Chapter Text
Regulus loved his brother's letters.
They were full of life, a small beam of light in the otherwise dark and dull Grimmauld Place. Regulus was only eleven, but he knew that this was no place for a child. He'd seen children in London, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, full of joy and hope and other emotions their fathers hadn't yet squandered. He didn't see many wizard children other than his cousins, but they all had the same forced elegance: clothes ironed flat and postures perfectly straight, raised under scrutiny and never to disppoint.
He loved his cousins as if they were siblings, but there was no one he loved more than Sirius. Sirius was there from the beginning, and it was Sirius who taught him everything of value. Sirius taught him how to spin the truth to stay out of trouble, how to please their mother and piss off their father in the same fell swoop, how to hold onto hope when things seemed dire.
"You've got to have a happy place, Reggie," said Sirius one afternoon. He was only eight, and Regulus only six, but they still knew the importance of having some kind of mental escape. "A place where he can't get to you."
Regulus was crying, sniffles seeming to echo through his room as he held his hands to his chest. His palms bled, the stinging seem to travel all the way up his arms. He'd never seen their father so upset. "I can't be happy."
"Course you can, Reg. He can't take that from you." Sirius gently pulled his brother's hands away, pressing a damp cloth to the wounds. "You have to make a happy place, somewhere he can't go."
"Dad can go anywhere."
"Not your happy place. Because it's in here." Sirius tapped the side of Regulus' head. "No one can get in your happy place unless you let them."
"Do you have a happy place?"
"Sure do. Remember when we went to our cousins' house, and we all went to play by that lake?" Regulus nodded as Sirius carefully wrapped a bandage around each palm. He spoke in a hushed tone, the same one their mother used to tell them bedtime stories. It almost made Regulus sleepy. "All the grown-ups stayed inside and no one bothered us while we played, and it was like we lived in our own little world, wasn't it? That's my happy place, that little world."
"Can that be my happy place?"
"If you want it to be," said Sirius. "But you can pick your own, anywhere you like, as long as it makes you happy."
It had taken years for Regulus to perfect his happy place, but now he could retreat into it almost as easily as if it were real. It was similar to his brother's, though not quite the same. While his brother went as far as the lake, Regulus stayed in their cousins' backyard. Bellatrix and her father had built a treehouse behind their manor (with the help of magic, of course), and the children would often spend hours within its walls, the girls telling the boys tails of studying at Hogwarts. Regulus had always felt safest there, there with his cousins and brother whom he adored and knew loved him back, where his father couldn't lash out in front of the others and where his uncle always told him what a dapper young gentleman he was growing up to be. Even alone, the treehouse was welcoming in its own way, and when the girls were away at Hogwarts and Sirius was inside entertaining the adults, Regulus would take refuge inside with a book.
Only Sirius was allowed in his happy place. They were all allowed in the treehouse, of course, but only Sirius was allowed into the one in Regulus' mind. Once, Regulus told Andromeda about his happy place; she was always the kindest to him out of his cousins, and he wouldn't mind letting her in from time to time. She seemed to forget about it after a few months, but he didn't mind. His happy place was for him, anyways.
Regulus didn't need his happy place so much when Sirius was around. Sirius could turn real life into a happy place, which seemed to be a kind of magic only he possessed, completely separate of his born wizardry. While their mother definitely had a favourite son, their father seemed to hate them both, and even his wife couldn't get in the way of that. But things were never so terrible when Sirius was there, there to sneak Regulus dinner when he was sent to bed without, there to fold paper cranes together and make them fly around the bedroom with only their minds, there to cuddle up to during a storm when being alone in his room was simply unfathomable. Sirius was the best older brother Regulus could have hoped for, and he wondered if he would ever find the words to tell him so.
The summer before Sirius turned eleven, a letter dropped through the mail slot of their front door. It was Sirius who ran to get it, socked feet padding down the carpeted hallways, still wearing his pyjamas. Regulus stayed at the breakfast table, eating his eggs quietly. Secretly, he'd hoped the letter would get lost in the mail, or perhaps never come at all. Secretly, he'd hoped that maybe Sirius was a Squib. But Sirius returned with a wide grin, and Regulus' heart sank to his feet as he watched his older brother open an envelope labelled with emerald green letters, breaking the seal marked with an unmistakeable crest.
