Author's note: Okay, so I decided to just put up the next chapter early since I had it written. Happy whatever spring holiday you celebrate!
Not JKR, too American.
November 1979
Regulus flipped pages at a furious rate, adding to his notes in a scrawl that was hardly legible. He was on his second roll of parchment when he dropped his quill with a hiss, his right hand going to clutch at his left forearm. He stood, still rubbing at the burning mark as he hurriedly dressed in hooded black robes. Regulus disappeared with a nearly silent click.
As soon as his feet were steady on the ground, Regulus was moving toward the drawing room. Lestrange Mansion was dark, with gothic columns and arching windows that somehow let in no light. While he moved through the corridors, Regulus enforced his Occlumency shields, bringing forward the loyalty he had felt in his earliest days as a Death Eater, the resentment he still felt towards his brother, the unwilling hatred for the non-pureblooded he had been trained to feel since birth while squirreling away all other emotions.
He pulled open the ornate wooden door and took several steps forward before bending on one knee. His eyes were kept on the floor.
"My Lord, you called for me?" Regulus said in a smooth, even voice.
The Dark Lord stood before him, looking down on his servant. "Regulus," he said. It took all Regulus's will power to not shiver at the almost fond tone. "You have done good work for me since your graduation. As expected for a wizard of your impeccable breeding."
"Thank you, My Lord. Your praise means much to me," Regulus intoned, without inflection.
The Dark Lord ignored him. "You are very powerful, and exceptionally intelligent. As is, I hear from Bellatrix, your brother, the Gryffindor," the red-eyed man mused. "I am a merciful Lord, so you are forgiven for not informing me yourself. As it stands, however, I cannot have such a wizard in Dumbledore's command, and I coincidentally also require a final test of your loyalty to me and my cause. There is an obvious solution to both my dilemmas. You will bring Sirius Black to me so he will join you in my service, or you will kill him. You have two days, and if your task has not been accomplished by then, you must die in his place."
Regulus had his Occlumency shields up to full strength to remain calm. "Is that all, My Lord?" he asked, voice not betraying his hammering heart.
The Dark Lord inclined his head. "You will return in two days. Dismissed."
Regulus stood and bowed, then walked out of the room as fast as he could without jogging. So, it would be his life or Sirius's. Regulus didn't even have to think for a minute.
Sirius deserved to live, for he was free and was loved. Regulus was tainted, with a mark on his soul and a heart that had forgotten how to love. But, if he was to die in two days' time, then it would be on his own terms. Regulus had things to do.
He appeared in his bedroom and immediately went to his desk, opening an old book. He read it quickly for the dozenth time, then closed the book and pulled out a piece of parchment. He wrote carefully, then blew on it to dry the ink. Regulus steeled himself. It was now or never.
"Kreacher!"
The old elf appeared with a crack of displaced air. "Master Regulus calls Kreacher?" he croaked.
Regulus grabbed a silver dagger out of a drawer in his desk.
"Take me."
Kreacher started shaking his head frantically. "NO!" he shrieked. "Kreacher will not take Master Regulus to that nasty, nasty, place!"
Regulus kneeled in front of the elf and placed a hand on his shoulder placatingly. "Kreacher," he said kindly. "This is an order. Take me to where he took you."
Kreacher looked near tears, and Regulus forced himself not to care. Shakily, the elf took Regulus's hand and disapparated.
They arrived in an open-mouthed cave on a cliff facing the sea. Waves ebbed and flowed from the horizon where the sun set before hitting the rocks with crashes of such great force that the resulting spray hit the wizard, even some fifty feet up.
"The entrance is on that wall, Kreacher remembers. The bad man cut Kreacher's arm, he did," Kreacher said, pointing a crooked finger at the far wall of the cavern. Regulus turned to Kreacher.
"You are to feed me the potion until it is gone, then take the horcrux and go home. You will save yourself, understood?"
Kreacher hesitated, then nodded determinedly. Regulus smiled, but it came out more like a grimace. He walked up to the wall Kreacher had pointed out, feeling the energy pulsing across the wall in dark waves. A blood sacrifice, such an archaic form of protection, and ridiculously arrogant, too. Any person willing to break into these defenses would be willing to give their blood.
