[1979]

The sky was falling, flaking away in chunks that caused ripples when they hit the water. So this was how it ended—cold and alone in the dark with the world collapsing around me. Not exactly what I'd expected, but not particularly surprising, either.

I was weightless, floating in a vacuum, even though I was vaguely aware of the hands that were pulling me into the depths. This was my reward for challenging the status quo, for thinking that maybe, just this once, I could do something that would make a difference. Should've known better. For eighteen years, I had simply done what was expected of me. Foolish to fight it now. What was I thinking?

Above me flashed a beautiful white light—the sort Heaven was made of, so it seemed fitting that I was drifting away from it. The hands that bound me fled, leaving me to sink towards the void with nothing to hold me up, weighed down by my regrets.

The last thing I knew was the splash of something hitting the water—the sky, it must have been, as it fell. Nothingness rose up to claim me, and I embraced it, too tired to fight, drifting willingly into the unknown.

...(X)...

"Are you sure? This is a pretty big...I mean, if you're wrong...You have to be positive." Sirius knitted his eyebrows and stared at me as if I might crack under the imaginary pressure. That hadn't worked since we were small boys, when I was too young to know any better, and I didn't appreciate it now.

"Would I be here if I wasn't?"

In all honesty, I still wasn't sure exactly where "here" was, but it almost made me regret my decision to go to Sirius in the first place. It was some filthy Muggle establishment, and that alone was enough to turn my stomach, never mind the reek of cheap booze and elicit substances. No one would even imagine to look for a Black here, so in that, at least, it served its purpose.

"No, I guess not. But a horcrux? Bloody hell, Reggie. That's not the sort of business to get mixed up in."

"Like I've never heard that before." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I took a swig of what the Muggle bartender had called whiskey. It wasn't as strong as Firewhiskey, but my wound nerves were already relaxing, so I suffered through it.

"I wasn't wrong then, either, now was I?"

Sirius quirked his eyebrows expectantly, but I averted my gaze. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? Like he was some damn saint. Like his choices were any better, what with how he got caught up with that idiot Potter and his Mudblood girlfriend. That sure did him a lot of good, didn't it? He was thinner now, more pale, and had an ever-persistent tick that caused him to jump at loud noises like each one might be a Death Eater in waiting. Sure, he was the epitome of good choices.

"Listen, I didn't come here for a lecture, so if that's all you've got to say, I might as well be on my way."

The chair screeched as I pushed back from the table, groaning as I stood, but Sirius shook his head and motioned for me to sit.

"No. Stay."

I shifted my weight between my legs, teetering on indecision. What was it that had possessed me to approach my brother anyway? The plan had been to simply steal the locket of my own accord, quietly, in such a way that no one would know. So why was I even wasting my time on this?

With a sigh, I pulled the chair back to the table and took a seat. Ultimately, I had to tell someone, because if something should happen...if I should fail...I shook my head to displace that line of thinking. Now was no time to have doubts.

"If what you say is true, then that means..." Sirius began.

"Voldemort can't be killed," I interrupted. "Not so long as that horcrux exists. And who's to say there's not more?"

"More? Splitting your soul more than once...but that's ludicrous!"

Sirius slammed his hand on the table, drawing curious stares and annoyed leers from across the bar. It served as a reminder that we had to keep our voices down and remain discreet. This wasn't exactly something that should be overheard, regardless of whether these folks were simple Muggles or not.

"And what if it's true?" Sirius continued, leaning closer so he could whisper over the table. "What if there are more of them?"

"Then we have to find them—all of them—and destroy them. It's the only way."

"It's madness." Sirius heaved a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, stroking the stubble that lined his face. After a few minutes of silent reflection, he said, "I'll have to take this back to the Order, you know."

"Do whatever you want. I didn't come here for your help."

"You can't still hope to do this on your own. It's madness, Reggie! If you'll just wait, I can tell Albus..."

"Albus?!" I scoffed as I threw an arm over the back of my chair and crossed my legs. "That old fool is either senile or incompetent. Or both. If he had the ability to stop Voldemort, he would've done it by now. He's nothing but a washed-up, old wizard. I honestly don't see why you follow him."

"Because at least I realize that I can't do everything on my own."

Our eyes met, and I saw a flash of the old Sirius in his gray irises. It had been a long time since I'd seen that sort of passion in my brother, even if it was foolish and misplaced. It wasn't like I hadn't known that he would try to talk me out of it. In his eyes, I would always be the younger brother in need of protection, but that wasn't why I had come.

"Please, Reggie, don't do anything foolish. Just wait. You've come this far, haven't you? What's another couple of days? We'll figure out a plan or something. We can do it together. Just...wait. Okay?"

