"I hope he hasn't beaten any of mine. If my picture isn't still the trophy case, Dumbledore will be getting some strongly written anonymous letters." Regulus was sure someone had beaten his records and achievements because of course, it was bound to happen but he felt like that was the only real legacy he had. Good at quidditch, bad at being a death eater.
He came over to the articles on the wall and looked at the headlines, remembering how his mother would smile when he asked to take the paper so he could put it up. He would have done anything to make her proud but she never was. Wasn't proud, didn't love him.
Ripping the articles off the wall felt good. He grabbed them in his fist and yanked them off, leaving marks on the wall as the dried paint cracked off with the tape. It felt so good. He balled them up in his hands and turned to Sirius, his eyes had tears in them but he didn't want to admit to that. "You got a godson? You're like a proper adult now and everything."
"Sixteen years ago. More or less." Sirius saw Regulus' tears and something stirred inside him. That was his little brother. Somehow, impossibly, it was his little brother. Back in this house, back in his room, and he was crying. Something broke inside him then too and even if he didn't cry, he pushed away from the doorway and walked into the room, walked up to his brother.
He pulled him into his arms, cupping the back of his head as he held him close. "It's all right, Reg."
His little brother, so eager to please his parents. Ripping off these articles. "'m proud of you."
Regulus swallowed hard as he forced his emotions as far down as he could, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. It was just all so much. Everyone had aged and moved on, life was pushing forward and everyone he knew had that same look in their eyes. Misery, pain, hurt. Even Sirius. When he pictured his brother, he saw a stupid smile that grated his nerves, not the misery he was drowning in now. He gripped the balled up papers harder now, trembling with anger and sadness.
"It's not all right. Nothing is all right. Does anything look all right to you? The world is cruel and terrible. Nothing is right here!"
"I reckon the world's always been cruel and terrible. You are just finally catching up." Sirius was smiling a little now, because, hey. Bitter humour fit him well these days. "Come on, Reg. I've got fire whiskey in my room."
Plenty of reason why his room was his favourite, but the whiskey, at the moment, definitely not least of all. "The war isn't over, but you are probably right. It's never going to be all right for us. Best I'm hoping for is making it all right for the people that come after us."
"What a load of rot. Who cares about the idiots who come after us?" Regulus tossed the paper onto the floor and sniffed, trying to hide his wet eyes by swiftly rubbing at them like he was annoyed instead. "That Gryffindor selflessness gets tedious after a while. It's smart to think of yourself sometimes."
Because clearly he hadn't been doing that lately. He looked at Sirius for a moment and the smiled faintly as he tried to think of what to say. "Sirius..."
He swallowed. He wanted to say 'I love you and I missed you' but he was a Black. It didn't happen. "...I really wish you'd gotten a haircut."
"My hair is my crowning glory," Sirius stated, running a hand through it. Or trying to, his fingers got a little tangled. All right, maybe it could stand a wash and some combing, but he couldn't bring himself to really give a damn. "You weren't thinking of yourself when you died either, Reg. What's that, some Gryffindor tendencies?"
Of course he had to tease him. He was still himself, however much he might have lost.
"You don't know that. For all you know, I did it all for myself. And I did. For the record, I'm as slytherin as they come." How dare he accuse him of being brave and noble? That bastard! Regulus lightly shoved his brother away and rolled his eyes, heading out of his room. "Come on, get me drunk. I only ever had a taste of whiskey once."
He was eighteen for about a month before he died so he hadn't had much chance to drink. "Besides, this place has always been depressing, maybe it's easier to be in with some booze."
"Most things are easier with booze. Until the hangover hits you, anyway." Sirius shrugged and opened the door to his own room, letting Regulus in. Radically different decoration than Regulus there, between Gryffindor banners and muggle chicks on bikes, but personally he still much preferred it. Certain juvenile charm, he'd say. He grabbed the bottle from the floor and handed it to Regulus.
"I'll try not to." He took the drink and sat down on Sirius' bed, sipping some of it and then he paused, his eyes widened a little and he choked it down, trying to pretend like he didn't mind it but dear God, it was like drinking paint thinner. What was wrong with Sirius?! Blargh. Pulling a face, he gave Sirius a look.
"Is this... a prank? That was bloody revolting." He held the bottle back out to him.