Regulus sneered, the intellectual part of him somehow disappointed in the Dark Lord. He drew out his dagger and rolled up his left sleeve, then, in a movement filled with poeticism, he slashed the knife straight through the dark mark, staining the black brand and pale skin with crimson. Regulus smeared the blood into the stone, and it flashed white before revealing an archway leading to a massive lake.
"Come, Kreacher."
The elf followed and directed him to a small rowboat. Regulus had to admire the magic put in to this place, dark as may have been. It did seem a little theatrical, however.
The two quickly reached the glowing-green island in the center of the lake, disembarking the boat. It hit Regulus, then, that these were the last moments of his life. For a moment, he almost turned back, for eighteen years seemed far too short, far too young for what he was asking himself to do. He thought of Sirius then, and steeled himself. He was dying so his brother could live, and there was no better reason to die in Regulus's mind.
Perhaps in the shadows you will find glory, the Sorting Hat had said. None would ever know what he had set out to do, none would know his sacrifice. And in time, none would remember the younger Black brother, the one who was always dimmer in comparison to the elder. His name would fade into the shadows.
Regulus shut his eyes momentarily and made his way to the center of the island, taking in the basin. There it was, at the bottom of a bowl of deceptively innocent-looking potion. Regulus pointed his wand at it.
"Geminio permanens."
A perfect replica of the locket appeared in his hand, and Regulus pulled out his note, folding it carefully and placing it inside. He handed the locket to Kreacher.
"Place this in the basin after you take the horcrux."
Kreacher nodded once again. Regulus took a deep breath and eyed the basin wearily.
"Show time," he murmured, then plunged the ivory cup into the basin.
Sirius was just getting in from patrols when a crack echoed through his flat. His wand was out in a flash.
Though he of course had anti-apparition and dissaparition wards on his home, Sirius was still surprised to see a house elf in his living room. A very familiar house elf, at that. Kreacher didn't give Sirius much time to wonder though, as he ran over with a high-pitched squeal and grabbed Sirius's arm, dissaparating immediately.
When he landed in a cave, all thoughts of cursing the bugger were thrown out of his mind when he saw the inferi.
"Help Master Regulus, nasty disgrace! Kreacher can't let Master die!" the elf shrieked. Sirius shook himself out of his horror and began to move with the practiced movements of a soldier. In the center of the lake that Sirius was standing on the banks of was an island, completely crawling with reanimated corpses; they seemed not to notice the newcomer. The air stank with rotting flesh; light would flare from the island every once and a while, but the intervals in between were getting longer and longer before stopping all together.
Sirius may have been a Gryffindor and a blood-traitor, but at his core, he was still a Black. And as a Black, he knew that this was not the time for weak little school spells.
"Spiritus ignus monstra!"
A white-hot tongue of flame shot out of the end of his wand, twisting and coiling around itself. Sirius threw his arm, sending the fiery jet toward the group of inferi. They shrieked and scrambled back toward the water and away from the light and heat of the flaming creatures circling them. Sirius then ended his spell after all the corpses were back underwater, praying he was not too late.
"Accio Regulus Black," he muttered, forcing power into the spell. Sirius felt his magic straining with the effort of moving such a heavy load after the supreme effort of controlling fiendfyre, but he kept forcing power into the spell. With time, a dark shape came sailing over the lake. Sirius swore and quickly shot off a feather-light charm, but still winced when his brother hit the ground. Though after one look, Sirius could confidently say a few bruises from a heavy landing were not the most pressing of Regulus's problems.
He knelt at Regulus's side, casting the basic diagnostic charm he had learned for full moon mornings and taking in the information rapidly. The water in Regulus's lungs he drained with a spell Lily had taught him after Peter almost got drowned by the giant squid; he healed his broken nose to improve airflow. The rest would have to be done later.
"Kreacher!" he called. The elf, who was watching worriedly, looked to his former master. "Can you disapparate out of here?"
