Regulus found Kreacher huddled on his makeshift bed beneath the cupboard, shivering despite the warmth of the enclosed space. Convincing the house elf to tell what had taken place in their absence had taken next to no effort.
He had been angry at first, enough that he went to Grimmauld Place, intending to confront his brother about it. It was impulsive and stupid and he was lucky he had come to his senses before barreling downstairs, and inciting the wrath of a house full of Order members.
He had already heard from Kreacher that the 'entire house' was taken over by the Order. Their mother's old bedroom was housing a hippogriff of all things, while the Weasley's now occupied their father's old sleeping quarters.
Regulus had been surprised when he arrived in his old bedroom, and found it looked exactly the same as he had left it. He might have thought it touching that his brother hadn't let anyone take it over. Of course, he knew it was more likely the proximity to Sirius' room, and not wanting anyone up there with him, that kept his room from being invaded, rather than any direct sentiment towards him.
While his temper had somewhat cooled, with the passing of time, he could not bring himself to leave before talking to his brother. He should have tried harder to do so the night they met, or if not then, at least the night in Little Whinging. The downfall of their relationship stemmed from their inability, or unwillingness to communicate. And while he didn't need his brother in his life, it would make things easier if they could reach some sort understanding.
He was beginning to worry he had been wrong to think Sirius would continue sleeping in his old room at all, when finally, he heard footsteps coming up the staircase.
He mentally counted each footstep he heard from the last landing, knowing there were only eight steps remaining between there and the top level of Grimmauld Place. Five. Six. Sev-
Did he bump into the wall?
"Argh," he heard Sirius grumble, followed by stumbling, a muffled crash; cursing.
Regulus was tempted to open the door to see what was going on. Hearing him begin to climb again, he resumed his counting. Seven. Eight. Nine? Ten? How many steps had he fallen down?
He waited until he heard the door across the hall creak open, then slipped into the hallway. Sirius left his door slightly ajar. Regulus followed him in, quietly shutting it behind him. Oblivious to his presence, Sirius continued his haphazard trek towards the bed. He got a bit tangled in a pile of robes lying in the floor but managed to keep his balance.
The entire room smelt of alcohol and something rotten. For a moment Regulus worried it was Sirius, until he saw a stack of assorted dishware covered with old food in the corner. Should that be reassuring?
If the amount of rubbish piled about was any indication, it was difficult to contest Dumbledore's belief that Harry was better off under someone else's care. Regulus averted his eyes from the mess, focusing on his brother who had just laid his wand on the night stand.
"I heard you met the kids," he announced, not quite able to keep the edge out of his voice.
Sirius instantly grabbed for the wand he had just laid down. Regulus sent it skittering across the room. He turned abruptly, anger helping to sober him for the moment.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, halving the distance between them in two long strides. His eyes were bloodshot and it looked as if it had been days since he last slept.
"You can't actually believe you would have any chance against me in your current state," Regulus answered, casually returning his wand to his pocket as if to demonstrate how miniscule he believed the threat.
Sirius stopped just short of grabbing him; he was eyeing him, sizing him up.
"I don't need to be sober to kick your arse," he warned. "I only wish I could have witnessed the scandal you avoided. Was it mum's idea for you to fake your death, rather she die in shame?"
"If you are referring to my children, you have to know that if mother had known about either of them, you never would have been re-inherited."
"More likely, you would have been disinherited for the shame you brought upon this noble house," he said mockingly.
"It scarcely matters now," Regulus answered tersely.
"How is it that of all rubbish lessons father taught us, the basic concept of where babies come from is the one that escaped your mind? How stupid can you be?"
Regulus bit the inside of his cheek to avoid correcting any of his wrong assumptions.
"Who else knows about them?" he asked impatiently.
"Why? So you can alter their memories while they sleep? I think I'll keep that bit of information to myself."
Regulus balled his hands into fists to keep from drawing his wand. He preferred to be diplomatic, but it was taking all of the restraint he had not to curse him, or worse, resort to muggle methods of fighting. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, "Hear me, Sirius. This isn't a game. There isn't any sort of prank involved here. They are children. They have nothing to do with any wrong I've done in my past."
"Aside from not preventing their existence in the first place," Sirius sneered.
"They are innocent," he answered with forced calm. "They deserve the opportunity to hold on to that, not to be dragged into an upcoming war that has nothing to do with them."
"Well, they certainly don't act innocent, do they? That girl of yours-"
"Had never stepped foot on British soil until Kreacher appeared from nowhere, took her brother and left her alone without any explanation. By the time she called Kreacher back, he was distraught about having left her brother behind." His hand twitched, aching to reach for his wand, "You nearly attacked her," he reminded him through gritted teeth. "You would be mad to have expected a warm reception."
