Chapter 1
No matter what people believed, Regulus Arcturus Black knew he was a good person, a good person raised bad. Nothing bad that he’d ever done had been of choice. How could a child know that self-sacrifice was the only correct choice, how could anyone expect a child to know there could be another path than the one set out for him by forces bigger and scarier than he. When a child is raised in a burning building, they spend the rest of their lives expecting the smell of ash.
No, Regulus Black was not bad.
****
When Regulus was a child, he had dreamt of escaping. Every time he did, the only way he could picture his freedom was with his older brother at his side.
Sirius Orion Black, so unique a character that Regulus never met another anywhere near his likeness. The family traits of course ran stark in his image, short waved midnight hair and eyes the colour of the sky on the perfect summers day.
They could have been twins had it not been for their year’s age gap, and those piercing blue eyes. He’d always been jealous of Sirius’ eyes, so much joy, so much beauty rested in them. His, on the other hand, reflected the depth on a puddle in comparison to the ocean in his brothers. His eyes were a pale grey, they were hooded and the smile lines that could have once hugged his temples were nowhere to be seen. In short, Regulus Black was a simple blank canvas while his brother was a wash of watercolour.
In comparison to both boys, another contender in the mix was James Fleamont Potter. If Sirius was a rainbow, then James was the sun, he was a day at the beach without a sunburn. He was the adrenaline rush of flying and the natural beauty of a forest completely untouched by man.
James Fleamont Potter was the love of Regulus Arcturus Black’s life, and in another universe, somewhere there would be a world where they fell in love. Where they loved and died together having lived a life of joy.
In this world however, Regulus only had the pleasure of knowing James for a year. Of course he knew about him for longer than that, James was Sirius’ best friend so of course he knew everything there was to know about the boy, from his favourite Berties Jellybean to his undying patience for those he loves. Its hard not to love someone when you are fed a story of great heroism by a boy who before his eleventh year had only known the broken love of his younger brother.
And for the year before he met him, for the year that he was slowly being replaced, he tried not to hate this older boy who stole his brothers attention away from him and showed him a life he could never provide. For that year, he held his breath and prayed that Sirius would pick him, and all the while tried his best to be glad for his older brother that he had someone so amazing, even if that someone no longer seemed to be him.
This desperate hope lasted him from the ages of ten to eleven, when he could finally join Hogwarts and be away from his parents and close to his brother who would hopefully start to once again give him the time of day now that they were away from home and closer together. That did not happen.
****
Regulus Arcturus Black took his first official step onto the famed Platform nine and three quarters, though his parents shadows still loomed overhead and his mothers hand gripped the back of his neck so harshly he could feel the blood dripping down his back beneath his collar, he breathed the fullest breath he felt he’d ever taken.
Beside and slightly to front of him stood his illustrious older brother, loved by all those that met him, withholding their parents of course. Sirius had a walk that suggested passion and confidence, like the very act of glancing in his direction was a great honour on the eyes of the beholder, and for the most part people treated him as such.
As they walked along the platform, children who stood with their smiling parents waved excitedly at his brother whom responded in kind. Once they got to the edge of the platform he just kept walking as if expecting the family to follow. Everyone knew of course, that was the exact opposite of what he wanted. No goodbyes, no tears shed.
The hand of his mother still gripped him aggressively. His traitorous heart stuttered in muted fear, he was so close to having the freedom that his brother had and all he could do is stand stock still until his mother released her wretched grip on his throat.
‘I trust you will not disappoint us the way your brother has Regulus. We have expectations, make sure you recall the consequences of not meeting them.’ His mothers words were followed along by a sharp tug to his neck, ripping the tears already created there.
His father said nothing to him, eyes not even acknowledging his existence. The only indication that he was a living creature and not a statue came from a sharp 180 degree turn towards the exit and with a last squeeze that left him choking down air from his mother they left.
He was free, and suddenly terrified.
He had never been alone before, not once. Being suddenly free was both thrilling and utterly disconcerting. What was he supposed to do now?
With a deep breath Regulus boarded the ancient train.
As his eyes adjusted to the dimmed hallway, in that brief period of darkness before he could see again, he wished that when light returned to his vision he would find his older brother standing there leaning against the wall waiting for him.
Instead what happened was when the shadows passed from his vision, Regulus found himself staring up at two figures. One was clearly and gracefully his brother, a breath escaped from his lungs in a sharp spurt. He had not been forgotten.
‘You really think I’d leave you alone Reggie?’. A soft smirk resting on his brothers face, the kindest his cruel features could manage. He had not yet learned how to sand his harsh lines down to a gentle lilt.
The Black brothers did not look nice, they were good-looking of course and as the years passed both would break many a heart who looked too long and fell into their ethereal beauty, but they didn’t look nice. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline, pale eyes and dark hair, they were the kids a mother would worry their child was being bullied by. They had sharp, painful looking features, the kind of faces that without effort looked cruel. A curse for Sirius who spent his life working to combat their genetics with an increasingly soft smile.
It was a curse for Regulus too, for that year. After that it became a blessing.
Finally, Regulus’ eyes shifted to the other boy leaning with his arm around his brother’s shoulder with an easy kind of intimacy. He was smiling down to him kindly.
This boy looked nice. Like a calm wave washing against the shore, warm and inviting and nothing at all like the power that he possessed would ever be used to harm. His tanned skin and dark untamed mop of curls contrasting brilliantly with his light eyes, crinkled as if he had spent his short life laughing. Unlike Sirius, this boys eyes were innocently alight as if he’d never experienced the cruelty of the world, not a shadow in sight. Unlike Regulus, this boys eyes held depth, emotions free to float in the sea of green, hypnotising and comforting alike.
