"You never told me he went to Azkaban!" Regulus yelled as he tried to get out of Barty's grip, his anger building up in him. "You told me nothing about them! I needed to see what was left and it was -- there is nothing left." That wasn't Sirius. It wasn't his brother, not really. Sirius who smiled, who played jokes and teased him. And when he looked sad, he always looked like a kicked puppy.

He didn't look like that. Defeated. Dead inside. It hurt to see. "Get off me."