Chapter 12 - Broken Promises

10th January 1980

It was just gone 9am on a Tuesday morning when Sirius heard a repetitive, aggressive rapping at his front door.

He'd just stepped out of the shower, and hurriedly pulled on some clothes before rushing down the hallway, muttering "alright, alright," under his breath as he went. He hoped it wasn't Mrs. Elliott from downstairs again. No matter how many silencing charms he and Remus cast on the flat, she remained convinced that she could hear them stomping around at all hours.

Pulling his wet hair back out of his face, Sirius pulled the door open.

For a moment, he regarded the woman on the other side of the doorframe blankly. Then he attempted to close the door again.

The woman however, was clearly unsurprised by this reaction, and stuck a single heeled shoe in the door before it could close in her face. Then she raised her wand, and forcefully pushed the door fully open.

"What do you want?" Sirius demanded, unwilling to allow his mother entrance to his home.

"Where is he?" Walburga demanded, regarding her son with open hostility.

"Who?" he asked, before letting out a huff of annoyance at his own curiosity. "Actually, I don't want to know. Get the hell out of my building."

"Where is Regulus?" His mother continued, peering around Sirius' body and into the hallway. "Is he here?"

"The last time I saw brother dearest he tried to hex me, so surprisingly I'm not hiding him in my flat," Sirius said flatly. "So you can leave."

He once again attempted to close the door.

"Sirius!" Walburga snapped, pushing her hand firmly against the door. "I - Merlin knows I wouldn't be here if I had any other options."

Sirius hesitated. He couldn't remember ever seeing his mother this desperate before. He had a strong feeling that, were it coming from anyone else, she would deem her very behaviour uncouth.

"I told you," he relented. "I haven't seen him."

"No one has," she said sharply. "He hasn't been home in months - not even for Christmas."

She looked genuinely worried, and Sirius felt a prickle of panic wash over him.

"If you - if you're lying to me," Walburga threatened, "if you see him..."

"I'll tell him to stay well clear of you," Sirius said bitterly, his panic quickly turning to anger as he looked at the woman whom he had barely spoken to in the four years since he had left home for good. "Whose fault do you think this is? Who encouraged him to run off and become a death eater?"

"Don't you dare-"

"He could be dead!" Sirius spat, the realisation fueling him with a new burst of fury. "Excellent parenting mother. One of your sons hates you and the other is probably rotting in-"

The rest of his sentence was lost with the force of the slap across his face causing him to bite down painfully on his tongue.

He automatically stepped backwards, away from the door.

"Get out," he said then, drawing his wand and pointing it at his mother. "Before I make you."

Walburga openly laughed, shaking her head and giving him a last, lingering look of disdain before turning and striding away.

Sirius reached up to touch his stinging cheek. It felt hot against his fingers.

He finally closed the door and wandered into the living room, collapsing into the chair nearest the door.

Regulus was missing. In the back of his mind, he'd know it was only a matter of time before something happened to him. He'd said as much to Regulus himself.

It didn't make the truth any more painful, or stop Sirius' mind from racing through the myriad of awful fates that could be waiting for his little brother, or that may have already found him.

December 1971

Sirius had barely left his room since coming back to Grimmauld Place for Christmas. Since leaving for Hogwarts, this house no longer felt like a home to him, and his parents certainly hadn't made him feel welcome. He had written them a letter on his very first night at Hogwarts, despite being warm and sleepy from the journey and full to bursting from the feast, but he had never got a reply. He knew it was because, according to his parents, he had been sorted into the wrong house. Terms like "dishonouring the family" and "breaking tradition" had been thrown around constantly since he'd come home, and nothing he did seemed to make up for it. His mother said "Gryffindor" in much the same way as she said "mudblood".

Regulus, at least, seemed happy that Sirius was home. He kept sneaking into Sirius' room to look through his school supplies and ask him about Hogwarts. Regulus had just turned ten, and in less than two years it would be time for him to join Sirius at school. He was full of questions, but there was one that he asked over and over again:

"Sirius, what if I'm in Gryffindor?"

