Chapter 2
Regulus
Regulus was still shaking.
It was the 1st of September, just hours after he’d waved goodbye to his older brother as he left for school. Mother and father had told him, they’d told him he was to stop with his nonsense and start behaving like the pureblood heir he was. Maybe that was why he’d done it, or maybe this really was just proof of his out of placeness in their family.
They three of them had just finished dinner and settled down in the library, his mother insisting he get a start on his lessons that evening, when a letter had dropped into his mothers lap.
It was neatly folded, with the Black family seal stamped neatly at its edge. For a moment, Regulus had been elated. He hadn’t expected Sirius to write until tomorrow, but he’d written early and he was still awake. He immediately stood up, unable to hide the joyous grin on his face, so excited to hear all about Hogwarts, that was, until he noticed the handwriting on the parchment. It was a neat cursive that look similar to Sirius’, but it wasn’t his. The letters were too sharp, too pointed, too hastily written.
His mother had seemed completely unsurprised to receive the letter, and opened it without hesitation. His father looked toward him and gestured for Regulus to sit back down. Regulus obliged, but didn’t take his eyes off his mother as she read the letter.
After that, everything was a bit jumbled up blur. The shouting, the ranting, the arguing. Regulus heard it all, had to sit there and listen to it all, as his mother and father screamed about their ungrateful embarrassment of a son. He hadn’t dared move. He kept as small as he could, just as he always did when voices were raised in this house and listened to the words being spat around the room.
Sirius was a Gryffindor. He was associating with blood traitors and mudbloods. He was impure. He was tarnishing himself and their families reputation. He was a stain on their legacy that seemed to be going down the same path as cousin Andromeda and uncle Alphard.
His parents didn’t calm down. They just got louder and louder, angrier and angrier as the passed insults back and forth. Regulus had tried to tune it out, focus on the book he was supposed to be reading, but it was impossible when his mother and father were talking about how badly they wanted to hurt his big brother.
He waited, trying to wait for a moment it would be safe to slip out unnoticed and hide until the screaming was over. He failed. And oh boy, did they let him know it.
Walburga had turned on him first. She got right up close to his face. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. She grabbed his arm as he tried to flee and twisted so hard he was sure the skin would break. She had called him weak, pathetic, insolent. He’d been order to study and he was defying her orders. Was he a blood traitor too? Had she raised two completely worthless sons?
Orion had joined in next. He towered over Regulus and shouted until his ears rung. Waving his arms around the room like a madman, scaring Regulus more than he’d ever been scared in his life.
They had hurt him before. He had the scars to prove it. But it had never been like this, this was what happened to Sirius, not him.
He had tried so hard. So, so hard to keep himself composed. Tried to keep his features calm and not react to the abuse being hurled toward him. He knew if he reacted it would only make it worse, he knew that showing fear would only result in them coming down on him even harder. He knew he ought not to cry, but he was only 9. He was only a child and he couldn’t stop the frightened tears from forming, nor prevent them from fall down his cheeks as her shook.
That had really done. His father had stuck him then, right across the cheek while his mother held him in place to accept the next blow. He’d cried out, and immediately received another blow. He felt the crack beneath his skin, the tear of skin as the rings his father wore caught on his flesh and blood dripped onto the floor.
It hurt so much. So, so much.
Sirius help me, had been been his first thought, but then he remembered, Sirius was gone. He was at Hogwarts and Regulus was here all alone with no one but himself to save him.
Regulus had been hit before. But never this bad, never with this much anger.
He’d been yelled at yes, but never with so much hate and disdain.
His fathers eyes had burned with rage as he’d continued to shout at his weak little son. He had better improve. He had better grow up. He was born to be his brother's back-up and he would do well to remember his purpose.
His father struck him once more before he left the room, muttering and swaying as he headed up the stairs to his study.
Regulus had made the mistake of relaxing at that moment, collapsing back into his mothers arms, expecting her to hold him and pepper him with apologies. She had done it before after his punishments. Always telling him how sorry she was, how much she loved him. That if he just listened next time she and Orion wouldn’t have to resort to these measures.
This was not like those times.
Instead she immediately shrieked. Howling with anger and no remorse. She had pushed him off her, onto the ground and pulled out her wand. Slash, slash, slash. His legs were cut raw. Straight red lines carved up his legs and he wailed as he begged for forgiveness. Apologized for Sirius’ actions and pleaded with her to stop.
His vision was a reddish blur or tears as he cowering in front of his mother, wishing more than anything that Sirius would walk through the door and rescue him. Whisk him away to Hogwarts too where he could be save with his brother, away from their mother and father.