Kreacher nodded, apparently too worried about his master to insult Sirius.
"Will you take us to my flat?"
"Because you saved Master Regulus," Kreacher said diplomatically, reaching out a hand. Sirius tried very hard to mask his expression of distaste when he grabbed the elf's hand. He pulled Regulus close and they were off.
Sirius and Regulus landed in a heap back in Sirius's living room. Sirius got to his knees and addressed the house-elf.
"Kreacher, go home and tell my mother," Sirius spat the word. "That Regulus is away for a few days. Then stay there unless you are called by Regulus."
Kreacher regarded Sirius disdainfully now that all was safe, then gave a great sigh. "Nasty blood-traitor who broke Mistress's heart, ordering Kreacher around like he is still a proper Black. Kreacher only does what he say for Master," he muttered as he disappeared.
Sirius rolled his eyes, dried Regulus off, and recast the diagnostic charm. He didn't understand what had happened; the broken ribs and wrist were understandable, as were the strangulation marks, but where Regulus got a fever was beyond him. Which meant that he needed a healer. Luckily, Sirius knew one of those.
He rose to his feet and walked towards the fireplace, throwing in some floo powder and calling an address.
"Andi!"
A few minutes went by with Sirius alternating between yelling at his fireplace and making sure Regulus wasn't dead before Andromeda finally decided to show herself.
"What do you want Sirius. It is two in the morning and I have a six-year-old."
"I need a healer."
Andi huffed. "Why didn't you go to the hospital, then?"
"It's a delicate situation. Not dangerous anymore, though, so if you could just come on through that would be great."
"This better be good," Andi muttered. "Let me get my bag."
Another minute went by before Andi stepped out of the floo, still in her dressing gown. Sirius mutely pointed her in the direction of Regulus, and she gasped.
"Is that…?" she asked quietly. Sirius nodded and Andi hurriedly moved to Regulus's side, kneeling and casting some ridiculously complicated spells that Sirius had no hope of understanding.
"I don't know why he's got a fever. Or why I have him at all, for that matter," Sirius said, kneeling beside her.
"What happened?"
"I got home and then Kreacher showed up, wailing. He grabbed me before I could hex him and apparated us off to this big cave where Reg was getting the shit beat out of him by what looked like the Dark Lord's personal army of inferi. After those were dealt with, Kreacher apparated me and Regulus back here."
Andi nodded dazedly while she started to set broken bones. "We need to get him awake before I can give him skele-gro, can you lift him to the couch or something?"
Sirius nodded and slid his arms under Regulus, lifting his brother up surprisingly easily. Regulus had always been on the thin side, but this was ridiculous.
"Andi, do you have a pepper-up?" Sirius asked after he deposited Regulus on the couch.
Andi looked up from where she was pulling out potions and frowned. "Why?"
"I could use one." At Andi's curious look, he shrugged. "Fiendfyre is tiring."
"You used fiendfyre?" she asked incredulously. "Never mind, here you go. I don't think I want to know."
Sirius downed the potion in one go and smiled gratefully at Andi, who was back to kneeling by Regulus. She was frowning deeply at one of her diagnostics.
"What?" Sirius asked.
"There's some sort of poison in his blood. It's not deadly, but that must explain the fever. It must have been made to weaken, not kill."
Sirius thought that over for a minute. "It would explain why Regulus wasn't fighting off the inferi well," he conceded, though why the poison was in Reg's bloodstream at all was an unknown. "How do we get rid of it?"
"We can't, it'll have to run its course. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a psychological component as well. Which is fine, except that it will be hard to get him awake to heal his bones. He also needs a potion for lung trauma," Andi explained.
"What all's broken, anyway? I saw ribs and wrist, but I was in a rush," Sirius said with a frown.
"Those, and a fractured tibia and collar bone."
"Could we just numb his breaks and then fix the bruising until he's awake?"
Andi sighed, then nodded. "I don't particularly like that, but it will probably have to do. Numbing slows healing though, that's why we don't use it in the hospital."
"You start on that; I need to improve my wards."
