Written for QLFC: Season 8, Round 3

Team: Kenmare Kestrels (Captain)

Prompt: Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down): Write about a duel or fight.

Lyric Used: So what happens if we win?

Warnings: Character death, physical fighting, mentions of a not so great home life sorta, and the general darkness that comes with being a Death Eater (aka mentions of killing, getting the Dark Mark, etc)

Word count (excluding AN): 2449

When Fighting is All You Know

A Wizard's duel is a formal practice in wizarding culture in which two or more wizards or witches engage in combat under the condition that only magical means can be used. The combatants face each other and bow, as a sign of respect, before they place themselves in an accepted combative position and, at the count of three, attempt to disarm, stun, injure, defeat, or kill each other in order to force submission, and thus a winner is decided.

Harry Potter Wiki

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Before It All

Regulus didn't know the precise moment his relationship with Sirius turned sour.

At first, they were brothers. In every sense of the word. Regulus relied upon Sirius for everything, and Sirius never once let him down. Even though they had separate rooms, Regulus always snuck across the hallways, a book taken from the family library tucked under his arm. In the darkness, he would find Sirius' bed. Only when they were sure that their parents were asleep would they light a candle. Solemnly, Regulus would hand Sirius the book, and Sirius would read to him until he was fast asleep, comfortable in the protection of his older brother.

That only changed when Sirius went off to Hogwarts. Regulus supposed that's when their relationships started to deteriorate. When Sirius came back home, Regulus still snuck into his room, but he read on his own while his brother decorated his room in gold and maroon.

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Challenge

Regulus wasn't nervous. He sat beside his brother (despite the wishes of his mother) on the train, keeping quiet with his head in his books as Sirius prattled on, partially to him, and partially to Remus, Peter, and James who also shared the compartment with the Black brothers.

"I hope you get sorted into Gryffindor," Sirius said, nudging Regulus with his shoulder.

Regulus knew it wasn't likely that he would end up a Gryffindor. It wasn't that he had an aversion to the house, even if his mother wished he did, but he just couldn't see himself donning the gold and maroon colors, accepting everything brave and chivalrous.

If not Slytherin, which just felt right to Regulus, then maybe Ravenclaw. He liked to learn, after all.

When it came time to separate from Sirius and his friends, Regulus did so with grace. He was calm as he and the other first years floated across the Black Lake, but he didn't speak to anyone. He kept to himself.

He was called second.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat yelled instantaneously. It didn't even touch his head.

Regulus glanced at Sirius.

His older brother looked sadder than Regulus had ever seen him.

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Accepting the Duel

"You've been spending a lot of time with Lestrange," Sirius commented.

It wasn't an odd thing for him to say. Their conversations were fairly dry most of the time, consisting of Sirius making random statements and Regulus either agreeing or disagreeing. Most of the time, when they met up (weekly) by the Black Lake, Sirius would fidget with whatever latest obsession he had and Regulus would silently read.

But with this question, Regulus actually set down the book he was reading to look questioningly up at his brother, who was sitting on a low branch of the tree he was under. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice not exactly cold, but chilly.

Sirius shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I don't like the way he touches you."

Regulus' eyebrow quirked up. Sure, Sirius had always been a tad protective, but ever since Regulus entered his fourth year at Hogwarts, it had gotten worse. "And what way is that?"

"Possessively." Sirius' answer was quick and laced with anger. It actually surprised Regulus to see that much emotion come from Sirius. Usually, when the two were together, they kept things withheld from each other, never quite showing how they truly felt.

But this seemed raw.

"We're dating," Regulus said simply, choosing to go back to his book rather than face whatever Sirius was about to throw at him.

"Dating?" Sirius' voice sounded dry; Regulus still didn't look up. "Reg… He's sixteen, and his family is so involved in the Dark Arts. Are… is he holding something over you?"

Regulus sighed, but did not look up from his book. "No. Besides, our family is involved in the Dark Arts too."

Sirius was silent for some time. Regulus could hear him shift off of his branch, landing next to where he sat, but he still kept reading.

"I'm not coming home. After this year, I'm..." Sirius paused—Regulus could feel fear radiating off of him. "I'm moving in with the Potters, and I want you to come with me."