He never did come.
Eventually his mother grew tired of punishing her son and left the room. Left him lying there on the ground in pain and terror, shaking as he tried to piece together what had just happened.
That was several hours ago. He had sat through the pitch black of night, silently whimpering, wanting to sleep but terrorized by his parents' faces every time he shut his eyes. Light had begun streaming through the curtains, and Kreature had set down a glass of water beside him.
He didn’t touch it. He didn’t dare move. They hadn’t told him he was allowed to yet.
---
Light streamed in from the window near the left of Regulus' head.
He’d barely moved since his father had slammed the door shut, leaving him inside.He was almost certain the door had been spelled shut. They loved to lock him away, show him just how little power he had, exactly how much say he had in anything he did.
He’d pressed himself hard up against the glass and curled inwards as tightly as he could, hoping that his father would leave him be, hoping that maybe, just maybe his father would decide to have mercy just this once. He wasn’t sure if mercy was what really drove his fathers choice to leave him be, but he wanted to believe it had been. As much as he hurt him, as much as mother hurt him, he just wanted them to love him. He wanted them to hold him and tell him stories and laugh with him like normal parents did with their kids.
Sirius had left him for Mrs and Mr Potter to get exactly that. Dorcas loved spending the holidays with her family, going on trips and enjoying each others company. Barty at least had his mother looking out for him. Evan and Pandora were most like him, their parents were cold and harsh, and he’d seen the bruises on their bodies a few times, but they had each other to get through it all.
Regulus had no one. Not anymore...
He didn’t understand what he was doing so wrong. He was the perfect son. He was the top of his year. He followed all the strict etiquette training to a fault. He wasn’t loud or disruptive, he didn’t make a fuss and he always, always did as he was told. He never let his emotions get the better of him.
In front of them you do, he chided himself.
He let out an exhausted sigh. Nothing he did was ever good enough. Part of him blamed Sirius for that. His constant disobedience made his parents even stricter on him, more demanding for perfection. Perfect grades were not enough, he should strive to take his OWLs early. He shouldn’t need telling what to do, he should know what they want already.
Was it ever going to get better for him?
No, the voice inside his head replied. And regulus knew it was probably true.
As the room around him got lighter, he watched as streaks of sunlight shone through his window, turning his white bed gold. He was surprised by how warm it was. It was mid January in London after all. By all rights it should be freezing cold and barley bright enough to read. He wanted to reach out and put his hand in the sunlight, bask in its warmth, and pretend that he hadn’t frozen inside.
But he didn’t. He didn’t deserve to feel that way. Not after everything. He was poison. A traitor. A backstabber. Nothing but a dirty liar who should be grateful for the air he was allowed to breath.
Maybe that's the real reason his father locked him in. That look of disgust. The pure shock and horror at seeing Regulus shrink before him had been so deeply etched on his face Regulus wasn’t sure he would ever get it out of his head. His father had probably given up. Embarrassed by his son's weakness, too prideful to even bother trying to punish someone like him anymore. He knew his parents liked him more because he fell into line, but that didn’t stop them from comparing the two.
It was a pretty common rhetoric, his mother would rant and rave about how horrible Sirius was and how grateful she had a son who followed tradition. But then she would double down that she wished her good son would grow the backbone his brother had, be stronger and face the world rather than cower at its feet. He was never enough and he knew that.
He wasn’t sure what time it was when he heard the knock at the front door. It was loud and assertive, but the door opened almost immediately after, the person apparently feeling entitled to walk in without waiting for permission.
Regulus stilled.
It couldn’t be... not him...
The dark lord was the only person who was allowed to do that.
He had visited many times over the years, particularly in the last few. The black family were well known supporters of his work and everyone knew the legacy that was Bellatrix. She was his right hand. Regulus had always been a little of his cousin. She was over a decade his senior and was basically like a second mother to him. The same kind of mother Walburga was.
She was cruelly tempered and had a vicious streak that had been what saw her rise through the death eater ranks so quickly. Narcissa said she was different as a child, but something had changed toward her final years of Hogwarts that saw her lean so heavily to the dark arts, she went mad. He wished he could have known that Bella, but by the time he was old enough to remember her properly, she was already marked and boasting about her mastery of the cruciatus.
Is that what was going to happen to him?
Yes, that voice inside him chided again. And Regulus knew it was likely true.
That was what the tipping point had been for Sirius. Freshly turned 16 and ready to be handed over to the dark lord, but he refused. Regulus knew that was the fate in store for him. He didn’t have a friend he could run away with, and Sirius hated him.