"Sure, Sirius. I'll wait."

There was an understanding between us; I could see it in his face. I said what my older brother wanted to hear, but even Sirius could tell that I didn't mean a word of it.

...(X)...

As I regained consciousness, I was greeted by darkness...and then pain. I had half-hoped I'd had the good fortune of dying already, but the agonizing ache that flared in every muscle of my body suggested otherwise. Just perfect. My lungs and chest burned with every breath, and there was a full percussion ensemble that had taken up residence in my skull, keeping time with my pulse.

Even though it was against my better judgment, I tried to sit up, but a fresh wave of pain wracked my body. An unwitting groan slipped out as I fell back, laying as still as I could and waiting for the episode to pass.

"Don't move. I have no idea what the hell that curse was, but it's a nasty one. The Inferi did quite a number on you, too." There was a pause and then a sharp, "Idiot."

The voice was familiar, even though it took a second to place it. Everything sounded muffled and distant. Water on the ears, probably. The least of my worries. Still, deciphering the noise took some effort.

"Sirius?" I managed to choke out, despite my thick tongue causing me to stumble over the word like a clumsy drunk. Everything was still rocking but was beginning to steady, at least, as I looked up into gray eyes.

"Of course. Who else would be foolish enough to go after you?"

"But...how..." I tried to crank my sluggish brain into high gear, but my body didn't seem to want to cooperate.

"Kreacher told me, after a bit of persuasion on my part. Might just be the first thing that sorry excuse for a House-Elf ever did right."

"You're...far too hard...on him."

Speaking was getting easier over time, and the pain was beginning to fade to a constant ache. I could tolerate that, at least.

"Why in the world didn't you wait? I told you to wait. If you had given me some time, the Order—"

"The Order! That's all I ever hear coming out of your mouth." I gritted my teeth and, despite my body's protests, forced myself to sit, using the arm of the couch as a prop. "Regardless of what's happened, whatever you think, I am not a part of the Order, and I never will be. Bunch of disgusting Muggle-lovers. I'm so much better than that. You are, too, but you seem to have forgotten."

I wasn't sure what was worse, the way he slowly shook his head or the way his eyes glossed over with disappointment. He was growing weary of these arguments. He wasn't the only one.

"You could have died. Died. Don't you get that? Damn it, Reggie, why can't you understand?"

Could have died. Would have died, if not for him. Should have died, perhaps. What was it they said? You can't cheat death. Not for long, anyway. Death always catches up to you in the end.

I swung my feet over the edge of the couch, steadying myself as the room swayed with the sudden movement, and shoved him out of the way. I couldn't stand how he was looking at me. As much as my body ached, his eyes seemed to imply that he hurt worse, and it was my fault.

"I'm not a bloody child," I snapped.

"You're right, you're not, so I wish you'd stop acting like one."

Even though I knew I wasn't ready, I forced myself to stand, and my legs wobbled under the weight. Sirius started to reach out, but he hesitated, eventually dropping his hand back into his lap. It was the same as it always was; nothing had changed. Just half-assed attempts that always led to the conclusion that we were too different. Maybe that would never change.

I staggered over to the small sink in the corner of the room, forcing one faltering step after another. The place was foreign to me, but I figured it must have been Sirius' apartment. It was decorated with a layer of dust and piles of discarded clothes with an occasional piece of trash—empty bottles here, a random parchment there, old newspapers that had been used for Merlin knows what. How far he had fallen from the Black he used to be.

I placed my hands on either side of the basin to steady myself as I glanced into the mirror. I was met with dark eyes sunken into a pale face, contrasted by tangles of black hair. Guess I'd seen better days, huh?

A splash of water would do me good. I reached a shaking hand for the faucet, but I stopped short. I could still feel it around me, pulling me down, filtering into my lungs—cold, endless, inescapable. I thought better of it and turned away from the basin.

"So...what now?" I asked, pressing my back against the porcelain.

"He'll come for you, I'm sure of that." Sirius stood as he spoke, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his pants and hunching his shoulders. "You know too much. There's no way You-Know-Wh—"

"Don't. Don't do that. We're not schoolboys, Sirius. I'm not afraid of a name, and neither should you be."

"Fine." With a sigh, Sirius shrugged, holding his hands palms-up in defeat. "Voldemort will hunt you down and finish the job. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Let's not think of it now. Why don't you just stay here a while?"

"Here? You mean in this hovel?" I kicked at a pile of clothes to illustrate my point. Much to my dismay, a bug scurried out the other side. Surely he was joking. The mere thought of it was ludicrous.

