Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
They were the group that all finished at Hogwarts the same year. 1977. They were young, bored and worst of all, naive. They listened with rapt attention to the lectures of parents, the proclamations of purity and superiority. They never thought to take in any other side of the story. After all, how could they all be wrong? Impossible.
By the end of 1982, they were all either dead or imprisoned.
Evan Rosier. Dead.
Wilkes. Dead.
Rabastan Lestrange. Azkaban for life.
Barty Crouch. Azkaban. Dead.
Regulus Black. Dead.
They didn't mean it to end up like this. They didn't mean for all this to happen.
They were supposed to be victorious. They weren't supposed to betray the cause. They weren't supposed to be caught by Aurors. They weren't supposed to be killed in the act of cleansing the wizarding race and ridding the world of those that proclaimed an illusion of superiority. They were supposed to do their families proud.
Regulus Black was killed for what he did. Regulus Black tried to do what he thought was the right thing.
All he had ever wanted to do was prove to his parents he could be the son they had lost in his older brother, rather than some weakling of a younger son, a mammy's boy, an accident. He knew that was what he was. Before Sirius had run off with his blood traitor friends, his mother had made no bones of the fact that Sirius was more important. Sirius was the one the family line relied upon. Sirius would receive the inheritance. Sirius would be the perfect son they had always wanted.
Regulus would just...be there.
The tune changed once Sirius had left but Regulus could still see that sorrow in his mother's eyes. Sirius may have been a blood traitor and Walburga may never have shown him a shred of affection in her life, but he was still her first born. Walburga would give anything to have had Regulus run away instead of the older son.
But it didn't work out that way.
That was why he had joined the others - Rosier, Wilkes, Crouch, Lestrange. That was how he ended up banging on people's doors in the middle of the night with them, demanding to see proof that they were pureblood - or at least halfbloods - and if they couldn't show them that...well that was how those people ended up dead.
They were only beginners, those five. But they were deadly beginners. They were all desperate to prove something, though none of them would admit it. Those five - six really, if you include the traitor who survived - weren't fanatical believers on the level of their parents. No, they could have been fighting -killing - anyone. They were there to prove to their mothers, their fathers, their brothers, their sisters, their friends, their lovers, that they could be powerful and competent and they were feared and 'look, look at what you missed. Look at what I turned out to be without you.'
And none of them, not a single one, got what they desired in the end.
AN: this was supposed to turn out completely different but anyway. It was written for the Dictionary Divine challenge. Hope you liked it, please review!