In a moment Regulus knew who this boy was. He was his brothers knight in shining armour, saving him from the witch that was his mother, freeing him from the confounding cage of his fathers apathetic disgust.
This was James Fleamont Potter.
Totally unassuming of what was going through young Regulus’ head, his mind swirling in shock. For a child who had never been shown even a teaspoon of affection besides his brothers broken version of love, Regulus could not identify the shock of tension that lit up his spine in the first moments that his and James’ eyes met. He could not fathom the feeling of aw at the beauty in front of him, haphazardly carded curls and gold circular spectacles.
Years later, Regulus Black would identify this moment as the minute he began to believe there could be more to life, that there was beauty in this world, there was good.
It was also the moment he started the most painful fall of his life. When he took a step back and dropped into a pit, a lightless void where he continued to fall for the rest of his life, no hope for escape in sight. It was the moment that he believed he started to fall in love with James Potter.
“James. James Potter.” The nearly twelve year old James thrust his free hand out towards a frankly terrified young Regulus, the confident smile resting on his joyful face.
Only Regulus knew the significance of this moment. James wanted him to like him, his best friends only loved one. Sirius stared on with reserved anxiety, not yet having learned that his emotions were allowed to exist, his chosen family and his only kid brother. It was arguably the most important interaction Sirius had been privy to in his short life and he was terrified.
Yet only Regulus knew the significance.
If he shook his hand, it would mean that he approved of the friendship that stole his brother away from him, the only person he’d ever been allowed to call his own. If he didn’t, it would break Sirius’ heart, it would mean that the only person Sirius had ever chosen was once again not enough for someone who should care about his happiness. Either way, the Black brothers would never be the same again, Regulus knew this at eleven, Sirius would eventually learn this a decade too late.
Slowly, Regulus reached out and grasped the older boys hand, heart silently cracking. He felt the zing of Potter’s magic slowly wrap around his hand and wondered if the older boy felt the same. If he had, no one would know, his face stayed perfectly and blissfully blank, joy wrapped around his features like they had found their perfect place and never planned to leave.
The contact lasted so short a time that it could barely be classed as a handshake, but it was enough.
Both older boys satisfied, they led quiet Regulus to their chosen compartment where he met two other boys. Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin.
He didn’t ever introduce himself, they knew who he was. To them that was the same thing. It wasn’t.
He shook two more pairs of hands and didn’t utter a word throughout the train journey, not even to his brother. He watched on as the boys laughed and chattered and argued and acted like the young teenagers they were, all the while wondering if they knew the bubble they’d created that separated them from the rest of the world felt like trying to wade through led to get to the inside.
Safe to say, Regulus never sat with them again. A train ride from hell and all the while all the young boy could think was he was so glad that Sirius had them. The journey enlightened him on one other thing, Regulus hated them all, the same way one hates a bee after it’s stung you. He sat silently furthest from the window, closest to the door across from his brother who’d had the same childhood as he had and so sat as close to an exit as possible. And so he watched and he hated and he loved and grieved and saw his heart break with a bitter smile.
What a tragedy the Black brothers were. They would sacrifice every inch of themselves for one another, no matter the pain or heartbreak, but put them in front of each other and they could no longer look each other in the eye. Maybe it was because Sirius looked like their father and Regulus had their mothers eyes. Maybe it was because when they looked at each other all they saw was the burning house, the flames in their eyes matching the scorches scored on their hearts.
Maybe that’s why the brothers were so drawn to the boy with infinite smiles, they were fascinated by his love that felt like a salve. James Potter was the sun, they were stuck in his orbit. The closer you were, the warmer you felt, and for children who had been raised in the cold and damp, James felt like healing, he felt like freedom.
Sirius was healed by his friends, his chosen family. Regulus watched on, desperately trying to be a pain relief potion when he was smoke and ash. A breathing reminder of his brothers pain that he desperately tried to forget.
As they stepped off the train, Regulus watched his brother, his protector, walk slightly ahead, his friends at his side. For the first time Regulus saw his brother look truly content, happy even and he knew Sirius Black had never looked so at peace in his life.
Not at home. Not with him.
He stopped walking, his brother didn’t notice. The space between them grew until Regulus found himself boarding a boat with the other first years and Sirius was a step away from the horseless carriage. Sirius turned then, looking around for his shadow only to find him on a boat floating away, eyes facing away from the sights, already looking at him. Their eyes met for a brief moment and then Regulus turned away from him without a spare blink in his direction.
It was the first of many times Regulus turned away from Sirius, he never learnt why it started. He never learnt how to fix it.
The Black brothers would never be the same again.
****
Regulus Arcturus Black became an only child at the age of twelve, on that same day James Fleamont Potter gained his first brother.
He loved his big brother in the way one cant help but just love your childhood protector and the first person to show you love. He also hated him for leaving, he understood of course but understanding never changed anything.
James Fleamont Potter was the love of his life. He hated more than he knew he could.
This was the catch of loving Regulus. His heart was charred, and his love was vicious and cruel. He tried his best to never love anyone, it was safer for everyone that way.
Sirius would stay and bask in the sun and Regulus would sit like his namesake, alone and in the dark. What could be more poetic for the brothers of Black named after the stars in the sky?