Chapter 4: Chapter 3: September 1977 - May 1978
Summary:
Regulus rides an emotional rollercoaster.
Notes:
Hey!! I'm back with another chapter yay, finished my uni work quicker than I'd planned so here we are.
Hope you enjoy this chapter, I nearly cried in two different points while I did the final read over even though it's mostly angst and drama.
As always, let me know what you think, I love reading all your comments xxx
The next chapter will be a banger, you'll either get a new character then or in chapter 6, I'll see when I write it, but look forwards to that. I'll aim for Friday, but will definitely be by Sunday!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
September 1977-May 1978
Regulus finishes his first day of sixth year with a whole new perspective.
He's a Death Eater, a Black, and a Slytherin, and he's finally embracing it. After returning from Dumbledore's office, he walks through the common room and, upon seeing Mulciber's gang crowded around a table, beelines straight for them.
"I'll be joining you tonight."
If Mulciber is surprised, he doesn't show it, simply grinning as he says, "I knew you'd come around, Black; meet us by the edge of the forbidden forest at midnight. And bring your friends, the more the merrier, I say."
It doesn't end up being merry at all, or not for the muggles anyways.
Barty and Evan come along, who seem more than willing to finally enjoy a part of the action. They usually just do whatever Regulus does, but they're ready to follow along with his evident change of heart, even if they don't know the reason. So as midnight approaches, they put on their darkest robes and sneak out of the castle.
Mulciber and Avery are already there when they arrive, and Travers, Nott and Snape show up shortly after. The rest of their gang graduated last year, but only some were initiated, and those still at Hogwarts are desperate to gain the Dark Lords' tattoo of approval.
If they were jealous before of Regulus having a free ticket to becoming a Death Eater, it's nothing compared to how they are now that he's got the mark. Mulciber's usually brown eyes are green with envy, and Snape keeps shooting furtive glares at his forearm every few minutes. With every hateful glare or bitter glance Regulus receives, he simply smirks back in response.
I'm a Black, remember, and that means I'm better than you, each smirk says. Even the Dark Lord can see it.
He's more grateful than ever to have Barty, who is simply there because his father would hate it, and Evan who goes wherever Barty goes; neither of them minding where they end up so long as they're together.
Barty used to want to make his father proud until he realised that he never could, and now he's rebelling against him in any way he can. If he's going to be treated like a disappointment, then he's going to make sure that he's earned his title. He's sure torturing muggles and destroying entire villages is most certainly going to do it.
It's the opposite of Regulus, who bent and folded the best parts of himself away so that his parents would only see what they wanted to see, so that he would only be who they wanted him to be. It worked, though; they're finally proud of him, so he can't complain too much. He only hopes that he remains enough for them and doesn't allow the pressure to reach a breaking point like the one that Sirius met the summer before last.
Sirius used to wear their disappointment like a cloak of honour, while Regulus feels like it wraps around his body, choking him, suffocating him, until his only choices are to do better or die.
Sometimes, it takes everything in him not to choose the latter.
In any case, they're undoubtedly pleased with him now as he apparates to a small muggle town in northern Scotland, and they get to work terrorising the village.
Most of Mulciber's gang are doing their best to be a dark wizard, practising a dark spell they'd heard of and want to get right. Some are casting incendio on hedges that don't even set alight and casting blasting hexes that need to be fired three times before the windows even crack, but Regulus is a Black. He was born into a dark family of wizards, and he's evidently become one.
This is for you, Dumbledore, he thinks before he casts such a strong incendio that the town hall goes up instantly in flames; a thousand years of history glowing orange under the moonlight.
Everybody's eyes are wide with shock; he's only 16, he shouldn't be able to do that. They don't even know if their parents would be able to do that.
Regulus doesn't notice, he's too busy on his spite-driven destructive tirade, and he's walking down the street, blasting the roofs off each house he walks past, leaving a trail of tiles behind him.
Is this the Black you thought I'd be, Dumbledore? I hope you're not disappointed.
He comes across a police station attached to a prison. He knows those are the muggle Aurors and wonders what the prisoners have done to be landed inside. He wonders how many were falsely accused, given a trial with the verdict decided before the evidence had even been presented. He wonders how many people like him were put in there by someone like Dumbledore. Regulus doesn't know who they are or what they've done, but he doesn't care. After stunning every guard who tries to stop him, he vanishes the walls of the holding cells, where all the prisoners look confusedly at each other through the now blank space before running for freedom.
