Filiopietistic: Pertaining to reverence of forebears or tradition, especially if carried to excess.
February 6, 1976
He examined the reflection with a cool concentration. Fine black robes hung off his slight frame, regal features smoothed into flawless mask, dark hair, gray eyes, pale skin. A green silk cape was fastened at his collar with a silver snake pin, emerald eyes glinting. He was the image of pureblood nobility. He looked the part of a proper wizard. So unlike the course, unrefined mass of the student body. The opposite of his loud, upstart, foolhardy brother who was a shame to the family name.
Sirius was blinded by the need for conflict. He always had been. When they were children, Regulus had watched him take up arguments with their parents, with Bella and Cissy, with Regulus himself, for no other reason than the need to argue. He was built to go against the grain. And he was foolish. He could not see that simply doing anything and everything to enrage their parents, to go against tradition, would lead him off a cliff in the end.
Tradition was there for a reason. Bellatrix married into pure blood. She was smart, always had been. She understood the dangers mixing with Mudbloods and blood traitors and other vermin presented. Andromeda married into blood so filthy she must have to wear a permanent bubble-head charm just to breathe, and look where that got her: cut out of the family. Regulus carried himself calmly, calculatingly, obeyed his parents and stayed in the rich social circles. They would look out for one another because they were all vested in the same interests.
But Sirius, he ran round the school like a maniac with that Potter and Lupin in tow and fat little Pettigrew sniveling after them. He made an idiot of himself every day, spent half his time in detentions. And for what end? To aggravate their parents? Surely his brother could not like those boys. Potter was a pureblood, it was true. He came from some money and if he stopped being such a ridiculously annoying git, shooting his mouth off about how werewolves weren't monsters and the likes, he might be decent. But how Sirius could stand Lupin, the pale, meek, brownnosing bookworm, or Pettigrew, that whiney half-wit, he could not fathom.
Surely he must realize that his 'friends' cared more for their causes and dying for those noble values than they did for his one life? Surely he knew that the moment he seemed to care more about his own survival than their causes they would throw him to the wolves?
Yes, that was why Mother made such an effort to ensure Regulus understand the importance of tradition. That he understand that he must fight for it.
A/N: Now, Regulus is about fifteen in this. It's before he becomes disenchanted. I don't think he's like this at heart. My interpretation of his true nature can be found in my one-shot 'How They Came to Leave'. I think it's a bit fairer to both Black brothers.
Okay, thank you all so much for reviewing! I got the most reviews ever for the last chapter, a whole four! :) I really need the feedback! Any thoughts/ideas/comments, go ahead and share them! :)