So I decided to start this series - Regulus Black trough the eyes of other people. For now, I have no idea how many chapters there will be or from whose perspective will I write (I have a few ideas, but not all). I thought I'd start with Narcissa because their relationship is so clear in my head.
Anyway, I hope you like it and please don't forget to review! :)
"If somebody loved you, they'd tell you by now;
we all turn away when you're down."
The Hush Sound - That's Okay
He was a year younger than her, she never let him forget; she acted like a mother to them all ever since anyone could remember, not a day went by without him teasing her about it.
It as as if Regulus and Narcissa Black were siblings instead of cousins. It is simply that they have so much in common, though.
Both under-appreciated, both the youngest, both lonely.
Sure, Regulus had Sirius (for a while, at least) and Narcissa had her sisters, but no one really understood them; they didn't really understand each other, either, but they were at least willing to agree to disagree.
She always thought that he would break one day. It's not that he was weak (even though she constantly nagged him about how skinny he was), but he was different. Sirius was brash, a rebel; Bellatrix was strong, a warrior; Andromeda was. . .well, Andromeda was a completely new subject in itself. Regulus, however, was quiet and reserved and he thought too much for it to be healthy. He observed everything and Narcissa would often try to distract him at any given chance whenever she saw him sitting all by himself in a corner as aunt Walburga tried to discipline Sirius. The fights were always a lot more discreet whenever Narcissa's own parents were around and she could only imagine what went on when only Sirius, Regulus, and their parents were at home; she didn't really want to.
She loved him, she really did.
Then he started drifting away and she, for the life of her, couldn't figure out how to help. The once quiet boy now grew even quieter, but it was in the silence that lay his biggest strenght. A look, a simple look, and he could have anyone shivering, for everyone knew just how skilled he was with his wand; as expected, mostly non-verbal magic. He was good at that, she remebered.
But he was turning into someone else; she was losing her cousin, she was losing her little Regulus (Reg, she was the only one who could call him Reg without getting hexed, despite his annoyed glances).
When he told her he had a Mark on his forearm, she smiled for him; when she got to the solitude of her room, she wept.
Sixteen years old and already a trained murderer.
The clever child that she trusted with her own life, that trusted her, was a Death Eater.
It went on for two years and, with each passing day, he was slipping more and more from her grip, like sand trough her fingers.
And then he was gone.