Remus' POV
Regulus is so ignorant.
The worst thing was Remus couldn't even think of anything worse to call him, while still meaning it. He should have been thinking Regulus is not worth squat, or If Regulus wants to be a Death Eater, that's not my problem, or perhaps even Regulus is an evil &$#^(#), but the words echoed dimly in his head as if he were talking about a villain in a book, or someone else's enemy. They're bad, but that truth doesn't really hit you. The hate others have for them doesn't surge through you like it might have, fast and powerful like a steamtrain in your veins. You're not connected.
Because there was that Regulus, and there was his Regulus.
That Regulus wasn't Regulus in anything but name. That Regulus was faceless, a shadow in Remus' head he tried only to refer to when Sirius went on some tirade about his stupid brother, his evil family. That Regulus lurked like a swamp in between the forgotten shelves of Remus' mind (a swamp indeed; something no one wanted to see or be or think about) until he found himself lying in bed without sleep's dull tide washing over him. Then all of Remus' demons picked the lock to the gate of their zoo and poured out of his ears, surrounding him. Full moons and werewolves and Death Eaters and that Regulus, too, pawing and clawing and forming a chain to dance around him, jeering all the while the Reasons Why Remus Couldn't Be Happy.
These nights swelled dark half-moons like springtime buds under Remus' eyes, and the other Marauders would secretly wonder if he had somehow transformed on a sickle moon night.
But those nights don't matter, Remus thought bitterly one midday, trudging up the grassy hill from Care of Magical Creatures. He'd had worse nights, and he could handle his own torments (that's the thing about having personal demons; their yours and yours only so you have utter control over them. People don't realise that). He didn't mind the sleepless nights so much, if the demons came out to play. It was worse if they didn't. Then he got restless, became maybe a little lonely. Then he began to remember and didn't know how to stop.
He would remember the first time, the shy smiles and the whisper-laughs almost a year ago, that Once in the library when it was nearly After-Hours and it was only Remus and Regulus. Reg had looked upset, and he was Remus' best friend's brother so of course he tried to comfort him. That was all that happened then, just some kind words and homework help. It was a few weeks later at almost the same time at night as Remus was walking back to his common room when he came across Regulus and they'd talked before somewhere out of the blue he'd kissed him (and Remus couldn't even remember who had kissed who). He could see new constellations in the stars in his eyes when they'd left each other for the night.
More memories plagued him then, the months after when It had continued, as nighttime meetings in the corridors, each evening like a sweet and rare date in the dry, chalky scones Remus' aunt always served when his family visited. It was all kisses that knotted the breath in Remus' throat and hurried, uncertain touches then. With the moments they spend together they built a warm and steady fire in the middle of a dark and wild snowstorm that was the taboo, the forbiddenness that existed because they were both boys, because one was a Gryffindor and one a Slytherin, because Regulus was Sirius' brother and even though Sirius had run away Remus couldn't imagine what Padfoot would do if he knew. Even if he wasn't angry he wouldn't be the same, ever. And so Regulus and Remus gave no one cause to believe they were in any way affiliated, and granted themselves only a sprinkling of nights that came back to haunt Remus. Ghosts of What you had and lost. Remus couldn't stand it, he couldn't bear it, it shook him apart and left him in pieces more than anything else. Even more than his condition.
At times, Remus would also remember when it ended, wholly and officially, but that didn't bother him as much, strangely. Remus found solace in the fact that it wasn't he who ended it. It had been Regulus because Regulus was power-hungry and ignorant stupid and scared, scared for himself and not caring about who he left behind, be it his brother or his lover.
Sirius was chattering away about something to Remus, Peter and James as they reached the peak of the hill and crossed to the opening in a cool stone wall into the courtyard. Here plans for a new prank died on Sirius' lips as the four Marauders saw a scene of calamity unfolding across the cobblestone square.
A girl Remus vaguely recognised as a muggleborn Ravenclaw in his year was screaming as she was being held upside down in the air by magic, surrounded by a circle of tall students in their long robes and silver-and-green ties. A few of the girl's friends were trying to stop the Slytherins, the Death Eaters in training, from tormenting her so, but most of the students in the courtyard stayed at a wary distance, not liking what was happening but too frightened for themselves to do anything.
Such was the wizarding world now as it walked slowly into waves of Dark Magic, but none of that mattered because Remus had caught sight of Regulus, standing in the midst of the early Death Eaters, laughing, and Remus knew.