"I was never going to attack her. Not that she wouldn't have deserved it if it happened. Tell me, how is Canada this time of year?"
"You can't blame her for being cautious, Sirius, she's a Black-"
"Don't remind me," He warned. "No family has ever deserved to die out more than ours... I can't even believe how selfish you are."
"The family name will die with you in this country if that is your decision. I am believed dead – you are the last of the male line here. I only care about keeping my family safe."
"You act as if they were discovered by death eaters rather than members of the Order."
"Do you have any idea how much of Voldemort's information came from Order members the last time?"
"The fact that you know that," Sirius retorted, "You have yourself to blame for whatever happens to them!"
"You already know that too, Sirius. Pettigrew-" at the mention of his old friend's name, Sirius threw a punch at him. In Regulus' haste to avoid it, he unsettled a stack of dishes that crashed loudly to the floor.
"Are you incapable of having a rational conversation?" he demanded, as he righted himself.
"You think I'm irrational?" Sirius half-slurred, rising to his full height to accentuate his slight height advantage. "You're the one who faked your death!" He smacked his arm as he used to do when they were young - not hard enough to hurt but enough to make him want to retaliate. At least it would have, if he was still ten years old.
"Grow up," Regulus chided, swatting him away. "You know as well as I do, my death only meant one less death eater for you to worry about."
Sirius retracted his arm suddenly. "You're right about that," he admitted coldly, his hands clenching into fists at his side.
Regulus hesitated long enough to ensure his voice would be steady and face impassive, "Tell me what I need to know and it will again be as if I died, fifteen years ago."
Sirius shoved him angrily, "You are such a bloody hypocrite!" he shouted in his face, offering a generous whiff of his rancid breath. "You want to protect your spoiled brat children but don't hesitate to look in on Harry to satisfy your own interests! Don't pretend you weren't there. Your scent is too… repugnant not to recognize!"
Regulus thought it ironic for him to be talking about odors. He liked to think he was the more rational one between them, but his ability to reason with Sirius had always been dreadful at best.
Sirius shook him, demanding, "Why were you there?"
"I don't know, Sirius. Checking on him just felt like the right thing to do."
"Do you actually expect me to believe that? Doing the right thing has never been your priority. Why not just admit you went there because you knew it would piss me off?"
"Don't you think enough has changed since we properly knew each other to stop pretending we still do? You're not the same person you were, nor am I. How could we be?"
Sirius' inner turmoil was evident. There was a craving for- something. To hear more, maybe? To try to understand him? Whatever his inclination, the effect of the alcohol couldn't be helping.
"I see nothing different about you," Sirius answered in a strained voice. "You're arrogant and deceitful. The same traits are evident in your children."
"You see only what you expect is there, Sirius. I am not the same person that I was when I joined the death eaters."
"They say you got in over your head and wanted out."
Regulus faltered at that. "Who is they?" he asked warily.
"Your old death eater pals, Selywn; Wilkes before he died… I hunted them down after you disappeared. They both claimed the attack at the Bones' house was the last place they ever saw you."
Regulus had assumed Dumbledore was exaggerating when he said Sirius investigated his disappearance.
He had been at the Bones' house, but it wasn't to attack any of them. Any loyalty he displayed towards Voldemort in the months leading up to then had been part of a risky charade that had quite literally almost killed him.
"It's true that I didn't want to be a death eater anymore," he admitted. "I didn't have another option but to leave then."
Sirius' eyes narrowed. "That was not your only option," he said emphatically. "You could have come to me, and fought with us against Voldemort. You didn't have to leave. You just… ran away."
Regulus didn't bother to hide his own disdain.
"Come to you, Sirius? You would have helped me? Is this how you spent your time in Azkaban? Deluding yourself with notions that your brother would still be alive if only he would have let you save him?"
"Don't ask me about Azkaban when it is you that should have been there," he snarled, swinging at him again. Regulus blocked the brunt of it and caught his arm, pulling it towards him. Sirius lost his balance, and tripped over Regulus' feet.
Regulus pounced on him and drew his wand, all thought of diplomacy forgotten. Sirius tried to shove him off, though he wouldn't budge.
"I guess you aren't so domesticated, after all," he jeered, eyeing the wand pointed in his face, "Less reformed than you would have me to believe. A death eater would never attack without the advantage. I'm not even armed- you saw to that."
"I don't have the luxury of playing fair, Sirius. I left Voldemort at the height of his power... My family has been safe for fifteen years. But I can't protect them from Voldemort and his legions of supporters if they are found out," he admitted. "You can choose to help me, or not- there is nothing I won't do to keep them safe."
"And what do you think you're going to do? Place memory charms on everyone that you deem knows too much? What about me? Are you really going to alter my memories?" he demanded as he futilely tried to unseat Regulus, still perched on his chest.
