Disclaimer:

Me: Dear J.K. Rowling. I have like, forty dollars. Can I have Moony? holds him a strangling hug

J.K.R.: No, now give him back. I own all Harry Potter Charecters.

Me: Damn Lets him go

Sirius traced the lines of the face before him. More accurately, the features and edges since the face in the picture was too young to have lines. Sirius' mouth quirked as he looked at the familiar young face. Hell, he was old at thirty five, but that person never reached twenty two.

Sirius smiled faintly at the figure. A broom clutched in one pale hand, a Quidditch uniform draped over the other arm. The person was looking proud and cocky, grinning wildly, looking around for the one person he wanted to share this monument with.

The familiar face never faltered as it kept searching the crowds, black hair whipping round the handsome face as the wind blew into the eyes of the new quidditch player. Sirius gave a faint grin of pride. But then his smile faltered as he looked more closely at the innocent smile and begged for everything to come undone, begged for that smile to have stayed young and whole and hopeful.

But he knew deep down that nothing would come undone, that the world would keep going in it's spiral, sometimes up, sometimes down, always moving.

And the push of that spiral had made Sirius make the wrong choice, and that innocent was pushed into the life of a grown up far too fast (though this was the fault of the world) condemned to death by Sirius' decision and his own choice, then…killed.

A single tear flowed down Sirius' cheek as his friend and practically brother Remus stepped into the room. The werewolf crouched down next to Sirius and looked at the picture, then at the guilt on Sirius' face.

"It wasn't your fault you know" he said gently

"But why does it hurt so damn much then?" Sirius choked "Surely that's my punishment for being so stupid"

Remus shrugged "He was your brother. You'll always miss Regulus"


A/N: Haha, you thought I was going to say James right?