It was Andi's turn to look confused. "Why?"
Sirius grimaced. "Because if I'm right, then we've got a runaway Death Eater on our hands."
Andi frowned and took a seat in an armchair after finishing with Regulus. "How long has it been since you two spoke?"
"Barely at all since I left, but we spoke briefly right before I finished school."
"Almost two years?"
Sirius nodded, clenching his jaw. Abruptly, he spun on his heel, away from Andi and Regulus, and began the process of strengthening the wards on his flat. Sirius felt rather than saw the ward stones from which the spells were tied and reached out his magic, searching for holes in his existing wards and filling them as needed. Warding was something of a hobby of his, a useful talent in these times of war; back in school he had entertained the idea of becoming a curse-breaker, a notion that had died when life and war got in the way. His job now was to survive and protect.
Regulus stood above Sirius, who was on his hands and knees below him, his wand pointing unflinchingly between the other man's eyes. Sirius looked up, silvery eyes hard, and spat blood.
"I saw this coming. All I had to do was look at what you've become."
Regulus was silent, but Sirius continued.
"You'll finally have risen to the spotlight, Regulus. Taken out the brightest star."
Regulus glared and moved his wand closer.
"It was your life or mine, Sirius. Avada Kedavra."
Sirius fell limp on the ground, the force of Regulus's spell knocking him flat on his back. Blood coated Sirius's lips and chin, and those eyes that had been so piercing from the moment he was born were dulled from mercury to a dim grey. Regulus stared at the corpse impassively for a moment before turning on his heel and dissaparating.
The scene changed, and Regulus was struggling against an inferius, his back against the ground. Icy, skeletal, hands closed around his throat and forced his chin up. Unwittingly, Regulus looked up into the creature's face, taking in the lank dark hair and sagging skin in with a gag. Another monster's hand enclosed his ankle and began to drag him towards the water, but this one inferius was particularly intent on keeping hold of his neck, locking the two inferi in a tug-of-war over Regulus's body. His vision was starting to cloud and the last thing he saw before he blacked out were a set of clouded grey eyes…
Regulus awoke with a panic, the remnants of his dream twisting and fading in his head. He could still feel the long-fingered hands of the reanimated corpses on every inch of his body, the deadened stare of his brother's corpse and his own horrible satisfaction at that.
And yet, he couldn't open his eyes, which meant it stood to reason that he was dead. But the muffled sounds of people talking made his gut feeling that that was not the case all the stronger.
"—still unconscious… the numbing charms are going wear off soon, and I won't put them back again. I'll ennerveate him if I have to, but that would hurt like hell," a voice said.
"It's going to hurt like hell either way, isn't it?" asked another.
A pause.
"Yes…" replied the first.
"Then just wake him up while the numbing charms are still on, I want to hear this story."
"Fine. Regulus, if you can hear me, I'd like to apologize in advance. Ennerveate."
A shot of pure adrenaline racked through his body and Regulus was suddenly confronted with the truth that he was very much alive. In the most painful way possible, it seemed. His vision was still blurred and spotted with stars, but those definitely were people there and he definitely needed a pain reliever. Impulsively, Regulus tried to sit up, only to have his body pushed back into whatever he was laying on.
"Can you hear me, Regulus? Nod yes," instructed the first voice, that Regulus had now distantly identified as female.
Regulus nodded slightly and started to close his eyes again. Someone pinched him and his eyes flew back open.
"No, no sleeping. Regulus!"
"If this was a different situation and that wasn't Reggie, I'd say he's drunk," the second voice drawled.
"Hush up, Sirius, or I swear to Merlin I'll hex you."
Regulus's heart thudded in his chest. He coughed to clear his throat. "Sirius?" he croaked, feeling an inordinate amount of relief that he had not actually killed his brother.
"Hullo, Reg. What in the hell did you drink?"
"Do ignore him, Regulus. Sirius's been awake for nearly two days and won't go to bed; he's rather cranky. Drink this." A vile potion was poured down his throat, which Regulus barely succeeded in keeping down. "Skele-gro. You've broken your wrist, collarbone, leg, and a few ribs."
