Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Alas….

Author's Note: Oho, I'm still alive. XD

I NEVER abandon fics. I just get reeeeeeaaaallly lazy and need people to continually harass me. Thank you Unkempt Mind, who has been pestering me for the better part of 2 years. XDDD

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I greatly appreciate your feedback and hope you're still interested.

And on with the show!


What REALLY Happened:

Regulus blinked furiously. What an AWFUL day. It was supposed to be the flawless start to the undoubtedly brilliant rest of his life.

He should've been sitting at the Slytherin table right now, lamenting his success with his housemates.

Instead he was dirty, damp, disheveled and missing his left shoe…and there were puddles…EVERYWHERE.

His poor foot was soaked and the hair glamour charm Maman had used on him was wearing off—his fringe kept falling into his face.

And every time he pushed it out of the way, he caught sight of his cuffs. Reminding him how he'd lost his right cufflink in his mad dash from the alley—he'd gotten this set for Christmas last year…and now…

He sniffled.

Ruined. He whimpered. EVERYTHING was ruined. He stifled a soft sob. And who knew when things would be right again.

Some hero he'd turned out to be.


James swallowed nervously. His best mate had a wild look in his eyes; more deranged than he'd ever seen, which was quite a feat as he and Sirius have been on all sorts of misadventures.

James supposed he should've known that when Sirius told Regulus he was "on his way" he MEANT it.

Though in reality, he'd thought it was the empty sort of promise anyone with half a heart pledges to a desperate soul in anguish.

Apparently not: and now there was no reasoning with Sirius.

When asked what he planned to do.

Sirius replied evenly, detachedly, simply that he needed "to get OFF the train."

What a horrid day: As if watching the abduction wasn't terrifying enough, now James was subjected to witnessing Black Family insanity firsthand.

Sure he'd heard whispers of it before, but he'd never really believed it.

Til now…

James gulped as Sirius jerked the compartment door leading out of the train car.

His friend stepped out into the space between cars, surveying the landscape speeding by.

It wasn't terribly unusual for students to stand here for a beautiful view and fresh air.

Especially for Purebloods who were often fascinated/repulsed by Muggle technology—as though they couldn't quite believe that a metal box could glide on metal tracks.

Sirius turned smiling, hand gripping his broomstick tightly.

"So we'll need to jump off" he stated amicably. "If we start on our brooms we'll catch everyone's attention and the adults will stop us."

The train was passing through fields of tall grass and wildflowers—Sirius' stormy eyes bore into his own—it was the best time to jump, they both knew it.

James slid his hand over his broom, well-polished wood beneath his fingers—it was a special, highline racebroom, it wasn't supposed to be knocked around and dragged through brush.

The bespectacled boy fidgeted—they'd finally found an adventure too reckless even for him…Hell had frozen over.

"S-sirius? I-I don't know-" His hazel eyes scanned the swiftly moving ground, no matter HOW you looked at it (or landed on it) it would be a HARD impact.

"Come ON James, I thought we were best mates" Sirius intoned darkly.

But this wasn't sneaking around Hogwarts in the dead of night, or pilfering from the kitchens, or spelltaping KICK-ME signs to Filch's back…this was dangerous.

This was…Crazy.

"James" He hissed; face not half as handsome and benign as it was a few seconds ago.

Wrathful, disdainful, powerful…and dreadfully familiar…

In that moment, James Potter had a revelation: Sirius really WAS a Black. Fitting into his family tree so seamlessly that James wondered how he ever saw him as separate from it.

It made something in his stomach twist.


Lily lurched to a halt behind the two boys, hands on the door frame. Her instincts were right!

That whole "Snape and Evans go talk to Cissy, see if she's learned anything" was a load of bullocks!

"What are you two doing?" she glanced at the brooms in their hands, putting two and two together instantly "Are you crazy?" Lily whispered breathlessly from the doorway.

"Shove off Evans" Black growled.

"No" she scowled "You aren't thinking this through. Y-your mind's-" she paused, trying to phrase her statement more tactfully "understandably frazzled, you should sit down. I'll get a counselor, y-you need to talk this out."

"They're right Sirius. This is mad-" James murmured

"But brilliant and it WILL work-" Sirius argued steadfastly. "I KNOW it will. I KNOW it."

"Siriu-"

"I gave my word" was the stony reply.

"Don't be a dolt, Black" Snape sneered, slinking up beside his red-haired companion. Clearly he'd been in no rush to rejoin the drama, "Think of your family. I highly doubt they need TWO dead sons."

"He's NOT dead! I JUST spoke to him! Y-You heard him yourself! He's f-fine! And he'll stay that way till I get there! H-he said he'd be careful. I-I made him promise!"

Snape scoffed "Oh but of course, how could I forget? The mighty Sirius Black has deemed it so and so it shall be. Heh, last I checked 'I promise' wasn't a good countercurse for 'Avada Kedavra.'"