Maybe I'll do Azkaban next unless you lock me in there first, you prejudiced arsehole.
Houses are destroyed, bushes are set on fire, streets are filled with rubble, and Regulus eventually finishes his circuit of the town. He returns where most of the others are watching him with wide eyes, too shocked to cause any destruction of their own, not that Regulus needed their help.
They look like they want to ask him questions, ask him what changed his mind, and what spells he used to lead all of the cars in the town to create a huge pileup that bathed the village with the golden glow of fire. They don't get the chance, though, as Regulus simply says, "same time tomorrow?" and disapparates without waiting for a response.
He's walking back to the common room in his confident but casual strut, and the others who followed swiftly after almost run to catch up to him.
"Black, what the fuck was that? You almost flattened the entire village without breaking a sweat. Did the Dark Lord give you special Death Eater powers to make you better than us?"
Regulus sends a tripping jinx at Mulciber, who falls on the floor and says derisively, "I was always better than you; I'm a Black, after all," and nobody tries to speak to him again until he's back in his dorm with Evan and Barty.
"Reg", Evan says, clearly lost for words, "Reg, what happened to you? Did the Dark Lord possess you or something?"
Barty talks over him, clearly unimpressed with Evan, as he says, "how are you so fucking dim?" before turning towards Regulus. "You're so fucking hot when you're being psychotic; what bought that change along?"
Regulus wonders if Barty has ever gotten through a conversation without flirting, but all he says out loud is, "I fucking hate Dumbledore."
That's enough of an explanation for both of them; they understand the sentiment all too well.
They don't go out every night; they still have NEWT classes to prepare for next year and assignments to complete, but they go often enough.
It's a success if they feature in the daily prophet, it's a failure if they don't, and every failure makes the others try twice as hard the next night to gain the Dark Lord's approval.
This routine lasts all the way through autumn and well into winter until February rolls around and Regulus is standing in the garden of another monotonous muggle house when he's hit with a sudden realisation of pointlessness.
What is he doing? Why has he reduced himself to acting like one of the lower-class purebloods who are still fighting for the Dark Lord's approval when he's already got it? He's trying to prove to Dumbledore that he's a Black, that he's exactly who he thought he'd be, but why would he give him anything he wants?
He's been trying to prove Dumbledore right when he needs to prove him wrong. He's not going to prove he's wrong by joining the Order, absolutely not, but he's going to show him that he can be a Black and still be something great.
Regulus feels the familiar feeling of spite that seems to direct a lot of his decisions and wonders how long it will take until Dumbledore realises that he'd underestimated him.
He never would've guessed that it only takes 2 and a half years and that it's not only Dumbledore he proves wrong but the entire world.
He doesn't go on another raid with them until summer when they're getting initiated, and it's on the Dark Lord's orders. Mulciber is livid but also still jealous that Regulus has the option of whether to go or not in the first place.
The frequency of their appearances in the Daily Prophet is reduced now that Regulus isn't there, which only makes them angrier. They're not going to become Death Eaters if they can't be noticed; not all of them can be Regulus Black.
This leads to Mulciber harassing Regulus and then getting all the others in his group to harass him too, to try to get him to rejoin their murdering festivities.
"You coming tonight, Black?"
"Black, you can choose the town we go to if you come tonight."
"Black, do you want the Dark Lord to think you've given up?
Black this.
Black that.
Black, Black, Black.
They won't shut up, won't leave him alone, and Regulus reaches his breaking point in early April, just before Easter.
It's evidently Avery's turn to pester him today, and Regulus has just… had enough.
He doesn't want to go; going out with them now makes him feel like a teenager who's outgrown playing with stuffed toys.
He can't take it anymore.
"So, Black –" Avery begins, but he's cut off when without any warning, Regulus just punches him in the face.
He's never hit anyone before, and his hand fucking hurts, but boy it felt good.
He had been in the noisy corridor on his way to transfiguration when it happened, but after he'd sent Avery to the floor, the entire floor had frozen in silence.
