You were awoken by the sound of a soft tapping on your window, the sound loud in the cavernous silence of the night. “Go away” you groaned, sleep still filling your head, the sound interrupting the peace of your dreams. But the tapping persisted, growing louder as it became more frantic. You sighed, pressing your palms to your eyelids heavily as you tried to remove the sleepiness. You swung your legs from the bed and turned towards the window pulling the latch open to let a large tawny owl swoop into the room. At the sight of the bird your blood ran cold, any lingering traces of sleep being snatched away from you.
You knew this owl, after all he’d been delivering you letters for close to 6 years now but never in all of those years had he ever delivered anything but quality sealed envelopes or notes on folded thick parchment. Tonight however the owl held out his leg to present you with a scrap of dirty torn paper. You untied the note, fingers fumbling to undo the shaky knot. As soon as it was freed from the message the owl took off without waiting for a response, dark wings clipping the clouds as he soared away into the night.
You took a deep breath as you unfolded the paper, dread had started to curdle in the pit of your stomach. You knew something had to be wrong the minute you’d seen the note tied sloppily to the owl’s leg and it was confirmed to you when you saw your name scrawled across it in a hurried splash of ink. Regulus always took pride in his letters, it was something you teased him about. To you, they felt dramatic. Even the simplest of notes such as “Meet me at the library” were written on the thickest parchment in handwriting that was a perfect cursive. Regulus never blotted his ink, he never scrawled his notes, his letters were works of art so the minute you saw the rushed scribble of your name you knew something was very very wrong.
You unfolded the paper with bated breath eyes quickly scanning the two words written there. “Treehouse, R.A.B” it read. You leapt off the bed throwing your thick dressing gown over your pyjamas and sliding your feet into your worn out shoes. Picking up your wand you whispered a near silent ‘lumos’ then tucked it under your arm using the thin veiled light it provided to guide you in the darkness. It was easy to slip out of your bedroom window onto the side of the roof and down to the ground, you’d done it plenty of times before but it was harder today with how anxious you were. You weren’t sure what you were about to find but you had an idea and it wasn’t pretty.
The garden was quiet, too quiet. It amplified the dread you felt, you could hear the soft crunch of your shoes on the grass and the distant hoot of an owl hunting for prey. The old treehouse was at the very far end of your large garden. It had been there for years, since even before your family had lived there. Until you were eleven the treehouse had been a lonely place, you’d filled it with blankets, dolls and strings of muggle fairy lights but it had always felt empty with only you inside it.
Then you’d gone to Hogwarts and met Regulus. It was like the two of you completed something within the other, he understood you like no one else ever could and you understood him. Your friendship had begun all those years ago in your very first transfiguration lesson but it had grown in the treehouse. Suddenly it was no longer your treehouse, it was yours and his. Every summer, every Christmas, every time you were away from school he’d make excuses about his whereabouts to his parents and sneak out and you’d spend all day in the treehouse. It was a haven, a world away from the world. A place where darkness never touched.
As you approached it now you couldn’t help but think that the treehouse looked lonely once again. Shadowed by the larger willow beside it, lit only by the thinnest sliver of the moon in the starless sky. You patted the gnarled trunk, running your fingers up it in the darkness as you climbed searching for the carving in the wood. Your fingers snagged on it and you closed your eyes briefly tracing the words messily drove into the oak. “Toujours” it read, the french for forever. A testament you’d carved into the wood way back when you were only fourteen. A promise, even then, that you’d be there for each other always.
“Regulus?” you called out softly as you pushed open the door and entered the little room. The sight you were greeted with nearly broke your heart in two. Regulus was sitting with his back against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest and his face in his hands, fingers clutching fistfuls of black curls. The image was such a contrast to the way you normally saw him. You were used to bright smiles and vivacious laughter - the kind that made your stomach ache. You used to complain that he took up too much space in the small area. He’d lay sprawled out across the floor on the little rug, long limbs tangled and stretched out. Yet today you wished he was monopolising the space like he normally did. You’d never seen him look so small, so vulnerable. “Reg?” you called out again and this time he looked up noticing your presence for the first time. His silver grey eyes caught in the dim light of the fairy lights and unlike the way you’d normally see them glowing with mirth they were shining with the ghost of unshed tears.
“Y-Y/N” he croaked out his voice hoarse and strained “I didn’t know where else to go.”
You moved soundlessly across the room until you were sitting beside him and he looked back down into his lap picking at his nails anxiously. You took his hand in yours, running your thumb across the back of his palm and drawing small circles with your index finger in an attempt to calm him. “What happened?” you said quietly.
He was silent for a long moment, watching you play with his hand with glassy unfocused eyes, lost to a swirl of raw and painful memories. “I had to leave” he began, his voice no more than a whisper “it - it happened y/n they wanted me to - to get the dark mark.”
You flinched, eyes involuntarily darting to his left arm covered by the dark fabric of his shirt. “They invited Bella round, she told me she wanted to take me to see him - the dark lord.”
He paused and you squeezed his hand, gently encouraging him to continue. “She said it was an honour to be considered by him to join his cause.”
