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- Regulus was born with wrinkled feet and tiny, nearly translucent fingers. He was small and quiet and pale, and the tuft of hair on his head was so fine and soft it was more of a hint than a promise. He was also six weeks early. The star charts said the day he was due was for weaklings and cowards, and his mother didn't believe in taking chances. She thwarted nature with the help of a potion, and chose a day she felt was more favourable.
- Unfortunately, that day was already taken. Regulus came into the world exactly one year after his brother, almost to the minute. It was their first (and only) lesson in sharing. Sirius never forgave Regulus for stealing his birthday, and Regulus never forgave Sirius for having it first.
- Sirius did everything first: walk, talk, recite a spell and hold a wand. He was put on the tapestry first, he learned the family history first, and he did his first accidental magic when Regulus was still in skirts. He was given dress robes before Regulus, he was allowed to eat with the adults before Regulus, and he drank his first glass of wine a full year before Regulus did, on the day his Hogwarts letter arrived.
- He was also the first to be Sorted outside of Slytherin, but it was five more years before Regulus understood what that meant.
- Regulus thought Kreacher was a good elf, and he didn't understand why Sirius hated him so, or why his mother kicked and shouted at him. Kreacher was kind to Regulus; he kept Regulus' clothes and hair neat, and he sometimes sneaked Regulus treats between meals. He always had time to play with Regulus, and he never complained when Regulus cheated at Gobstones. Kreacher was also afraid of thunder, the same way Regulus was. On stormy nights, Kreacher crept into Regulus' bed, tucked himself in the curve of Regulus' arm, and sang stupid songs about sunshine and summer. His voice was raspy and hoarse, like yellowed paper or crumbling stone, but Regulus thought it was much more pleasant than the howling of the wind.
- Regulus' first spell was Incendio. He was seven years old, and he cast it with a weathered stub of a wand he found in a box of his grandfather Pollux's things. Faced with his mother's fury and the smoking remains of a potted tentacula, Regulus lied. He said he'd learned it from Sirius, and his mother pressed her mouth into a thin, hard line. Incendio was one of her favourite spells; she had used it on Kreacher the night before, because he'd over-steeped the tea.
- Sirius' first spell was Serpensortia. He put the snake in Regulus' toy chest.
- The year before Regulus left for school, Grimmauld Place was silent and still. The walls whispered and the floors creaked and sighed, but his mother only stirred to speak of his duties. Responsibilities. Sirius was a disappointment. A disgrace. An embarrassment. Gryffindor was the home of braggarts and fools, and red and gold were the colours of shame. His mother's words were taut and clipped. Bile dripped from her tongue, badly hidden in the corners of her mouth, and his father didn't speak at all.
- The Sorting Hat had a voice like Kreacher's, dry and brittle and old. It was a dusty, sour-smelling thing; the grey, fraying brim slid down over his eyes, twitching against his nose with every word. The Great Hall disappeared, save for a small slice of candlelight just past his knees where strange shadows danced with his feet. Regulus tried not to sneeze. When it asked him if he'd rather be with his brother, Regulus only needed seventeen seconds to decide.
- Regulus went out for Quidditch in his second year. He flew well that balmy, September afternoon, cutting a sharp, green streak against the cloud-gauzed sky, and after twelve short minutes of pursuit, the Snitch fluttered right into his waiting hand. Gryffindor made Sirius a Beater later that evening, but Regulus was the youngest Seeker Slytherin had seen in generations, and he had finally, finally, done something first.
- The next morning, Slytherin's veteran Seeker, Malecarius Rosier, was found wandering the Transfiguration corridor in a daze. He was dressed in his Quidditch kit, despite having failed to attend trials, and seemed unaware of anything except his name. A botched Memory charm was suspected, as was a tumble down the stairs, but no one ever figured out what really happened. Regulus practised every day for two hours before dinner, and pretended he didn't know the answer.
