Chapter Text
Regulus was running. Something was wrong. Sirius and Walburga argue everyday, it didn’t matter what it was, every single day without pause they would argue but today they were silent. And Regulus realised he hadn’t seen Sirius the entire day. It was odd even though they hadn’t had a proper conversation in a while they still saw each other around, indirectly helped each other by it wasn’t the same.
They were both emotionally mature enough to realise they were both at fault but still childish enough not to reconcile immediately.
Regulus made his way around the house glancing at corners he’d normally find Sirius in. Either sneaking food from the kitchen, hiding in the attic or slouched in the secondary study. He slowly opened Sirius’ door to find it empty in all senses of the word, He had to double check to make sure he was seeing true. He rarely came in here ever since their fight but he didn't expect the life to be so drawn out, dead even.
The sight almost sent him to his knees, no it did send him to his knees, he barely felt the sting on his knees. He casted spells over and over again before reciting the same one.
Homenum revelio.
Yet nothing moved.
All his discarded clothes which were usually just thrown about were gone, akin to unruly ghosts having moved on, the unruly bed was made and ironed cleaned. The memorabilia that he kept around his room, gifts from his friends that he cared for more than his own family were gone from their places. The ‘Iconics’ that he’d rather die than remove from the walls were gone leaving a lighter spread of shapes on the wall.
It truly looked like a room benefitting the status of a true Black. It made Regulus sick. Sirius was only black in name alone, he proved it time and time again…
But what if Walburga got him?
What if she made him what she wanted?
Regulus shook his head. Sirius would rather die Head pounding and heart accelerating Regulus tore open the walk in closet. It was usually always so filled to the bri-
Empty
Bathroom?
Barren
Regulus tore through the house a silent ghost in panic. He made no noise, his face a blank canvas, his movements perfectly choreographed in order to not attract any attention upon himself lest he enacts the fury of his parents.
He casually asked the elves under the guise of looking for an item in the older man's possession, the portraits, the animated objects yet no one had seen Sirius. He slumped against an empty corridor as he gasped in the cold silence, making his heart even tighter.
Was he gone?
No, he wouldn’t leave me
A dark twisted voice uncoiled and wounded itself tightly around the boy's neck, a being created from years and years of self-doubt and self-hate.
Wouldn’t he? The favourite abandoned by the black sheep
Eyes blurry Regulus slowly made his way to his room. Slowly sinking into himself as his mother passed, barely sparing him a glance. He was glad for the moment alone he couldn't bear speaking with either of his parents, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep his stance.
He needed a shower. And something alcoholic. Both were in his room.
He opened the door to his room, to be met with frozen shuffles. A grinning Sirius greeted him as he twirled his wand, spelling the suitcases and boxes into thin air. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed but it was Sirius. He wasn’t gone!
“Sirius..?” His voice cracked and raspy. He hadn’t spoken to anyone the entire day. “What are you? Why?” Sirius paused as he stepped forward towards his brother,
“Reggie. I'm running away and you're coming with me.” he couldn't even let it sink in how his room had twinned with Sirius, how the room which barely had anything of fraternal note had been made emptier.
Sirius grabbed his hand and they were both flung out the window onto an awaiting soft-ball.
“Sirius, wait!” Regulus wrenched his hand free from Sirius as he gathered his thought. Running where? to whom? “They'll find us.”
“They can't, they won't.”
“Sirius.”
“reg”
“Our parents have people so deep in their pockets, they'll let us have our fun but they only need one.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he picked up from James.
“They'll never get even a hair on our heads.”
“And if they do? If one day you wake up and I'm not there?” Regulus felt his eyes burn. He was entertaining a delusion, he needed Sirius to see reason all the while letting himself get lost in the delirium.
“I'll get you back!” Sirius exclaimed like it was that easy.
“And if they frame it as a willing leave, if they plan it so well?” Sirius turned his head refusing to accept it but Regulus plowed on. “I left on my own accord, what then? Radio silence till my inevitable death in the daily prophet?”
“Please Regulus, this house is a toxin, this family is a poison we cannot get immunity from, if we stay we'll only get sicker, both of us married off in the blink of an eye, expectations higher than mountains if i die you'll take arms as the spare, then you will die and then what? We wasted our lives in the hopes that this line would eventually ruin when all we did was add more oil to the working machine. Take my hand Regulus.”
Tears started to roll down Regulus’ face and Sirius brushed them away.
“I don't want that.”
“Me neither.”
“That's the most sense I've heard you speak…lets go.”
“Let's go?” Sirius asked, hand stretched out, a glint of something wicked in his eyes.
Regulus glanced one more time at the horror he called home.
“Yeah.”
Together they sprinted across the vast estate to the boundary where they could apparate from there. The cold wind whipped at Regulus’ pale face sending his pitch black hair back revealing his hidden freckles. His eyes glowed a shine Sirius hadn't seen in years.
Neither knew when they started laughing, joyous boyish laughs that carried far and wide, separating into little chuckles that only properly ceased when they reached the potter’s house.
James Potter looked at the now rosy cheeked Regulus and smiled.
“Well I'll be, both birds have been set free.”
“Don't turn into a philosophical brat on me, Prongs, I might have immunity but he doesn't you might make him make a break for it.”
James laughed, head tossed back and full of mirth. Regulus felt his heart skip.
James Potter son of Fleamont Potter and Euphemia Potter one of four best friends to Sirius Black and my first amour de garçon.
I'm living in his house.
It makes sense though, where else would Sirius be so elated to live.
Maybe If he had know, he might have helped pack.