Chapter 1
Regulus
The freezing water burned as he was pulled deeper and deeper below the surface, long cold hands wrapped around his ankles and pulling with strength he couldn’t fight. He reached out, stretching to try to break the surface and grab onto something, anything to help save him, but it was futile. No one was here and no one was coming.
Please, he thought as he tried to hold his breath, desperate to hold on as the darkness swallowed him.
Please.
Please.
I don’t want to die.
He knew how this would end. He knew when he entered this place. He knew from the moment he took the mark that his life would end before it began.
His eyes stung, the salty water burning as he stared up at the retreating light. Waiting for the impossible, hoping that against all odds someone would pull him out.
Please, Sirius, please, one more time
He knew the prayer was hopeless. His older brother had left him in that house and never looked back. He’d never reached out, never even bothered to look his way after that night. The first and final thing Sirius ever said to him after that night echoed in the silence of the water around him.
‘You are no brother of mine’
It hurt. It hurt the moment the words had came out of his big brothers mouth and it had hurt every day since. It hurt now, as he battled for his life. Sirius had always been there for him, from the moment he was born Sirius had been there for him to shield him from their parents. The boy who taught him where to hide when it wasn’t safe. The boy who held him when their mother thought him weak.
Regulus would never forget that day. The day the numbness came and never left. All the warmth left inside him draining away as his lifeline spat out the words with all the hate and disdain he could muster. The brightest light in his miserable life, turning off.
And yet even in his final moments, he couldn’t help but hope that after all these years... maybe... just maybe... his big brother would come to his rescue one more time. If he’d been more alert, more awake, less scared, he would have chided himself for being so pathetic.
But Regulus was scared. Regulus was dying, and all he wanted was for his big brother to appear and save him one more time, just like he had done so many times when they were children.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t even know he was in trouble but even if he had, deep down Reg knew, Sirius would have let him die.
As dark spots began to crowd Regulus’ vision, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He sucked in, and salt water came rushing into his lungs. It burned. It hurt worse than the lacero. It hurt more than the cruciatus.
Sirius... please...
He was barley out of hogwarts. He was only seventeen. He never wanted this. He had only wanted... He’d only ever wanted... All he wanted was...
At last, Regulus Black’s world, went black.
---
“No, stop,” Regulus shouted, or tried to shout at least.
His voice was hoarse, and his throat was like sandpaper. But he could feel hands. Cold hands wrapping around his wrists.
No please, no, I can’t, stop
“Please, stop,” he tried again but his voice croaked out barley above a whisper.
Regulus tried to open his eyes but he couldn’t. He tried to pull away but he couldn’t.
The hands gripped tighter and Reg tried yet again to call out, for whoever these hands belonged to, to let him go. But no words came out, only a painful breath cutting its way out of his lungs.
The hands gripped tighter again and for a moment he was weightless, the ground beneath him falling away but then his stomach lurched and a twisting spinning sensation crumpled him into nothing with a loud CRACK.
---
Sirius
Sirius took another sip from his bottle of firewhiskey.
Remus was gone again. He was always gone these days. It was like the first war all over again, except worse. Last time he’d had James to help him through it all. James to hold him when he didn’t know if Moony would come back from his missions alive.
Last time he’d had his own missions to distract himself with. His own missions to keep his mind off the constant threat of losing everyone he loved.
Last time he’d had Lily and Marls and Mary and...
Sirius let out a blood curdling screech, standing up and hurled the half empty bottle in his hands at the wall.
Peter. He’d had Peter fucking Pettigrew. Whispering in his ears. Spreading lies about HIS Moony.
‘He is a werewolf... and on those missions’
‘Maybe they offered him something... maybe he took it’
Peter, Peter, Peter fucking Pettigrew. The fucking little rat.
It had been nearly 14 years and he still couldn’t get out that rage.
He had nearly gotten there, 12 years of torture for the crime of that coward committed and he had nearly gotten his revenge. Then what did little old wormtail do? He wormed his way out and left Sirius to deal with everything all over fucking again.
He supposes he should be grateful on some level. He was no longer in that place, surrounded by dementors, sucking away every happy thought he’d ever had. There weren’t many to start with and these days they were all lined with silver.