"Andi?"
"Two for two!" Sirius called.
Andi noticeably ignored him. "Though, your fever has yet to break. I hate to quote Sirius, but what did you drink?"
Regulus tried to shrug and winced.
"Collarbone, Regulus," Andi said exasperatedly. Another potion, this one arguably worse than the last. It caused Regulus to start to cough like mad again. "That one was because you nearly drowned, to fix up your lungs."
Regulus nodded and shut his eyes again, thanking whoever was up there that Andi was letting him do so.
"Reg!"
Or not.
"What?" Regulus mumbled in response to Sirius.
"Tell me why your house-elf force apparated me to a weird cave where you were getting strangled by inferi."
Regulus opened his eyes slowly, then bit back a yelp when Sirius turned out to be a mere two feet away from him.
"He wasn't supposed to do that," Regulus replied eventually. This was apparently the wrong thing to say.
"Regulus, please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it does."
Regulus felt a bit like he was a petulant child being scolded. Sirius always was the only one who could accomplish that. He coughed again and blinked in an attempt to clear his vision. "What time is it?" he asked instead.
"Seven. You've been unconscious for a day."
"Short story or long story, then?"
"Both," was Sirius's short reply. Just then, Andi announced that she really needed to get home to her daughter, and that Sirius should call if she was needed. She hugged Sirius goodbye and deigned Regulus with a soft smile, which he tried his best to return, then left out of the floo. Sirius shut off the connection and crossed his arms in a silent gesture for Regulus to spill it.
Regulus nodded, and quietly began with the short story.
"Yesterday afternoon I was called into Lestrange Mansion by the Dark Lord. He gave me a mission. Up until now, my job has just been to use the Black Library to research. I don't go on raids or attacks. But this was a different job, and it sped up my plans."
"What were your plans?"
"Part of the long story. Anyway, the Dark Lord requires a test of my loyalty. I have been ordered to either recruit or kill you, in two days' time. So, twenty-four hours from now, I'm supposed to go back with either you or your head."
Sirius drew back from him, leaning against a coffee table and letting his wand drop into his hand. Regulus's eyes followed him warily. "Great," he muttered furiously. "I save your life and you're trying to kill me."
"I have no intentions of following my orders, Sirius. I'm not so stupid as to believe that you would turn coat, and I haven't killed anyone ever before nor do I have any intentions to start now."
Regulus looked over to his brother, who technically wasn't even his brother anymore. Wasn't that a strange thought, and a right lie as well. Even when he was fifteen, when he had absolutely hated Sirius for leaving home and renouncing all ties to the family, Regulus had never thought of Sirius as anything other than a brother. Said brother was now stubbornly not looking at him, so Regulus sighed, turned his eyes back to the ceiling, and continued to talk.
"As for the long story, I took the mark winter of sixth year. While I was still in school, my job was recruiting, though I didn't even do much of that. Mostly I researched, using the Hogwarts restricted section and anything else I could get my hands on. The Dark Lord –"
Sirius looked at him sharply. "Say the name."
Regulus met his brother's stare. "Voldemort," he said without wavering, though his stomach did twist a bit. "had me learning of ancient, powerful, magics. I was played masterfully, I admit. He knows all about the Blacks from Bella, of course, and he knew what to offer me to get me to do what he wanted. His whole operation works on empty promises and bloodlust, and you must be willing to believe in the first and possess the second to rise in his ranks. I have no bloodlust and am only willing to believe so much."
Sirius's gaze was unsympathetic, which Regulus felt he deserved. He was awfully unsympathetic towards himself too.
"Thus, my loyalty and infatuation with the Death Eater regime faded quickly. You don't drop out though, you serve until you die." He lifted his left arm, where he was pleased to note that Andi didn't heal the vicious slashes through his skin. "A mark on more than skin. It is dirty and tainted, a mark I will bear even after death. Forever reminding me of my greatest mistake."
There was a glimmer of something that passed over Sirius's face, gone almost immediately after it appeared. "Your greatest mistake?"
