A/N: I wrote a Regulus Black thing, probably should be revising for my GCSEs, oh well. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I may be British but that doesn't make me JKR
He wanted to be brave. His brother was brave, no matter what their mother said. But he was scared. Scared of what his mother would say if he was brave. He was supposed to lust for power and glory, not love. He didn't need a hat to tell him he'd betrayed his mother, he already knew. He'd known for two years, since the letter came. He wanted to be brave, like his brother.
Standing in that hall, it all seemed so different. He wanted to be brave but he was so scared. The whispering voice told him he could be brave, but he was scared and obeyed his mother. His brother was brave, he was a coward. He saw his brother. His brother had friends, he wished he had friends, but he wasn't brave. He wished he was brave enough to talk to his brother.
He wasn't brave enough to fight in the corridors. He hid in the library, learning, wishing to be brave. His mother said his brother was a disgrace. That wasn't true, his brother was perfect. His brother's loud laugh echoed around the castle. He sat in silence, hoping. They hadn't spoken for years, not since the letter had arrived. He wasn't brave enough to tell his brother how proud he was of him.
His brother loved to fly. He would fly, to show his brother he was like him. He loved to fly too. His brother didn't understand. He was a skilled player, why wasn't his brother proud of him? His mother was proud of him. His father didn't care. His father never cared.
Darkness ruled the outside world. Letters came and students left. He was afraid. His mother said the darkness would give them power. He was scared of his mother, so he obeyed. His brother was brave. His brother was happy. He wanted to guard that happiness. The impure wouldn't destroy the happiness of his brother. He would be brave.
He was brave. He would fight as his mother wanted. His cousin told him how to be brave. His cousin was brave. She stood at the lord's side. He was still scared of his cousin. His brother didn't understand. He was angry. Why didn't his brother see that he was going to save him? He was being brave, like his brother. His brother said he was too young. That he was going to get himself killed. He would make his brother proud. He would.
It was his job to find knowledge in the library. He was brave. He found the books, stomach turning as they were. He read them all. He was brave. His brother would be safe. He would make sure his brother was safe. He loved his brother. His mother would never know. His brother wasn't a disgrace. His brother was happy.
His mother was proud when the badge came. His brother sneered at the shiny "P" on his robes. His brother's friend was head boy. He was brave too. Brave like his brother. He wished his brother liked him as much as he loved the dark haired boy. If only he'd been braver.
Late night patrols brought him to the mirror. He jumped, seeing his brother behind him. If he had been braver, he wouldn't have run away. If only he was brave. His brother was brave enough to argue with the professors. His brother was amazing. If only he'd listened to his brother.
If only.
He wasn't brave enough to turn from his mother's will. He had never been. If only he was like his brother. His brother's laugh echoed long after it was gone. He himself hadn't laughed for years. Not since the letter came. Not since his brother left him all alone with his mother. His mother was mad. He was still afraid. His brother was right. Of course his brother was right. He was such a fool. He'd never been brave.
He wasn't brave enough to say no when the Dark Lord needed an elf. His mother was proud of him. He regretted it. He wanted to be brave but the darkness owned him. His brother was free. His father was dead. If only he'd listened to the hat.
The elf, his only friend. Lay, nigh on dead, on the kitchen floor. He had almost sent him to his death. His mother had no pity. He wasn't brave enough to correct her. He was a coward. What was the use?
His brother blasted away the mask he wore. His wand faltered, he wasn't brave enough to hurt his brother. He loved his brother. But his brother had forsaken him. He longed to stand by his brother. He stood facing him. His worst nightmare. He was trying to save his brother. Why was he being forced to try and kill him? He didn't understand.
The elf survived. He spoke of a cave, of darkness and of the dead. He spoke of the potion, of the screams and of the pain. He spoke of a locket, dark beyond knowledge. He was their seeker of knowledge. He would discover. He would not fail his brother. He would be brave.
He left a note. A note for his brother, who was brave. His brother who would live. His brother who was not a disgrace, his brother. His elder brother, his heir. He told his mother he was going to the bank. She didn't bid him farewell. She never had.
The elf held his hand as they stood in the cave. It was dark. The wall was coated with his blood. He'd researched that, years ago. They'd said it was needed for a hideout. They'd lied. They'd always lied. If only he'd been brave like his brother. He'd make his choice seven years ago, falling to his fear of his mad mother. At eighteen, he'd be brave, like his brother, like he'd always wanted.
He told the elf what to do and then he drank. He drank a toast to his brother as he filled his throat with poison. He drank again and again. He saw his father hit his brother. He heard his mother screaming foul oaths of "blood-traitor" and of murder. He heard his brother laugh at him as he tripped. The elf made him keep drinking. His throat burned. He needed water. The faces of those that had fallen by his hand flashed before his eyes. His regrets took over as he downed the goblet-full of liquid despair.
He wouldn't ever save his brother. His brother was happier without him. He was a coward. He needed water. He would never be brave or free, like his brother. He needed water. His heart and throat burned. He fell to the lake to drink and the hands grabbed him, dragging him into the water.
His brother's face flashed before him and blurred. He heard his brother's laugh, distorted by the water. He struggled and turned but all he saw were dead faces. He couldn't breathe. He was a coward. The skull on his forearm grinned at him as the green water faded to black and his body sank to join the others. A forgotten coward, lying dead at the bottom of a lake.
His brother heard of his death and thought little of it. He hadn't thought of his little brother for months, he was going to be a godfather. He never found the note that his brother had left. His brother remained an arrogant coward in the only eyes that mattered to him.
The hat had told him to be brave. His brother said he never was.