Barely missing a beat, unwilling to show how those words struck him, Regulus replied, "It's fine. I'll stay with Mum and Dad, thanks."

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Bow (a Show of Respect)

His first couple of years, he spent the journey to Hogwarts with Sirius and his friends, the Marauders. But come Regulus' fifth year, after not speaking with Sirius for the entire summer, he instead sat with his boyfriend, Rabastan Lestrange.

Sixth year, Regulus was alone.

He claimed a compartment in the back of the train, choosing to dive into his book and ignore anyone who came knocking. A couple of first years ended up sitting with him, but he didn't speak to them, and they seemed too timid to try and break the silence.

It wasn't until he was disembarking the train that someone actually addressed him.

"Are you still dating him?" Sirius asked, pushing to stand next to Regulus on the crowded platform.

Regulus sighed, keeping his face turned away from his brother. He didn't want to give Sirius too much access to him and his emotions. "Yes." His voice was cool. "He may have graduated, but Rabastan still loves me."

Sirius didn't seem to be used to silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus watched as his brother shifted, tugging at his robes and fumbling with a strip of leather that was wrapped around his wrist. Out of pity, Regulus turned to face him properly.

"Look. I appreciate your attempts to be a good older brother, but war is coming, Sirius. I know you are smart enough to have realized it," Regulus said calmly, regarding his older brother. It took him a moment, but he noticed that he had to look down slightly to see Sirius. When had he passed him in height?

He brushed the knowledge aside. It wasn't important. "Let's face it. We are on opposite sides. So… let's just face your final year here as equals. We will be opponents, but not yet," Regulus finished.

He didn't wait to see if anything other than shock passed over Sirius' features. Regulus simply turned away and boarded a horseless carriage, leaving his brother behind.

Maybe, just maybe, he was wishing things were different.

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Wands at The Ready

Sirius didn't talk to Regulus for the entirety of the school year. Regulus would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt just a little bit, but he knew that this was the path they had both chosen.

They didn't even talk on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters that spring, after Sirius' graduation ceremony.

Regulus watched his older brother carefully as he laughed with the other Marauders, and for the shortest of moments, they made eye contact. The blood-traitor and the perfect son—brothers torn apart by choice—stared at each other for a single moment.

And then that moment ended.

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One

Regulus was alone when he took the Dark Mark, as was tradition, but directly after, he was welcomed into the arms of his boyfriend.

Rabastan whispered words of comfort as he stroked back his hair, promising that the pain would fade after time. Regulus chose to believe him.

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Two

Walburga and Orion Black attended his graduation ceremony (something that they hadn't done for Sirius). Beside them sat Rabastan.

Regulus wished his brother had shown up, but Sirius was nowhere to be found.

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Three

"So what happens if we win?" Regulus asked as he was held in his lover's arms. He could feel Rabastan's heartbeat beneath his cheek, but it brought him little comfort. His mind was too caught up on the fact that the next day would bring his first official raid. They would get their specific assignments in the morning, but Regulus wasn't sure if he even wanted his.

"Then we win. That's a good thing, Reg," Rabastan replied, and not for the first time, Regulus regretted his decision to let Sirius go to the Potters' without him.

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Duelling in Action

Regulus should be with Rabastan. He knew he should. His first raid had been successful, they should be… what… celebrating?

Celebrating the fact that they killed an innocent family. A Muggleborn family. The McKinnons. Regulus hadn't actually shot the curse that ended any lives, but he had been there. He had been present. He had watched their house burn. He had watched as the life seeped out of the eyes of a girl he had gone to school with.

He was just as guilty as anyone else.

Instead of going home to Rabastan, he went to a bar. He got sloshed. He didn't care. He drank until he couldn't see straight; until his forearm didn't burn so much; until he couldn't remember the color of Marlene McKinnon's hair.

By the time he stumbled from the bar, after his alcohol supply had been cut off, he could barely walk. So it wasn't a surprise when he stumbled into someone.

It was a surprise when that someone said his name.

"Reg?" It took Regulus a full ten seconds to realize that it was Sirius who was talking to him.

