Sirius stayed in the doorway watching Regulus, still trying to process this. And, oh, it was a lot to process. He barely ever looked into this room, because like most rooms in this house, barring his own, it made him feel miserable. He hated being here, he had always hated being here. He wondered how Regulus felt about it. Truthfully, he realised, probably not that much different. Neither of them had gotten to experience much happiness here.

His happiness had been in school and, later, with the Potters. All of that was long gone and it had faded, it was astonishing how well the misery managed to cling by comparison.

He looked at the picture Regulus was inspecting. "My godson's seeker. For Gryffindor. He's beaten some records."