What is Regulus Black, the Regulus Black doing even considering punching one of the Slytherins, let alone doing it? Especially a seventh-year like Avery, who is powerful, threatening, and a bully to practically everyone.
"I said no, Avery, next time any of you ask me, I'll use my fucking wand," he hisses out, just so fucking done with it all, before turning to continue down the corridor.
Everyone is still unmoving, staring at Avery, whose jaw is swollen and bleeding from where one of Regulus' rings cut it, and at Regulus, who has bruised knuckles but still perfectly styled hair, unruffled robes, and his usual calm and almost bored demeanour.
"Mr Black", Professor McGonagall calls out from behind him, evidently having heard a commotion and come out to investigate. "Mr Black, I assume Mr Potter is with–." She cuts herself off, and her eyes widen almost comically when Regulus turns around, and she realises that he's not Sirius.
" Mr Black ", she repeats, seemingly baffled in a way that she rarely is. "Whatever has possessed you to assault a fellow student, one of your housemates no less?"
"It was accidental magic; my apologies, Professor", Regulus replies unrepentantly, his facial expression unwavering even though his inner amusement grows as her eyes flick between Avery's swollen face and Regulus' matching knuckles.
"Detention Mr Black, my office tonight at 7," she says pointedly, not believing his bullshit for a second. "Now get into my classroom without assaulting any others."
"Yes, Professor", Regulus says back, still wholly unaffected by the entire situation, and he walks away with his head held high, ignoring all the disbelieving glances thrown his way.
Barty and Evan file in seconds later, having watched the whole interaction, and the look Barty has in his eye makes Regulus know that they're going to be busy tonight. They're not dating, never will date, just friends with benefits as a result of convenience, but Barty also isn't blind. Regulus Black on a good day is hot. Regulus Black, while angry and beating the shit out of one of the biggest pricks in school? Fuck me is the only thing he can say, and luckily for him, Regulus does.
Mulciber's gang still don't get the message after he sends Avery to the ground, and between them, they receive six bone-breaking spells, fourteen stinging hexes, and two full-body binds before the school year is over.
Avery never tries again.
It's early May when the seventh years graduate. Regulus hasn't talked to his brother in over a year; when he passes him in the corridors, he pretends he doesn't exist.
Pettigrew is scared of him, Lupin only eyes him with distrust, but Potter used to try to talk to him, to ask how he was doing, to tell him that Potter Manor would always be a home to him until Regulus hexed him enough that he evidently got the message that he didn't want to talk to him.
There's a big ceremony in the Great Hall, and afterwards, the entire school is outside on the lawn by the Black Lake, celebrating and laughing and talking and saying goodbyes.
Regulus isn't among them, doesn't want to be among them, shouldn't want to say goodbye to anyone. He needs to be strong, but one thing that Sirius was always right about is that he is weak. That he's a disappointment. And now he's about to disappoint his parents by associating with a blood traitor, his ex-brother.
He should know better, he should be better, but he's weak.
He's weak.
He can't help himself as he tells his friends he's returning to the dorm and then marches towards the tallest tree where the marauders and their friends are gathered around, talking, laughing and enjoying their last moment of happiness before they enter the grim reality of wartime.
Conversations die down as he walks closer, hands slipping towards wands hidden in pockets, but Regulus just stands directly in front of Sirius and stares at him for a few seconds, ignoring the others' attempts to appear threatening.
Sirius looks half confused, half annoyed, but Regulus just hisses out "si tu meurs à la guerre, je te ramènerai d'entre les morts et je te tuerai moi-même", before turning around and walking away, fuming.
He's livid, and his anger only grows as he thinks about what he's said, but it's not directed at Sirius; it's all for himself.
He's angry that he's weak.
He's a Black and a Death Eater and a Slytherin.
He shouldn't be weak, but he is.
Because deep down, he loves his brother and the next time they see each other, they're going to be in a battle on opposite ends of a wand.
He's weak, and he always has been.
Weak, weak, weak.
Confused silence surrounds Sirius until James says "What? That was your brother. What did he say?"
Sirius doesn't respond at first, too caught up in the shock of hearing his brother talk to him for the first time in over 18 months, and he has to take a moment to separate the hate-filled words from the actual message behind them.
