A/N: Hello all that happen to come across my fanfic!
Just to let you all know, this is my first time ever posting some of my stories on here, so criticism and praise are welcomed and enjoyed. Oh, and this awesome story rightfully belongs to J.K Rowling. Not me. (:
I had come down this route before, many times, always when the morning sun was descending on Hogwarts and nobody was awake yet. I would slip through the door, asking the nurse what had happened before taking my rightful place next to the seat in the Hospital Wing. The nurse and I had been through these secretive mornings more than once, in fact, more than I'd like. It was when her unlucky patient came in at least once a year that I would sneak in, beg her not to tell him, and she would take an early break. Sometimes she would secretively sneak us both in some pie that the house elves left for later.
But today was one of those days where I couldn't stay long. I shouldn't even be here. The full moon from the night before had just managed to hide behind the morning sun, yet instead of doing something more productive with my life I decided to take refuge in the Hospital Wing next to my older brother, watching him take struggled breaths beneath the bed sheets.
This was my routine. I would come in surreptitiously in the early morning and perch myself in the proper spot above his bed. Today was one of those miraculous, fresh days where his room just happened to be empty. Sometimes it was cluttered with gift baskets, and flowers, and candy, and love letters from some stranger in Hufflepuff. Some days I would even come in to find Potter sleeping in the chair beside him with his hand outstretched and his feet routed lightly to the floor. I would always leave then. The nurse would ask me if I wanted to stay, but I didn't want to. I shouldn't even be here now.
But now, as I watched alone in the Wing, I saw my brother occasionally furrow his eyebrows and mutter nonsense like, "Prongs, butterbeer," or chuckle a little in his sleep before he would wince in pain and grow silent yet again.
"He should be fine," the nurse said, watching my face look crestfallen as his talking dispersed. I had slipped in rather swiftly without a word yet she felt my presence this early in the morning, anyway. I mean, it was only natural I be here since I've been coming since about first year when he first slipped off his broom and nearly had a concussion. "He looks more banged up then he really is," she comforted.
I could only smile, my smile a mixture of relief and tease. Of course, he would get hurt this badly practically over night. A large gash pierced his face from his forehead to the end of his cheek as if he had been scratched by something with long nails. His chest was bandaged up pretty tight, although I didn't see any blood.
"What happened to him, anyway?" was all I could muster looking dauntingly at the gash on his face. He was probably out of bed after midnight having some sort of fun like he always did, and would serve himself detentions after he was done in the Hospital Wing. I wouldn't be surprised. He was 'Sirius Black' after all, and his detention record was ten pages long.
"That Potter boy carried him yesterday night. He had to wake me up it was so late," the nurse embellished buttoning up her small pink cardigan. "He said he got hurt pretty badly from falling in the woods in the middle of the night, but I don't see how he could have fallen that badly, naked like he was,"
I nearly fell on the floor. Naked? He was naked?
I had always seen Sirius through my dormitory window going about in the middle of the night. I had watched him until he eventually faded away in the darkness. I had always assumed that he was just causing trouble or having fun with his stupid friends. Sure, it was suspicious, but I didn't tell anyone, I shouldn't even care. But now, I literally vomited on the floor as I began to think of Potter carrying him in into the Wing naked. What could he possibly be doing?
I didn't say anything to the nurse though, as she got her satchel and readied her things. She knew just as much as anyone, probably even more, that we were brothers. Occasionally, as I sat in, watching him sleep she would go off about how much he looked like me, but eventually she would shut up for she knew as well as everyone else that we were the Black brothers, and something fishy was up with them. Practically all of Hogwarts knew. 'Sirius Black never talked to Blacks,' in fact, he was only really a Black because his last name said so. If it wasn't for that, he might as well be a Potter, or any other pureblood Gryffindor family. So it was days like these, in the quietness of the early morning castle that the nurse left me..left us, alone and finally together after quite some time.
"I hope you don't mind if I go out, lad," she spoke. "He shouldn't need much, and I should be back before you know it,"
I shrugged her off. I was used to this routine, like a dance. She was too, and as she moved towards the door she stopped knowing exactly that I was going to ask something else before she leave.
"He won't wake, will he?"
"He shouldn't. He had a rough night last night," and with that, she was off.
I'll say. But I didn't say that remark back to the nurse as I thought consequently of my older brother's escapades the night before.
It was silent. It was always silent. I could hear the heavy breathing of Sirius' snores, along with a sleepy grunt about passing the pumpkin juice, and then silence. It was like the late night sleepovers in the attic that we used to through as kids all over again, although this time it was Sirius talking in his sleep, and I actually witnessed it.