He giggled and put his palm on Sirius' chest, letting his older brother steady him. "What're you here for?" he managed, his voice a drunken slur. He slumped into his brother's form for a moment, not listening to what Sirius replied with, before he pushed back with a violent shove.

"No!" Regulus yelled, surprising even himself with the force of his voice. "You're the enemy. I'm supposed to hate you."

Regulus could see the mixture of confusion and hurt flash over Sirius' expression, but he ignored it. What he couldn't ignore was the way Sirius' jaw tightened after a couple of seconds.

"You were there," Sirius accused, his voice hard. Whatever concern he had for Regulus had seemed to evaporate. "You were part of the group that killed her."

Regulus didn't deny it. He only stepped forward, on the offensive. "And where were you?" he asked, voice clearer than before. His head was just as muddy, maybe even more so than it was when he had left the bar. He couldn't think straight. "Why weren't you there? Why didn't you stop me?"

"Regulus, stop this," Sirius said sharply, taking a quick glance around the empty street. It was too late for anyone to be out. "I'm taking you to the Order. You need to answer for what you've done."

Sirius reached for Regulus' wrist, but before he could grab him, Regulus snarled. He coiled up like a spring before releasing all of his pent up energy and frustration through his fist—it connected with Sirius' jaw. Regulus struck again, the blow landing on Sirius' cheek.

His third attempt was unsuccessful. Sirius dodged it and landed a strike of his own, socking Regulus in the gut.

The brawl was lopsided, Regulus doing everything he could to batter, scratch, and harm his brother while Sirius mainly dodged, only placing a few well-timed punches to try and knock Regulus back.

It was obvious who had the upper hand, who held more control, but still Regulus fought like an animal, never once pausing. So the fight continued.

Until Sirius drew his wand. In his intoxicated state, Regulus understood that he stood no chance against his brother if magic was involved, so he pushed away from Sirius as quickly as he could. Without another glance spared towards his brother, he apparated away.

Not a smart thing to do while drunk. He landed hard in the bedroom of the flat he shared with Rabastan, having splinched himself down his left arm.

Directly through his Dark Mark.

A sharp pain flared through his body, and he fell unconscious.

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Final Blow

The Dark Lord asked to borrow Kreacher only a few weeks later. It didn't take Regulus long to figure out the Dark Lord's secret.

Horcruxes.

It sent him over the edge. All his life, Regulus had fought. Fought on the side of the Dark Arts; fought his brother; fought with the concept of good and evil.

But this knowledge, that the Dark Lord had split his soul in an attempt to live forever, set Regulus off in a way he couldn't understand. Without thinking, he apparated.

He was surprised to see that he landed in the same spot where he and Sirius had fought with fists just weeks prior. But what surprised him even more was seeing Sirius himself leaning against a nearby building.

"I expected you to come back sooner," Sirius said. He didn't move to attack or detain Regulus, but it was obvious that he wanted to. He was fidgeting with his wand.

With a sigh, Regulus looked down. "If you could do something that would be a major blow to the Dark Lord… would you?" he asked hesitantly, though he already knew what Sirius' answer would be.

"I wouldn't hesitate."

Regulus nodded before reaching his hand out to Sirius—an offering—and Sirius took it.

They shook. Sirius looked like he wanted to say something, maybe even drag Regulus back to the Order of the Phoenix, but Regulus let go of his hand and cut him off. "Thank you," he said simply. No apologies, no begging to be accepted by the side of the light. Just a quiet resignation.

It was the most civil he and his brother had been in quite some time. Whatever battle they had been fighting was over.

Regulus even smiled at Sirius before apparating away.

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Aftermath

He was drowning.

Kreacher had the Horcrux, the fake locket was now in the stone basin, Rabastan was unaware of everything, and Regulus was drowning.

Briefly, before his eyes closed for the last time, Regulus wondered what his life would have been like if he hadn't fought Sirius—if he had left to live with the Potters, or had been sorted into anything other than Slytherin.

But, he supposed it didn't matter. He was drowning, but he had still done something right. He had taken something away from the Dark Lord, and maybe that could be enough.

He had lost this fight, but maybe the right side could win the war.