- Life became a game. Strengths and weaknesses were exploited equally, and everything was turned toward the advantage. There were no friendships in the dungeons, but with the proper leverage, alliances might be made and secrets might be kept. An affinity for Potions balanced a talent with hexes. Mulciber developed webbing between his fingers and toes, and Snape pretended not to notice when Regulus watched Sirius in the halls. Avery's pet kneazle came down with the flux, and Regulus never let it slip that Snape's heart was really red and gold.
- Sirius was a gamble; some days were worse than others. With his friends, he was reckless, boorish, and rude. Without he was sullen and unpredictable, craving Regulus' attention one minute and abhorring it the next. He spat on Regulus when Slytherin beat Gryffindor, hugged him when Gryffindor beat Hufflepuff. He tripped Regulus in the halls on the morning of their birthday, but later that night, he showed Regulus how to sneak into the kitchens by tickling the pear. When he heard Regulus was good at chess, he hexed the pieces into disobeying orders. When he discovered that Regulus had never been kissed, he righted the situation with a Sugar Quill and a dare and a well-placed smile.
- Narcissa kissed him in Grimmauld Place's back garden, under the corpse of an oak that had been in the family almost as long as the tapestry. It was a grey, December morning, and the heavy sky was speckled with snow. She tasted sweet. At fourteen, Regulus was willing to ignore the bribery coating her tongue, and for the next three weeks he was convinced he was in love. Nearly a year passed before he was kissed again, and it was very different by comparison. It was a drunken accident in a dusty broom cupboard, and he and Snape never spoke of it afterwards.
- He kissed Bellatrix some years later, on a broken, starless night that stank of ashes and death. A dull ache curled through his arm, and he smiled against her mouth when her teeth scored the swell of his lip. The wind was silent, but his blood rushed in his ears. She was a Lestrange by then, and at the height of her madness. Rodolphus' temper was legendary, but she did not belong to either of them, and Regulus didn't have much longer to live.
- Sirius ran away on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Shimmering with sunshine and heat, the June air was thick and indolent, and Sirius' tirade rattled against the stillness of Grimmauld Place. His mother hexed the doors, so Sirius crawled through a window. He took his broom, his trunk, and the owl his mother said was no longer his, and Regulus watched him leave from the top of the stairs. His mother turned away. She studied Regulus with calculating eyes as Sirius shrank into the distance, and she never spoke his name again.
- It was cold the night Regulus joined the Dark Lord, but the chill did not touch him. He was chosen. Invincible. He was fuelled by wine and youth and delusions, and when the Dark Lord beckoned with a single, silent nod, Regulus knelt without question.
- He was never jealous of Sirius' friendship with James Potter.
- He also didn't understand it.
- It was a badge of honour, but it had to be kept hidden. He was proud to serve, but he wasn't allowed to speak of it. The first time he rolled up his sleeve, his skin was still red and raw and sore. The pain had ebbed but it hadn't left; Regulus didn't yet realise it never would. The lamps fluttered as a draught crept through the house. Shadows wreathed his mother's face, and she smiled for the first time in Regulus' memory.
- He killed twenty-six people. Twenty-six. Twenty-six.
- The game never changed, only the stakes. A Malfoy cousin turned up dead, and Snape forgot that Regulus knew where Sirius and his friend Lupin were living. MacNair lost two fingers on his left hand, and Regulus ignored the tightness in Snape's jaw the day Potter married his Mudblood girlfriend.
- Over time, Cruciatus became easier. It became easier, but it was never easy.
- There were many reasons. Many. The madness. The extremity. The weight and endless finality of murder. There was the Dark Lord -- who said he wanted to protect the interests of purebloods but wanted to rule the world, who said he wanted to go down in history but wanted to live forever -- and there was Kreacher, bruised and wet and sobbing. Kreacher, who'd given Regulus treats and let Regulus cheat at Gobstones and sang Regulus to sleep because they were both afraid of thunder. There were many, many reasons, and in the end, stealing the Horcrux was the easiest decision Regulus ever made.
- But then, so had been taking the Mark.