But surely not yet? He had only turned 13 in august? Were his parents so desperate to prove their loyalty they were already prepared to let their child be a slave for the dark lord?
Regulus shuddered at the thought. He wanted to believe they wouldn’t, but he knew that if the dark lord suggested it, they wouldn’t hesitate to mark a newborn baby. Still, Regulus was smart enough to know that the dark lord wouldn’t want him this young. He’d barely begun his education and though he had potential, he was far from skilled enough to fight in the war. He relaxed slightly, but not entirely. Not that ever really did.
He tried to listen for voices, but it was too muffled. His parents frequently cast silencing charms all around the house though so it wasn’t surprising the conversation was un-hearable.
Regulus let out a groan and lowered his knees to the floor, kicking his legs out in front of him. His joints were stiff from being curled up so long but he was relieved that the movement didn’t cause him any pain like it would have last night. That was strange, but he was hardly going to complain about feeling healed. He wasn’t ready to push himself to much harder yet though, so he simply tilted his head back against the mirror behind him and looked up the ceiling.
He was so tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but every time he blinked, the memory of his father standing in the doorway wormed its way into his mind and broke any ounce of peace he had managed. So instead, Regulus tried to remember how he had gotten to be here.
He went back to the last thing he remembered. A sunny day by the lake. Homework with Pandora and Evan. Transfiguration. Hardening charms. And then...
Oh that's it
They had started playing a game, levitating objects over edge of the lake and hardening them to see who could make the biggest splash when they released the charm. Pandora had been in the lead, followed by Regulus and then Evan. They’d dropped sticks, leaves, feathers, old parchment, all into the lake, making giant splashes.
But then it went all fuzzy. Someone had levitated something and... Regulus had gone after it? And someone else was there... it wasn’t Dorcas, she was stuck in the library, and Barty had been in detention for cursing a couple of Gryffindors who’d called Regulus a death eater that morning. Regulus was touched by his friends concern, but he also knew Barty well enough that he was always looking for an excuse to throw a curse.
What had it been...
The lake... the people... the water...
The hands...
Regulus' heart stopped. Cold slender hands, gripping and pulling at his body. Pulling him down, down into the dark coldness away from the light. Burning in his lungs. Choking. Dying. Regulus choked in a breath trying to remind himself to breath, that he was on land, he was surrounded by air. He paused, suddenly aware of the way his robes were resting across his ankles and wrists. He shivered at the way they were wrapped around him, the loose fabric twisted and doubled around.
It was true, he had never been a huge fan of physical contact. In his experiences only angry hands that got place on him, and those did nothing but hurt. Pandora was the exception, he loved her dearly and she had a way of making him feel like he mattered. That if he disappeared, it would matter because she would miss him.
They were not exactly instant friends. Regulus was shy and standoffish, a little cold and difficult to talk to, but Pandora? She was bright and joyful and did enough talking for the both of them. They'd shared a boat to the castle in their first year and Regulus had been fascinated by her. She exuded confidence and put passion into every word. It reminded him a little bit of Sirius, except where his confidence was loud, she was soft. He liked that. It was nice.
He'd been a little miffed they'd been sorted into different houses, but the Ravenclaw sought him out immediately after the feast and insisted they would be best friends. She'd been right.
Regulus had worried immensely about the prospect of making friends at Hogwarts. His sorting had been the source of his nightmares ever since the night his brother didn't get put into Slytherin. He had to be. No matter what, he had to be in Slytherin. He knew his brother wanted him in Gryffindor but Regulus knew there was no chance of that happening, even if he wasn't under the pressure to be in the traditionally house. He wasn't the right fit for that house.
The sorting hat had flirted with the idea of placing him in Ravenclaw, but ultimately it shouted 'SLYTHERIN' and with a mix of grief and relief he joined the table he was meant too. That was the first fracture in Regulus' relationship with Sirius. He had cornered him and demanded to know why Regulus didn't fight harder to be put somewhere else. Didn't Sirius know what their parents would to him if that had happened? Didn't he care? He wouldn't have survived to see second year if he wore any colour but green.
For the first time ever, Sirius had yelled. Regulus had been surprised, but he was in public and so, like the Slytherin he now was, Regulus schooled his features and kept a cold steady expression, walking away. That was when Pandora had found him, and though he'd been short and sharp, she didn't leave him until he'd let the very corners of his mouth lift up.
He'd been happy to learn he'd be sharing a dorm with her twin, Evan Rosier and he quickly learned Evan and the Crouch boy came as a package deal.
