Lightning hissed across a darkened sky as Regulus smoothed his straight, black hair out of his eyes. The sounds of the storm were bringing back memories of just a few hours ago. The soft hiss of snake and master, the silent, painful scream of the tortured, and the cackles of his followers. It was bloody mad.

Slowly, the seventeen year old slid out of his sheets and onto the polished wooden floor. Reaching for the wand by the bedside he indecisively turned it around in his fingers before flicking. The room became newly illuminated by a dozen or so candles placed around the spacious bedroom.

It was a neat room, with little personal objects on display. Unlike his brother's, Regulus room was decorated with green and silver flags, banners, and Quidditch trophies. Green and silver the signs of pure, noble blood. Slytherin blood.

Groaning softly he pulled at the bandages covering his side. Underneath them a long, thin, newly carved gash was festering. The cool air on the wound did nothing to relieve the pain emanating from it. This was no ordinary wound. It was caused by curse, a curse filled with as much contempt, venom, and hatred that only a person, betrayed by their own blood, could. Regulus looked down at the cut, staring at the small red lines branching off of it. He was never much of a healer, and had no idea what curse caused his pain, never mind how to treat it. The other death eaters weren't much help either, after a skirmish in Diagon Alley, his respective allies fled back to their own hide outs. He wouldn't dare go to the Dark Lord for this. He was probably going loony on Malfoy's arses at the moment; punishing him for the failed assassination of the minster. Honestly, he didn't know what Lucius was thinking. That he and five others were just going to waltz into a ceremony commemorating Dumbledore's achievements against the Dark Arts and murder the Minster of Magic? No. The killing curse never even touched him.

A sharp, stinging pain brought him out of his thoughts.

"What am I supposed to do with this blasted thing" said Regulus, outloud.

Lurching towards the doorframe he grabbed onto it and pulled himself out his room. Soft snoring came from his mother's room to the left. She hadn't even noticed he'd come back. The paintings of his dead relatives one the wall were quietly slumbering away in their frames. Across the hall a nauseating red and gold Gryffindor flag was permanently charmed onto a door. His brother's door. Sirius' room. He felt no anger, nothing, for the man tonight. Of all nights to feel this way it had to be tonight. How ironic, he thought. He shoots a bloody curse at me and I can't even feel angry at him.

Pushing open the door, he winces as it squeals with protest. Igniting the cherry and unicorn wand with a simple spell Regulus begins to circle around his brother's room for about the twenty-fifth time that week. Before his brother had left, to go live with the Potter's he had emptied his room of anything valuable. Regulus on Voldemort's orders had searched and researched his room for any clues about the Order of the Phoenix. The Order was the motley band of muggle lovers, leaded by the famous Albus Dumbledore. Early in his searches Regulus, had found nothing to aide the Dark Lord in his quest for purity, but that hadn't stopped him from continuing to try and prove himself.

The walls covered in half nude, unmoving pictures of muggle girls, and of Sirius's friends held no clues to the Order. Moving to the dresser he flipped through a potions book and pushed aside a few robes. Underneath the scarlet and black robes was a small album. Inscribed on the cover in silver stitching was the Black family crest and motto, "toujours pure". Inside were photos from a past that never seemed to have existed. His family was happy, well as happy as they'd ever been, and together. There was one of Sirius, his father, and an old dog that Regulus didn't remember the name of. The next photo was of his mum and her brothers at Hogwarts. Lastly, was the two boys themselves, one dressed in emerald Quidditch robes, bloody and dirty, the other dressed in black and red school robes looking disappointed but proud. The picture was taken during Regulus' first year at Hogwarts. He remembered their stupid bet.

"Hey Reg! Bet you can't out fly McCormack today, and he can't even sit on his broom straight," Sirius called.

The younger boy turned around from his place on the house bench and glared at his elder brother.

"At least I even bother to try out for a team. You're too gutless to even get a little muddy."

A boy with messy hair and glasses looked up from his eggs and bacon and stared up at Sirius and then across the Great Hall towards the Slytherin table.

"Why do you keep talking to him," asked James Potter? "He's probably freaking out at the moment, seeing as how there's only one open spot on their team this year."

"Well, you know how I needed a little extra cash?"

"I told you, just owl your parents for it."

"No. I have a better idea."

Once again Sirius turned back towards his brothers table.

"Oi! Regulus! Wanna make a bet?"

Regulus, who had just begun to reabsorb himself in his own thoughts and breakfast, pushed back his plate and stood up. Striding quickly he passed the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables until he reached the end of Gryffindor's where his brother and his three inseparable friends sat. James was Sirius' closest and oldest friend. Pure bloods, like the Blacks, the Potter's were a well known family in the wizarding world. They were an outspoken family, always fighting for their beliefs. The boys had become inseparable from the time they had met during their first week at Hogwarts. James was the jock of the group, the famous Gryffindor seeker. Remus was the nice guy, nerd and Peter Pettigrew, well he was the just the oddball that Sirius and James adopted into their group. Together, the four called themselves the Mauraders, four teenage boys on a mission to cause mishap and havoc through the halls of Hogwarts. Regulus found them to be the four most annoying, pricks on earth.

"So, what's this bet about?"

"Well," Sirius drawled. "If you win the Slytherin Keeper position today, you get fifty galleons.

"You're jokin-"

"But! If you lose, you have to give me fifty galleons plus five percent interest on what ever money mummy and dad send you each month."

"Mum and dad only gave you 100 galleons for the whole school year after you insulted Bella at the family reunion."

"I realize that, that's why I'm making the bet you little maggot."

Thinking back to all the bets and he had lost, and won against his clever brother, Regulus hesitated. However, following his gut took the plunge anyway.

"Alright. It's a deal then."

Remus snorted up a bunch of pumpkin juice and Pettigrew began laughing as madly as the school poltergeist,

"You actually accepted the bet," asked James. Next to him, Remus had the decency to look sheepish for his spew of juice and began to mop up the poor block next to him.

"Yes."

Five long, hot, blistering, painful, hours later Regulus came back from the Slytherin locker room fifty galleons richer.

Smiling to himself Regulus closed the album, and turned towards the dark wood door. Pressing his hand against his, starting to bleed again, wound he carefully made his way out of his brothers room. A flicker of light on the window caught his eye, appearing to only be his own wand lights reflection. Haltingly, the teenager stopped his forward motion and double-taked his eyes back towards the window.

"Shit."

Racing out of the room, Regulus took the stairs down to the second landing two at a time, apparating, to the side door, once reaching the first landing. A short "squee," interrupted his rush to get outside.

"Master, Kreacher, must wonder why you are out of bed so late. Master, you're bleeding. Kreacher will get help."

"No, Kreacher, please, not now," replied an anxious boy.

Pushing past his house-elf, he unlocked the door taking deep breaths of the fresh night air as he exited. His thoughts were wild, thinking out every possible senario, why someone might be staring up at his brother's bedroom window in the middle of the night. It was impossible; no one could even see the house never mind the wand light or the bedroom. With his father's elaborate and sometimes unnecessary precautions, Grimwauld Place Number 12, was completely invisible to muggles and wizards unless they knew how to find it. This is why Regulus was panicking beyond belief. Sirius knew how to find the house. Having lived their most of his life, his brother knew every spell, charm, and protection Orion set up. The Order knew this, and the Order and his brother almost assuredly knew he was a Death Eater by now. Sirius, his brother, was coming back to finish him off.