"Sirius?" James repeats, growing concerned, even more so when Sirius smiles slightly. Sirius doesn't interact with a member of his family and come out of it happy, so he's about to ask if he's going insane when he finally speaks.
"The little shit told me if I die in the war, then he'll bring me back from the dead and kill me himself," he says incredulously, still looking at Regulus' retreating body.
Sirius is practically glowing, which is a sharp contrast to Remus, who shoots a panicked look towards the direction Regulus is walking in, and James, who bursts out with, "was that a threat? I won't let him; he can't kill you!"
Sirius had just laughed quietly, stopping James' panicked tirade and saying, "it's not a threat, Prongs, not at all.
Sirius evidently wasn't going to expand anymore, and Remus just muttered, "I don't understand you Blacks at all."
Regulus has gone home for summer again, and his initiation is tonight.
He's not worried; he's got the mark already, this is just formalities, and whether he realised it at the time or not, his whole life has just been 16 years of preparation for this moment. He knows the customs to follow, the respect to give and the prestige of the position that he is being offered.
And he wants it.
He's becoming the one thing Sirius could never be, doing the one thing that Sirius could never do, and he's making his parents proud.
It's everything he's ever wanted.
He assumes the first part of the evening will be torturing muggles which is easy enough, but instead, it's them being tortured. Voldemort literally just walks down the row of recruits and casts the cruciatus curse on them. It's not for long, maybe 20 seconds at most, but it's still long enough.
Regulus is the only one who doesn't scream, although he can't tell what that says about him. Does it mean he's strong, or does it mean he's occluded so much of himself away that he's lost his ability to feel entirely, nothing more than a cold-hearted monster.
He finds that he doesn't really care; either way, it makes him a perfect weapon.
It's one hell of an introduction to the cause they've signed up for, but it's not like any of them can change their mind if they want to back out now.
He wants this.
The second part of the evening is still in the manor, and the torture theme continues, except instead of bringing muggles to crucio, they're doing it on each other.
It only reinforces Regulus' idea that the Dark Lord is a dark, sadistic psychopath and the fact that Regulus doesn't hate this idea makes him wonder if he's one too.
A few recruits are wincing or showing expressions of horror, but Regulus finally finds the day when he's almost grateful for his abusive childhood. He's been desensitised to violence, but he's only now realising that it's to such an extent that he knows he can cast the cruciatus curse on his acquaintances, colleagues, whatever they are, without flinching. He won't even think twice about it for most of them. He doesn't know who he will be told to do it on but hopes it won't be Evan or Barty. He would be able to do it, but he doesn't want to.
Please not them, he thinks, please not –
"Regulus Black, my young prodigy, my youngest ever Death Eater", Voldemort says, interrupting his mental pleading. His voice is smooth and melodic, but it's as far away from the calming sounds of the piano that Regulus grew up playing as you can get.
"As the youngest, it's only fair that you go first and play with the oldest of my new recruits."
"Yes, my Lord", Regulus says automatically without making eye contact, even as he internally wonders how he will find out who's the oldest. It should be the one who has the most fear on their face and has body language to show that they're nervous and –
Oh.
He sees who it is.
He's pleased with who it is.
Mulciber.
Yeah, this is going to be fun.
Regulus has only cast the cruciatus curse once before, and it took a lot of effort and occluding to focus on enough anger for the curse to work. However, Regulus' burning hatred and the genuine frustration he feels for Mulciber are always at the forefront of his mind. He can never ignore it for long, so the others watch him as he effortlessly drawls out "crucio" and has Mulciber screaming within the first three seconds.
He's screaming, muscles cramping, nerves twitching, pain levels through the roof, but Regulus finds it almost calming.
He's come a long way from the first crucio he cast, where he had seen nothing but Sirius on the drawing room floor, which left him throwing up violently. But now? He's in control, and everybody knows it, especially Mulciber.
He likes being on this end of the wand.
It suddenly hits him that he's good at this, one of the best.
He's better than them.
He's spent his whole life being second best to Sirius, not strong enough for his parents, not honourable enough for the Gryffindors, but now he's found where he can excel.
As a Black.
As a Dark Wizard.
As a Death Eater.
