Despite Bellatrix telling them it was safe to go back, it was well into November before they set foot in 12 Grimmauld Place. It was late at night and Regulus had to go straight to bed, but once he got there he saw three letters lying on his pillow, just waiting to be opened.

His heart skipped a beat when he recognised the handwriting.

Sirius.

He didn't even stop to think about sleep; he got the letter with the earliest date and opened it.

Dear Regulus,

Guess what? I'm a Gryffindor! Can you believe it? It's really exciting, honestly! It's like night and day compared to home and I've already made a few friends! I'm really happy here, and I'm proud to be a Gryffindor. I'm the first Black not in Slytherin in over a century, how awesome is that? I'm writing history, here!

How are you? How are things at home? I hope Mother and Father are treating you well. Please don't tell them about my sorting, I can already imagine their reaction, and you shouldn't have to deal with it.

I really miss you, but we'll be together soon. I'll come home for Christmas and Easter and the summer holidays and then you'll come with me to Hogwarts! Maybe you'll be in Gryffindor too. You could be, you know. That hat listens to you.

Take care, little brother. Write back soon and let me know how everything is.

Love,

Sirius

He stumbled backwards and read the letter again. Surely he was just tired? Surely his brother wasn't actually a Gryffindor?

Sirius was playing with him. That's what this was, just a joke. Nothing more, nothing less.

But after the third reading he had to sit down. It wasn't a joke. It wasn't a laughing matter at all, and yet Sirius wrote about it as if it was just that. The audacity!

No, he thought fiercely. He wouldn't keep this information from Mother and Father. Sirius could choke in his excuses of caring about backlash—he didn't care. Mother and Father had the right to know; Sirius did not have the right to keep this secret, and he most definitely did not have the right to pull him down with him.

Sirius shouldn't have expected him to keep this secret. Not now, not in times like these.

So he marched out of his bedroom, down the stairs towards the drawing room. He hoped they were still in there, because this wasn't just a matter of Gryffindor and Slytherin, this was a matter of life and death. Gryffindor was dangerous. These times were dangerous. He could be dead, for all he knew!

He knocked on the door.

"Enter."

He opened the door and stepped inside, his hands trembling slightly.

"Regulus? What's wrong?" Father hurried over.

He shook his head, he wanted to say he was fine, but the words wouldn't come. There was something in his father's eyes that reminded him of that morning... of hiding beneath the table, hearing the screams and shouts of his parents, hearing (and seeing) the house crumble with them still in it. Father had looked at him like that after Bellatrix saved him. It wasn't quite pity, but he wasn't sure what else to call it.

"Sirius... he—a letter... Gryffindor..."

He just held the letter out to him, unable to form a sentence. The letter spoke for itself, but the silence in which Father read it was the longest, most tense silence he'd been in in a long time.

Father folded the letter once he was done and put it in the pocket of his robe. He turned to Mother, who sat on the sofa trying her best not to look too annoyed.

"He's mocking us, Walburga."

More silence. Father sat back down next to Mother, whose expression grew increasingly sour. "What happened?"

Regulus wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing.

"After everything we've done..." Mother got up from the sofa and started pacing around the room, muttering to herself.

"You should get some sleep," Father said. "We'll discuss this in the morning."

He stared down at his feet. "I don't think I can sleep."

Mother let out a scream but Father ignored it. "Why not?"

Everything, he wanted to say. Because of everything. He hadn't been able to sleep since September, it wasn't that strange! It wasn't his fault, either.

But instead of going on about that second September, with all its terror, he simply said: "I can't find my puffskein."

Father sighed whilst Mother slammed a fist onto the mantle in the background. "You're ten. I'm sure you can manage one more night without. We'll look for it in the morning. Go to bed, Regulus."

"Yes, Father," he mumbled, leaving the drawing room just as he heard Mother shouting again.

"How dare he, how could he! After everything we've done, he... he..."

"He's a Gryffindor," he heard Father say, followed by Mother's bone-chilling shriek.

He shut the door and made his way back up the stairs to the topmost landing.

