So as I was sitting in the library for hours on end attempting to do research for my senior thesis, this idea popped into my head. Clearly it was more interesting than 18th century cavalry so I decided to write it out. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my procrastination!
Disclaimer: Anything/one that you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. I am merely a borrower.
Disappointment was a strange emotion.
Regulus pondered this as he took another bitter sip.
It was a stark contrast to everything the Black family stood for and yet it was so intertwined with their blood that not a day went by when the family did not experience it.
Everyone always claimed that Sirius was the disappointment of the family. He rejected the laws of the family set in stone and so firmly believed by their parents that they resorted to incest in order to remain pure. Regulus wondered how much this had played in to the fanatic gleam always present in his mother's eye, one that Sirius had inherited though he would deny inheriting anything from the Black family. Sirius made sure that nothing was left unsaid as far as the Black family's questionable breeding habits went. Regulus never needed to say such things about his parents.
Regulus had always resented Sirius for this. His confrontational behavior, that is, not his views. There had been several occasions where Regulus had his doubts about some of his family's practices as well. However, he could never voice such opinions. He knew his parents – and his family in general – could not take another renegade Black boy. All Sirius noticed was that when his mother screamed at him during their arguments her voice was hoarse the next day. He chalked it up to her raving like a mad woman. Regulus, whose bedroom shared a wall with his parents', knew this was not the case. He heard her cry herself hoarse well into the night. Sirius did not realize that their father's nightcaps doubled on those nights. One rebellious son had severely damaged the Black family, another would ruin them.
Instead Regulus kept silent and worked to bring peace to the family by appeasing his parents and filling in the void Sirius had left.
Regulus chuckled at the thought now. He saw Kreacher glance back anxiously at him, almost hesitating, though he could never actually defy Regulus by staying. Sure enough, with an agonized cry and a pop Kreacher was gone. He would head back to 12 Grimmauld Place, a household that was doomed.
Peace had never been a possibility in 12 Grimmauld Place. Not when it housed a family that contained so many opposing but extremely strong wills. Sirius never forgave him for becoming their "darling mother's pet." Regulus ignored his brother's taunts. In truth, Regulus was a bit disappointed in Sirius. He had left him for Hogwarts in the worst possible position. It was hard enough being the only child in a home with overbearing neglectful parents. After Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and started voicing his opinion against their family, things became much more difficult for Regulus. His parents, understandably, feared Regulus would follow his brother's path.
They spent hours every day lecturing Regulus about the importance of upholding the Black family name. Confused and alone, as Sirius often forgot to write, Regulus did the only thing a ten year-old boy could do: he complied. By the second month after Sirius' departure Regulus would have done anything to appease his over-bearing and somewhat maniacal parents. His parents saw Regulus' acceptance and praised him for it. Sirius saw it as a betrayal.
Regulus swallowed the last few drops and dropped the steaming mug to the ground. The potion was meant to make one relive his worst moments in life, torture the victim within his own mind. Of course, Regulus supposed he did enough of that on his own. He did not need a potion to replay his own thoughts of guilt and disappointment.
And he was disappointed with himself. It mirrored Sirius' own disappointment in him. Although Sirius had never spoke of it, Regulus saw the occasional flashes of it in Sirius' eyes. Like the day Sirius had first come home for Christmas break to see Regulus acting the part of the perfect pureblood son, or worse the day Regulus had been sorted into Slytherin.
In fact, Regulus could not think of a night he hated more than that of the 1st of September 1972. Regulus had been relieved. His parents would no longer be disappointed; the Black family name would be restored. Then he ran into Sirius while searching for the kitchens Bellatrix had told him about. Sirius stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Regulus, making his group of friends collide behind him.
"So you decided to play by their rules, did you?" Sirius' voice was oddly hollow for a twelve year-old boy. Then again part of being a Black was growing up far before your time.
"I'm a Black. I know my duty." Regulus repeated the words his mother had ingrained in his head. Immediately he wished he had not said them. The words had dashed the hope in Sirius' eyes, hope Regulus had not noticed was there until he saw it fade. It was then Regulus realized that Sirius had not given up on him, or at least not until that point.
"'s too bad. I thought you had a bit more fight in you than that." Sirius turned away from his brother, disappointment evident on his face.
Regulus had wished to call after him. He wanted to tell his brother that it wasn't too late, not to give up on him. He took a step forward. Then, a black haired boy who looked vaguely familiar – Regulus later learned he was a Potter – spoke.
"Are you sure you want to do this, mate?" the boy hesitantly asked. "I mean, he's your brother."
Sirius had let out a hollow laugh, one that haunted Regulus for years to come. "No mate, you're my brother. He's a Black."
Regulus stopped walking at that point. He realized then that Sirius was not the only one disappointed in his brother. Regulus resented Sirius for giving up on him before he even had the chance.
That was the last time Regulus really tried to communicate with his brother for quite some time. But he did not stop thinking of his courageous brother. Often after he heard reports from older acquaintances, who joined the Death Eaters upon graduating, or when he received a particularly disconcerting letter from his cousin Bellatrix, Regulus would think of his brother. He would wonder what would have happened had he followed Sirius his first night at Hogwarts.
But Regulus had not done that. He usually was able to justify it to himself. After all, he was a Black. Sirius was a rebel and one headed for a great deal of trouble at that. Regulus was the one who had done his duty, made his parents proud. In any case, he was in much too far to quit now. Not even Regulus' position as the seeker on the house team would prevent his fellow Slytherins, many of whom would become Death Eaters, from tearing him to pieces if he betrayed them. Fear kept Regulus in line. Fear of his family. Fear of his Slytherin housemates. Fear that even if he did change sides his brother would still not accept him.