Sirius whipped out his wand.

"Don't!" Lily shrieked. "Just calm down already! This won't help a thing!" She leveled a dark glare at Snape who shrugged nonchalantly—though his fingers were inching slowly toward his pocket.

The Slytherin third-year did his best to seem unmoved, but truth be told he was eyeing his enemy's wand rather anxiously. All that stress needed a vent, and it seemed Black was eager to forgo his usual goal of humiliation in favor of mutilation.

He might've had nothing on Bellatrix Black, but Snape would bet his life her cousin knew more than his fair share of dark spells.

Protego, Snape kept chanting in his mind, Protego, fingers finally brushing against his wand.

"Filth, scum, slime," Sirius muttered angrily under his breath. "Scourge of the earth, perfidious-"

James blinked, wondering idly if his friend knew how much he resembled his dear, sweet mother right then. Ahhh, family traits…no one reeeeallly ever escaped them…

"No good, lying fu-"

"Stop!" Lily ordered, breathing heavily. "Or-or I-I'll scream."

She nodded succinctly, a confident 'you know I will' air about her.

"You do and I'll hex your face off," No playful tone, no mischievous smile. He meant it.

"Don't talk like that to her!"

"How dare you address her that way!"

And suddenly all the boys were ready to duel.

Lily held her breath, fearful that even the slightest move on her part would be the trigger to complete pandemonium.

"Let him go" another voice piped in, entering the scene. Remus appraised them, face set aloof—a perfect contrast to the petrified look gracing Peter.

Lupin had known the moment Sirius requested he and Pete grab them some treats from the Trolley Witch. The whole "can't think on an empty stomach" bit that he was plotting something. Anyone who knew Sirius was aware that while the boy could tuck in like no one's business, he could never eat while he was upset.

"James, Snape, Evans let him go" Remus repeated.

"Remus, have you gone bonkers too?"

"You're not going to stop him James, this is Sirius and he's made up his mind. He'll climb out a window if he has to. So just…let him do this."

"Thank you Remus, I-"

"-I'm not agreeing with you Sirius, your plan is insane. But you're going to follow it regardless. The rest of us needn't be casualties."

The Black pursed his lips, scowling deeply before abandoning the expression and adopting arrogant indifference.

"If anyone asks, you didn't see me. Swear it!"

"Siriu-"

"All of you! Swear it!" He ordered vehemently.

A chorus of "Fiiine" sounded.

And considering the matter done and over with, Sirius jumped.


Regulus kept sticking his hand in his pocket, fingers tracing the small mirror there. He'd only stuck it in his pocket this morning, after realizing belatedly that there really was no more room left in his trunk.

It was the only bit of good luck he'd had thus far.

And he couldn't get over how clever his brother had been to have thought of contacting him this way.

He should've thought of it. It was in HIS pocket after all. Though in his defense, it WAS rather difficult maintaining one's sense of cunning while sprinting desperately for one's life.

It'd been so good to see his brother in spite of how brief their conversation was.

Wandering aimlessly through some unknown muggle city was disconcerting to say the least. His brother was sooo familiar, unusually solemn, but familiar. And it…eased him a bit…and at this point he'd take whatever comfort he could get.

He gripped the mirror, seriously considering calling him…except…Sirius always hated being bothered multiple times. HE liked to do the calling…Sirius was bossy like that.

But surely being chased by a Dark Wizard was cause for alarm. Would it be terribly childish of him to seek more reassurance from his brother?

He flushed as he thought of all the times he'd fled to his brother's room in the grips of night terrors.

His dreams just seemed so real! And scary! A-and…no wonder their family always called him the baby.

He acted like one.

Sirius wouldn't have been afraid back there. His brother didn't GET scared. Bravest wizard he knew.

His eyes blurred as he pulled the mirror out and stared at it—willing the action to be enough.

Security Blanket, he thought dejectedly, pathetic Reg…really pathetic.

His brother had made it especially for them…used to be exclusively for them till he made one for Potter.

And just like that…all the novelty of it vanished.

He supposed, in some way, the same was true of himself.

The novelty of having a younger brother must have worn off.

Sad because Cissy said Sirius would strut about with him in tow when he was very small, announcing him as his little brother to anyone who'd listen. Been very proud of the fact…

Sometimes Regulus rather envied his brother: he could remember a BEFORE where Sirius was ONLY Sirius and nothing more.

For Regulus there had ALWAYS been a Sirius. Every aspect of his life was impacted by that. His memories all comprised of "them" and "together" and "they." For heaven's sake as a toddler he'd learned to say "We" before "I."

There was always an AND for him. Siri AND Reggie was written on the back of all their photos—because you never saw one without the other.

And now that he was JUST Regulus...He felt awfully alone.