"It's no mansion, I admit, but I-I'll clean." With a slight redness creeping into his cheeks, he scooped up the clothes and threw them in a bin. He drew his wand and sent the rest of the junk into its respective corners, which succeeded in exposing more floor space, perhaps, but it certainly didn't make the place any less of a dump.

"It's not forever," Sirius said, turning back to me as he slipped his wand into his shirt. "Just...a week. Give it a week, see what happens. I'll bring you things, whatever it is you need. For now, only you and I know what truly happened in that cave. Hell, even I'm not entirely sure what really happened. If we're lucky..."

"You mean, he thinks I'm dead?"

"Wouldn't you? It's clear that that's what he intended, and I doubt he's used to failing. I'm sure the thought never even crosses his mind."

No, failure wasn't an option where the Dark Lord was concerned—not for him, and not for his subordinates, either. I had learned that on numerous occasions first-hand. If he had even an inkling that perhaps his plan hadn't succeeded, there was no doubt in my mind that he would rectify the situation. I sure as hell didn't intend to let that happen. But where else would I go? Sirius was right; I had no choice but to stay.

"One week. Just one. I don't want to spend a minute longer than I have to in this sorry excuse for a flat. Honestly, I don't know how you do it."

"Just...don't go anywhere. And don't do anything. For real this time, got it?" Sirius grabbed his coat and slung it around his shoulders as he spoke. "I'm going to go talk with the...Well, I have a few things to do." He paused by the door and swept his eyes over me, starting at my feet and ending by meeting my gaze. "You sure you'll be all right here, Reggie?"

"It's Regulus, and I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"That's right, of course you can." Sirius sighed as he opened the door, pausing with it half open to scrutinize me one last time. "Do you need anything while I'm out?"

"Just send Kreacher when you get a chance. He'll take care of it."

"I don't think that's a good idea. He'll be looking for you, and if he gets his hands on that good-for-nothing House-Elf..."

"Then Kreacher will take my secret to the grave, I'm sure of it. Send him along."

For a moment, he looked like he would argue, but he slowly closed his mouth and set his jaw as he nodded to show he understood. With a soft click, he closed the door behind him.

What was I supposed to do now? This place was such a vast difference from the manor. I could pace the whole entirety of it in a minute. The belongings were sparse and uninteresting. Grunting, I collapsed onto the couch, throwing an arm over my eyes to block out the light. Might as well nap. What a dull week it was bound to be.

I must have dozed off despite the lumpy, rundown cushions because the next thing I knew I was waking to the loud pop of someone Apparating into the room. Through the haze that lingered from sleep, I fumbled for my wand and managed to turn it on the intruder.

"Master...is alive?"

I lowered my wand at the scratchy, old voice and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I sat up the rest of the way.

"Oh, it's just you, Kreacher," I said as I stretched, the final words distorted by a yawn.

"Master is well. Kreacher is pleased." He smiled, or the closest thing to a smile it was possible for him to get. It may have resembled a grimace, but the intent was there. In an instant it was gone, and he was suddenly tugging at his ears. "But Kreacher is bad Elf, told blood-traitor Master's secrets. Kreacher must be punished."

With a wail, he fell to his knees, wrapping his bony fingers around his bowed head. They were red and swollen with makeshift bandages barely covering the obvious heat blisters. He must have already taken the disciplining upon himself. With an iron no less, it looked like. Foolish old House-Elf. He shouldn't have bothered.

"Stand up, Kreacher. There was no need for punishment. You've done fine. Saved my life, actually. Just don't make a habit of going against my will. I'll let it slide this once, but I won't be so forgiving again. Secrets are secret for a reason."

"Good Master, kind Master. So forgiving. Master is too good to Kreacher."

As ornery as he was at times, he was a reliable House-Elf. More than that, if he hadn't had the gumption to go against my wishes, I'd be dead. In a strange way, I owed him my life, yet here he was, begging for my forgiveness.

"I'll be needing some things, Kreacher, but you mustn't let anyone see you take them. No one can know that I'm here. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes, Master. Kreacher won't fail Master again."

Funny how the only two people in the world who were allowed to know I was still alive were a blood-traitor, whose only success in life thus far was getting burned off the family tree, and a House-Elf, who was little more than a slave in the eyes of the Wizarding world. What was my life coming to?

...(X)...

The week was drawing to a close, and I was more than eager to leave this pitiful prison. There was a glimmer of light at the end of an otherwise abysmal tunnel, and I was nearly there. Where I'd go from here was anyone's guess. I had no plans at all, no inkling of what the future would hold. All I knew was that Voldemort had to be stopped, and I was probably the person closest to figuring out how.