Regulus was no fool. He knew he was weak. He was everything Sirius had accused him of being. He shared Sirius' disappointment. It did not matter how aware Regulus was of this though. It did not change the facts; Regulus' fear kept him in line.
That was until the summer before fifth year, the summer Sirius left for good. Before Sirius had slammed the door and his mother had broken out into screams Sirius had cast a glance in Regulus' direction. In it, Regulus saw pure hatred.
Regulus underwent a revelation at that point. For several years, Sirius had harped his family about hating the mudbloods without a just cause. Yet here was Sirius doing the same thing. Except he was directing his hatred towards his own brother. Regulus had never had a fair chance. Sirius cared more for classless people he had never met than his own brother who had climbed into his bed during stormy nights and had assisted him in pranking their older cousins. If that was how the other side was then Regulus wanted nothing to do with it. At least the Dark Lord respected some sort of loyalty.
From then on Regulus had ceased acting the part of the perfect pureblood son and became what his family had wanted all along. His gaze hardened and clippings of the Dark Lord and his followers' attacks replaced the quidditch posters on his walls. His cousin Bellatrix noticed this change. Her letters became more frequent during Regulus' sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. Upon his arrival at King's Cross in June of 1979, Bellatrix was waiting for him. She handed him a key – a portkey. Regulus was inducted into the Death Eaters that very night.
Regulus sank to his knees. His body seemed too heavy for his legs alone to support. The sand felt strangely tingly beneath his hands.
It was Regulus' third mission that had shocked him out of the stupor Sirius' departure had condemned him to. Regulus had known the McKinnon family. Not well, as his family refused to let him consort with such blood traitors. However, he had seen them every year at various ministry functions. Perhaps if he had faced a wizard capable of defending himself, like Gavin McKinnon, things would have turned out differently. However, Regulus was new and not trusted with such important wizards. Karkaroff was the one that finished off Gavin McKinnon. Instead Regulus had been assigned a simpler, yet infinitely more difficult task. He was to kill the McKinnon daughters. Kayleigh and Paige McKinnon were still years away from receiving their Hogwarts letters. That night Regulus had assured that they would never get to see the legendary school.
Things became more difficult after that. Regulus believed that Bellatrix's extensive lessons in occlumency were the only things that kept him alive during the next few months. However, the Dark Lord must have noticed Regulus' hesitation. He was no longer involved in the big raids. Instead, he was assigned the simpler and perhaps more demeaning tasks. Bellatrix was disappointed, but Regulus did not mind. He did not need any more children haunting his dreams.
Then two days ago Regulus felt his forearm burn. He was surprised when he discovered he was the only one the Dark Lord had summoned. The Dark Lord asked for Kreacher. Regulus was not fool enough to question why the Dark Lord needed a house elf.
After two days Regulus had still not heard from Kreacher and had begun to worry. Kreacher was possibly the only member of his family – for he did consider Kreacher family, much to his mother's disgust – who genuinely cared for Regulus as a person and not as a pawn in the Black legacy. He summoned Kreacher and was shocked to find his loyal companion half-dead. Rage consumed Regulus as Kreacher told his story.
No one was allowed to dispose of Regulus' family so carelessly and get away with it. Regulus had lost his family to the insane pureblood propaganda the Dark Lord had encouraged, he similarly lost Sirius who rejected anything to do with the Black legacy including his own brother, he had almost lost Kreacher who had only wished to please Regulus. It was then Regulus decided that Lord Voldemort would not tear apart any more families. Not when Regulus knew a way to stop him. This time Lord Voldemort would be the one to lose a part of his soul.
Regulus supposed he would disappoint many people with his final – he had ceased to shudder at the severity of the word – decision. His parents would certainly be disappointed at his quiet slip from the world. As the only heir to the Black family, his death would ensure the demise of the once-great family.
Bellatrix would be disappointed that he had gone the same way as his brother, yet another sibling who did not embrace his true potential. Narcissa would certainly be disappointed, though she would mask it well. Fear of her new husband would silence her.
Lord Voldemort would be disappointed, though not with him – Regulus did not flatter himself to think he was any more than a replaceable pawn to Lord Voldemort. No, Lord Voldemort would be disappointed with Bellatrix who had ensured Lord Voldemort that Regulus would become an ideal Death Eater – yet another reason for Bellatrix to curse his memory.
His Slytherin friends, Regulus would have laughed had his face not been paralyzed by the potion at this point. The potion's aftertaste was nearly as bitter as his own thoughts. The companions he referred to as friends would only be disappointed that they had associated with him, regretful of the impact it would have on them in pureblood society.
That only left one person: Sirius. The one person who Regulus had disappointed his entire life. Ironically this last act would have been the one thing that could have made Sirius proud. In fact, Sirius would have been jealous at not having such an excellent opportunity to defy both Lord Voldemort and the society that had haunted him for so many years. But Sirius would never know.
Maybe no one would ever know of his sacrifice. Maybe his defiance of Lord Voldemort and his own death would all be for nothing. Regulus did not care. For once, he was not disappointed in himself.
Regulus remained relatively calm as he felt the inferi hands grasp around his ankles and wrists. He supposed at one time he would have thought them cold and clammy. Now they merely felt cool and somewhat comforting as they pulled him into the icy depths.
He sank deeper into the water. This was not the end. He was merely being cleansed, being given a fresh start in a new life. This time he would not be trapped by the decisions of his family. This time he would be free.
And there was nothing disappointing about that.