Prologue
Regulus Black was six years old the first time he’d seen his parents fight. He’d seen them bicker back and forth but that had always ended with one of them leaving the room before it got heated, or ended with a compromise and a kiss on the cheek. He’d seen both his mother and father fight with his older brother - Sirius, and he’d seen them fight with other family members; his aunts and uncles, his grandparents (before they’d passed away), and even his older cousin Andromeda. But he’d never seen them fight with each other.
The first time had been over dinner; all four of them were sitting in the dining room, a cold silence draped over the room. Sirius, who was typically someone who wouldn’t tolerate silence, picked at his food, a great big scowl across his face. Mother and him had a bit of a row before dinner, father intervened and pulled Sirius aside - whispering something to him which made his face turn as white as a sheet. Regulus was watching quietly from an armchair, hidden behind a book he was pretending to be infatuated with.
Mother was quite ticked at both Sirius and his father after that. She had a very particular view on how punishment should be dealt and handled in their house, and her husband had altered that consistency.
Somehow the topic of work was brought up, and Regulus zoned out - at such a young age he’d found listening to that conversation was boring and pointless - he pushed his cut up steak around his plate, mimicking how his brother so carefully avoided being dragged into the conversation.
Suddenly the table shook beneath his hands and his neck snapped straight up. His father looked as he did whenever their Uncle Cygnus would bring up how his job was ‘more important’ and how they were the ‘better half of the family’. There were always curses thrown when that came up.
“It is your duty to raise these boys correctly, Walburga. Not mine.” His voice was low and menacing. But Regulus was more afraid of his mother, she had this look in her eyes. The look she had every time she’d get mad at Sirius, or her friends, a look of pure anger, someone who was going to get her revenge on whatever you were about to say.
“Mother,” Sirius said quietly. The room got very quiet again as both of their parents' heads turned to the other side of the table where the boys sat. Sirius nodded slightly to Regulus, who could feel his heart thumping quickly in his throat.
“He’s quite old enough to be introduced to the real world Sirius,” she hissed. “He’s not a child.”
And Sirius just nodded, slowly taking his brother’s hand tightly under the table. Offering a bit of comfort to the younger boy as he watched their parents yell, and though he didn’t understand why quite yet he knew well enough it had everything to do with him and Sirius.
…
Regulus Black was ten years old when he realized why his parents fought constantly. His brother had just gone off to Hogwarts that day, and they were practically screaming at one another down the hall.
Regulus tried to bury his head under his pillows and hide himself away in a cave of blankets, but he could still hear every word that they said.
He wanted to scream back, tell them to shut up, that if they hated one another that much then they should separate, that they shouldn’t subject their sons to such a hateful life at home. He was just about to pack up and go upstairs to Sirius’ room - which was farther away from his parents’ room - when he heard something that made him want to throw up.
“Orion, he's a Gryffindor! He’s ruined everything I’ve worked for him to be!”
Sirius was a Gryffindor…
His brother had broken the 200 year Black family legacy, he’d gone against the single thing that had been drilled into their heads since before they could understand; you will be sorted into Slytherin when you go to Hogwarts.
Regulus couldn’t breath for a solid minute while he processed what he’d just overheard. Not only was his brother well on the way to being disowned, he was inevitably going to begin to hate his family. Including Regulus.
The rest of the argument from his parents faded into background noise as Regulus got lost in his thoughts.
What would happen to his brother?
Would he be allowed to associate himself with the only person who had his best interest at heart? Or would they have to shun him like they’d been forced to do with Andromeda a few years ago?
What would happen to Regulus?
His thoughts reeled for hours, terror and anger twisted his stomach into a knot and his head hurt from crying. He thought of going to his mother and simply asking for the answers to his questions, she was always very honest with him after all. But then he’d remember how red and puffy his eyes must look from crying, and he’d think of how she’d respond; “Don’t cry Regulus. It’s not proper for a boy your age to show such emotion.”
Then he thought of writing to Narcissa, his older cousin had always been kind to the younger boy. But eventually decided against it as she was at school, probably dealing with the aftermath of the ‘Sirius Situation’ on her own end.
In the end he’d just lay in bed, lost in his own thoughts. He thought back to every time his parents fought with one another, or with Sirius, or with him. And In the end he found one common denominator: Sirius and himself.
