"Sir'" the younger boy whispered, his hand grasping at the elder's sleeve. They were both crouched by the bushes on the side of the house, mere steps away from the sidewalk. Once they stepped out of the property lines, seeming to appear out of nowhere between the seamless townhouses, their parents would feel the wards, and they would have to run for it. "Sir,' Mummy and Daddy said no. We're going to get into trouble."

A young Sirius Black turned and looked over his shoulder at the boy who, in those days, could pass as his miniature, and grinned, though there was a sharp, childish impatience to the expression. "Come on, Reg. It won't be too bad, and they're playing football! You said you wanted to try. I reckon it's even more fun than Quidditch," he continued, now looking at the children in the park across the street longingly, "all that running, yeah?"

Regulus sighed, squirming closer to his brother's back. He didn't want to be too far behind when they ran. Despite his sigh, he wriggled excitedly and couldn't help agreeing with his brother. "Yeah." One nod from the littlest, and the argument was over. They were in it together.

"Ready?" The moment he could feel his brother nod against his shoulder, the older boy dove forward into a sprint. There were no cars around, and they both ran straight across the street toward the park, the younger trailing behind much less than it seemed like he should; he was smaller but quite fast. They didn't slow until their feet finally reached the grassy lawn of the park, and the younger brother tumbled into the other's back before catching himself.

"Sir,' look!" he whispered excitedly, grasping at his brother's sleeve again and pointing quickly at a group of boys a few yards away kicking around a black and white ball. It wasn't checkered, exactly, and the design was very strange, but Regulus wanted to try badly. It looked like great fun. He was practically bouncing in his place in the grass.

"Let's go join them." The eldest stepped forward purposely, but the youngest hesitated for a moment as if realizing that they might not be welcome or perhaps just feeling shy. Eventually, though, he ran to catch up with his brother, and they walked over to the group together. "Alright?" Sirius called out to the player closest to them. She kicked the ball away before turning to them.

"Alright," she replied before cocking her head lightly. "You want to play?" She asked, looking the two boys up and down. They looked almost exactly the same, so it would be a good idea to put them on the same side. The younger boy nodded first with such shy enthusiasm that she had to smile at him. "Go on that side," she said, pointing, "and get the ball into that net," she pointed again. "No hitting," she added, "and no hands."

The younger boy was used to being bossed around and nodded with another smile before easily going to join the children on his side. He paused, though, when he realized his older brother had not done the same, instead giving the girl in front of him a critical look. "Siri," the younger brother whined quietly so that no one but his brother and the girl would hear him. He wanted to play. When his brother joined him, the game, which had paused for a moment while everyone had watched the exchange, continued.

A half hour or so of the day passed happily this way. The two boys laughed and booed with the rest of their team during mess ups, triumphs, and losses. The younger one proved his worth by being able to out-sprint and, thanks to his small size, out-maneuver most of the other boys, and made quite a few goals. It didn't last forever though, and the eldest brother was in the middle of trying to fight the ball away from another boy on the opposing team when all of the children, the younger brother most especially, went still.

A woman was stalking toward them all, dressed very strangely in a robe that was too long to be a bathrobe and too grand to be a graduation robe. She was tall and imposing, and the children around the two brothers thought that she was quite the spectacle. A few of the children giggled, but then crowded close together. She was very frightening, and the look on her face said clearly that she didn't care for a single one of them one bit. "Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus Black!" She shrieked when she was close enough. This caused some more giggles, this time at the boys, and the younger brother ducked his head and blushed. "Get over here!"

The younger brother scampered over without hesitation, but the older one set his jaw and pouted for a moment before walking over slower, his body language straight and proud. The woman grabbed both of the boy's arms viciously and marched them away—out of the park, across the street, and back to the invisible house that no one knew existed. The children left behind looked around at each other, shrugged or laughed, and went back to their play. The adults exchanged skeptical glances before going back to talking or reading their books or magazines.

The two boys exchanged glances, one guilty and one triumphant, and each silently thought that it wasn't so bad being sent up to their room after all since they had each other there anyway, even if Phineas Nigellus would tell on anything they did. It was just a shame that they didn't get supper.

:::

Regulus stared into the fire, nursing a large mug of firewhiskey as he ignored the talk of the others around him. Those boys had existed so long ago and had changed so much that Regulus had trouble even assigning names to them. A younger brother and an older one and only a few signs in sight that one would be a blood traitor and the other would be… what was he exactly? Monster. Hero. Murderer. Soldier. Too many conflicting words sped through his mind. And yet how conflicting were they, really? Each of them could only be separated from the other by the mere technicality and subjectivity of morality.

"If it weren't you, I'd ask why you were moping."

"Are you implying that you know me so well that you know why or are you implying that I mope as others breathe?"

"Both." The voice behind him laughed, and its owner came into his view before sitting down next to him on the black leather sofa complemented by green and silver throw pillows—Malfoy Manor had a sitting room almost ridiculously reminiscent of the Slytherin common room. Objectively, he knew she was quite attractive; glossy, dark brown hair and round brown eyes the color of melted chocolate. Her skin was light, but golden, and that and the somewhat thick jawline made Regulus suspect she had some Italian in her though they'd never happened to speak of it, not even after their parents had met up at the most intimate of dinner parties to discuss the marriage they'd arranged. "It's that idiotic brother of yours isn't it?" Alecto asked.

Regulus simply shrugged, looking away from her and back into the flames. He would wed her of course, and he'd known that since he'd been sixteen and she'd been seventeen, but no matter how often or for how long he looked at her, it would only ever be because of duty. The spark of fire in her warm eyes did nothing for him, and the dull shine of it in his grey did nothing for her. They both knew it, and they both accepted it.

"I saw you two fighting," she remarked before stealing a sip of his whiskey. Regulus put a hand up between them when she offered it back and let her keep it. "You're much more still. Languid. It's actually quite attractive."

Again, Regulus said nothing. He didn't want to think of his brother. He didn't want to think of the special hatred and betrayal that flashed through his brother's when nearly identical eyes met, one pair shadowed by nothing but hair, the other pair shadowed by a mask. It made his skin crawl and his stomach tighten. Whether it was with disgust, anxiety, anger, or some combination of the three, Regulus did not know.

"Would you kill him, Regulus?" She asked, her voice quiet and curious rather than challenging. She wanted to know the real answer and Regulus knew that, despite their lack of love, there was enough loyalty—some out of fear of social retribution and some born of actual respect—there that she would tell no one if he said no.

"I'm sworn to do whatever my Lord asks of me," Regulus responded simply, meeting her eyes steadily as he took the mug back to take a long sip. He handed it back and watched as she smiled wryly. She knew as well as he did what such an indirect answer meant. It meant that Regulus had no idea.