Regulus cried himself to sleep that night, and every night after that for nearly a week. When Sirius finally came down from his high and noticed something was wrong, Regulus couldn't help but tell him the truth: he didn't want Sirius to go. He didn't want to be left behind.
"I'm not leaving you behind, Reggie," Sirius promised, holding his brother close. "I'm just scoping out the castle before you get there."
Regulus wiped his tears on his brother's jumper. "I won't be there for two whole years. Can't you wait for me, Sirius? We can go together."
"I wish we could, but it doesn't work that way. I've got to go in September, and you can go when you're eleven. Those are the rules."
Regulus was very good at following the rules, but at that moment, he would have given anything to break them. "Will you write?"
"Every week," Sirius promised. "I'll send so many letters, you'll get sick of me."
Regulus knew he could never get sick of Sirius, but he didn't bother saying so. Sirius didn't like it when things got sappy.
That September, Regulus took his first trip to Platform 9 3/4. There had never been a reason for him to go before; he and his brother would say goodbye to the girls at a dinner party on August 31, and they'd see them again at Christmas. But now he would be the only one not going to Hogwarts, the only one being left behind. He held his mother's hand as they passed through the brick wall, and he looked around with wide eyes as the rest of the family gathered on the platform. Sirius hugged his mother, shook hands with his father, then stood before Regulus with a bittersweet smile.
"You're not gonna cry, are you?" Sirius asked.
"No," Regulus mumbled, feeling like he might very well cry.
"Good. Can't have you making a scene." Sirius wrapped his arms around his brother, hugging him tightly, as if he had suddenly realized how long it would be until they'd see each other again. "It's only for a few months. I'll be back for Christmas."
"I know."
"And I'll write to you every week, just like I promised. Every Saturday, you wait for my owl, alright?"
"Alright."
They pulled apart, and Sirius ruffled Regulus' hair before heading for the train. There was a cluster of people trying to get on, and he got in line behind a boy with glasses and messy hair before turning to wave to his family.
I love you, Regulus wanted to shout, but he knew this wasn't the place for such public endearments. It certainly wouldn't bode well for any kind of reputation he was sure Sirius wanted to have.
The Black family stayed on the platform until the train was out of sight. Regulus had waved after it until he was sure Sirius couldn't see him anymore, and then his arm fell limp at his side. What would it be like, without Sirius?
Regulus woke up early that Saturday morning, waiting for Sirius' letter. He crept downstairs and curled up on the sofa, taking the cup of hot cocoa Kreacher offered him as he stared out the window expectantly. He had almost convinced himself there was no letter coming at all when he saw the familiar silhouette of their family owl soaring towards Grimmauld Place. He opened the window, struggling with the latch and nearly cutting himself in the process, but he threw open the shutters in time for the owl to perch itself on the windowsill. Regulus untied the rolled up parchment on its leg and nearly sobbed as he opened it. That was his brother's writing. Sirius hadn't forgotten.
The letter was clearly meant for Regulus. It was addressed to him, for one, and the tone was far too casual to be intended for their parents. Sirius seemed in complete awe of Hogwarts, of the castle and the ghosts and the moving staircases. They'd grown up with magic, but the school was something else entirely. The school was pure magic, magic of wonder and hope and light.
You'll love it here, Reg. I know you will.
Sirius also told him of some other first-years he'd met on the train, who shared his dorm. They sounded nice enough to Regulus. He couldn't wait to meet them. The letter ended with a promise to write the next week, and asked Regulus to give their mother a hug for him. Regulus did as he asked, then stored the letter in a box in his closet.
