Ink and Ash
Regulus didn’t know who to hate more. Himself or Sirius. He was standing in the large, cold living room of the Black Manor, staring at the ash of the fireplace Sirius had just disappeared from.
She ripped each letter apart slowly. The colour had drained from Sirius’ face and his hands were twitching, desperate to reach out for them, desperate to read everything his friends had said after almost three weeks of silence. Their mother knew that, though. She knew the only way to really, truly torture Sirius was to bring his friends into the occasion. Not friends, Regulus realised, but his family. Their mother was sneering as she picked up the last letter; it had already been opened. Regulus saw the hitch in Sirius’ breath as he recognised the handwriting. Their mother began reading it aloud.
I’m not sure why you’re not responding but I really hope you’re okay, please write as soon as you can.
I wish you were here. I wish I could hold you and kiss you. Merlin, I miss kissing you.
I love you and I miss you,
Sirius flinched as their mother ripped the letter to shreds and let the pieces fall into the fireplace to be burned later. She took a step closer and even Regulus flinched as she raised her hand to Sirius and slapped him clean across the face. Blood trickled down his face from the serpent ring she always wore.
“I don’t know what you’ve been up to at that wretched school but if you have any sense, Sirius, you will cut ties with your filthy friends and act like the Black you are.” She gritted out. Regulus backed further into the corner of the room and cringed at Sirius’ clenched fists.
“Pete and James aren’t my friends, mother. They’re my brothers.” Regulus tried not make any noise as all the air left his lungs. “And Remus definitely isn’t my friend. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t give a bloody rat’s ass what you think about it.” Their mother practically had steam coming from her ears. But then a sly smile formed on her face.
“You don’t care, do you?” she asked, leaning closer to Sirius. To distract him, Regulus realised, from her hand, which was reaching toward her wand. Sirius kept his chin up. “Well, I guess that means you won’t care when I do this!” Regulus called out at the same moment their mother performed the cruciatus curse. Sirius screamed and it was the worst sound Regulus had ever heard. Only when Sirius was curled in a ball on the ground did their mother lower her wand. “You will send letters out to your friends tomorrow morning, demanding them all to never set foot near you again, or I will. Do you understand?” Sirius slowly rose from his position on the floor.
“Yeah, I bloody understand.” He was bleeding, Regulus noted. Bleeding, and bruised and limping and near dead. But he still managed to make it to fireplace. Their mother shot a curse at Sirius in the same moment that he shouted for the Potter’s residence and erupted in flames.
Their mother stormed out of the living room, livid and having forgotten about Regulus completely.
He left. The thought clanged through Regulus like metal. He shook his head. He should be worried, he should be running after his mother and shouting a big ‘fuck you’ at her. But all Regulus could think about was how angry he was at Sirius. It was unfair, he knew. He couldn’t even imagine the pain Sirius had just gone through, couldn’t imagine how Sirius had felt, stripped bare of all his secrets. He knew he was being unreasonable but in that particular moment he didn’t care. They’re my brothers. And Regulus wasn’t. He thought back to first year, when he’d sat in the Hogwarts Express carriage with Sirius and James and Peter and Remus. He thought about how Peter had cracked a joke and Sirius had laughed, loud and bright and happy. He thought about how he used to be able to make Sirius laugh like that. He thought about how he no longer could. Regulus was jealous; he’d admit that without hesitation. But what got to him was that he was jealous for the completely wrong reasons. Regulus had felt numb and bitter when his mother had read that letter, when Sirius had said those things to her. But it wasn’t because his mother’s actions sickened him, it was because Sirius was defending someone else.
All the scars on Sirius’ back were Regulus’ fault, he knew that. Whether Sirius had taken the fall for him or whether Regulus had just failed to do anything, they were his fault. But even when Sirius and Regulus no longer talked, or played hide and seek together, or climbed into each other’s bed and fell asleep to the sound of yelling downstairs, Sirius had always defended Regulus against their mother. He’d always taken the punishments, had always stepped in front of Regulus when a spell was cast or a hand was raised. And in some sick, twisted way, that was how Regulus knew Sirius loved him. They could spend a whole year without glancing at each other but then Sirius would shove Regulus out of harm’s way and he knew that some part of Sirius still cared for him.
Regulus decided that he did, in fact, hate himself more. Only a true monster could think like that. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe Regulus was just like his parents.
He crouched down in front of the fireplace and picked up a piece of scorched parchment.
I love you and I miss you,
Regulus ran his hands through his hair and cringed. He remembered the day he’d stopped talking to Sirius at school. It was toward the end of third year. He was in Hogsmeade, walking along the main street with Bella, when he’d seen Sirius, hand in hand with Remus, walking out of Honeydukes with the biggest grin Regulus had ever seen. He had decided, then and there, that he wouldn’t burden Sirius with his problems anymore. Sirius never accepted that Regulus had stopped talking to him, though. He ran after Regulus any chance that he got, he pestered him when they came back for the holidays, he even sat down at the Slytherin table once, just to get his’ attention. But Regulus didn’t budge. If he stopped talking to Sirius, if he made people forget that they were related, maybe Sirius would smile like he had that day more often. If everyone forgot that Sirius was a Black, maybe Sirius would forget too. Regulus hadn’t realised how much it would hurt when Sirius became a Potter, though.
And he definitely hadn’t imagined the moment Sirius would no longer try to catch his eye when they passed.
He still managed to make it to fireplace. Their mother shot a curse at Sirius in the same moment that he shouted for the Potter’s residence and erupted in flames.
And Sirius hadn’t even batted an eyelash at Regulus.
Sighing, he stood as his mother called for him. His mother, not Sirius’. No, Regulus was alone now, and it was no one’s fault but his.