"Nah. You pranked yourself by never getting used to it." To prove his point, Sirius put the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, drinking a bit more eagerly than he probably should have. Then he set the bottle back down and shrugged. "You get used to it."
Maybe that was it. He had started to no longer be used to not having it, which was a different problem. "I made a promise, I'm only allowed to empty one of these bottles. So you better be happy that I'm willing to share."
"Yeah, I can see why. You should drink less." He felt like he had to point that out after watching him chug that whiskey down. What the hell was going on with his brother?
"So... go on then, tell me what happened?"
They couldn't keep dancing around it. He knew something bad had happened and it was pretty damn well obvious. As much as he was afraid to know, he was curious. "Where are your mates?" Probably the easiest place to start.
Was it the easiest place to start? Sirius didn't know. But then, he didn't know if anything was really easy and truthfully, he didn't know how Regulus would take any of it. He certainly knew how much Regulus resented James. Blood-traitor who stole his brother and married a mudblood. But then, Regulus had just ripped those articles from his wall. So what did Sirius know?
Sometimes, things changed. Not always for the worst. "Remus is out with Nymphadora Tonks right now. You know, Andromeda's girl. The Metamorphmagus. They are working against him, of course." Still not that easy to say the name, but if Harry did it, he could to. "Against Voldemort. Ugly snake bastard."
One friend, two to go. Whatever. "They are getting along." Which was something that weighed on his mind. He doubted Regulus cared.
"Cool. Good to know he's trying to shack up with her." That was not the kind of deets that he was interested in. He wanted to know why Sirius looked like he'd been tortured and James wasn't here to piss him off. It was just odd, is all.
"I can't help but notice that's all presence tense." Not a great sign. "Where's Potter, then?" Well, if he wanted to know, he supposed he just had to straight up ask. "Would have thought you'd be married by now."
"James married Lily Evans." Hadn't that happened before Regulus died? Around the same time, actually. They had only just been eighteen, but such were the times. War. One never knew what would happen next. "They have a son. Harry. He's my godson, the Gryffindor seeker."
And Sirius did smile as he thought about Harry. Maybe Harry symbolised hope for all wizardkind in Britain, but to him... To him he was everything. Nothing mattered the way Harry did. He just wished he could be more by now. "There was a prophecy that your side got their hands on. Meant that they wanted Harry dead."
And they still did. Sirius considered how much whiskey he had left. Not enough. Definitely not enough. "Halloween 1982. That's when Lily and James were murdered by Voldemort."
"... I'm sorry." He didn't know why that shook him so much, he thought hearing that James died would make him smile or feel elated but he knew how painful this had to be for Sirius. He could see it in his face, in his actions - hell, was this the reason? He didn't even know what to say and for ages, he just sat there and looked down at his hands, awkwardly trying to think of what he should say.
"It's not my side. I was trying to ... to go back. I wanted to stop him."
He knew Sirius couldn't have known, how could he? But he felt now more than ever, he had to further himself from Voldemort. "I failed, obviously. I'm sorry. I tried."
"...I know." Sirius sighed, letting his head hang back until his hair brushed the floor. Then he moved to the side, putting an arm around Regulus. It felt weird, but it also felt as if it was a thing he should be doing. Comfort didn't come easy to him these days, from any position, but he was trying. "Don't worry. A lot of failure happened in the war. I doubt yours would even make a top 100. I'd be closer up there."
"I didn't realise that what they were telling me was wrong until I actually started to live by what I was saying. I couldn't follow a man like that. He hurt Kreacher." And Regulus had no one growing up but his elf. Sure, Sirius was there at the start but then he wasn't. He had deep affection and love for his elf, to see him in such a sorry state after an outing with the dark lord? It was too much.
The arm around him was heavy but comforting. Not that he'd admit it. It felt odd to have contact, he would never get used to it. "What mistakes could you have made? You were always perfect." Frustratingly so.
Sirius had to snort at that. "Oh, come on. That's the stupidest thing you've ever said." He shook his head and pulled his legs up so he could lean forward and rest his chin on his knees. Made it easier to look Regulus' way without really looking at him. "I've made plenty of mistakes. But my biggest mistake was thinking I was smarter than I was."
He had been so very clever. "I told James and Lily to make Peter secretkeeper. I reckoned they'd all think it was me. Go after me. I could handle it, right? Anything to keep them safe."