There was a crack as someone Apparated into the other room, and I started out of my thoughts. I grabbed the Daily Prophet that had sat forgotten beside me all morning and leafed idly through it, pretending to be busy.

"So how was it?" I asked without looking up as Sirius entered the room. He tossed his outer robe over a chair with a sigh and ran a hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair.

"Was a right proper funeral, I suppose. All the people you'd expect were there. The eulogies were lovely. You'll be happy to know that you'll be missed."

Missed? The concept alone was laughable. As much as I had changed in the past few months, what did any of them know of who I was? Hell, I wasn't even sure who I was. What they would miss is the promising young Death Eater, but I couldn't be that person anymore.

"The decorations were rather impressive, though," he added. "Spared no expense, apparently. Green and silver. You would've liked it."

"Bit tacky to show up at one's own funeral, though, I imagine."

"I guess you're right." He came around the couch and glanced at my paper, raising his eyebrows as he smirked. "Reading the classifieds? Don't you think it's a bit soon? I mean, you're only freshly dead, after all."

I shook the paper and looked more carefully at what I was supposed to be reading. He was right, damn him. I had been too distracted to even notice what I had grabbed.

"And Mother and Father?" I asked, setting the paper aside and scratching at the mark on my forearm absentmindedly.

"Kept up appearances well, of course, but I suppose they're coping as well as anyone who's lost their favorite son," he said as he walked into the kitchen.

The bitterness in his tone wasn't lost on me. It was a sore subject, of course, seeing as how he'd wasted no time in falling out of Mother and Father's favor years ago.

"I still think you're an idiot for even attempting to sneak in, and it's a wonder you weren't caught."

"I have my ways," he said as he pulled the fridge open and stuck his head inside. I couldn't even begin to guess what he was looking for. As far as I could tell, it was always empty, save for the occasional rotten remains of what once was food.

He pulled out the last bottle of Firewhiskey and shut the door with his hip, opening the lid on the edge of the kitchen table as he passed.

"So what are you going to do, now that you're officially dead?" he asked as he plopped into an understuffed beanbag, which coughed out some of its stuffing.

"Go into hiding, I suppose, until I decide something more long term."

I'd had a week now to plan my next steps, but I had nothing. There was no way I could return to the manor and no way to send word to Mother and Father. It would only endanger them, and I refused to drag them into this mess I'd managed to make for myself. One fact remained through it all—I would not forgive Voldemort for his attempted murder. It seemed I had plenty of free time on my hands now, time that I could devote to studying. One way or another, though I wasn't sure how, Voldemort would fall. I would see to that.

...(X)...

[1981]

Someone was knocking. Save for Kreacher, I hadn't had a visitor in quite some time now that Sirius was in pseudo-hiding himself. I debated letting it pass, but the knocking continued, growing more insistent.

"Go away," I said loud enough for them to hear as I turned the page on the Dark Arts book I was reading. After a year and a half of searching, I didn't feel any closer to a solution than when I had begun.

"Reggie, it's me. Open the damn door."

There was no mistaking that voice, even if I hadn't heard it in a while, so I put my book aside and did as I was told. He darted in, and after checking to be sure he wasn't followed, I closed the door quietly.

He'd certainly seen better days. It seemed the war had taken a toll on him, more so than I could have imagined. His hair was long, soiled, and tangled like it hadn't been brushed in a while. He had a haggard-looking beard starting to sprout, but even through that I could tell he was getting thin.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked as he paced the length of room, mumbling to himself and occasionally ceasing his ramblings long enough to chew an already worn nail. "It looks like you've gone a round with a chimaera—and lost. Pitifully."

"They're dead, Reggie. Dead! He killed them, that bastard!"

His words sounded almost like a growl, and he looked very much like a feral animal. His eyes flitted around the room, but I doubted whether he actually saw any of it. His mind was elsewhere.

"Who's dead, Sirius?"

"James." He choked back a sob, allowing a single pitiful whine to slip through. "And Lily. The Potters. He...he killed them both. Then Harry...Harry..."

Sirius started as if he was just waking up from a dream. His jacket was wadded up in the crook of his elbow, and it began to squirm as he shifted it to his other arm. I was afraid to ask. He clearly wasn't in his right mind, and I had no doubt that I was thirty seconds away from being dragged into whatever idiotic revenge scheme he'd worked up. Whatever it was, I wanted no part in it.

"I need you to take him," he said, holding out his jacket.

"Him?"

He pulled the cloth down slightly to reveal a round, pudgy face stained with debris and stale blood. One tired green eye opened, regarded me lazily, and then closed again.

