Chapter 18: Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any part, the characters and the HP universe all still belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Last I checked. * sighs in disappointment *

A/N: Here we go again! TW: Brief description of child abuse, nothing graphic but worth a warning anyway I'd say. Take care. Another shorter one, but I felt like this POV deserved it's own chapter.

A/N: TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY – I'VE LOST ALL SELF-CONTROL!

Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland, March 14th 1975

My heart,

I hope this missive finds you well, and in good spirits. Your father and I miss you dearly. I cry for you often, my darling boy, trapped in that Manor with your grandfather. A most disagreeable man to be sure, but he is your Head of House, so I find there is very little I can do to bring you home where you belong.

Perhaps you can appeal to him? I know that he respects your opinion, as well anyone with a modicum of intelligence should. And no-one could accuse Arcturus of stupidity, that I will allow. Grimmauld place feels empty without my two boys there to keep me company. Kreacher, the wretched little thing, has been next to useless without you around, and your father spends most of his time sulking in his study, bemoaning the loss of his son and heir. The sentimental fool even misses the other one. Oh blast that horrible child for bringing such ruin upon our house! I dare not even write his name for fear that I will scorch the parchment with the heat of my rage.

Tell me, how is Cepheus? How is my boy? Just as all of my letters to you, my letters to him have gone unanswered. Are you on orders from your grandfather not to contact me? I know you must be, you were always such n obedient child, so sweetly obliging. Never fear my little prince, I know that you would write me if you could. I heard from Aunt Cassiopeia that you made Seeker for the Ravenclaw team. I know you must still be terribly disappointed that it's not Slytherin, but never underestimate the value of a keen mind or a quick wit. You shall be a boon to Ravenclaw house, of that I have no doubt. I have sent along your favourite treacle fudge courtesy of Kreacher to congratulate you.

I hope to hear from you soon,

All my love,

Mother

Regulus swore and crumpled the parchment into a ball before promptly setting it on fire, watching it turn to ash as he lamented his situation. It was unlike him to allow such an obvious show of emotion, but he knew that his brother was looking over from his place at the Gryffindor table, and felt that it was important for Sirius to know where he stood; firmly by his side. No matter how much he missed his parents. And he did miss them, fiercely, despite everything.

He knew that he shouldn't, though. These past few years he had started to see that his mother was a truly disturbed woman. He still had nightmares sometimes about the darkly elated look on her face as Sirius' screams rent the air. Her face had been red, upper lip wet with perspiration as her pupils expanded, blown so wide they almost swallowed her entire iris. She had been grinning, baring her teeth in satisfaction as her middle son cried and bled on the floor at her feet. The louder he had sobbed, the wider she had smiled, the more faraway the look in his father's eyes had grown as he stood there. Doing nothing.

As for Regulus, he had been rooted to the spot, frozen by fear. It was as though every one of his muscles had been petrified, his insides turned to ice as his heart beat mercilessly against his chest. He had never felt so small or so weak in his life, desperate to reach out, to stop it, but unable to do anything but stand there. It wasn't until she abandoned the wand altogether, dragging the boy up by the roots of his hair, slapping him so hard the sound echoed around the drawing room with a loud crack, that he was catapulted into action.

He had to find someone, anyone. But who could help? He knew that he wasn't supposed to discuss family business in front of strangers, but there were strangers everywhere at the Yule party. He ran and ran until his lungs burned, determined to grab the first person in the family he could find. After a few eternal minutes he found Ceph, talking to the pretty witch with too much hair.

"Mother...Sirius...in the drawing room, she was...hurting him." he had managed to choke out. Thankfully they had managed to get to him in time before any irreparable damage was done. In reality.

In his dreams though, he kept running and running, for hours as the the empty wood-finished hallways stretched out endlessly before him until he ended up back in the study where the floors ran red. He would collapse, out of breath, into a pool of blood, reaching out to touch the cold, pale hand of his older brother. The thing haunted him more than anything though, was that in the dream, even in death, Sirius was smiling.

He would always wake up, drenched in sweat, his face wet with tears. Thank Merlin for the Silencing charms Hermione had taught him to put around his bed when he had told her about the nightmares. She was the only one who knew, and he hadn't even told her on purpose. She had stumbled into the kitchens in the middle of one night in November of his first year while he had been there getting hot chocolate from the elves. Chatting to them had always cheered him up.

"Reggie? What are you doing up at this time?"