After finishing his little epiphany, he realises that he's still got his wand trained on Mulciber, who is still moving but has stopped screaming, his vocal cords torn to shreds. He cancels the spell and says blandly, "was that sufficient, My Lord?"
Voldemort just laughs.
He laughs?
"Look at me, Regulus Black."
Regulus does, and as he makes eye contact with the most powerful wizard in history, the man he's going to serve for the rest of his life, he sees him cold, sharp and powerful but genuinely amused.
"Regulus Black, how many of my new recruits can cast an effective cruciatus curse, do you think?"
"I am unsure, my Lord", Regulus replies, wondering where this is going.
"Very few", he says. "And of these few, how many do you think can do it without flinching away, panicking, or stopping it the moment that they hear the screams that they're lucky to produce?"
"I am unsure, my Lord", Regulus repeats, confused at the strict lecture-style questioning even though he thinks he's being praised.
"Even fewer", Voldemort continues. "But none of them have ever been as competent or powerful as you. You will be a great asset to my inner circle", he finishes before sweeping down the room.
Dumbledore was wrong, Sirius was wrong, my parents were wrong, Regulus thinks. I can be good enough for someone.
He looks around, secretly pleased, and to his surprise, most of the other recruits, excluding Evan and Barty, who have known him since he was 11 and Snape, who Regulus doesn't believe knows how to produce any emotion that isn't genuine disinterest, are all avoiding eye contact with him, resolutely ignoring him, and looking down at their shoes.
Regulus realises they're afraid of him.
They're afraid.
He sees it now, how it's no longer jealousy, they're all about to receive the mark, and they never expected to join the inner circle straight away. It's not even admiration of what he can do, the spells he knows, the magical intent he possesses; it's pure blatant fear. There is a bit of respect, a bit of idolisation, and some lingering jealousy that they can't quite erase, but they're genuinely scared of him.
They don't know what he's capable of.
No one knows what he's capable of, and he's filled with an unexpected feeling of excitement that not even he knows the extent of what he can do.
They're scared that if the cruciatus curse for 45 seconds at 16 years old was effortless, what can he do if he really tries.
They're afraid of the unknown.
Of what he could do.
Of what he could do to them.
Even Regulus doesn't know the true extent of his capabilities, but he's excited to test them.
And what better place to experiment than in a war where one side is his enemies and the other is full of people that he couldn't care whether they lived or died.
The initiation continues for hours.
Unsurprisingly, none of the other recruits can cast the cruciatus curse as well as Regulus. Only half of them can cast it at all. Nott had barely been able to get the words out.
Fucking weak, Regulus had thought scathingly before turning his wand on him for instructional purposes.
This is for every time you harassed me in the library.
Travers had been given Regulus to practice on, but no matter how hard he tried, the spell wouldn't work, and Regulus had remained standing with a bored expression on his face with a hint of smug superiority.
Of course, you can't do it, I'm a Black, and you're only a Travers. You're not even in the sacred 28, he thinks, before showing Travers how it's done.
Travers screams instantly, and Regulus sends a sharp hex that feels like fire on his skin to make him shut up.
It's tragic, really, the company he's reduced himself to spend time with.
Regulus, thankfully doesn't need to curse Barty or Evan, but they're both crucioing each other, and it's turning into some sort of, game???
What. The. Fuck.
It's currently Barty's turn to curse Evan, who is screaming and writhing on the ground, but when Barty cancels the spell, they're both laughing?
"Only took 10 seconds to make me scream that time", Evan says grinning.
Barty leans closer and winks as he says, "I could shove my dick up your arse, and then I'd have you screaming in 5."
Oh.
They're using the literal torture curse for flirting? Foreplay? Regulus doesn't know and also really doesn't want to know, but whatever.
Only Barty would flirt and make sex jokes at a literal Death Eater initiation, but fine.
It's fine.
At least they're enjoying themselves.
The torturing doesn't last much longer until Voldemort stands up, signalling for the existing Death Eaters to stand too, and then he looks around the room smiling.
This can't be good.
"My new Death Eaters, about to join my ranks, the last element of your initiation will be to check your prowess and potential." He waves his wand, and apparation coordinates hover in the air, written in fire.
"Apparate now, and we will commence this raid in 10 minutes."
Regulus pulls his wand out, getting ready to leave when the sound of his name pulls him up short.
