusement glimmering under the surface. “You look the same,” he said, “as if no time has passed at all.”
“It hasn’t” Regulus replied softly “for me.”
“Why are you here?” Sirius asked eventually and Regulus frowned.
“Didn’t the Potter tell you? It was the time turner it -”
“I know that” Sirius interrupted “I meant the events that led you to here. Why did you go against Voldemort? Why did you try to destroy the horcrux?”
Regulus swallowed, that was the million dollar question wasn’t it? Why, why why. It made his head hurt, he wasn’t even sure he could explain it. Sirius was looking at him though, waiting, and Regulus knew that this moment mattered more than any other moment that had led up to it. It mattered more than his conversation with Hermione, with Harry, mattered more even than his chat with the aurors. This was his brother and if there was any hope of building a bridge between them it started here with the truth.
“I think it was pride at first,” he admitted. Sirius didn’t react, expressionless and silent, letting him speak. “I didn’t like that he’d hurt Kreacher. Kreacher was our elf, he was loyal and he didn’t deserve the disregard the dark lord showed him.”
Sirius ran a finger around the edge of his glass, considering his words. “So it was okay for him to hurt, kill, torture muggleborns and muggles but house elves was where you drew the line?”
Regulus flinched and Sirius continued “because you had to have known that's what the death eaters were about, didn’t you? And yet you volunteered. You were marked.”
“I didn’t volunteer,” Regulus explained, “I was forced.”
Sirius didn’t look convinced “I highly doubt he had to force you Regulus, you had a fan collage on your bedroom wall.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opening them to meet Sirius' gaze and willing him to listen. “When you left the family” he began “mother was furious.”
“That old hag was always furious -” Sirius interrupted but Regulus held up a hand.
“Let me explain, please” and Sirius quieted.
“She was furious because it made the other families talk. It was different to when Andy got married to that muggleborn. You were the heir Sirius. That meant so much more. The Lestranges, the Notts, the Carrows, they started to question if our families breeding was becoming ineffective, and didn't want to marry their daughters off to ‘bad stock’. Apparently before you ran off mother was in the middle of arranging a marriage for you, to Alecto Carrow. There was uproar about what would have happened if you’d have married her before it came out that you were a blood traitor.”
Sirius frowned “I would have never married that evil bitch.”
“I know that,” Regulus said, “but nevertheless people talked. Mother was desperate to repair the families image. Bellatrix convinced her that joining the death eaters was a surefire way to do just that. She wasn’t convinced at first, said it could be dangerous and I was her only heir but Bellatrix said she would look after me, that Cissa’s husband would be there too. That it was an honour.”
“So you were coerced into joining” Sirius said “but what about the collage? And your attitude? You didn't exactly seem against the whole thing.”
Regulus swallowed and it felt like there was a lump of glass sliding down his throat. “I wasn’t” he admitted “I thought it was an honour too. You were right. I knew what they did, I knew how they thought about people with ‘impure blood’.”
He picked up his cup and drained the rest of his coffee. “I was sixteen when the dark lord marked me and I thought it was an honour. No one that young had ever been marked by him before, been invited into the inner circle. I was wrong, it wasn't an honour it was a test. I had to prove that our family was still worthy of being a part of the sacred 28, that I was made of better stuff than you. They made me leave Hogwarts and the dark lord gave me these impossible tasks so he could hold my failure over us, use it to control us to his whims.”
Sirius thought about the cousin he’d never met but that Harry had told him so much about, Draco Malfoy. He’d been marked as a punishment and a test too, it seemed that Voldemort hadn’t really changed his tricks over the years.
“The things he made me do, the things I saw Sirius” Regulus shifted forward on his seat, looking at his brother and Sirius hadn’t heard his voice like this in years. It reminded him of when they were children. “It was horrible. I couldn’t handle it and I think even he was beginning to sense that weakness in me, it’s why he took Kreacher. You were right” Regulus sighed “you were right and it was far too late when I realised it. I guess that blood purity, being a death eater and that whole thing seemed so much grander in theory than it was in practice.”
“You should have come to me,” Sirius said but Regulus shook his head.
“I knew I would spend the rest of my life regretting the mistake I made in not running away with you that night but I also knew what I had to do. When I found out the dark lord had made a horcrux I was horrified. Magic that dark should never be practised and the idea of him continuing on with what he was doing forever?” he shuddered, “I thought maybe if I destroyed it that there would be a chance for a better world.”
“You should have come to me,” Sirius said again, “come to the order, we could have destroyed it together.”
Regulus shook his head again “no” he said “no that was not a risk I was willing to take. If the dark lord had ever found out you had a hand in destroying it he would have come for you personally. He’d just annihilated the McKinnons. I wouldn't let you put an even bigger target on your back. I didn’t want that to happen to you.”
Sirius was silent for a long while, processing the story. When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse with emotion. “I was wrong” he said and Regulus looked up from where he had been staring at his lap.
“You do look different” Sirius continued “it’s your eyes.”
When Regulus looked up and met Sirius' own eyes he felt for a moment as though he was spinning in time again. He could feel himself sitting under the sorting hat and seeing his brother's hope fade away as it shouted Slytherin. Only this time it was in reverse and Regulus saw the hope begin to spread across his face, hope that things could be repaired between them. He reached out and did something he hadn’t done since he was seven years old, he grasped Sirius hand. For a moment they said nothing but Sirius squeezed his hand and in that second, they were brothers again.