You were at a loss for words, you’d both known that this was coming eventually. You’d spoken about it many times over the past year but you’d naively thought that you’d have more time to figure out a plan - a way for him to refuse. “But you’re still in school” you whispered in abject horror. Regulus gulped, still not able to meet your intense gaze. “I know,” he said softly, “I know. That’s what I said. I tried to argue that I should finish school first but mother said that school wasn’t as important. She said the school was full of - of mudbloods, half breeds, general filth and scum and I was better off out of it.”
You let out a sharp intake of breath, Walburga Black’s venom never ceased to clear the air from your lungs. You were sure you’d never met a more hateful woman in your life. You didn’t know this but Regulus thanked the stars every night that you’d sat next to him in that fateful transfiguration lesson because if the truth was to be told he was terrified that he’d have believed everything she said if it weren’t for you. He might have been named after a constellation but to him you were the star. The one burning light in the darkness of his life because you understood him more than anyone ever had.
“What did you do Reg?” you asked, the question hung heavily in the air, the underlying meaning clear to the both of you. You were asking if he’d yielded, if he’d taken the dark mark. Soundlessly and as if in slow motion he reached out and rolled up his left sleeve revealing the soft expanse of pale unblemished skin.
You exhaled the breath you’d been holding in only for it to catch sharply in your throat again when you saw the litter of cuts circling his right wrist. You caught his hand in yours, horror filling your eyes as you gently traced the scars. “Bellatrix” Regulus said, seeing the question in your eyes. “She - she used cruciatus on you?” you asked he nodded, closing his eyes and without meaning to you squeezed his wrist. “Jesus.”
He was silent for a long moment until you said “You’re not going back.” his head snapped up silver eyes burning into yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before. “I have to” he said but you shook your head furiously. “You’re not.”
“She’ll blast me off the tapestry, she’ll disown me, il be like Sirius il have nothing and -”
You cut him off cupping his face in yours to force him to look at you “You’ll have me, Regulus. You’ll always have me.”
He put his own hands over yours, gripping them tightly “promise?” he said so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.
“I promise” you whispered back “toujour remember? We’re there for each other forever.”
Suddenly he’d surged forwards and gathered you in his arms holding you in a tight hug. He buried his face into your hair breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo and just held you. “Forever” he said, pouring his gratitude into the hug. It surprised you, he generally wasn’t a physically affectionate person and would grumble when you’d hug him but now he was holding onto you like you were a lifeline, an anchor to the world.
When you finally pulled away your faces were closer than ever before and he pressed his forehead to yours as you reached out to wipe away the fallen tears from his cheeks.
“I’m scared” he said, lacing his fingers with yours “I know I need to leave my family, I know they’re not good but they’re all I’ve ever known. I don’t know what to do without them.”
You were silent for a moment as you mulled over how to present the idea that had formed in your head. “You don’t have to lose all of your family,” you said quietly.
He looked at you in confusion, furrowing his brow “what do you mean -”
“Sirius” you said and he stared at you blankly in shock for a second before shaking his head “No, no y/n absolutely not.”
“Why not?” you pleaded with him “Just reach out to him, what could it hurt?”
“Everything! Because he won’t want to speak to me y/n and I can’t handle that.”
“Why wouldn’t he speak to you? You don’t know unless you try Reg.”
“You know why,” he said, turning to look out of the small window to avoid your gaze. You sighed softly. It had been 3 years since Sirius and Regulus had spoken last, 3 years since a then 16 year old Sirius had fled Grimmauld place to the Potters and left 14 year old Regulus behind. When they’d got back to school after that summer Sirius had approached Regulus and begged him to leave too but Regulus had refused. He was young and he was hurt that his brother had abandoned him for James Potter. He hated to think that Sirius had replaced him, and found a new brother he liked better. Regulus had said some horrible things to Sirius that night, things he didn’t mean out of jealousy and upset. You knew he regretted them all these years later but you also knew that Sirius wouldn’t hesitate to help his little brother if he found out he was fighting against becoming a death eater.
“Just talk to him” you said firmly “if you don’t you’ll regret it for the rest of your life and you know it.”
Regulus’ shoulders slumped in defeat “okay” he said tiredly “okay but - will you - will you come with me - please?”
You smiled at him brushing a black curl away from his eyes “of course.”
When Regulus had first arrived at the treehouse he’d been deep in the pits of despair. He’d felt as though he had no options left as though his life was decided for him. He was terrified to go back to Grimmauld and be forced to get the dark mark. But now as the sun began to slowly rise in the sky and dusk turned the sky a hazy shade of pink Regulus felt hope. He felt hope blossom in him whenever your eyes met. He knew it would be okay because he had you.
“Here” you said, passing over one of the chipped tin mugs you kept in the treehouse to him. He took it from you gratefully letting the sweet fizzy taste of the muggle drink Irn Bru that you’d poured into it explode on his tongue. “Sorry about the drink choice” you said “it was all I had up here.”
“It’s perfect” Regulus said, savouring another sip, and it really was. It reminded him of the summers where you’d lie in the baking tree house sipping fizzy irn bru and eating ice lollies. It reminded him of you, of joy in darkness, of light.
“It’s gonna be okay you know” you said, moving to sit beside him with your own tin mug and Regulus smiled for the first time that night as he reached out to pull you towards him, resting your head on his chest. “I know it will be,” he said, stroking your soft hair, “because I’ve got you.”