“Moony, Prongs, Padfoort and... that FUCKING RAT,” he shouted again at the whiskey splattered on the wall in front of him.
All those years, all their time together.
Sirius hadn’t tried to cast a patronus since he’d gotten out. It was pointless. He knew he’d never be able to again.
And that was torture itself.
During the first war, before Peter had fed him lies to doubt Remus, his patronus had been a wolf. It had been Moony. It’d been his only source of comfort when Remus had been away. He’d cast the spell every time he needed something, anything, to help give him the strength to get through it all.
Especially on full moons, like tonight, when Remus was away with the packs. All Sirius wanted was to be by his side but he couldn’t be. So he’d cast the spell in the apartment they shared and turn into Padfoot playing with the charm, pretending that his Moony was safe right there with him.
Sirius’ eyes began to sting, his throat closing up.
All he wanted right now was his Moony, and he wasn’t here. He was away again. Risking his life again. Fighting a war that had already taken everything from them both and he was here. Stuck in this house. Stuck in this place that did nothing but haunt him day in and day out.
Tears threatened to spill out, but he held them back, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back up at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to fucking cry. Not here. Not in this place. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
The lump in his throat burned, but Sirius clenched his jaw in response. She wouldn’t win. He wouldn’t win. They wouldn’t beat him in this place ever fucking again. That’s what he had said all those years ago and he wasn’t going to back down now.
That’s what he had promised himself that night. That fucking night.
The night Walburga cast that curse. The night that Orion beat him senseless.
The night Regulus stood in the corner and just fucking watched as Sirius was struke over and over, cursed over and over until he was brought to the brink of death.
The irony of it all was that the scars Walburga and Orion had left were nothing compared to the hole in his heart that Regulus had punched. Sirius had been there for him, protected him, held him, his entire life trying to save his little brother from their parents and yet when it all came down to it? When Sirius needed saving? Regulus was a slimy fucking coward that saved his own skin.
He hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even flinched as Sirius had screamed and begged for them to stop. Worst of all had been the smirk. The slight curl of his mouth that had appeared as the cruciatus took hold. Sirius had fought for his brother for so long. Defending him. Trying to do everything in his power to help save him. And in the end, Regulus was just the perfect Black heir they’d brainwashed him to be.
They were nothing to him and he wouldn’t let them eve-
CRACK
---
Regulus
The hands were gone. The moment the world around him rematerialised, the hands had let him go.
He wasn’t cold anymore either. Whoever had brought him here seemed to have placed him in a bed. There was a heavy blanket pressing down on top of him, and his loose robes were soft against his skin. It was warm here and Regulus couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.
It felt like he’d spent years holding his breath.
Come on Reg, open your eyes, he tried to tell himself. He hated being this way. Unable to move, unable to speak. It reminded him of being under the imperius curse. His mother and father had loved to use that on him. Sirius had learnt to fight it off eventually. He hated that he had never been able to do the same.
He took another deep breath, in through his mouth and out through his nose. He had to stay calm.
The air was stale. It had a musty odor and... no.
Regulus quickly sucked in another breath and... no no no.
Again he breathed in, hoping that... but no it was still there. He would always recognise the Grimmauld place smell. Before he had a chance to breath out, he sucked in another breath, and another. He tried to breath out, then he tried to breath in. But it was too fast, too shallow.
He couldn’t be here. Why was he here, he’d only just left. It was the middle of term. It was supposed to be months before he came back. His mother would kill him if she found him here. He couldn’t skip classes, if he fell behind Orion said he would... no. He had to get out. He couldn’t be here. Why was he here.
Regulus tried to calm himself down, but his lungs wouldn’t listen. His pulse quickened, thumping loudly in his ears.
No, no please. He couldn’t be back here. Not now, not so soon. He wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t be.
He tried to move, tried to open his eyes, but he was locked in. He was stuck. He was trapped.
Please let me out. Please no. I’m sorry. Please stop. I’m sorry. I can’t be here.
His silent pleas echoed in his mind, swirling around like a storm. His parents’ voices thundered. ‘Weak’ ‘Useless’ ‘Traitor’. Lightning like flashes of Sirius bleeding out, memories of his own punishments for that evening.
Please let me go. Let me out. I’m sorry. Please.