"Peter? Ah. Yes. The dunderhead who tags along with you lot." He never quite got that friendship, he also assumed pity was pretty central there. He was always trying to look like James and Sirius - as if he could be as handsome. "What happened? Did the dummy forget?" He just felt like that was the most logical conclusion.
Sirius' horrifyingly dangerous plan aside, it really was hard to think what he had done wrong. He could think of a million ways Peter fucked up.
"Peter gave them up to Voldemort. Seems like he was already in the inner circle by that point. I just hadn't seen it. I couldn't even imagine it, Merlin... I underestimated him until the end." Sirius shook his head, the events flashing by his eyes. He had seen it all too late. "After their murder, after I'd found Harry in what was left of the house, I went after Peter. Hunted him down. He exploded part of a street. Twelve muggles dead. And he got away."
Sirius laughed, because he couldn't help it. Whenever he got to that point, it was all he could do. "They caught me, sentenced me. Didn't get a trial. Everyone thought I was secret keeper."
"Sentenced you... to go to -- you went there, didn't you?" God, it was like Barty all over again. Why did everyone he loved just decide to go to fucking Azkaban as soon as he died? Regulus put his head in his heads, furious and frustrated but trying to keep it all school in so it came out more as resentment and annoyance. Peter Pettigrew.
He was alive, he was with the dark lord and Regulus was going to have his head. He would discuss it with Barty first chance he got. He didn't even want to think about the suffering Sirius must have been through. "Explains why you look so shattered."
"Hey, you twat! I've been told I look great." Given everything, anyway. Harry had asked him if he'd dyed his hair, even. But then, he was just 'old' to Harry. Looked less 'old' than Remus. Or Snape, for that matter, and wasn't that at least some good fucking Karma. "I escaped Azkaban about three years ago. I was trying to hunt down Peter, but he escaped me again. And here we are now."
He shrugged. "At least I got Harry a Firebolt. Most beautiful broom I've ever seen, you heard of it yet?"
"No. Not heard a lot. This is the first time I've been out since I came back. Not been back for a while, honestly." He didn't know how long because there wasn't a way to keep track of time properly and all. He wrapped his arms around himself and made a mental note to look up the firebolt. He wanted to go shopping and look at the new brooms, to go to a game or a tavern but he knew it couldn't happen.
"I can hardly walk the streets. He'd kill me, wouldn't he?" Just his luck. He shrugged a little and looked away. "Just wanted to come and check in on this place, you know? See if it was still standing." And check to make sure his big bro was okay.
"I can't be seen either. That's why I'm locked up here." And wasn't that just brilliant? "I'm so sick of being locked up. I wasn't made for it, I don't think. Painful death, that seems more up my alley, but here I am. Completely bloody useless." Sirius scoffed, then looked at Regulus. "Just wait it out. Or... Fight with us. Harry, he's got this prophecy Voldemort believes in. That he will be the one to defeat him. I don't know about that, but I know he's all I have. I'll keep him safe. I'll fight for him."
Sirius was erratic and, frankly, he scared him. He didn't know what it was but it was the familiar taking on this edge that left him feeling so sickly and unsure. That wasn't his brother. He had all the wildness that Barty had. The face of a man who'd seen and suffered far too much.
"I can't stay. There's someone I need to be with." He couldn't abandon Barty, not after everything. "I've probably caused enough worry coming." Still, at least now he knew. Though part of him wished he didn't. "I don't think I could do much good anyway. Last time I tried, I died."
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He came over to the articles on the wall and looked at the headlines, remembering how his mother would smile when he asked to take the paper so he could put it up. He would have done anything to make her proud but she never was. Wasn't proud, didn't love him.
Ripping the articles off the wall felt good. He grabbed them in his fist and yanked them off, leaving marks on the wall as the dried paint cracked off with the tape. It felt so good. He balled them up in his hands and turned to Sirius, his eyes had tears in them but he didn't want to admit to that. "You got a godson? You're like a proper adult now and everything."
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He pulled him into his arms, cupping the back of his head as he held him close. "It's all right, Reg."
His little brother, so eager to please his parents. Ripping off these articles. "'m proud of you."