He smiled as he took in her dishevelled appearance; her already wild hair was sticking up at odd angles, her wrinkled pink pyjamas slightly too short at the ankles and covered in a faded pattern of frogs. Her grey holey t-shirt looked to be about three sizes too large and read "Harley! Made in Milwaukee".

"I could ask you the same question."

She looked startled by his response and he smiled wider. Apparently to catch Hermione Snape off guard all one had to do was catch her first thing in the morning. Or in this case, in the middle of the night.

"Ah, fair enough. I couldn't sleep, you?"

He frowned slightly. She always seemed so put together, what could possibly be keeping her up at night?

"Same, just thought I'd come for a cup of hot chocolate and a bit of a chin wag with the night-shift elves. They always have the best stories."

The youngest elf, Turvy, giggled and blushed as she magically dried and folded a mountain of crisp white sheets. "Oh, young Master Black is too kind. We is always happy to be having him here. Even when we knows he is supposed to be being in his bed!" She said the last park with a mock glare.

Hermione beamed. "I know they do. It's because this castle isn't nearly as quiet as it should be of an evening, and the elves see everything."

"Miss Hermione is being a very smart witch. Will you be wanting any marshy-mallows on your hot chocolate?"

"That would be perfect. Thanks Turvy."

"Oh yous is both being very polite, isn't you?" She shot the pair a happy grin as she snapped her gnarled little fingers, making a mug of perfectly warm sweet liquid appear in front of the girl sitting at the bench opposite.

"So Reg, tell me, what's keeping you up this fine evening?" He thought for a moment about lying, fobbing her off with some off-handed excuse, but something made him stop. There was a certain knowing look in her eye, an air of tired recognition and shared experience that told him she knew exactly what was robbing him of sleep. And so he told her everything, barely sparing a second to be embarrassed when slow tears started to slip down his cheeks.

And why should he be embarrassed? He thought to himself suddenly, its fucking sad. I'm sad and for once in my life I'll have a little cry if I want to. And he did.

After he shared everything with her, she'd shared a few of her own nightmares. He had a feeling that like his, a lot of them were more memory than dream. She wiped his eyes and taught him the silencing charms on the condition that he promised to come to her for some Dreamless Sleep if he ever needed it. He agreed, and after that they had become fast friends. They shared secrets, gossiped and bonded over too many late night kitchen runs and passionate discussions on House-Elf Rights. There wasn't much he didn't share with her, and she in turn confided in him about her nightmares, about Remus, and more recently about her fears for the future.

For the first time, in perhaps his entire life, he could honestly say he had one person outside of his own family he could trust with anything. It was incredibly comforting to have a friend. That was why he found himself getting up from the Ravenclaw table, vanishing the smouldering ruins of his mothers rambling letter, and exiting the Great Hall towards the library in search of Hermione. He was half way down the first-floor corridor when he heard sniffling coming from the small window seat to his left.

He turned his head towards the noise, only to be met bya most surprising sight. His fellow Ravenclaw and dorm-mate, Rabastan Lestrange. Rab was a pureblood boy, one more carefully stoic than any of the Black brothers on any given day, and yet here he was crying openly in the middle of a corridor, letter clutched so tightly in his had that his knuckles were turning white.

Regulus was stunned. What could possibly have caused this? He had known Rab his entire life. They had never been friends necessarily, but they had attended all of the same events growing up and had played together as young boys. Never in all that time, not even when they had been very small children, had he seen the boy so much as frown, let alone cry. Something must be very wrong.

Considering, not for the first time, that he may be spending too much time with Gryffindors, he lifted the boy by the collar of his robes and pulled him into an empty classroom nearby, immediately setting every privacy ward he could think of over the entrance. And there were a lot he could think of. Grandfather, Cepheus and Hermione had each been teaching him wards individually. Not that any of them knew that, but Regulus felt than one could never know too many spells.

"What the hell are you playing at Black?" Rab snarled, his red puffy eyes somewhat dulling the intimidating effect he was obviously trying to give off.

Regulus just smiled kindly, hoping he looked reassuring rather than just barmy.

"There, I've put up a fortress-load of wards. Now you can have your cry in private without anyone bothering you."

Ah, barmy it is then, he thought to himself. The look the other boy was giving him would have been comical if his hands weren't still shaking.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't crying."

He sighed, it wasn't as though he had expected anything different he supposed. All purebloods were the same, himself included.

"Okay then." He shrugged, "I just thought you could use some privacy, but I'll take the wards down if you want."