His breaths were shallow and fast. He tried to keep them even but with every flash and boom he lost more and more control. His throat began to tighten, as tears welled up in his closed eyes. The lump in his throat begging to be swallowed.
No, please. This can’t be. It’s a dream. Wake up. Wake up. Wake UP.
Regulus shot up, eyes snapping open completely out of breath.
His eyes darted around the room.
No. No no no. He was here, he was back at this place. Why was he here. He had to get out before they found him.
Regulus kicked back his blanket.
“Ow,” he said with a groan, doubling over as shooting pains pulse through his entire body. He trembled, wrapping his arms tightly around himself trying not to make a sound that would alert anyone of his presence. Why was he hurt? He had healed himself pretty well after returning to Hogwarts after christmas. Healing charms had been the first thing he taught himself after coming to Hogwarts. He was no Pomfrey but he was good enough.
Deal with it later, we have to get out
Moving more slowly this time turned and hung his legs over the edge of his bed, ready to carefully lower himself to the ground to avoid shocking his system and getting another bout of pain.
But he paused, frowning as he looked down. His robes were way too big. They didn’t look like school robes either and they didn’t look like anything he owned. The trousers he was wearing fell past his feet to the floor, the bottoms of his robes reaching just as far.
The surprise was enough to shock his breathing back into rhythm.
“That’s odd,” he muttered to himself.
He’d been taken to get refitted for new robes just before he had started third year. Nothing but the best for her only son, his mother had lectured him. He’d felt guilty for that. No matter how bad things had gotten with Sirius, their parents had always put their image first and gotten him the best clothes money could buy, but that didn’t mean they actually took him out into public places. No. Everything was done privately for Sirius, just as everything was done publicly for Regulus. Always pitting them against one another. Pulling them apart.
Perhaps these were his clothes? But why would he be wearing a pair of Sirius’ robes. How would he even have them? Besides, surly he wasn’t that much shorter than his brother. He had always been on the smaller side. At hogwarts he was one of the youngest in his year being august born, so it made sense but still... he had a feeling his small stature might have something to do with the types of punishments his mother and father preferred for him.
Regulus had noticed that since turning 16, Sirius had finally hit a growth spurt, but he wasn’t exactly tall for his age, still a couple of inches shorter than the Potter boy and nowhere near as tall as the Lupin kid. He was also still shorter than their parents. They’d made sure to use that one against him at Christmas.
No matter, I’ll worry about it later
He had to get out.
Carefully, he lowered himself to the floor, wincing slightly at the contact as pain shot up through his body. He figured could probably floo himself to Hogsmeade and walk back to the castle from there.
Regulus scoured his memories, trying to think of a reason he might be here. The last thing he remembered was sitting by the lake with Pandora and Evan working through their transfiguration homework. They’d been working on hardening charms. It was an uncharacteristically warm winter day and they’d jumped at the chance to enjoy the sun before it went back into hibernation till march. But it was fuzzy.
He as certain he was missing part of the story, but he just couldn’t remember. Some other people had been around. Barty maybe? Dorcas? And then he remembered going over toward the lake to get something and then... ughhh. It was right there. He was certain of it. He just couldn’t quite make out the picture.
How had he gone from laughing in the sun with two of his best friends, to waking up here in this house? It didn’t make sense.
Regulus crept forward toward the door. One foot in front of the other. He avoided the creaky floorboards, and made sure to walk as lightly as possible.
Come on Reg, almost there
He was just about to reach for the door handle when...
Thump, thump, thump
“Shit,” Regulus breathed.
Footsteps. Coming up the stairs. No no no. They sounded heavy. They sounded angry. No no no. He had to be quiet. There was no reason for them to come in here. They either thought he was at school or asleep. Either way there was no reason for them to come into his room.
Thump, thump, thump
His breath hitched as the steps grew louder, nearing the top of the stairs, coming closer and closer to his room. Maybe he should run back to bed. Maybe he could pretend to seep. But if they were not expecting him... Maybe he could hide, but no. If they were expecting him, they’d find him and...
Neither option was the right option. No no no. What was he going to do.
Stay calm. Stay silent. Just don’t give them a reason to come here.
Regulus held his breath and stayed as still as he possibly could. Listening for the footsteps, praying to Merlin and Morgana whoever was coming up those stairs wouldn’t come his way.