He'd never thought Sirius could just…tire of him one day…like a book he's read so often and become sick of.

But now…after being…shelved and collecting dust…their brotherhood and friendship which Sirius had once assured him would be everlasting, seemed shallow and unfulfilling.

Forever, he'd found, was an awfully short amount of time.

Regulus sighed staring up into a dark, stormy sky. Just what he needed: rain. And if the loud rolls of thunder were anything to judge by, there was going to be a lot of it.

Pretty soon he'd need to find somewhere to take shelter…but…well…everything was sooo terribly muggle. And…not that he'd EVER admit it…but the whole witch persecution thing cropped up in his brain every time he saw a muggle.

Not every witch and wizard who was caught was OLD enough to know the Flame-Freezing Charm.

But good luck finding that unfortunate tidbit in Hogwarts' censored, "muggle-friendly" textbooks.

Good God, the Ministry of Magic was spiraling downward.

"Ran by optimistic fools," his father would say. "They think if they omit the truth and ban every source as intolerant and outdated. They can warp the world into some twisted Faerie Tale. They'll make us the villains you mark my words."

"The Old Families will remember" his mother replied, sighing as she ran a hand over an old 14th Century branch of their Family Tapestry.

Her manicured fingers gently tracing three young faces. Not one over ten. All snatched out of bed by their superstitious muggle nanny while their parents attended an evening Winter Solstice Festival.

Burned together in the village square amidst a jeering crowd…

Naturally their family's vengeance was swift and merciless.

So the Blacks might've had a hand in spreading the plague there (earning a double meaning for the phrase "The Black Death.")

Stupid filthy muggles got what they deserved.

Bugger! His sock had a hole in it now!

Plat! A raindrop fell squarely on his nose.

He glowered at the sky as the downpour began.

Worst. Day. Ever. In the history of his life. Eleven whole years and he'd NEVER had a day as bad as this.

Not even the time Bella locked him in Aunt Cassi's basement with a dying house-elf. Her reasoning was that Death was part of Life and everyone needed to understand it. It sounded more awful than it was; it's not like she'd even maimed it or anything. Twixelnoff was just old…reeeeeeeeaaaalllly old and it was "his time."

Now…don't misunderstand…he was repulsive to behold, a skeletal thing with baggy folds of wrinkled skin and a foul odor about him.

But…that was the end of it…he was old and smelly…and a house-elf, just like Kreacher…but different…not better, not worse…just different…and he felt a pang of remorse that he'd never seen him in his prime.

His accent and speaking manner were well-polished, he was a smart elf—most likely an excellent servant—hence, why Auntie Cassi waited right until now to hire a new one.

It had coughed and twitched; bemoaning his inability to get him tea, which Regulus assured him was quite alright—he found the stuff horrid tasting. Much preferred hot cocoa thank you very much.

Which amused the elf to no end—apparently tea was a staple for Black Family households. The creature remarked on changing times and they passed the next two hours speaking quietly…until he died.

It was long, a trifle awkward, sad and…important just as Bella had stated.

It had NOTHING on today. Death and the possibility OF dying were two VASTLY different things. And now he knew that the amount of terror one felt all depended on where you were standing in relation to them.

He was NOT old. It should NOT be his time.

He held the mirror tightly to his narrow chest.

Sirius made him promise to stay safe until he got there. Said he was coming…but…he was on a train. By the time he reached Hogwarts, snuck out, and traveled to…well…wherever Regulus was…it'd take days! And that's assuming no one got in his way, or that he didn't have anything better to do than save his dumb younger brother.

Another wave of self-pity washed over him, what had he been thinking? Like his eleven-year-old self would be up to tackling a Dark Wizard.

And now his brother was going to be dragged into all of this (assuming he really WAS on his way.)

If only he had his wand, but he hadn't thought he'd need it on a train ride. It was safely packed in his trunk along with all sorts of other useful things. If only he had it! He could just contact the Knight Bus and be on his merry way! What sort of wizard doesn't keep his wand with him at all times?

Maybe his brother was right: Maybe he was no good at this kind of stuff. Maybe he was no good at-at ANYTHING. Maybe it was just as well he never reached Hogwarts.

After all, when you got right down to it—his obituary would certainly be more interesting and less disgraceful for his family.

'Death by Dark Wizard' was far more impressive than 'Unsortable; Eaten by Hat."

He was heading to what he recognized as a liquor store, he'd been in one once with Uncle Alphard. The cashier wouldn't bother you so long as you were actively inspecting his wares.

He was nearly there, nose already wrinkling at the sight of peeling paint and the bright neon lights of the OPEN sign, ones that kept buzzing chaotically as several bulbs flirted with the idea of burning out on the spot.

When a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist wrenching him backwards—the adult's grip painfully tight and unyielding...

"Gotcha!"


R & R Please! : D