When Regulus joined the quidditch team in second year as seeker, he'd also made friends with Dorcas, a beater, who was in the same year as Sirius. They trained together almost every day and soon enough she started joining himself and Pandora for studying sessions.
He had never thought he'd get so lucky with the friends he'd made. Still, it wasn't perfect. They didn't know the true extent of his home life and he would never tell them. He didn't do feelings. No matter how hard Pandora tried. Though he laughed with them, smiled and shared the more cheerful side of himself he reserved for those he knew best, he never let down his mask. Never let them see the darker sides of himself. The weaker sides. The pathetic sides.
Regulus' stomach twisted at the thought of his last proper conversation with Pandora. Guilt gnawing at his insides.
He'd been getting bad since Christmas, really bad. He had always been bad and she'd always helped him but she was worried, more than she'd ever been before. Regulus had panicked and said things he regretted. Told her she was overreacting, to mind her own business and leave him be. That it was his life, it was his choice and he could do as he pleased.
He didn't deny the accusation, she'd become aware of his habits in their second year, not long after he started. But Regulus also knew she would never tell Pomfrey unless he got bad enough she couldn't trust him. She'd call his parents, and they both knew how that would go. He wasn't at that point though... not yet at least.
That didn't mean she didn't try everything she could to help him. He knew she was right. He knew, that she knew it too. But that didn't mean he was going to listen.
Instead he doubled down on turning it around on her. Channelling the temper his parents gave him. Throwing out what he'd spent years taking. What was worse was that she forgave him. Comforted him as he broke down in shame of what he'd done...
Regulus felt a tear trickle down the side of his face as the scene played out in his head. He was going to apologise next time he was her. He couldn't bear this guilt.
He let his gaze drop from the ceiling to trousers tangled around his ankles. He shivered again and kicked to reposition them.
Why was that bothering him so much? Touch bothered him. Established fact. But this much? The hands... the water...
Oh.
The next part of the memory...
Evan was losing, and ever the sore loser he was, decided to levitate one of Regulus' book over the lake. Threatening to drop it in. Normally he wouldn't have been too bothered by this, his parents let him buy all sorts of books and would happily replace it. Except, this was a muggle book he'd been given by Dorcas for Christmas that year. A picture of Dorian Gray. A book he most definitely could not ask his parents to replace.
So naturally, he hadn't been impressed with the Evan's trick. He wondered over to the water, hoping that Evan would release the spell and let him catch it, but Evan was never that easy. Instead he floated the book out further. Frustrated, he took a few steps into the ankle deep shallows, aiming to get under it and catch it when Evan released the charm.
"Oh..." Regulus said under his breath as finally, the rest of the memory came back.
He'd gone as far as he could without getting his robes too wet when he heard his name get called from the shore. He hadn't recognised the voice and to his surprise, when he turned he was met with the sight of the last people he wanted to see. Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, James Potter and Sirius.
He gritted his teeth and immediately turned away. But the voice called out again.
"oi Black," they repeated.
He didn't turn.
"Black come on," they said again.
He did not turn.
"Does the little death eater think he's too good for us?"
That got his attention. Sirius' voice. Regulus spun around to face Sirius and his pack of miscreants. He didn't know who said the other things, his gold was on Pettigrew or Lupin. Potter was as obnoxiously loud as his brother and it was impossible not to recognise his voice.
"I'm not one of them, Sirius" he shouted back, his gaze locking onto Sirius' eyes.
"You're exactly like the lot of them as far as I'm concerned"
His gaze was was hard and cold. His voice was tight but edged with cruel amusement.
"Come on Reg, show us your little mark," Sirius laughed.
The tall one, Lupin, seemed to sense something was about to happen and reached forward, gently resting his hand on Sirius shoulder and leaning in, a deep frown etched on his face.
"Come on Sirius," he said "he's your brothe-"
"He's no brother of mine."
The words were spat out like a reflex, cutting Lupin off before he could finish his sentence. Something in those words broke Regulus. The final fracture that shattered all hope in Regulus that his brother would ever care again. It hurt. Merlin it hurt so much. But he was in pubic. He was a Slytherin. He was a Black. So he didn't let it show.
Lupin leaned down and whispered something into his bro- Sirius' ear. Whatever he said, Sirius didn't seem to like it. He shrugged off the boys touch and muttered something Regulus couldn't hear. Lupin looked a little hurt but put up both hands in surrender and stepped back.
Regulus recognised the movement too late. He reached for his wand, but his brother already had his out, pointing straight at him.
There was a moment before it happened, where Sirius looked at him and Regulus looked back. All the years they'd spent growing up together going up in smoke.
