narcissist
Regulus Black is not stranger to madness.
He is lucky, he supposes, when he tries to look on the bright side; he is his mother's son, and not his father's (not like Sirius), and he is safe from the madness.
He sees it in his father ("do not leave the house, Walburga you will stay with me, be grateful be grateful be grateful" and Regulus supposes that he is, in fact, grateful. Grateful that he will not be like him). His father is obsessed with his mother, with security, with rules and structure and order and obedience. At least it is not like Arcturus' madness. For that he is grateful.
He can see it lingering in his brothers eyes, waiting for something to latch onto, and Regulus tries to swallow back his fear. He prays it will not be him. He supposes that this makes him a bad person, a bad brother, a bad- well, just bad, really.
Regulus supposes a lot of things.
"A Black makes no mistakes," Orion murmurs, hand on his mother's thigh.
Later, Regulus questions her, and she looks down at him, severe and hard and loyal. "A Black may make no mistakes, but a Fawley does, mon trésor, a Fawley makes mistakes a a Fawley falls down and Fawleys are not infallible. They are, however, reconstructable, and they get back up and they always," she lifts his chin with her finger and looks at him, right at him, "loyal. You are a Fawley, you are my son and my blood and this madness is not yours. It does not reside in your heart. Watch, a and fall, and love, and hurt, and be better than I ever was, because a Fawley may not be perfect but a Fawley is a survivor."
Regulus adapts. Regulus rebuilds. Regulus survives.
Ad astra per aspera. Through adversity to the stars.
There are crows in the manor house, he notices, but not in Grimmuald. They hide in the shadowed corners and whisper of unknown things. If they tell him to hide, he hides. If they tell him to fight, he fights. If they tell him to listen, he listens.
His mother cannot see them. "They are not real, ma belle, not in the way you and I think of real. That is magic, that is the Black family magic, the madness. You can see it, you are of blood but you are untouched. The crows will not harm you."
The crows have yet to lead him astray.
They aren't really things you can see. They are just there, a metaphor, a reflection in smoke, a possibility. They aren't really crows at all.
That, however, does not make them any less real.
There are two others, that Regulus knows of, that are like him; Black, untouched by the crows. Andromeda and Alphard. Even Narcissta did not escape. They have learnt to fear the crows, to trust the crows, to remember the crows. In they end, he supposes, crows are just crows and memory is just memory.
He should be glad, he supposes, tone a Grimmuald, without those crows, where he cannot see them as it is not their ancestral home. Suppose, suppose, suppose. He is sick of the word suppose.
And he is not glad, because the crows claws are killing Sirius' mind, and his brother hits peak at age eleven; unsurprising, with the magic influx. Kreacher hides him from his brother in a way nobody should ever have to hide from their blood. The elf hides him from his obsession, from his madness, and Regulus pretends to be sick rather than see him off.
He is sick, he supposes (as always, he never knows, can he please just know?), sick with worry and fear and horror because it will be a person Sirius claims, and he would wish that upon nobody.
When his brother returns home, for Regulus is at the station this time, he sees it. He sees the madness. It's there in the hatred for the Slytherin with the too long hair. It's there for the Potter with his too nice smile. It's there for the blonde boy with the too tired eyes.
But Regulus sees the obsession when Sirius looks at the boys with the scars, and swallows, hard.
This is where he tips. This is a beginning, and end, a choice. "Take the wixen world by a storm and set them on fire, Regulus Arcturus Black," the Sorting Hat will one day murmur.
Regulus Black sees the obsession and vows his loyalty, thus changing many things.
The first is his House placement.
The second is his influence.
The third is his survival.
Two months later, the edge comes closer to him (save those affected by the madness, save the boy with the scars, establish a base, make connections, change it. Change and save and survive and love and hurt and live), closer and closer and closer still, and then, on the day of his chance, he wakes up.