He was good at this. He could do this. He had survived 13 years in this place, he could keep get through the next 13 minutes. Fighting was Sirius’ thing, hiding was his.
Just hold it together. It’s gonna be fine, he reassured himself.
He tangled his hands together beneath the sleeves of his robes, twisting his fingers anxiously.
Thump, thump, thump
He could feel himself shrinking into the robes as the footsteps reached the top of the staircase.
Come on, now turn-
Thump, thump, thump
His breathing began picking up again. No. Please no. Not here.
The footsteps echoed louder and louder as they approached his end of the hall.
No, please no stop. Stop, please. I can’t. I’m sorry.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump...
They were just a few meters from his door. Just outside the study room.
At that moment, Regulus had to make a decision. If he was found standing here, frozen wearing robes 3 sizes too big he was screwed no matter what his parents were expecting to see. So like the coward he was, he made the choice to hide in his cupboard.
He twisted, turning around when the bottom of his pant leg caught on his ankle, sending him tumbling to the ground with a very loud THUD.
“Ow,” regulus cried out. He was done for.
The moment he made contact with the floorboards, his whole body erupted in stabbing pains all over. Shooting through every bone and muscle inside him. If the giant crashing sound hadn’t given him away, his cry would have.
He heard the steps. Fasting this time, thump thump thump. They were coming. He wasn’t ready. He was scared. Thump thump thump. No, please. He couldn’t do this alone. Not again. Thump thump thump.
The footsteps stopped and Regulus heard the unmistakable sound of a deep, frustrated breath.
He tensed and schooled his features as best he could.
The door handle clicked and the door swung open with a SMACK.
No. No. No.
The blood drained from his face.
A tall man wearing pitch black robes looked down at him. His face was sharp and pale, with a sneer plastered on. His dark hair was messy and tangled, cropped at the shoulders with streaks of silver scattered through it.
He towered over Regulus and Regulus shrunk backwards, further into his too big robes as the man glared down at him with a look of disdain.
It was his father. No, please no.
Regulus could smell the firewhiskey on him. He could hear his deep breaths.
Please, no. This couldn’t be happening. He’d barely survived last time, he couldn’t go through this again.
His father pitched forward, standing even taller and stepped inside the room toward Regulus.
He wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t cry. It would only make it worse. But Regulus couldn’t stop the stinging in his eyes nor the lump in his throat growing. He kept his expression as blank as possible. Trying desperately with everything he had in him to remain calm and keep himself composed. It was his job. He was trained for this. Never show emotion. Never let them see you weak.
Regulus was perfect at this skill. He never let anyone get to him. He never failed. He never faulted. Never... unless facing his own mum or dad.
He could feel his shoulders rounding. He could feel himself shrinking further away.
Stop it Reg, stop doing that, stop you have to stay upright.
But it was no use.
His breath quickened. Short, fast and shallow. He tried to keep them quiet but that only made it worse. He could feel the tears, threatening to fall and he was powerless to stop them.
Maybe if he wasn’t already hurting. Maybe if he knew why he was here. Maybe if he was wearing his robes and wasn’t completely lost on what the hell was going on here he could have kept it together,
But he was already hurting and he didn’t know why he was here. His whole body ached and he was so confused. He was tired and frustrated and... he was scared. He was so, so scared of his father right now.
He wanted to look away. Break eye contact with his father and hide. He wanted to stand up and ran away, fight and escape. But he couldn’t do it. He was weak. He was powerless. He was just an ignorant child getting in everyone's way. Ruining everyones lives. So instead Regulus watched as his father staggered toward him, raising his one hand up by his head.
Regulus prepared himself to take it.
---
Sirius
CRACK
That ruddy fucking house elf!!
Was just about all the thoughts going through Sirius' mind as he stomped his way upstairs.
He had never liked that house elf, and he was certain the bastard thing had never liked him back. Always muttering under his breath. Insulting his entire existence. Calling Remus every horrible name under the sun he could think. Proudly too, without an ounce of remorse. Well Sirius was over it. He was done.