Regulus didn't hear the incantation, didn't have a chance to defend himself before he was hanging in the air, upside down by his left ankle. Pandora had come to his defence, shouting at him to let her friend down. Sirius just laughed.
"Surely the perfect Black heir can figure it out himself"
He made sure to look at Pandora as he said it, eyes on her, like he wanted Regulus to know he was talking about him, but not to him.
Regulus had managed to keep hold of his wand, but he didn't know the counter jinx for this spell so he had no way of letting himself down. Instead he pointed it at Sirius, thinking that perhaps disarming his brother while he was looking away. This was the wrong move. The moment his wand was out and pointing in his direction, Potter shouted.
"Expelliarmus"
And Regulus' wand flew out of his hands.
"Don't you dare think about hurting my brother," he yelled with a sneer.
That hurt. He'd heard James call Sirius his brother before. He'd heard Sirius refer to James as his brother right back. But after everything that had happened over Christmas, this really struck Regulus harder than he thought it would.
"Well he's no brother of mine right? Why would I care?"
That seemed to rile Sirius up. He didn't speak, but his face glowed red and his features darkened. For a brief moment, Regulus was reminded of their father. They looked eerily similar with that cold, calculating look. For that brief moment, Regulus had felt himself go cold, just a little, as he thought back to the winter break only weeks before. But the smirk? That was all their mother.
Regulus saw his Sirius mouth move and then he moved. He plummeted down, down, down toward the water. The ice cold winter lake. With a great splash Regulus was plunged beneath the surface, immediately shocked by the temperature, soaked to the bone.
How had he gotten so far out? Why was he so deep?
He tried to reach for the surface as he sank lower, but his robes were heavy, he couldn't breath, he couldn't swim. Sirius knew he wasn't a strong swimmer. How could he do this? Did he really hate him this much? Did he want Regulus to die?
Regulus kicked as hard as he could. He flailed his arms about, but he couldn't fight against the water. He kept sinking. Deeper, deeper and deeper. Then, he felt it, hands gripping his wrists.
That's where the memory ended.
Regulus let out a deep sigh as he came back to the present, letting himself out of the memory. Perhaps that explained his fathers reaction last night. Had he been taken home to recover from the incident? It was odd, usually students would just stay a few days in the hospital wing before returning to classes. Definitely odd, but not unheard of. There were very few things that would cause Pomfrey to send a student home and-
The blood in Regulus' veins ran cold.
It couldn't be... They couldn't know...
If he'd been bad enough after... If she'd had to remove his clothes...
And he was in completely different ones that he didn't recognise, so clearly someone had changed him.
They knew.
Oh no. No. No.
"No!" he shouted, forgetting where he was. But then again, it wouldn't matter. His parents knew. Everyone probably knew. No wonder his father had looked at him like he were a disease. His son was nothing but a weak, poor excuse for life.
Regulus was pissed.
This was his thing. It was private. It was his choice. Why did everyone keep taking away all his choices? He was fine. He didn't need help. He didn't need anyone. He had himself and he was managing everything just fine. Why did adults always feel the need to interfere? He knew himself best. He knew his limits and he knew he was fine. This wasn't fair.
Life isn't fair, a voice in his head that sounded far too much like his mother reminded him.
Regulus' vision blurred as tears built up in his eyes. He wiped them away, dampening his sleeve.
At every point in his life, every decision and every choice had been controlled by everyone he knew. Whether it was his parents, his cousins, his teachers or his brother. They always stood above him and had the final say over his life. HIS life. This was his thing. His thing that he could control and have the final say over, and it was going to be taken away too. Worse. His parents were going to punish him for it. And he knew how it would go.
His mother will mock him. 'But isn't this what you want Regulus?' she'll say as she casts the lacero.
His father will put him down with insults. 'Filthy, weak, awful habit. What did I do to deserve two idiot sons?' he'll say as he casts the cruciatus.
Maybe they'd get creative with imperio.
I just want this all to be over.
He froze.
I didn't mean it.
Yes you did.
No I didn't.
Didn't you?
I...
Regulus wiped away at his cheeks again. Maybe Pandora was right. Maybe he was little worse than before.
His mothers cruel words bounced around in his head. His fathers lectures along with them.
No brother of mine. No brother of mine. No brother of mine.
His brothers voice was loudest of all.
He slumped against the mirror, until he hit the floor.
"Stop, please stop. Let me go."
Regulus curled up in the foetal position and brought his hands up over his head, blocking his ears like that would stop the voices in his head.
"Leave me alone, please. Make it stop."