That Regulus was never in his head, was never faceless or a single idea, a one-in-a-million maybe, a possibility. That Regulus wasn't a dark twist of shadow in the corridor, he wasn't nightmares and demons and the headlines spruking new deaths and disappearences on the Daily Prophet. That Regulus was flesh and blood, sinew and bone; he was lungs that filled with the same air as Remus and eyes that interperated the same things, too.
Remus' gaze met with Regulus', for only a moment. And Remus now knew, now saw, the creature which had evolved from his Regulus. The terrible, the inescapable, the unjustifiable truth lain out for him to see, for him to take the blame. His Regulus had once existed, once existed even after Sirius had left him behind. His Regulus had been and loved and laughed and ran away, turned itself into that Regulus, and Remus had let him go. His Regulus had turned into little more than a memory, a shadow in the back of his mind that Remus refused to think about, not because he was scared of what it might do... but because he was scared of who it was. His Regulus was just a shadow-boy, a ghost that fluttered in Remus' eyes and tinted everything he saw shades of grey, the same grey as the real thing's eyes.
Remus' eyes jumped away from those. A flick of his wand sent the screaming girl tumbling to the ground where her friends swarmed around the Slytherin boys, apparently startled at the suddenness of her fall into action. Remus ignored them, and, paying no heed to James' questioning yelled at his back, stalked away to the castle, through the Entrance Hall, up staircases and along the corridors filled with whispers of portraits, the ghost of his Regulus trailing behind.
Regulus' POV
Remus was so ignorant.
He held it all against Regulus; the bullying of muggleborns in the corridors, the abrupt end of their... of them, he and Remus, the veins of darkness trickling through the school. And yet he had no idea. Remus went every evening back to a warm fire and a group of friends, a bed and a place to do homework. He had no idea what it was like behind Slytherin's walls... They read the Prophet with glee there, talked of how the world needed Cleansing, puppets whose strings were pulled deftly by Malfoy, the Leader... and once he had his eye on you, there was no escape, even when he left school, not when you were in every class with his followers, when you shared a dorm with them all, whispering their plans that knitted together into nightmares when you finally fell asleep.
They knew Regulus would sucuumb, and he had, after fighting against it for as long as he could. It was like fighting against the tide, or trying to keep summer from fading into autumn. No matter how many precautions you took, it was always destined to be inevitable. You were just more tired when you gave in.
Regulus was out of control of his own life, but at least, at least he could save Remus from it all. They were galaxies apart, and though the star-crossed lover thing presented the brightest, happiest months in Regulus' life, he did better than Romeo and Juliet - he realised it couldn't last without ending in tragedy. If the Death Eaters in training ever found out, they'd have it in for Remus, or else use him to get to Regulus. It didn't matter what they dragged Regulus into, tarnished as he was by his house, his family, his legacy, so long as Remus, good light Remus was unaffected.
Regulus supposed it was too much to expect Remus to understand, but he did anyway. How could Remus not? Remus, who was dragged out into a twisted night of darkness every month? Remus knew what it was like, to be forced into something you never wanted. How could he not see it in Regulus?
He didn't, though. In the commotion following the girl's unceromonious tumble to the ground, Regulus quietly slipped away, out of the courtyard and onto the grounds. The forest whispered in one voice in the midday breeze, a hiss soft as Parseltongue, and Regulus wondered briefly if that was why so many snakes lived in the trees. Perhaps they could hear what the forest had to say.
On the other side of the lake the gnarled Whomping Willow stood bent over itself, completely motionless even in the wind. An almost-full moon blemished the otherwise periwinkle sky. Remus would be here in a few days, stealing down the passage to the Shrieking Shack. Regulus had always worried for him at full moon, had always been sure Remus had done himself irreversable damage, had always been so relieved to see him a few days later. Battered, scratched and sickly, but alive. saved
Regulus still did worry for him. He doubted he'd ever stop.
And Remus had barely been able to look at Regulus today. Again, he shouldn't have been surprised, but... He just wished there was someone, someone who saw some good in him. Remus had, for a while, but he was gone. Sirius had, for a while, but he was gone too. It was all for the better, Regulus supposed. Those two had been close to him; he'd pushed them away and they were much, much safer.
Maybe that was the most Regulus could do. Even though he was on a set course, it didn't mean everyone around him was. Instead of bringing the people he loved down with him, maybe, just maybe he could save them. It had worked for Sirius, and it had worked for Remus.
He would never stop loving his brother or his Remus. But it was better off this way.
Regulus stayed by the lake for the rest of the day regardless of all the classes he had, finally letting the ghosts of the things he had lost - no, saved - settle in his chest.