All characters belong to JK Rowling
To say my brother was well known is an
understatement. He's practically famous. The once heir to the most Ancient and Noble house of Black, then the disowned child of the Black family, then the convicted criminal for mass degree murder, then the first escapee from Azkaban, THEN, after his death, they finally proved him to be the innocent man that did not murder 14 people in one go. Yeah, Sirius had a lot going on in his life. But you might not know me. Whilst when my dear old brother was thrown into the spotlight, (Not exactly the best thing) I was shoved into the shadows. My name, is Regulus Black. I'm sure Harry Potter mentioned me a few times, portraying me as the dead ex-death eater, but he never really know me, now did he? Ugh, Potters.
Well, my story begins the moment I was sorted into Slytherin, the house of cunningness and ambition. Or, as most people call it, the house for dark wizards. See, almost every single member of the Black family was sorted into Slytherin. Not a bad thing, but most racist pureblood families tend to be sorted into Slytherin, so it gave Slytherin a bad rep. My ever so reckless brother on the other hand, was sorted into Gryffindor. The moment the sorting hat was off my head, Sirius loathed me. I didn't understand! Just because we were in different houses didn't mean we had to cut all contact from each other! Just look at Snape and Evans! They're still friends! Why couldn't we? Before Hogwarts, Sirius was my role model, the little tiny spark of humor and happiness in the muggleborn-hating, rule-loving Black family. From a young age, mother would always tell me that I was meant to be heir. She told me that soon, very soon, Sirius would be disowned. I never really believed her. During Hogwarts, I tried my best to get Sirius to notice me. I wouldn't admit it, but it hurt. Badly. Before, we were so close, but now, well, he would barely look me in the eye. After a year or so, I kind of let it go. Not completely, but enough to mask my emotions so that I looked like me and Sirius hated each other. Our mother totally approved. I joined the Slytherin Quidditch team as Seeker, because Quidditch was honestly the only thing I was good at. And when in the air, I could forget about my crazy mother's rants, or how I would soon carry the Glory of the Blacks on my shoulders. I was momentarily freed of my burden. When the Dark Lord rose, it didn't take much for me to join. Sirius, the only real thing I needed to keep safe, was gone. He hated me. I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, this Dark Lord could give me a life where I wasn't treated like trash by-well, everyone-just because I was sorted into a house with a bad reputation. I ascended Lord Voldemort's ranks quickly, my anger towards my family burning like fuel. Fuel that was sure not to burn out. Voldemort had entrusted me with "an object dear to me, do not let any harm come to it." It was a locket. I didn't know exactly what it was, but Voldemort needed to protect it. And he trusted me. Me. So I protected it.
But eventually, the fuel did burned out. By this time, Harry Potter was soon to be born, and Sirius soon to be named Godfather. I realized that what the Dark Lord was doing was wrong. Completely wrong. How could I have been so blind before? How did I not see it? Erasing muggles and Muggleborns from the map isn't going to solve anything. In fact, it's just going to make things worse. Witches and wizards would have died out if we hadn't reproduced with muggles. I needed to stop him. To stop Voldemort. Not just to save my own skin, but the entire wizarding world was at sake. But how? How do I stop him? I was alone; my friends and family weren't here anymore, I was just a man among millions. But after a few weeks, it came to me. The locket. The one Voldemort entrusted me with so long ago. If he needed me to protect it with all my life, then it has to be worth something. Right?
I still remember that day. The day I went to retrieve the locket. I had ordered Kreacher to never speak of this to anyone, not even my parents. I told him that when I came back, I needed him to find a way to destroy it. To erase it's existence from this world.I still remember the trip to the island, the cave and the boat. I remember staring at the caldron of poison, thinking about my life. The locket was in there, I knew it. The life that I always tried so hard to run away from. I wanted to turn back, turn back and forget this experience, but some part of my mind told me no. You set this goal, and now you must complete it. I guess Slytherin ambition was one of my traits after all. I filled a goblet with poison, bringing it to my lips. You are doing this not for anyone, my mind told me, but for the sake of what is right. Sirius will be able to grow old and have a family. Wizards would not have to cower in fear. Children would not be scared to go outside. Voldemort needs to die. I drained the goblet . It tasted like fire, liquid fire burning in my veins. I wanted to stop, make the pain stop, but I couldn't. I needed to keep drinking. I filled the goblet a second time. I focused on the dream family I always wished for, the one I never had. One with a caring mother, loving father, and a big brother. A brother that was always there for me. I drained to goblet. Smoke erupted out of nowhere, taking form. My mother. She glared at me, with pure joy, and I knew, I just knew something was wrong. No mother of mine would smile like that. Ever. The third goblet drained.
"Regulus." my mother spoke. "Sirius is dead! And guess who killed him? Me! I killed him!"
"No. he isn't," I whispered.
"Oh, yes! He is! Oh, and do you know what his last words are?"
"No. No." The fourth goblet drained. I was automatically filling the goblet now, robotically, rigid.
" He said that he hated our family. That us Blacks were a good for nothing, rotten, disgusting family. He died hating you."
Tears were streaming down my face now. Sirius never upright said he hated me. Maybe he did care for me a little bit? The fifth goblet. My mother turned to black smoke, then drifted away. Now in her place, stood Sirius. Sirius, my older brother, wearing Gryffindor robes, soaked with crimson blood.
"Regulus."
"Sirius."
"You killed me. What you're doing right now, its killing me. You are going to kill me."
"Sirius-I" The sixth goblet.
"Where were you when I needed you?"
"Where were you?" Sirius looked stunned. "The moment I was sorted into Slytherin, You hated me. Why? Sirius, why?" I asked desperately.
"Because you're evil." With that, he vanished. I looked down. The last goblet full. By this time, every inch of my body hurt, hurt like I've never experienced before. I drained to goblet. Pushing down my nausea and thirst, I reached inside the cauldron and felt-a locket. The locket! My fingers felt like giant sausages, with a good layer of blubber wrapped around them. I heard screams. The inferi. Somehow, I managed to shove the locket into my robes, and pulled out the fake. Just as the cauldron started to fill backup, I dropped to fake into the cauldron. I did it. I did it.
"Kreacher." I croaked out. The inferi were close now. A crack, and Kreacher appeared. I handed him the locket. "Go," I whispered.
"But master-"
"Go!" he looked at me with concerning eyes, pleading eyes. The same eyes I looked at Sirius all those years ago. Before I had a moment to reconsider, a crack sounded, and Keacher disappeared. The inferi were grabbing a me now. Only one last thing to do.
"Sirius," I said. "I hope you don't hate me."
I closed my eyes and let the cold hands of the inferi take me away.