Sirius... a Gryffindor... he couldn't understand why. OK, so he had Gryffindor traits, big deal—you could still be a Slytherin! But no, not Sirius and his stupid need to always be the centre of attention. Slytherin was too common. Well, he got what he hoped for. Mother was devastated, as was he. He'd looked forward to being at Hogwarts together and now that was robbed from him. On purpose. By his big brother.

He kicked the wall and immediately regretted it, falling back on his bed clutching his foot as he waited for the worst of the pain to pass. Stupid Sirius, look what he made him do!

The pain subsided and he relaxed. He saw the two other letters, both by Sirius, and for a moment he debated opening them. Maybe there was an apology in there, maybe Sirius had been joking. Maybe he was a Slytherin and everything was back to normal.

It was tempting to check. Oh, so tempting...

"Fine," he mumbled, "just this one..."

It was dated 14th September, nearly two full weeks after the first letter.

To my dearest brother (Regulus, that's you),

It's been 2 weeks. Are they keeping my letters from you? If so: Mother, Father, bog off.

Reggie, please let me know how they're treating you. Don't let them trick you into hating me! I know they'll try. They're probably furious about my sorting. Please don't be angry at me as well. Don't be sad for me either. This was my choice. I'm happy here.

I hope you understand. Please, Regulus, let me know if you're okay. It would mean the world to me.

Missing you,

Sirius

This was his choice? Really? Had he really just read that?! He threw it aside, and tossed the last of the letters to the floor with it, still unopened. He had no use for it, they all said the same thing anyway.

Sirius had betrayed them. Willingly. How long before he became nothing but a black mark on the tapestry? He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't think about it... was a Gryffindor Sorting bad enough to do that? He wasn't sure. He didn't know what others were blasted off for—that's the thing, nobody ever talked about it. How was he to know?

It seemed wrong, blasting him off the tapestry for being a Gryffindor. But him being a Gryffindor was just as wrong. Dangerous, even. Despicable. But two wrongs didn't make a right...

But then again, Bellatrix had said there was no wrong or right, so maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe it just was. Whatever was to happen would happen and that was the end of it. With no wrong and no right...

His head hurt just thinking about it. Maybe he'd ask again, tomorrow. For now, he was tired.

Hurried footsteps, shouting, silence. A white tablecloth obstructing his view as he hid beneath the table. For a moment, all he heard was the deafening sound of his own heart beating against his chest. Then—a roar, a blinding light, something falling to the floor.

"Get the hell away from my family!" Father's voice. He stirred, wanting to get away. More flashes of light; red, white, orange—they were hurling towards him and he had no place to hide.

The scent of burning debris. Bricks flying through the air, landing atop the table, clattering down as rain on roofs.

A jet of red light. "There's another one!"

More footsteps. Flash—bang—Avada Kedavra!

He gasped for air and sat upright with clammy hands and a nightshirt that stuck to his body. He pushed himself out from under the covers and hobbled over to the window, opened it, and breathed in some of the fresh air. It always helped him calm down after a nightmare.

A nightmare. That's all it was. He was safe here. He was at home, he had nothing to fear. Mother and Father were here, just downstairs. Bellatrix... she wasn't here. He stared out of the window, wondering where she was. Was she at home? Was she out there, somewhere, fighting more Aurors as she had that day?

It was still dark out, but he had no intention of going back to bed. He had no intention of going back to that scene that kept haunting him, that kept tormenting him. No, it might be early, but he was fine being awake.

He got ready for the day, then tiptoed down the stairs. He didn't want to wake his parents, or the people in the paintings. They deserved their sleep, even if Regulus didn't get to.

He went down to the kitchen, which was empty. He opened the door to the boiler room, where Kreacher slept, and stared at the sleeping house elf for a bit. He had wanted to wake him up, to ask if he could have something to eat, but... now he was here, and the elf was sleeping so peacefully, he just couldn't bring himself to disturb him.

He shut the door and sat down at the kitchen table, head in hands. He was such a mess. What would Sirius—no. Sirius didn't deserve his thoughts, not now. Not after what he'd done.

He needed his puffskein. The better Sirius.