Regulus barked out a bitter laugh. "Merlin above, Sirius, have I not made it clear yet? In my mind, I'm no Death Eater. I haven't liked myself since I was sixteen because of him! He stole my mind, my youth; he stole my soul! When he ordered me to kill you or face my death, because he had to have known you would never turn, I didn't even think about going after you. Your life is so much more valuable than mine! You are loved, you love, and in the end, you will win this war because of that! I saw a chance to die for a cause worth dying for, so I took it. I took it, because it was either that or die in another day at the foot of a monster that I so foolishly made my master when I was sixteen years old!"
His voice had gotten harsher rather than louder by the end of his rant, and he was breathing heavily. Sirius's eyes were wide as he watched him, and Regulus continued in a low voice after his breathing had slowed.
"Voldemort has done awful, terrible, things. Things that would have been better lost to time, and that's coming from me. He has infringed on the basic laws of man, and there will be no mercy for him when his time comes. He has desecrated his soul, all in a frivolous hope to make it so he will never have to deal with his childish fear of death. That is why I was in that cave. A month ago, he required the use of a house elf. Bella so kindly offered up Kreacher, probably because she knew I was fond of him. Kreacher went with the Dark..." Regulus corrected himself at Sirius's look. "Voldemort, and they went to the cave. Voldemort bragged all the way, thinking that Kreacher would die soon anyway and be unable to tell anyone. Foolish of him, as any self-respecting pureblood would know that a house-elf can do almost anything to follow his master's orders. And I ordered Kreacher to come home, and house-elves can bypass almost any wards as it is. He was ill for a week after word, from the same potion that I drank."
"What is that potion?" Sirius asked with narrowed eyes, wisely ignoring the rest of what Regulus had said in his little fit of emotion. Regulus tried to shrug again, forgetting about his apparently broken collarbone.
"I don't know. It was worse for Kreacher, though, since he's so much smaller than a man. When I first drank it, it felt like a dementor but a million times worse. It caused weird nightmares, too," Regulus added, shuddering slightly as he thought of the cold, undead hands around his neck. Unconsciously, Regulus brought his non-broken hand to his neck, wincing when he felt bruises there. Deciding that he couldn't take being prone and immobile for any longer, he very slowly pushed himself into a half-sitting position against the armrest of what he assumed was Sirius's couch. "Trust me when I say I looked in everything I could find though. I think it must have been of Voldemort's own design."
"Why did you drink it anyway?" Sirius asked.
"I had to, the horcrux was at the bottom of a basin of the stuff," Regulus replied. Sirius, however, had gone deathly pale.
"He made a horcrux?" Sirius whispered. Regulus's eyes widened.
"You know what a horcrux is?" he asked incredulously.
"You weren't the only one who hid out in the library in the summers, Reg."
Regulus's mind whirled with the implications. "But… only the tomes of the darkest magic even mention horcruxes! Why would you have been reading those?"
Sirius lifted his chin. "You can't very well fight the dark arts without knowing what you're fighting, can you? I used fiendfyre to get you out of that cave; most of the dark arts are only dark if you use them with dark intent. I've killed for those I love, and I'll do it again if need be."
Regulus felt like his entire perception of his brother had been flipped on its axis. Those were almost his thoughts exactly. He shook his head to clear it, blinking at the bout of dizziness that followed. And Sirius had killed? Regulus supposed he would do the same if he had anyone he was willing to kill for. Oh, who was he kidding, he'd kill for Sirius or Andi, or even Andi's daughter with the muggleborn, who he'd only managed to meet once.
Sirius apparently took his silence differently, as his stare turned angry as it flicked to Regulus's left forearm. "Like you're one to judge," he said derisively.
Regulus blinked, confused. "I'm not judging. I would do the same, and I agree with you on all levels on your perception of the Dark Arts. I always have thought that the Hogwarts curriculum when it came to Defense was woefully pitiful."
Sirius's lips quirked into a half-smile. "You would, wouldn't you?" he said bemusedly.
It was Regulus's turn to lift his chin defensively. "Yes, I would. The Dark Lord would never have gained so much if there were more half-competent fighters out there."
