That Is What People Do

Dear Barty it said on top of the parchment, but the words were scratched through. The paper was rippled and in some places the ink had been in contact with water, tears, so that the words were impossible to decipher correctly. It seemed like the hand of the writer had been shaking badly and like he had written it under pressure and in the light of the lantern posts in front of the shattered window.

Barty

This time there was merely a little drop of black ink next to the name like he had considered what to write for a short moment. Was there anything to consider at all? Did it even matter what he would write down?

I should probably say I am sorry and that nothing of this is your fault. Sounds like I would break-up with you... Yes, indeed, I am breaking-up with you because you cannot accompany me. Not anymore. I do not want you to accompany me.
I have to do it alone. Do you even understand this word: A-L-O-N-E, which means that you will not follow me wherever I go and will not do anything in order to safe me!
I cannot be saved, Barty, we both know that. I do not want to be saved. In retrospective, I was stupid and foolish to join up in the first place.

I am facing death, my dear friend, my only and best friend. But you have so much to live for even if it does not seem like it. Please, do it for me. Please, live.
I cannot. I tried to. I really did and I enjoyed the years I had, in particular those you were generous enough to share with me. But I always knew somewhere in the back of my head I would not live as long as others, especially in comparison to other magical people.
I did not deserve any of the affection, friendship and love you gave me.
How will I ever be able to return them to you? I genuinely do not know. And I can think of anything to make up for it.

There is nothing I could do to reduce the pain you will, perhaps, or should I say hopefully, go through when you are standing next to my grave. In the unlikely case I will actually get one. You know how beloved traitors are and I am afraid I am already one.

Yet I can say that you were the only reason I stayed alive until now, that I have not given myself up and not will I do now. Even if it seems like what I am about to do is nothing but suicide. It is something that simple has to be done. Do not laugh; I have finally become one of those foolish people who do sacrifice themselves for the sake of others. The five galleons I owe you for this one are in the drawer of your beside cabinet.

I am sorry, Barty. I never thought I would end up writing this letter to you. I intended to leave our flat and never to return, but I think I could not leave without saying anything at all.
You were the best friend I ever had. The most loyal, clever, caring, beautiful and so unique and important friend.
I was so lonely and so alone. I owe you so much, and the only regret I have, now that I can count the hours left to me on my finger, is that I have to leave you behind.

If I could I would turn back time ensure you did not befriend me on our first train ride to Hogwarts so that you would not be touched by my death.

Do you still remember the countless nights we spent wide awake, lying next to each other holding our hands, because we feared the next day? And that all the things we dreamt of, all the pain, the fears, the nightmares were real? I do not think I have ever told you how much this meant to me. How much you mean to me! You made my nightmares fade and caused the hallucinations to go away.
Can you still recall our drunken moments? I still know some of those things we did when we drank too much because we wanted to drown our pain. Sometimes it worked.
Do you remember when you wrapped your cloak around me, though we barely knew our names, and the moment when you handed me back my diary with the words "I think this belongs to you." Do you remember my answer?

It was almost impossible to read the words now.

I said "Your hand, too?" And you gave me your hand. I do not think I have ever been so happy in my entire life. You were the first who made me feel like I was wanted and not like all the others needed in case something would happen to Sirius. You were the first not to regard me as an emergency replacement.
Barty, I know I have never told you but I only know what happiness is because you showed me.
I am so grateful that you were there for me when no one else was and that you never left like others did.

I love you, Barty. You are my best friend and if you will have to torture me then do it.
I would forgive you everything. Please stay safe and in His grace.

I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me.

In love
Regulus A. Black 13th November 1979

The letter almost slipped through Barty Crouch Junior's numb fingers and he stood up abruptly. This had to be a joke! It had to be. It was one of the few times he felt something like fear. Cold fear. This kind of fear which makes your heart beat faster, your breathing hitched and causes the hair in your neck to stand up.
"Black, what the hell?" he whispered. There was the trace of disappointment, fear and anger in his voice. The flat remained eerily quiet. Horror crept into Barty's heart. He was too late. Regulus was already gone and… dead. He had to- A soft creak of a wooden floorboard sounded from upstairs and it sent shivers down Barty's spine. A burglar or..? His eyes fell onto a dark coat at the end of the hallway. Regulus! Without letting go off the letter Bart ran up the stairs.
The note had been lying under Bart's pillow and it was a huge coincidence he had come back from a mission a few minutes ago and was in dire need of some rest. How could Regulus actually believe it was right to leave him behind like this? Stupid idiot.

Upstairs Regulus cast a last reassuring glance around the room. Everything was neatly put away and cleaned. No one would know what a decision he had made in here. He inhaled sharply as he saw someone out of the corner of his eyes.
"What-" he began. His voice trailed off as he saw Barty holding the note in his hand. His best friend had somehow managed to find his note. Well, damn.
"What is this?" asked Barty and waved the parchments in his hands with a look on his face like the papers were poisoned.
The words stuck in Regulus' throat. He did not want to put his Barty in danger. There was no way he could tell him about the cave and the locket. He lowered his eyes and Barty stepped closer. He embraced Regulus tightly, kissed his forehead and then embraced him again with the intention never to let go. All Regulus could do was return the contact.
"My note..." he muttered into Barty's ear, "that's what people do... leaving a note."

Eventually they reluctantly let go of each other and Regulus fled the flat before Barty could coax him to reconsider his decision. Barty could persuade anyone to do anything, but Regulus had lived with him long enough to withstand Barty's charming words that he used like a spider web. It needed to be done. Doing it would maybe make up for all the things he had and had not done in the name of pureblood supremacy and in the belief to be better than others. He had been wrong his whole life. Maybe one day he would be forgiven.