He had told Kreature over and over and over again not to apparate inside his fucking house and he wouldn’t fucking stop doing it. Especially when Moony was away. Especially when he was alone and already on the verge of a breakdown. Did it have no sense of self preservation? Surly it knew better than to go against his wishes at times like this?
“Well it will bloody well know for next time,” he grunted, mentally prepare himself to scream and yell and get as much of his anger out on the stupid elf as he saw fit.
Sirius reached the stop of the stairs trying to figure out where the noise had come from. Perhaps the study? That was the only place on this side of the house with anything valuable left inside, and Kreature had taken up a lovely new hobby lately trying to steal and hide valuable things.
He clenched his jaw thinking about all the things he’d caught the elf with lately. Books, jewels, paintings, cauldrons. All probably cursed. All probably expensive, dark and dangerous. Just like everything in this house.
It didn’t even make sense for the stupid elf to take it anywhere. What was he going to do with it? Then again, why try logically reasoning with a crazy old elf that had a penchant for torture and disobedience. The thing was going senile, probably faster now he had Sirius for company than he had in the years spent alone.
Sirius smiled at the thought of Kreature going mad and kicking the bucket. The final nail in the coffin of the dark members of the most ancient and noble house of black. He would be tempted to kill the thing himself, if it wasn’t Black family tradition for the head of house to kill the house of elf once it got too old. Granted he wouldn’t have been mounting Kreatures head to the wall, but even the act seemed to close for comfort.
As he reached for the office door handle, he was interrupted by a loud THUD coming from...
No. That fucking... How dare it... How fucking dare it go in that fucking room...
Sirius had a lot of rules and Kreature loved to bend and twist those rules as much as he possibly could while technically following orders. It was Sirius fault really, he didn’t care enough to make the orders specific, preferred to just shout at the thing when it didn’t do what he wanted done. Moony always told him he should try be a little kinder to the thing but after all it did? No. He needed a verbal punching bag and Kreature was the perfect target.
So yes, Sirius was used to Kreature not following instructions, but this? He had expressly forbidden ever stepping foot in any of the family rooms ever again. He had thought of everything. Ever loophole, every possible trick, everything potential way it could worm his way around the orders. Kreature was to leave the rooms as they were and never, ever step foot in them again.
And he fucking was. Breaking two rules at once. Apparating into Regulus’ old room in the middle of the night.
He was going to fucking enjoy this.
‘Ow’
Sirius froze.
Was that a... human voice?
Sirius blinked.
How could another person get into that room?
Sirius blinked again.
Had Kreature brought one of his relatives here?
Sirius’ face twisted into a sneer. No. Not fucking today elf.
He took a deep breath and stomped down towards the door. Regulus’ old door. The door he had not seen open in 20 years. He made himself known. Making his footsteps as loud as he could. Making sure that whoever was behind that door knew that they were in for it.
He locked his eyes on the handle, and moved toward it. Ignoring every memory and every emotion that was trying to filter to the surface as he approached. Regulus was gone and Sirius had considered him gone since 1975. He did not care and he did not give a shit. Whoever was in there trying to bring up old memories was about to get taught a lesson.
He reached for the handle, and pushed it down, swinging the door open so hard and so fast, it slammed into the wall behind it with SMACK.
Sirius let the stale air waft over him and he stepped inside, glaring down at the small figure wrapped up in an oversized set of robes, with a look of -
At that moment, Sirius felt every single drop of blood in his entire body drain away. He went completely cold and his eyes widened as he stared down at the child cowering away from him, a familiar look of sheer terror written all over his face with tears streaming down his cheeks.
The child... with short wavy black... wide grey eyes... sharp features and pale skin... just like... that looked just like...
Sirius sucked in a long, deep breath. No. He was going mad. He was hallucinating.
He slammed shut his eyes. This wasn’t real. This was not fucking real.
He was not real. He was not fucking here. He was fucking dead and had been for nearly 2 fucking decades.
This was not possible. This was not real.
Sirius opened them again, ready to walk away and...
He was... he was still there... he was right still fucking there...
He was... was sitting right in front of him. Alive and breathing and... how on earth could this be...
Sirius’ vision blurred for a moment, his heart racing.
Regulus... His little brother... his dead little brother was alive and in his childhood bedroom.
And not just Regulus... his Regulus... the boy he’d been before everything really gone to shit. His Reg. His little baby brother Reggie.