"I told you." Sirius was lying on his bed, his potions homework in front of him, though he hadn't actually started it. Regulus had crept onto the bed next to him and was talking right into Sirius' ear. "Gryffindor is the best house."

"What's it like?"

"Come on, Reg. I've told you ten times already."

"Tell me again," Regulus whined.

Sirius sighed and closed his potions book. He sat up properly: if he was going to tell Reg about his house, he was going to do it right.

"Okay, picture this. The common room is way up in a big tower, so you can see the Quidditch pitch from the windows, and the people down on the ground look like tiny little ants. The dorms all have four-poster beds and all the hangings and sheets are in red and gold. Our head of house is the greatest because she can turn into a cat. And we've got the most house points so far. And we have the best Quidditch team. My friend James is going to try out for it next year."

"I want to try out for it too!" Regulus said, bubbling with enthusiasm.

"You're not allowed until second year," Sirius said. "Besides, you might not be in Gryffindor."

Regulus was silent for a long time.

"Father says I have to be in Slytherin," he said finally. "He said it'll be a disgrace if neither of his sons are in the family house."

"Maybe you will be," Sirius said, trying to sound like he didn't care either way. Most likely, he thought, Regulus would be in Slytherin. He'd always toed the family line better than Sirius had.

"We'll still be friends if I am in Slytherin, won't we?" Regulus asked, sounding anxious.

"Don't be an idiot," Sirius said, nudging Regulus playfully until he toppled off the bed. Regulus looked up at him from the floor, eyes wide. "Of course we'll still be friends," Sirius added.

Regulus' expression cleared.

"You promise?" he asked.

"Yeah, Reg." Sirius rolled his eyes. "I promise."

10th January 1980

By the time he heard Remus' key in the door, Sirius had left his spot on the living room chair in favour of his bed. It had slowly grown dark around him, and Sirius had only left the bed in search of food or to use the bathroom.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, and noted that it was almost 11pm.

"You're late," Sirius pointed out, when Remus found him. His cheeks were flushed from the cold whether outside, and he looked tired. Sirius half wanted to get up and wrap himself in Remus' arms, to distract himself with the familiar warmth of Remus' body. The other part of him felt scared and angry and never wanted to move again.

"Yeah," Remus sighed. "Couldn't get away."

"Sure, I can see how leaving a bunch of dudes who live in the woods for no good reason to come home to your boyfriend would be a struggle."

"Okay..." Remus said, pausing his search for clean pyjamas to fix Sirius with a confused look. "They don't 'live in the woods,'" Remus argued, thinking of the group of werewolves Dumbledore had been encouraging him to spend time with in the hope of uncovering who Voldemort was interested in recruiting. "And you know I'd rather be here. Are you okay? You seem... not."

"I'm fine," Sirius said shortly.

"Are you sure?"

"Just peachy."

Maybe he'd have wanted to talk about it, Sirius thought bitterly, if Remus had been home at a decent time, and hadn't left Sirius to stew on his own all day in favour of dangerous Dumbledore-sanctioned missions. Now he just wanted to lie down and wallow. Besides, it wasn't like Remus could do anything.

"Okay," Remus said again, clearly unconvinced. "Do you want to come and get some tea or -"

"I'm fine."

Remus nodded, chewing at his bottom lip, which made Sirius roll his eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that," he added, when Remus continued to look perplexed. "Can you just leave me alone?"

Remus frowned but nodded. "I'll be in the living room if you want to talk," he said.

Sirius heard the heavy sigh when he failed to respond, and listened to Remus' soft footsteps as he padded back down the hallway.

It was stupid, he knew, to take his frustration out on Remus. It wasn't going to help Regulus, wherever he was. It wasn't going to help anything at all.

Yet he didn't make any move to speak to Remus, or ease any of the uncertainty pushing heavily against his chest. He just he lay there, finally falling asleep much later, well after his clock had struck midnight. And still, the bed beside him remained cold and empty.

