I do not own Regulas.
Hero
By: swimdiva87
Regulas looked in the mirror. Traditional Black features reflected back at him: high cheek bones, curly black hair, and gray eyes. A face much like his brother's looked back at him, though it was handsome, less edgy, less…brave. He was a Black, he played with others as a child would a animal. He acted better than everyone else, so his name decreed. He looked around his room. It defined him as a Slytherin, green and silver everywhere. It defined him as a Slytherin, a Pureblood, it defined him as a Black. Just his room alone defined him as someone of regal status, near royalty. It defined him as safe.
Sirius wasn't safe. Sirius liked to dance with fear, to play with fire. He never sat still, always was moving, always fighting. Sirius was destined to change the way Blacks played with others. He treated everyone as his equal. His room was gold from the ceiling to the floor boards. It defined him as a Gryffindor, as a blood traitor, as a mongrel. He was brave. Sirius was a hero.
Regulas paced around his room, his silver, Slytherin room. His brother had ran away. His brother was brave enough to say no to the society he was being pushed into, and to fight against it. He said no. His brother was a hero.
Ah, how Regular wished he could say no. Regulas wanted a quiet life, a life without harm or danger, somewhere secluded where he could go about his business. Maybe a wife and kids to carry on the Black name. But then the Dark Lord reared his head. Someone from the Blacks had to be his servant, and that someone had to be Regulas. He wished he had the courage of his brother, to run, to be free, to be a hero. But Regulas is a Slytherin. Let's face it, Slytherins just aren't heroes.