"Regulus Black, my young prodigy. Come to me."
Regulus has no idea what to expect, what's going to happen, or what he even wants to happen, but he's not afraid. He's Regulus Black, after all, so there's nothing that Voldemort could ask of him that he wouldn't be able to do.
He stands in front of Voldemort, who waits until the remaining Death Eaters have disapparated, before he says, "I am in need of a House Elf."
What? Regulus thinks bewilderedly, waiting for more details because, what? However, Voldemort seems to be waiting for his response.
"I have a House Elf that you are welcome to use, My Lord", Regulus says back levelly, even though in his head, he's really fucking confused and is hoping he said the right thing.
"How kind of you, my young prodigy", Voldemort replies, almost mockingly. "Have him come to me at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Yes, My Lord", Regulus replies dutifully, "I will call him now and order him to be ready in case you need him earlier."
"Yes, yes, you will be a wonderful asset", Voldemort says, pleased, before he disapparates without a goodbye, leaving Regulus alone in the room.
"Kreacher", Regulus calls out, smiling when he sees his friend appear before him.
"Young Master Regulus is calling Kreacher, and Kreacher is responding. How can Kreacher serve today?"
"I need you to come to the Dark Lord at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning, but to be prepared to leave early if he needs you before then", Regulus says. "I don't know what he wants you to do, but I need you to follow his orders and then come back when you're done, alright?"
Kreacher just nods his head dutifully, saying, "yes, young Master Regulus, I will do as you ask", before snapping his fingers and disapparating.
Regulus takes a deep breath and then does the same.
He arrives in a park where a group of muggles were playing some game with a ball, except now they're all lying dead on the field, surrounded by the other Death Eaters.
"It is time to play", is all Voldemort says, and then everyone branches out and begins working to bring the town to the ground.
Fire, screaming, torture, laughter, crying, dying, destruction, pain.
The village is almost flattened, and all the muggles have either been killed or tortured to insanity when the sound of apparation fills the air.
A few panicked glances are shared, wondering if the Aurors have shown up, but Voldemort looks ecstatic.
"I have a treat for you that is even better than muggles, it seems", he says with a wicked smirk, "it's Dumbledore and his little group of soldiers."
No.
No, no, no.
Dumbledore can't be here.
The Order of the Phoenix can't be here.
Because if they're here, then so is Sirius.
Regulus sees him instantly, his hair a little longer, his face a little more tired, but it's still Sirius, and as weak as it makes him to admit it, it's still his brother.
The fight commences, and the air becomes a kaleidoscope of spell-fire, fluoro greens leaving the Death Eaters' wands and the blood red of stunning spells coming from the Order.
Everybody is moving, trying to take out the pawns so they can get to the kings, and Regulus sees it all. He's not trying to plan some complicated strategy to get Dumbledore, though; he only wants one outcome from this fight, and it's Sirius' survival.
If he has to kill every member of the light so Sirius can live, he'll do it.
If he has to kill every member of the Death Eaters so Sirius can live, he'll do it.
If he has to kill himself so Sirius can live, he'll do it without hesitation.
Regulus is a bad person who belongs in a war, but Sirius is so infuriatingly good and Gryffindorish that he doesn't deserve to suffer.
Sirius doesn't deserve to die, so instead of launching spells at the Light, Regulus casts a shield charm around himself that will repel most curses and focuses on the Death Eaters.
Most of them are duelling in groups of 2 or 3 against those on the light side, and it's a fairly even fight.
Groups are running, chasing, hiding and hunting.
There's blood and injuries everywhere.
Regulus refocuses on his brother, who dodges an entrail expelling curse by an inch, and before his brain has caught up to his hand, his wand has moved, and he's broken every bone in Rodopholus Lestrange's body.
Don't you fucking touch him, Regulus thinks murderously.
Despite the effectiveness of Regulus' spell, Rabastan Lestrange, who was fighting with his brother, thinks that Sirius shot the spell, and now he's fighting back twice as hard, casting spells twice as dark.
Regulus recognises the look in Rabastan's eye; it's the one he's sure he has in his own eyes now. The one that swears revenge against those who are trying to hurt the ones he loves, and Regulus doesn't doubt that the next flash of light that will come out of Rabastan's wand will be bright green.