July 1974

Sirius didn't know why he'd thought it was a good idea for James to spend a week at Grimmauld Place over the summer holidays. He only suggested it because he'd been to the Potters' house for the past two summers, and he felt like it was his turn.

But so far, it had been a disaster. His father had been cold towards James, his mother outright hostile. And Regulus… well, Reg had been distant all year. Ever since he'd been sorted into Slytherin, they seemed to be so far apart. The walls separating Gryffindor and Slytherin at Hogwarts still seemed to be between Sirius and Regulus even when the castle was miles and miles away.

"Ugh, this is so boring," Sirius said to James. "Your house is way more fun. I don't know why I invited you."

"So let's do something fun." A mischievous look spread over James' face. "You and your brother have broomsticks, right?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, "but we're not allowed to fly them outside because of the muggles."

"So?" James said. "Since when did rules stop you doing anything?"

Sirius had to admit he had a point, and he couldn't help but grin at the excited look on his friend's face.

"Okay," he said. "Meet me at the front door. I'll get them."

Sirius raced down the stairs, then slowed down to sneak past the drawing room, where his parents were talking. He thought he'd made it to the cupboard where the brooms were without being noticed, until he heard Regulus' voice behind him.

"Are we playing Quidditch?" he asked, sounding more eager than Sirius had heard him sound all year.

"Er," Sirius said. "Actually…"

"Oh." Regulus' face fell. "You're playing with James. Again."

Regulus turned and skulked out of the room. Sirius dropped the brooms and hurried after him.

"Reg, wait. I'll play Quidditch with you later, okay?"

"No, you won't," Regulus said dejectedly. "You're lying – you're always lying."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." Sirius grabbed his arm. "What are you on about, Reg?"

"You said." Regulus' face puckered, his eyes welling with frustrated tears. "You promised we'd still be friends if I was in Slytherin, but we're not. You never talk to me. You always talk to James. You don't care about me anymore."

James himself had just come down the stairs, following the sound of raised voices. Regulus pointed at him accusingly, and before Sirius could respond, Reg pushed past them both and hurried up the stairs.

James looked stunned and a little awkward. "Sorry, mate," he said. "I never meant for you to choose me over your brother."

"It's not your fault," Sirius said, still looking past James to where Regulus had just been. "It's my parents' fault for pitting Reg against you. They did this."

Picking up the brooms, Sirius went to open the front door.

"Don't you think you should talk to him?" James suggested.

"No," Sirius said. "There's no point. He's a Slytherin, and I'm a Gryffindor. That's never going to change."

And with that, he walked out of the house.

10th January 1980

Sirius couldn't get Reg out of his head. Memories were swirling around his mind like moths around a flame, and one in particular had stuck with him. To everyone else, it seemed like the summer after fifth year, the summer when Sirius left Grimmauld Place for good, was when his relationship with his family collapsed. But really, it was a done deal a long time before that. He remembered, vividly, the summer after third year, when he and Reg had argued over and over again. He remembered choosing to spend time with James instead of his brother. He remembered Regulus words, even after all these years: "You promised we'd still be friends."

Had Regulus been right? Had Sirius been neglecting his little brother? At the time, Sirius had blamed his parents for driving them apart, but maybe it wasn't entirely their fault. Maybe it was Sirius' fault. Maybe he should have tried harder to stay friends with Reg. Maybe he shouldn't have run away from home and left Reg alone there. Maybe he could have stopped Regulus from befriending death eaters. Maybe he could have stopped him becoming one.

Maybe he could have saved Regulus' life.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Sirius lay on his bed, in the flat he and Remus had been so happy to move in to, and for the first time it felt wrong. He was no longer sure that this was where he was meant to be. He was no longer sure that all his choices had been the right ones. He wasn't sure of anything.

He only wished that somehow, at some point in the last nine years, he had done more to keep his promise to Regulus.

But it was too late.