Sirius' letters were almost always the same. They were updates on his life at the school, though they very rarely included anything about an actual education. The boys from the train were his best mates now, and they got into all sorts of trouble. Remus Lupin was the brains behind every operation, coming up with the best pranks and often times getting away with it, though Sirius swore it was only because he was such a teacher's pet. Then there was Peter Pettigrew, who seemed nervous a lot of the time but seemed just as eager to cause mischief as the rest of them, and James Potter, who Sirius had met first and deemed his best friend. With how much Sirius talked about them, Regulus felt as though he knew his brother's friends. He couldn't wait to meet them for real.
But everything changed after Christmas. Sirius had left angrily: their father wasn't pleased with what he was hearing from the Hogwarts teachers about his son's antics, and the group of friends he'd found himself hanging around. Sirius refused to live his life according to his father's wishes, especially when he wasn't even living at home. The next Saturday, there was no owl at the living room window, and Regulus thought it was over.
When he went up to his room, however, he found the family owl sitting on his windowsill with a parchment tied to its leg. Regulus read the letter immediately, relieved to hear of Sirius' new plan to mail him directly instead of risk coming into contact with their father.
I might not be able to write as much. Sorry. I'll try to write when I can.
Regulus didn't like the sound of that. These letters were part of his routine, and the thought of going a week without hearing from his brother almost made him feel sick. But he didn't have long to dwell on it, and so he told Sirius that he understood in his reply, and that he'd be happy to get whatever letter he could. Still, Sirius never failed to miss a letter, and Regulus soon forgot all about his brother's warning.
It was spring when Sirius finally missed a letter. Regulus waited in his room for it, reading in bed and glancing at the window every five minutes in anticipation. But the owl never came, and that weekend felt a lot heavier than the other weekends. Not to be too discouraged, Regulus wrote his weekly letter to Sirius, asking how detention had gone and if Sirius had ever found his missing quill. He told him about their mother's new book club and their father's new promotion, and he ended it as he always did:
Love, your brother, Reggie.
Three Saturdays passed before Sirius wrote back, and his letter was nearly a third of the size of his usual ones. He told Regulus he was busy with school and had a big prank planned that required a lot of attention, but he hoped Regulus was well.
When the letters became few and far between, Regulus knew he needed to take matters into his own hands. He snuck into his father's office while he was out and wrote a letter to Hogwarts. The content was easy enough: there had been a mistake, and Regulus would actually be the proper age to be attending Hogwarts the following year. It was Mr. Black who had taught the boys how to write, and so their writing looked eerily similar not only to each other, but to him. Regulus was particularly proud of the way his father's forged signature looked. He sealed it and dropped it into the letter box out front, anxiety weighing on his chest.
The reply came much sooner than Regulus had anticipated. Kreacher had managed to intercept it at the front door before Mr. Black could get to it (though it did cost him a few beatings), and Regulus hid it under his pillow until he could figure out a way to tell his parents. How do you tell your family that you simply can't be with them any longer than you have to?
To his surprise, his parents took the news in stride. They were proud, even, that their youngest would be attending Hogwarts early. While they didn't approve of his methods, they were proud of Regulus for showing some accountability, taking control of his education. They didn't know the real reasoning behind it, and Regulus certainly wasn't going to tell them.
He didn't bother telling Sirius in his next letter. He waited until the summer, when Sirius came home. Regulus was afrad he wouldn't recognize his brother, he'd seemed to change so much by the sound of his letters. But it was the same old Sirius who stepped off the Hogwarts Express, where Regulus caught a glimpse of the boys who had become like Sirius' brothers. Regulus couldn't help but envy them, just a little. He didn't hold onto the feeling for very long, quickly getting swept up in the energy Sirius carried with him. Things were back to normal that summer, as if Sirius had never left.
"I'm coming with you this year," Regulus told Sirius one night. They were seated on the windowsill in Sirius' bedroom, both of them still small enough to fit together. They wore matching pyjamas and hugged their knees to their chests.
"I wish you could," said Sirius. "Just one more year."
"No, I'm really coming with you." Regulus had brought the letter from Hogwarts with him, and he pulled it out from behind him to show Sirius. "I mailed the school."