And so, he spent the rest of the night looking everywhere for the little creature. He looked behind and beneath sofas and armchairs, checked every corner of every room, opened every drawer... nothing.

Sirius-the-puffskein had abandoned him, much like his namesake. He never should've named it Sirius, that was a stupid name. It was as if he had asked for it to abandon him. That's what Sirius did, puffskein or human, he liked to abandon people.

By the time noon came around and he had finished his lunch, he made his way go the drawing room. He had to talk to Bella. They had arrived via Floo powder, so he knew it had to work. It just had to. Of course, he could always send an owl...

"Bella?" he called out, sticking his head into the fire. He could see Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus' drawing room, but Bellatrix wasn't there. The only one there was Andromeda, who sat on curled up on the sofa with a book. What was she doing here? Hogwarts was still—oh, he was so stupid! She had already left, last summer... this was what happened when he couldn't visit his cousins. Mother and Father never should've isolated him.

He put his frustration in his call. "Bellatrix!"

Andromeda looked up from her book. "She's out."

"Out? Out where?"

"Running around with her Death Eater buddies, I suspect," she hummed, going back to reading.

"What are death eater buddies? Do they eat dead things?"

She snorted. "No, no, nevermind then."

"But now I wanna know!"

"Ask her next time you see her. I'm not about to explain all that."

He sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position. Maybe he really should've just sent an owl... "Are you still mad at me?"

She put down the book. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because... because I overheard you saying you're in love that time..."

She gave a chortle. "You think I'm mad at you for that?"

"Well... you never talk to me!"

"We're very different people, Regulus," she said calmly, "and I hate to say it, but I'm seven years older than you..."

"That's not fair, you talk to Sirius all the time!"

"Sirius is different," she replied coldly.

So that's what was going on. He wasn't good enough for her, Sirius was better, Sirius was different. "Sirius can rot."

"That's not a very nice thing to say about your brother," she mused, opening her book again.

Oh, she was so annoying. He could see why she and Sirius got along well, with this attitude of hers... "Why do you like him so much?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

But she just repeated herself. "You would not understand."

He could rip ouf his own hair, but thankfully he was spared of doing so because the door to the drawing room opened and Bellatrix came storming in. "Andy, I—Regulus! What a lovely surprise!"

"He was looking for you," Andromeda said.

"He was? Oh, Andy, can you give us some privacy?"

She looked at her from behind her book. "You do realise I was here first, right?"

"You do realise I don't care, right?"

They glared at each other for a few seconds before Andromeda got up and stormed out of the room.

Bellatrix smiled and sat down on the sofa. "Come, it's easier when you're actually here."

With one final glance into the drawing room back home, he decided that yes, it was easier to talk face-to-face (and better for his back). Mother and Father wouldn't miss him, he'd be back before they knew it.

He took some more powder and travelled to his cousins' place, sitting down on the sofa next to Bellatrix.

"I heard Sirius is in Gryffindor," she said.

He sighed. "How do you know?"

"Cissy told us. I didn't want to bother you with it, with everything going on."

He shrugged. "He's so proud of himself for doing this. I don't understand him... I wish he wasn't in Gryffindor. He even wants me to join him there!"

"It's just a house. I know what you're thinking, but it's just a house. He hasn't really done anything wrong."

"He chose this."

"It wasn't a good decision, but it's not the end of the world."

"Gryffindor is dangerous and he wants me to go there, to the dangerous house, and what if I'll actually end up there and-"

"You won't be in Gryffindor," she said firmly.

"What?"

"You're better than him, Reg. You'll get into Slytherin."

"If I'm not, I'm not going," he said, "if I'm not in Slytherin I'll just go to Durmstrang of something."

She chuckled. "That's a good solution. You won't need it, though."

He smiled. Yeah, she was right. He wouldn't need it. As she said; he was better than Sirius. He had always been better than Sirius. This was just another way for him to show that he was the good son, and Sirius the failure.

He deserved that, for abandoning him like this. For accusing Mother and Father of things they didn't do. Yes, his patience with Sirius was running thin, and he knew just how to deal with that.