There's an easy solution to that, though.
Regulus casts the spell first, and Rabastan collapses to the ground, dead.
That's right, you fucker, Regulus thinks, before focusing back in on the battle.
Sirius has high-fived James Potter because of course they're inseparable even now, as they celebrate the two death eaters that they just bettered, unaware that it was Regulus looking out for them like some guardian angel that dragged itself from the depths of hell.
He couldn't give a shit about Potter, although if he keeps hanging around so close to Sirius, then Regulus will have to protect him by association. If they were in Slytherin, one of them would've used the other as a human shield, but that isn't brave or noble enough for the Gryffindors, apparently.
Regardless, the fight is coming to a close. Those with injuries are being apparated away, and those who are incapacitated on the dark side are being captured by aurors.
A figure comes towards Regulus, and he raises his wand instinctively even though he knows he wouldn't use it. The person on the other side doesn't, but it also seems they don't care if they get cursed or not as they come closer and closer and closer.
Just like Regulus recognised his brother from across the field, Sirius evidently recognised him despite wearing the same robes and mask as everyone else.
He's expecting a fight, an argument, a curse, anything, but all Sirius says is, "you're dead to me", before spitting at his feet and turning around.
Regulus flinches slightly from the heat of the burning hatred in the words and watches his brother walk away for the second time.
Good, Regulus thinks, stay away from me.
It's the only way I can protect you.
He's more grateful than ever for the ugly mask that hides his tears as he disapparates away and returns to Grimmauld Place.
He's usually better at occluding than this, but Sirius has always affected him in ways others never could.
He tells himself that he's a monster, a heartless weapon, but at the end of the day, he is human, and everybody has a weakness.
And Regulus' is Sirius.
His parents are away, which he's thankful for, so he has the house to himself, but he doesn't really do anything except sulk and pity himself.
Of course , Sirius would make him feel like this, like he's an awful emotionless person, and as much as Regulus hates it there's a part of him that's grateful.
He's been so empty recently, doing what he's told, following his parents' and the Dark Lord's orders, acting in every way in a station befitting a Black and occluding any thought that wasn't anger or vengeance away, that he's almost forgotten what it's like to feel anything else.
His primary emotion is grief for a brother who isn't dead, but it's a nice reminder that he once had a life where he had someone he loved enough to miss them.
That life is over now.
He doesn't have Sirius anymore, and he doubts he ever will again.
He goes around the house, reading books, missing his brother, occluding any thoughts of missing his brother until they go away almost entirely, and waiting for something to do.
The Dark Lord hasn't called him, his parents haven't returned, and all Evan and Barty do is kill and torture muggles these days, but Regulus just can't quite be bothered.
His monotonous days end less than a week later when he's in the library, and the crack of house elf apparation sounds signifies Kreacher's return.
Regulus turns around to greet him when the words get stuck in his throat.
Kreacher is wet, practically drowned, and an uncomfortable feeling brushes over Regulus as he sees his pale and saturated body with scratches across his torso. He wonders why it feels like a signal of something to come, like a premonition or a warning.
Kreacher is heaving up water and something glittery green onto the carpet, which Regulus vanishes instantly.
"Oh, Master Regulus, Kreacher is coming back like you asked him to, but Kreacher is not feeling well. Kreacher went someplace very bad with a very bad wizard who did bad things to Kreacher."
Regulus looks up at this, an unexpected fury passing over him as he realises that, like with the muggles, house elves are just another species being dragged into a war they don't even want to fight for.
"What did he do to you, Kreacher?" Regulus asks, horrified.
"Kreacher does not want to say, for he might upset young Master Regulus. Kreacher does not want the Young Master to worry", he replies fretfully, but Regulus can't have that.
He wants to know.
He needs to know.
He can't start his revenge without context for the motivation.
Regulus takes a deep breath in and braces himself for whatever he's about to hear.
"Tell me."
Notes:
YOU KNOW WHATS GOING DOWN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (chapter after next really because next chapter is post-prologue)
Also Regulus saying he's finally good enough for someone :(((((( and him watching Sirius leave for the second time :(((((((((((((((
You can't deny that I'm delivering on the Black Brother Angst tag !! Xx