"That's up to you, but I won't ask again. What did you tell the others about my children? Who knows about them?"
Sirius sighed heavily, "Get off of me." Regulus studied him for a moment. Realizing it was his last chance for Sirius to willingly help him, he stood slowly, careful to avoid tripping over the pile of books they had unsettled.
Sirius got to his feet hurriedly and immediately scoped out the room, obviously looking for his wand.
"Well?" Regulus asked impatiently.
"Tonks and Bill are the only others who know about them besides Remus," Sirius answered resignedly. "Some of the others in the house heard our… talking in the kitchen and came down – Tonks and Bill met them, pretended to be having an argument. They were able to keep everyone else away until after Kreacher took your kids back home. Molly told Bill to go home – that's her son, and she insisted Tonks go to bed. No one else saw them."
"What do you intend to tell them when they ask?"
"They heard your son refer to me as his uncle," at his look, he added hastily, "You've got nothing to worry about, all three of them are trustworthy."
Regulus refrained from commenting on how Sirius' trust in Pettigrew had backfired. "Where can I find them?" he asked instead.
Sirius hesitated. "You won't. Nor should you try." Regulus' grip tightened on his wand. "If you want me to believe you are different you have to act differently. You can't expect me to trust you if you don't first trust me – I have far more reason to doubt you."
Regulus stared at him, "You aren't in any position to bargain."
"And you have far more to lose than I do," Sirius pointed out, scarcely hiding his own bitterness. Regulus raised his wand, poised to strike. "Is this how things end then, Reg? You take away my memories of seeing you alive; allow me to believe you died a coward?" Regulus hesitated. He could think of several alternatives that would be worse. It was obvious Sirius was just buying for more time, his eyes were flitting towards the direction his wand was last seen. Regulus might have done it, if not for Sirius' eyes focusing on him then, suddenly less interested in finding his wand; watching him intently, "Why did you really leave?"
"The less you know of the details the better, Sirius."
"You obviously became a father around that time," he speculated. "But it doesn't make sense for you to have left just because you got some witch pregnant, unless – who is their mother?"
Regulus would have thought the answer to that was obvious. "No one you know," he said tersely.
"If she went to Hogwarts I would know her," he pointed out. It was evident that he was developing an unlikely theory. "Is she muggleborn?" He asked, his eyes alit with amusement. "Or better... please tell me she is a muggle."
"Yes," Regulus said solemnly. "I fell desperately in love with a muggle."
Sirius cracked a smile. "Okay, so that isn't it," he deduced. "Who then?"
Regulus hesitated. He thought for a moment that maybe he should tell him the truth or at least some part of it, but he needed more time to think and Sirius was never one to be patient.
"I told you, if you want my help, you have to first trust me," he pressed.
"Dragging my son away from home in the middle of the night doesn't bode a strong feeling of trust."
"Neither does tracking down my godson and meeting him without telling me," he said pointedly. "How did you even know where Harry lived and why did you do that?"
Regulus felt a twinge of guilt knowing that deep down his intentions might not have been entirely honorable when he visited Harry. He would never have hurt the boy, of course, but he knew making contact with him would incense Sirius. It was no less than he deserved after alerting Dumbledore of his survival. Not that he was going to admit that now.
"I just wanted to make sure he was safe," he answered vaguely, "I wasn't sure if you had been able to check on him with the Ministry being after you and all."
"Oh, how thoughtful," Sirius answered amusedly. "I've been stuck here, so you took it upon yourself to check on my godson," More irritably, he added, "Of course you did. He's the boy-who-lived. Naturally, you're desperate enough to rally behind anyone in the hope they can protect you from Voldemort. Anything to keep you from getting your own hands dirty, right?"
Regulus' own anger was beginning stir again. Sirius had wasted so much time going back and forth, undecided on whether or not to be reasonable. If it was possible, it wasn't even his lack of helpfulness that bothered him most.
He realized he was angry at Sirius for what he had settled for since leaving Azkaban. The Sirius from their youth would have never returned to Grimmauld Place, much less confine himself to it. The brother he remembered never listened to anything anyone told him, he certainly wouldn't have allowed someone to dictate how he lived his life. He never would have let his orphaned godson be raised by neglectful muggles.
"He's just a kid," he answered evenly, "who lost his parents. And as unfortunate as it is already, it's made even worst, because the one person they trusted to take care of him, can't even take care of himself."
Sirius lunged at him. He would have expected nothing less. Regulus landed on a pile of books, and quickly rolled as Sirius tried to pummel him. Before either of them could gain an advantage over the other, the door burst open, admitting Remus Lupin and a young woman with bubblegum pink hair.
Regulus was able to block Remus' stunning spell, realizing with chagrin he did in fact, still have his wand. It was of little consequence, as in the next moment, he was disarmed by the woman.