"Have you lost your mind?" I hissed, doing my best to keep my voice low. The last thing I needed was to have to deal with a screaming brat.

"He tried to kill him. I mean, Voldemort tried to kill Harry, but...something went wrong. I dunno, Reggie. The house was destroyed, and Voldemort was gone. He's fallen, they say. Destroyed with everything else, I suppose, but Harry...I'm all he has left. I'm his godfather. It's my job to protect him, and I will."

"Wait, wait, back up." I must have heard him wrong. My head was swimming trying to keep up with his disjointed thoughts. A baby killed Voldemort. An infant? But why? How? None of it made any sense. "Voldemort is..."

"Gone. For good, they say, but you and I know better. He'll come back, and when he does, he'll want to finish what he started."

"So, uh, what does this have to do with me?"

"I need you to take him."

I immediately crossed my arms and shook my head as I took several steps backwards.

"Uh-uh. You're not sticking me with that thing. What do I know about babies?"

Nothing. That was the appropriate answer. What's more, I didn't care to know anything, either. I had always imagined that one day I would be forced to marry and settle down like a proper Pureblood, carry on the Black legacy, but not at twenty, and certainly not with some mongrel infant whose parents didn't have enough sense to not get themselves killed.

"You have to take him, Reggie. Just for a little while. I promise I'll be back before long."

He was practically begging. I had never heard my brother beg before. Not through the beatings or the scoldings or the punishments. Everything, everything that life had thrown at him, he'd taken in stride.

"But...why me?"

"Because you're the only person I trust with this. No one will think to look for you. No one even knows you're alive. I'm the only family he's got, which makes him your family, too, whether you like it or not. I don't know who the hell I can trust anymore, Reggie, but I trust you. Despite our differences, I know you wouldn't let any harm come to a helpless baby."

It was true that we didn't always get along, but he was my brother, and I did still owe him for saving my life. More than that, he had a fire in his eyes and a shadow that I had never seen there before: bloodlust. Whatever had happened, he wasn't the Sirius I knew. He was desperate, broken, frightened, and, in his own way, downright scary.

"A few hours won't hurt, I suppose." I sighed as I held out my arms. The relief that flashed in his face made me guilty; even still, I had my reservations about doing this favor, but that wasn't the way it was supposed to be, was it? Somewhere down the line, it seemed like we had forgotten how to act like a family.

"Be safe, Harry," Sirius whispered as he handed the baby over, patting his head one last time.

The baby was heavier than he looked. Then again, it wasn't like I had much experience with the things. What did I know? He grunted with the initial movement, but then settled back to sleep in my arms. If I was lucky, he'd stay like that until Sirius returned, and I could wash my hands of the situation.

"Don't trust anyone. Don't open the door to anyone. You'll know it's me because I'll use the codeword locket. Got it?"

"I'm not dense. I've got it."

Sirius patted me on the shoulder a few times, and then he paused. I couldn't tell if he was waiting for me to ask the question or not, so I asked it anyway.

"Where are you off to, Sirius?"

"I know who did it." His voice was so low that I had to strain to hear, and he turned away to face the door as he spoke. "They trusted him, and he betrayed them, the rat bastard. It's his fault they're dead. I'll find him. I won't let him get away with what he's done."

I wanted to ask the next obvious question that was burning in my mind: what will you do if you find him? But I let it go. I doubted I'd much like the answer, and I had an inkling that even he didn't know.

"Just sit tight. I'll be back."

He stopped at the door and looked back like he wanted to say something. Ultimately, he must have decided against it, because he disappeared out into the hallway without a word. Wasn't that always the way? I had never even thanked him for coming after me that night—stubbornly, as unwanted as his help was—and saving my life. Maybe we weren't as different as I liked to think.

I believed him. Merlin knew why, but I did. It wasn't like I was exactly going anywhere anyway.

Resigned to my fate, I plopped down on the couch with the baby in my arms, hoping against hope that he wouldn't wake. I had no idea what to do with a screaming infant, and I wasn't particularly keen to find out.

But one hour turned to two, and then to a few, and a few hours eventually dawned into morning. Still, I waited patiently. By midday, I realized Sirius had lied; he wasn't coming back.

Author's Note: Written for the Tri-Wizard Tournament in the Hogwarts Houses Challenge. The prompt scenario was what if Regulus told Sirius about the horcruxes? How would that change Harry's life? This will be in three parts, 5k words each. Reviews are very much appreciated, constructive criticism especially. :)

EDIT: Decided to expand this past the three original chapters, so now there should be approximately a chapter for each year. :3

Prompts:

- What if Regulus told Sirius about the horcruxes?

- (character) Sirius Black