The other boy just stared at him, confusion visible in his deep brown eyes. They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither making any effort to move towards the door. It wasn't long until the boy couldn't hold it back anymore and his lip started to tremble as his eyes filled with tears. He sagged down into the chair Regulus had hastily fetched for him, burying his head in his hands as his dark hair flopped over his face. Unsure what to do now, Regulus hesitantly placed a hand on the boys shaking shoulders.

He wished he was better equipped to offer him comfort, but in truth he was very new to this business of emotional honesty and wasn't sure how to proceed.

"It's from my brother." Rabastan said after a while, nodding his head to indicate the letter he still held in his hands.

"Oh?" Regulus had to suppress a shudder at the thought of Rodolphus Lestrange. He was an intimidating man, with cruel eyes and a sharp voice that sounded like splinters. He'd been mightily upset when cousin Bella had been betrothed to him, almost as upset as she had been. For all her faults, she had always been kind to him, and he had hated to see her married off to that brute.

It had all been arranged rather quickly, and through a slightly more mature perspective he had figured out that Uncle Cygnus had caught her kissing her childhood friend Amaia Shafiq at a Summer Ball, and married her off as quickly as possible to avoid a scandal. He still remembered the way she had cried the night before her wedding. Horrible, piteous keening that made him cover his head with a pillow just to muffle the sound.

Any man that could reduce Trixie to tears wasn't a man to be trifled with.

"Yeah," he sniffed, swiping furiously at his eyes. "Apparently father passed away last week."

Regulus' eyes widened in shock. "And he's just telling you now? In a letter? That's awful Rabastan, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"That's not even the worst of it," He said bitterly, "Now Roddy is my Head of House, and I have to do what he says. He's informed me I'm to be introduced to a special friend of his over Easter."

He paled. Surely not? He sank down into his own seat beside Rabastan's.

"You don't mean.. him, do you?"

Rab's usually smooth dark skin looked waxy and pale as he answered in voice barely above a whisper. "The Dark Lord. Yeah."

"But you're only thirteen!" Reg exclaimed, voice sounding squeaky and panicked in a way his grandfather definitely would not approve of. "What could he possibly want from you?"

"Apparently it's about 'meeting the right people' before my induction right after O. ."

He was at a loss, he didn't know what he would do if he were the one being forced to face that monster. A few select memories from Hermione's pensieve were enough to convince him that he never wanted to be in the man's presence.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" In lieu of comforting words, he asked a question that had formed in his mind as soon as the other boy had started talking.

"I don't know." he confessed quietly, staring resolutely down at the parchment in his hands. "Maybe I just needed someone to talk to."

Regulus nodded, he could certainly understand that. Hadn't he only a short while ago been on his way to find Hermione for the very same reason. Well, this had certainly served to take his mind off his own family problems for a short while anyway. Maybe that was why Hermione was always meddling in other people's affairs?

"And maybe it's because I think I should warn you."

"Warn me?" He squinted in confusion.

"Apparently Bella had been talking about taking you along to a gathering soon as well. Roddy says she's quite fond of you."

He felt his stomach clench in dread even as he forced his face to remain smooth and unconcerned. Him? Go to a Death Eater meeting? He made a mental note to never again be alone with Trixie if he could avoid it.

"Thanks for the warning, I'll keep it in mind."

He indicated his head slightly before standing up and taking a deep breath. "I think I'm alright now, if you could take the wards down."

"Just a minute." Reg waved his wand over the boy, casting a subtle cooling charm on his face and gently steaming the wrinkles from his robes. Now, no-one who wasn't looking for it would ever know that he had been crying.

For the first time that day, the boy shot him a smile. It was small, and slightly sad, but it was there.

"Thanks Reggie."

"No worries." he waved the boy off as he started to dismantle the wards before continuing, "And I don't mind listening if you ever need to talk again, you know."

Rabastan snorted. "So you'll be what? My confidant?"

"Or your friend?" He suggested hopefully as he took down the last layer of warding.

Rab didn't say anything in reply as he headed towards the door, and just as Regulus was starting to feel the disappointment set in, the boy turned back with his hand still on the doorknob.

"Alright then, Friends." He held out his hand for Reg to shake, which he did eagerly.

Hey, look at that! He thought, I'm getting good at this friendship thing.

A/N: So, a bit more of Regulus, whom I adore! And a bit of a different take on Rabastan too. Please let me know what you guys think?

Til next time,

SJ