Sirius didn't bother to correct him. "And he made a horcrux."
Regulus faltered. "Actually… I think he's made several. It's why he looks like he does, and he's look like that for years."
"Alright, well, that would mean he's either aiming for three or seven. Those are the most magically powerful numbers after all," Sirius said introspectively.
"Seven. Voldemort never works small. That would mean, though, that he is theoretically making six horcruxes, with the seventh part of his soul residing in his body."
Sirius nodded. "Normally I would go straight to Dumbledore, but since you went traipsing off in to a cave chock full of inferi instead of doing that, I take it you don't want to do that," he said wryly.
"I have no intentions of going from one master whose methods I don't believe in to another, thank you."
Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "I work for Dumbledore, you know. Technically."
"Oh, I know. I'm frankly surprised you don't have half the Order in here by now," Regulus shot back. "Dumbledore works mainly through guilt trips and people's sense of honor. I have no objections to his end goal, but I'll bet that he's held that incident with Snape in your fifth year over your head since then."
"How the hell do you know about that?" Sirius asked angrily.
"You didn't believe Snape would keep his trap shut, did you?" Regulus asked. "I think Dumbledore made him swear a Wizard's vow that he wouldn't tell anyone about your friend, but Severus found very creative ways to imply Lupin is a werewolf. Though frankly, any intelligent person would be able to tell."
Sirius massaged his temples. "By your tone I'd guess you knew before," he said resignedly.
"Second year," Regulus stated a little proudly. "I never told anyone. If they couldn't figure it out on their own, then I saw no reason to clue them in."
To his surprise, Sirius shot him a grateful look. "That was decent of you, Reg. Now, if you don't want to go to Dumbledore, then what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to have to die."
"No," Sirius said immediately.
Regulus rolled his eyes, but he felt a warmth course through him. "Kreacher!"
The old elf appeared, took one look at Regulus, then promptly started to bawl. Sirius and Regulus traded a look.
"Kreacher couldn't destroy the bad man's nasty necklace, no matter what Kreacher tried! Kreacher has failed Master Regulus!" The elf bashed his head against the coffee table, causing both Black brothers to jump, Sirius swearing rather fluently and Regulus to do so less loudly, rubbing at his ribs.
"That's okay, Kreacher, stop punishing yourself. Can you do something for me?"
The elf stared at Regulus with wide eyes. "Anything for Master."
"Can you alter the magic of the family tapestry?" Regulus asked hopefully.
"Kreacher can, yes," the elf said after a moment.
"Good. I want you to go back to Grimmauld, and make it so the tapestry shows that I die today. Make sure Mother sees it. Then, bring me the locket."
Kreacher nodded vigorously. "Kreacher's loyalty is to Master Regulus first. Kreacher will do what Master says, even though it will break my poor Mistress's heart."
Regulus thanked the elf, though he was fighting the urge to laugh at Sirius, who was muttering under his breath about their mother's lack of heart; his epithets were truly inspired. Kreacher disappeared with a crack, and Regulus turned to Sirius.
"Well, I'm dead. How's that?"
"I hate that thing," was Sirius's response, glaring at the spot where Kreacher had just been.
Author's note: For the purposes of this story, I'm altering Sirius's personality from the HP books just a little. Nothing drastic, but I am up-playing his intelligence and so called "Slytherin-side". I feel justified in doing this because I want to highlight how much his personality had to have changed from Azkaban. He is rash, brutal, and fiercly protective of what he feels is his, with skewed morals and a more than a bit of a dark side. One of the reasons the fic is being kept ship free is that when people try and pair Sirius with someone things tend to get pretty "sunshine and daisies" pretty fast. Call me a cynicist, but life doesn't work like that, and especially not the lives of the Black Brothers. With Regulus, his personality is an kind of an unknown, but remember this is a guy who wrote a "fuck you" note to the darkest wizard of all time. He's not a perfect mother's boy like some people seem determined to cast him as. I'm sure he has just as much reason to resent his parents as Sirius does
REVIEWS PLEASE.