Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.
His hands shook. Regulus had always known that when it came to heroics, Sirius was the chosen one, but he couldn't help wondering if his brother would be proud of him. Probably not. In the end, Regulus was choosing to run away, and not to a bright future of glory like Sirius, but to a life of darkness.
Thinking of the water, his heart beat fast and he felt like he would never escape the deep.
"Kreacher," he rasped, breaking through the house-elf's sobs. "Kreacher, you must tell everyone that I am dead." He swallowed thickly. "If – If anyone finds out about the Horcrux, tell them I drowned. Don't let them know you Apparated us out."
The words tasted like ash on his tongue, but Regulus knew this was the right choice for him. He couldn't be a part of the war. Not for either side. Kreacher would see to the end of the Horcrux while Regulus would leave Britain and find a new place for himself. He would step over the water and be free.
Hearing about Sirius' imprisonment was shocking, but even knowing his brother incapable of betraying James Potter, Regulus couldn't bring himself to reveal his own identity to save him. He couldn't take part in the aftermath of the war, where the two sides sought control, and that was why he instead went to the pub. It was when his vision was blurry that she approached him.
"Maia Delacour," she introduced herself.
She thought it was funny when he told her she was named after one of the stars. Her laughing brown eyes invited him into their depths, and Regulus felt like he was drowning all over again.
"He's only two years older than Caelum," said Maia, "and he's in the same tournament as my niece."
Regulus stared at Harry Potter in the picture of the Tri-Wizard Champions. He had never thought his two lives would ever intersect like this. Despite being married for ten years now, Maia had never tried to bring up his past.
"There's something you need to know about me," he said at last.
James felt like he was going nowhere as the train rounded the bend. The confident smile he put on for show slipped from his face. With a sigh, he turned from the window and pulled his trunk down the aisle. Stopping by Teddy's compartment, he saw Teddy and Victoire snogging and decided to continue on. It was a long way down the train before he found a compartment that had only a single boy inside it.
"Mind if I join you?" James asked.
The boy looked up, sweeping shaggy black hair out of his eyes. "Go ahead," he said, gesturing to the seat across from him.
He had a trace of an accent that made James ask if he was French.
"Yeah, but my grandpere is English," the boy replied. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Sirius. Sirius Black."
James gaped at him. "Are you serious?"
Whispers sprung up out of the dreadful silence when Sirius' name was called. They only grew when he was Sorted into Slytherin.
James bit his lip. On the train they had discussed their potential houses. When James confessed that his entire family was in Gryffindor, Sirius had urged him to break the tradition, especially after founding out how James was often ignored in favor of his younger brother.
The Hat seemed to agree with Sirius, for it murmured to James, "You need to make your own identity in…SLYTHERIN!"
When Regulus read the letter from his grandson, he kept having bursts of laughter for days. It seemed that until the end of the world, Sirius Black and James Potter would always find each other.
AN: Alternative title - I refuse to accept that all of the Blacks are dead.
Also this has nothing to do with my other stories.
