As Regulus stared into the mirror, into his reflection, he saw Sirius. He was just like Sirius. He was just a clone of Sirius, but less handsome, less brave, less loved. Even though Sirius had left home earlier in the year, even though Sirius hadn't really been part of the family for ages, Regulus still wasn't the favorite. He was like the prince, afraid to step unto the king's throne. He never meant those things he said to Sirius. He never meant for Sirius to hate him.
He just wanted to be Regulus. He didn't want to be the smaller, less important version of a first born son. All those horrible things he said, he still wondered if Sirius knew he never meant them. His hand was closed in a fist at his side as he glared at his reflection. He sighed and lowered his eyes from the glaring Regulus in front of him. The sickening twinkle of shattering glass was the best sound to Regulus' ears just then. But he can hear a taunting voice in his head, "What'd I ever do to you Reg?"
He peered down at the eerily glowing green potion, eyes set on the shimmering gold locket. His reflection stared back at him, lips drawn in a grim line. He lifted his goblet into the potion for the first sip of his poison, and realized that there's something different in his face. He saw more Sirius in his face. There was a twinkle in his eyes, one that had never been there before.
It took him until his dying breath, however hysterical he was from the potion, after Kreacher had taken the locket, until he realized what it was. "Bravery," He whispered.
A single thought occupied his mind as he was pulled under by Inferi. 'I hope Sirius will forgive me.'
The last sound he heard was Kreacher's sobbing and a loud pop.
If only Regulus could have seen Sirius reaction to his death. Maybe then, maybe if he had known before how things would have played out, maybe he wouldn't have felt so cheated. Maybe he would have been Regulus, and thought a bit better of himself. Maybe he would have never turned to getting approval from the dark lord. Maybe he would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have just been the always overlooked child.
There had always been one too many maybes.
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