Looking over him, I couldn't help but notice how messy Sirius looked. His hair was always unruly, which was probably a result of him not bothering to brush it in the mornings, yet as a kid it was always groomed and shaped up to the best thing it could ever be. It still wasn't much; in fact it was so bad that mother often cut it way too short, which would just embarrass Sirius, and make him the bane of Bella's teasing for months until it grew back.
Yet, despite how messy he was, I could still see the regal ness he gave off, even as he slept. I now understood why Sirius was loved by everyone. He was so appealing. Messy and easy going, yet he was still handsome. Beneath the rebellion and the grime I saw a carbon copy of my father, and a perfect version of me.
I sat on the chair beside his bed, his heavy breathing now a rhythm. It was that sick, messy face that kept me coming back, I guessed. I should hate him, in fact, I do hate him. I just suppose the news of him landing in the Hospital Wing again just made me secretly have to see his pain. I was always here when he was hurt, stopping by even though I knew how much trouble and humiliation I could get into if anyone dared find out. I also risked the chance of seeing Potter.
Potter's face irked me. I guess you can say I don't particularly care for Potter that much. In fact, I actually loathe him. The way he prances around the hallways like he's all that when honestly he's nothing.
And, I hate him even more considering he's the one that ruined everything.
In fact, I'd rather it be that Lupin kid I find every time sitting on the chair next to Sirius. I don't like any of them, but he's the one that actually has a brain. I've talked to him once, even if it was just a word or two. I'd asked him if Sirius was okay a month after he left that September. It was stupid, and pathetic, but he simply nodded a hearty yes, and before he could say anything else I walked off.
But it wasn't that Lupin kid I saw every time I came or every time I walked through the hallways on my way to class. It was Potter.
I got up, staring out the window as the sun crept higher and higher until it reached the top of Hogwarts' highest tower.
"Screw, Slughorn," Sirius breathed in his sleep groggily. I looked down at him to see if he would awake but then let out a small chuckle. Here I was, laughing with him.
Yet, as I looked down at him, I began to see the same temperament as it were father gazing disapprovingly at some trouble a house elf had caused.
Who compares Sirius to father? Wasn't Sirius the one telling me how horrible he was when I told stories of how admirable father was? Wasn't he the one telling me that everything my father said was a lie?
But, gazing down at my pain stricken, stupid brother, I began to see him more and more. Maybe, that was from the mere fact that I hadn't taken this good look at Sirius in nearly two years. Maybe it was because the way his cheekbones were crafted perfectly beneath his skin was simply uncanny to how my father's was. Maybe it was because Sirius was everything he was supposed to be, except all wrong. And, I couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if there was no wrong, and everything was right.
The sun now peaked out through the Whomping Willow and I could hear the noises of other students in the hallways. I waited still, looking over at the scratch that outlined his face.
I remember dozing off, the sound of Sirius' groggily whispers and snores the only thing holding me back to reality. The door then opened, but I still looked out the window. I should leave. Breakfast is going to start and I'm going to be late. I should really leave.
I heard the other breath in the room, but I assumed it was the nurse, our game of secrets played so frequently that I remembered the technique like the back of my hand. But this breath, it was fresher and sharper.
I turned, rubbing my crest fallen eyes in the process. It was Potter, the proud jerk, stopping awkwardly before the bed. He glared, his glare then becoming swallowed with idiotic confusion. I glared.
"Oh, uh, sorry, was I interrupting something?" he asked, but I merely moved letting him have the seat next to Sirius, along with everything else.
"No I was just about to leave anyway," I retorted less snotty than I actually intended. I could never be sour like I wanted. It was always so easy for everyone, even Sirius. But I couldn't. I wanted to add that he was an arrogant slimy git, but all I could think about was the door in front of me and leaving.
The silence in which it took me to get to the exit was drawn out and awkward, almost as if my curt, blunt movements made everything worse.
"Regulus," he called out. My name sounded like some foreign language coming from his mouth. I knew he thought it too, because he stopped and waited for me to gaze back at him. And, it was then that he came to the realization that Sirius and I were actually brothers. I felt it. The face behind the name was finally granted and he saw me. I had always seen him, but he finally saw me, Regulus, the kid brother of his best mate.
"Do you want me to tell him that you were here?" he finally finished. I could tell this was the first ounce of compassion he'd shown a Black other than Sirius, before, and I heard it in his voice. "That you, um, saw him?"
I almost scoffed. I've been here always. I've seen him always. Everything was just all wrong. Wrong enough for the picture around me to be crooked and for me to not want to believe that he was really my brother. Wrong enough for me to want to hate him, yet sit beside him at the same time. Wrong enough, that it could never be right.
I looked back at Potter, my softened face now turning rock solid.
"No," I started remembering back to all the days that I had taken my rightful place beside Sirius. "It doesn't really matter anymore,"
And with that, I left.