A/N: This is an AU in which Luna was born in the Marauders' Era, Barty was several months younger than Regulus, and Kreacher told Barty about how Regulus died.

For Sable Supernova. Thank you so much for all of the effort you have put into QLFC this season as both a judge and a journalist.

Barty awoke with a low groan. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to forget about the nightmares that had been plaguing his sleep for the past few months — images of red eyes and green lights and cold, scathing voices. If he had been but a few months older, he would have been at Regulus' side the day he died. He should have been there. Joining the Death Eater ranks had been his idea in the first place. Teetering between sanity and mayhem, it had seemed like the perfect outlet for his internal chaos. But they had accepted Regulus and rejected Barty, claiming that underage wizards were of no use to them. By the time Barty had hit seventeen, Regulus was dead.

He knew he should be relieved, but it was hard to be grateful for something that had resulted in his best friend dying alone.

The memories usually didn't haunt him this way, but Regulus' thirtieth birthday had just been and gone without there being anyone to gather to celebrate. The event had stirred up the old memories like a feather through dust.

Beside him, Luna rolled over in her sleep, curling an arm around herself for comfort. Her blonde hair spread out around her head like a halo.

Not wanting to wake her up, he rolled out of bed and stepped outside onto the veranda. The temperature dropped the moment he left the protection of their small cottage; they had cast enough spells to keep the building itself warm, but the yard was still subject to the whims of nature. He winced as the cold wind bit at his nose and ears, leaving a harsh chill in its wake.

Closing his eyes, he let the memories wash over him.

-x-

"Barty?" Luna's soft voice, still husky with the last remnants of sleep, brought him back to reality again — as it always seemed to. He didn't know how long he had been standing outside for, but he had begun to shiver.

"I'm fine," Barty replied, preempting her next question.

She tilted her head, examining him. "Yes, you are — but also no, you're not. It's him again, isn't it?"

He sighed. In so many ways, he appreciated his wife's unique way of looking at things and the clever insights it resulted in. Even back when they'd been at school, Luna had been perceptive beyond her years. Regulus' death had shattered him, showing him the dark underbelly to what he had always seen as noble and just. And she had been the one to notice that something was different and act on it, wheedling away at his resolve until he told her what Kreacher had told him and agreed to fight for his friend's memory by joining the Order. Sometimes, however, he wished she was a little less astute; life would be a lot simpler that way.

"Yes," he admitted. "He died, Luna, yet the world kept spinning."

"Would you have preferred it to stop?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious and nonjudgmental.

"No, but I would have liked it to at least teeter for a bit." In a show of false cheer, he made a swaying motion with his hands.

Luna ignored the gesture. "You're right; it didn't teeter. But that's because it was already teetering. He didn't change the world, but he changed you, and that led you to give us the information that set it to rights."

Barty mulled over her words. He didn't like the implication that they had done something heroic. It wasn't like Regulus had had an about-face when it came to Muggle-borns; he'd just wanted to protect his house-elf. And it wasn't like Barty had at that stage, either; he'd just wanted to avoid getting sucked into the war that had martyred his best friend. The second thoughts and changes of heart hadn't come along until later. Still, she had a point. He had been focusing on the fact that the world hadn't seemed to notice, but maybe it was good that it hadn't had to notice.

As they stood there in silence, staring out at the rolling mountains, Barty felt part of the weight rise from his chest. He knew he would never forget his friend, but maybe, one day, he would be able to think back on their time together without regret.