Right then and there Regulus vowed to be a son that his parents wouldn’t fight about.
…
Regulus Black was thirteen when he realized his parents hated Sirius. It was the summer before his third year at Hogwarts and his brilliant brother had the wonderful idea to stick Gryffindor posters on his walls, of course using a permanent sticking charm.
Regulus secretly found it bloody hilarious, and one of the more clever things he’d done over the last two years to tick off their parents. Their mother however did not find it as amusing, she’d gone on a tangent, screaming at Sirius and making sure he knew what a disgrace he was to their family.
Regulus was once again hiding behind a large hardcover book, nestled up into his favorite armchair in the library as the scene took place in front of him. There were a few curses thrown at his older brother before their father arrived home, and it took every ounce of control in Regulus’ body to keep from jumping up to help him. But surviving in this family was a game, and over the years he’d gotten to be very very good at it, he couldn’t very well quit now.
When Orion got home from the ministry, and Walburga showed him what their son had done the house turned into a war zone. Sirius protested, insisting that he couldn’t take the posters down even if he wanted to (which he didn’t). And the adults took turns telling him - and occasionally the other - how it was his fault the family was falling apart. Walburga tried to drag Regulus into the loop a few times, and each time he’d say a few words that neither supported nor denied his parents or Sirius, then go back to quietly reading and listening.
By the time dinner rolled around Sirius was limping on his right leg and had a temporary silencing charm placed on him, Orion had blamed his wife for how Sirius turned out, and Walburga looked as though she was going to murder Sirius. Regulus kept his head down, but even then he could feel Sirius’ eyes burning holes into the back of his head, he was angry at his little brother. Angry for not defending him. Angry for being perfect. He’d talk to him tonight once their parents had cooled off a bit and gone to bed.
The truth was Sirius had every right to hate Regulus. But he didn’t. The brothers would bicker about nearly everything, but in the end they’d always look out for one another. They would always love each other.
Dinner crawled by, and by 11:45 pm - once their parents had retired to fighting in their bedroom - Regulus had barely enough energy to crawl out of bed to his brother’s room. But he pushed open the door and found Sirius sitting at his desk, writing a letter to who Regulus assumed could only be James Potter (Sirius’ best friend).
‘Hey.’
Sirius looked up, then back down at his letter, glaring as he continued to write in silence.
‘Sirius come on,’ Regulus touched his brother's arm gently, but Sirius flinched away immediately. It took another minute to realize that he’d never seen his mother lift the silencing curse. He muttered the counter-curse under his breath, gripping his wand tightly. ‘Better?’
Sirius nodded, ‘year thanks.’ He didn’t go back to writing, just looked down at the parchment. ‘Why are you here Reg? I thought you were Mommy’s little boy.’
‘Sirius,’ Regulus sighed, slightly hurt by his brother’s accusation. ‘I’m just trying to help, okay? It’s not like you make this easy for yourself, the posters were stupid and you know it.’
‘If you’re here to judge me then just bugger off,’ the older boy snapped. ‘I’ve gotten plenty of judgment already.’
Regulus didn’t move from his spot over Sirius’ shoulder. ‘I’m not trying to judge you, I’m on your side.’ He remained calm, being snippy only made things worse.
‘You weren’t on my side earlier,’ Sirius countered.
‘I wasn’t on their side either,’ Regulus pointed out.
‘Oh yeah congrats, not supporting the abusive assholes we have to call parents. Want a gold fucking medal.’
‘I don’t know why I bother if you’re going to be such a prick.’ Regulus turned to leave.
‘Yeah. Leave the blood-traitor, not your blood, not your problem!’
‘I never called you that!’ Regulus was taken back.
‘They did.’
The room got very quiet for a minute, Regulus stared at Sirius for a minute, and for the first time in a very long time he wanted to scream at his parents. He’d never imagined his parents being so angry at Sirius, and knowing what they’d done, the line they’d crossed made his blood boil.
Sirius hated their parents, and it was getting close to the point where they hated Sirius as well. The only issue is Regulus had no clue where he stood in that mix.
…
Regulus Black was fifteen when his older brother left home. He was fifteen when he was left behind, like an unpleasant memory, and it was then he vowed to never love someone or something again. The pain of being left behind wasn’t worth it.
…
Regulus Black was sixteen when he fell in love.