Written for Aldira.
For the first time in his life, Regulus was not jealous of his brother. If Regulus was his brother, then Harry Potter would be his godson. If Harry Potter was his godson, then Regulus would not be able to look at him the way he did.
Though of course, Regulus couldn't do much right now.
Regulus had woken up after he died in his old room. For year's, he had lived in some sort of half-state, watching life go on for everyone around him, but not his. He couldn't take a step out of Grimmauld Place, couldn't speak to a single living thing and no one ever appeared as a ghost for Regulus to talk to.
He supposed he was half-mad by now.
He didn't care.
Regulus just imagined a life, a real life, with Harry. It was all he could do, forever it seemed.