"You did what?" Sirius grabbed the letter, eyes scanning the page as he read it at an impressive rate. "Merlin, Reggie. You're mad."
"I can't stay here, you know I can't. Mum and Dad are actually proud of me...taking my education seriously." He said the last bit in an exaggeratedly posh voice, one the brothers had used to imitate their parents for as long as they could remember.
Sirius laughed at that, handing the letter back. "For what it's worth, I'm proud of you, too. You're gonna love Hogwarts. It feels so much more like home than this place ever did."
It was that promise that made Regulus so excited to go. September 1 couldn't come fast enough, and when it did, Regulus was practically shaking in his shoes. His parents showered him with much more affection than they'd given Sirius when he'd first left, but neither boy was surprised. Regulus followed Sirius onto the train, but once they were aboard, Sirius stopped him in the hall.
"I'm going to sit with my friends, alright? You can find somewhere else, there's loads of cabins."
"But—"
"I'll see you at the castle," said Sirius, and he disappeared into the nearest car. He closed the door before Regulus could even respond, leaving him to stare at the boys inside. He had names for them, and now he had faces, and it was rather obvious to him who was who. Remus was reading in his seat by the window, already in his Hogwarts robes, as if he couldn't wait for the year to start. Peter sat beside him, trying to tell a joke but interrupting himself with his own laughs, scrunching his pointed nose whenever he did so. And then there was James, the only one with glasses, who Sirius sat beside. Remus caught Regulus' eye with what looked like surprise, turning to ask Sirius something, probably who that boy was. Regulus quickly hurried away. The last thing he wanted was to be gawked at by Sirius' friends like some kind of zoo animal.
The train ride was long, but he kept himself entertained. He'd brought one of his school books with him and started to read ahead, buying a few sweets from the trolley when it passed. A boy from Hufflepuff came to sit with him, but he didn't speak much, and Regulus was too nervous to start a conversation. Could everyone tell he wasn't the proper age? Would they be able to tell when he got to Hogwarts? Would they send him back home, in front of everyone, in front of Sirius and his friends?
Regulus was properly shaking when it was his turn to be sorted. He sat on the stool and kept his hands in his lap, his back straight, as he had been taught. He looked over each table, knowing what they entailed, knowing where he should want to go. The table of silver and jade decor seemed strangely welcoming, and he could feel some kind of tug encouraging him towards it, calling out to him. That was his place, that empty spot on the bench. That was where he belonged, in the wake of his ancestors.
But then there was Sirius. He sat at a different table, a red and gold tie tucked under his sweater. He looked happier than Regulus had ever seen him at home, smiling and laughing with his friends, poking the empty dishes with his wand in hopes of conjuring some food early. He had barely looked up during the ceremony, and only did when his brother's name was called. His smile fell, and Regulus could practically see his eyes harden when he met his gaze from the stand.
Gryffindor, Regulus found himself wishing. He remembered how his parents had reacted about their eldest's sorting, how his mother had cried and how his father had gone out and not returned all evening. But he didn't care. He didn't care about them. He wanted to be with Sirius. Please, please, let it be Gryffindor.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Regulus felt his heart stop for a moment. The cheers from the Slytherin table were nothing compared to the look of disappointment on Sirius' face. Regulus took the tie and broach he was handed as he stepped off the table, and he could hear one of Sirius' friends ask: "Is that really your brother, Sirius?"
"Yeah," said Sirius, but for the first time in Regulus' life, he sounded ashamed of it.
Regulus glanced at the Gryffindor table as he passed it, just in time to see James Potter look him over and say, "Bit homely, isn't he?"
Sirius didn't say anything in his brother's defence. Regulus made his way to the Slytherin table, finding an empty seat and forcing a smile as students from the higher years welcomed him brightly. He adjusted the tie around his neck, feeling like he could cry but knowing he couldn't. In fact, he refused to. He didn't need his brother's protection. He had Hogwarts now, where he could make new friends, learn new magic. As long as he was out of Grimmauld Place, he would be fine. He'd done just fine without Sirius last year. He could do it again.