The one who... The one he’d... The boy that Sirius had loved so much that he...
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. Regulus could not be here. It was impossible. Regulus died. Regulus was a death eater that died in service of voldemort. Regulus was a purport... He was an evil little... little boy... who was alive and here...
Sirius’ mind was swirling uncontrollably. He couldn’t think properly. He couldn’t function. How was this possible? This shouldn’t be possible. His brain was clear and full of fog. It was dark and light. He was cold and hot. He was elated and miserable. Sirius was every good thing all at once and every bad thing at the exact same time as he took in the sight of someone he never thought he would ever see again. The sight of a little boy he had once loved and cherished with every part of heart and soul, more than he had ever cared about himself. The little brother he had loved to the fullest capacity he had ever been able to love. His mind pulled up memory after memory. Image after image.
The day he’d taught his little brother how to ride a broomstick. Watching in awe as his little protege shot across the Black Manor fields.
The pride of watching Regulus win every game of chess they played with ease and laughing with joy as he beat his elder brother.
The first time they’d hugged in over 8 months after Sirius' first year at Hogwarts, in the middle of the platform, just so happy to see each other after so much time apart. The look of complete and utter relief and uncontainable joy on his little brother's face that made that entire summer worth it.
This was Regulus. His Regulus. He was... alive.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The room faded away, and it was just the two brothers, locked in each other's gaze. Sirius had always been one to keep his composure, a pillar of strength. But at this moment, as the weight of the world seemed to press down on him, he was on the verge of crumbling.
Sirius vision blurred slightly as he tried to comprehend all that was going on at once. He raised his hand up by his head to the doorframe to steady himself and Regulus flinched back, violently, his eyes closing tightly as he turned to the side, trying to protect himself from what he thought was an incoming...
Sirius froze.
He couldn’t move.
Sirius couldn’t move. His arm, suspended in mid-air, felt suddenly heavy and alien to her.
Regulus thought he was... his little brother thought he was going to... to hurt him.
His stomach twisted. Memories of himself staring up at his mother and father moments before their hands came down onto him flashed through his mind. Memories of watching Regulus read himself for the incoming blows...
Regulus was afraid of him. He was scaring him. Regulus was scared that he was going to hurt him.
Sirius chest tightened as the walls around him all began to distort, twisting and turning, closing in on him as he watched Regulus tremble at the sight of his own raised hand. He wanted to put it down. He wanted to stop but he couldn’t move. Sirius could not react. He was making a child feel the one thing he had vowed that he would never ever ever make anyone feel.
His eyes looked past the small child before him, flicking up toward the mirror on the wall, sitting across from the door and Sirius almost flinched at the sight himself.
A cold wave of realization washed over him.
The hair, the clothes, the eyes... he looked like Orion. He was the spitting image of his father moments before he would unleash his rage upon his own children. Regulus thought he was their father.
Sirius shivered and his arm immediately dropped to his side. A solitary tear teetered on the edge of his quivering eyelash before cascading down his cheek. It was the first of many to come, as his trembling lips tried to form words, but his voice abandoned him. He felt as though his heart had been torn from her chest, leaving a gaping, aching void.
But that was nothing compared to the guilt. It clung to him. Suffocating him. As he played out what had just happened over and over again in his head. The way he had slammed open the door, a look of rage and anger on his face ready to attack whoever had been in this room. The way he had raised his arm and watched his Reggie flinch away from him in terror.
He wanted to say something. Sirius knew he needed to say something. But he couldn’t. Instead he watched as Regulus opened his red eyes, puffy and wet with tears and crawled back away from him, pushing himself up against the mirror and forcing Sirius to look at himself once more.
He had to stop this, stop making his little brother feel like this.
Sirius could see Regulus' mouth moving as he folded his knees into his chest but he couldn’t hear a single thing. His world was silent. Everything was quiet, even the thoughts that had never once subsided since escaping Azkaban were gone.
He couldn’t do this. He had too-
Sirius reached out, intending to go to Reg. Comfort him. Do something. But the moment he inched forwards, the boy flinched back again, shrinking even smaller into a ball.
Instead, Sirius reached for the door handle and without hesitation stepped back into the halfway, slamming it shut.