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Regulus swallowed hard as he forced his emotions as far down as he could, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. It was just all so much. Everyone had aged and moved on, life was pushing forward and everyone he knew had that same look in their eyes. Misery, pain, hurt. Even Sirius. When he pictured his brother, he saw a stupid smile that grated his nerves, not the misery he was drowning in now. He gripped the balled up papers harder now, trembling with anger and sadness.
"It's not all right. Nothing is all right. Does anything look all right to you? The world is cruel and terrible. Nothing is right here!"
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Plenty of reason why his room was his favourite, but the whiskey, at the moment, definitely not least of all. "The war isn't over, but you are probably right. It's never going to be all right for us. Best I'm hoping for is making it all right for the people that come after us."
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Because clearly he hadn't been doing that lately. He looked at Sirius for a moment and the smiled faintly as he tried to think of what to say. "Sirius..."
He swallowed. He wanted to say 'I love you and I missed you' but he was a Black. It didn't happen. "...I really wish you'd gotten a haircut."
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Of course he had to tease him. He was still himself, however much he might have lost.
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He was eighteen for about a month before he died so he hadn't had much chance to drink. "Besides, this place has always been depressing, maybe it's easier to be in with some booze."
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"Don't choke on it." Seemed like good advice.
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"Is this... a prank? That was bloody revolting." He held the bottle back out to him.
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Maybe that was it. He had started to no longer be used to not having it, which was a different problem. "I made a promise, I'm only allowed to empty one of these bottles. So you better be happy that I'm willing to share."
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"So... go on then, tell me what happened?"
They couldn't keep dancing around it. He knew something bad had happened and it was pretty damn well obvious. As much as he was afraid to know, he was curious. "Where are your mates?" Probably the easiest place to start.
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Sometimes, things changed. Not always for the worst. "Remus is out with Nymphadora Tonks right now. You know, Andromeda's girl. The Metamorphmagus. They are working against him, of course." Still not that easy to say the name, but if Harry did it, he could to. "Against Voldemort. Ugly snake bastard."
One friend, two to go. Whatever. "They are getting along." Which was something that weighed on his mind. He doubted Regulus cared.
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"I can't help but notice that's all presence tense." Not a great sign. "Where's Potter, then?" Well, if he wanted to know, he supposed he just had to straight up ask. "Would have thought you'd be married by now."
Just saying,
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And Sirius did smile as he thought about Harry. Maybe Harry symbolised hope for all wizardkind in Britain, but to him... To him he was everything. Nothing mattered the way Harry did. He just wished he could be more by now. "There was a prophecy that your side got their hands on. Meant that they wanted Harry dead."
And they still did. Sirius considered how much whiskey he had left. Not enough. Definitely not enough. "Halloween 1982. That's when Lily and James were murdered by Voldemort."
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"It's not my side. I was trying to ... to go back. I wanted to stop him."
He knew Sirius couldn't have known, how could he? But he felt now more than ever, he had to further himself from Voldemort. "I failed, obviously. I'm sorry. I tried."
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And wasn't that a great honour.
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The arm around him was heavy but comforting. Not that he'd admit it. It felt odd to have contact, he would never get used to it. "What mistakes could you have made? You were always perfect." Frustratingly so.
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He had been so very clever. "I told James and Lily to make Peter secretkeeper. I reckoned they'd all think it was me. Go after me. I could handle it, right? Anything to keep them safe."
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Sirius' horrifyingly dangerous plan aside, it really was hard to think what he had done wrong. He could think of a million ways Peter fucked up.
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Sirius laughed, because he couldn't help it. Whenever he got to that point, it was all he could do. "They caught me, sentenced me. Didn't get a trial. Everyone thought I was secret keeper."
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He was alive, he was with the dark lord and Regulus was going to have his head. He would discuss it with Barty first chance he got. He didn't even want to think about the suffering Sirius must have been through. "Explains why you look so shattered."
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He shrugged. "At least I got Harry a Firebolt. Most beautiful broom I've ever seen, you heard of it yet?"
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"I can hardly walk the streets. He'd kill me, wouldn't he?" Just his luck. He shrugged a little and looked away. "Just wanted to come and check in on this place, you know? See if it was still standing." And check to make sure his big bro was okay.
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"I can't stay. There's someone I need to be with." He couldn't abandon Barty, not after everything. "I've probably caused enough worry coming." Still, at least now he knew. Though part of him wished he didn't. "I don't think I could do much good anyway. Last time I tried, I died."
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