Work Text:
November 2nd, 1975
Late autumn air silently whistled through the grounds of Hogwarts, in little sighs, telling a strange tale of a time much better once. Weaving in and out, gently gliding over the long grass, silently stirring in agreement, by the Black lake. It rustled softly passing by the last of the yellowed leaves, as if reassuring the castle's inhabitants of some faint light of a time far way, amidst the dark and foreboding future.
Maybe in another life...
The future, that hung heavy in the air of Hogwarts, like fog after a cold December night.
Sirius Black sat by the Quidditch Pitch, his legs perched against the benches below, on the very top of one of the many stands.
The sun had already begun to set, team practice ending over an hour ago, yet Sirius found himself unable to move from his current position. It was starting to get cold, and the warm fire of the common room suddenly felt very appealing. But something seemed to hold him back.
So, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, he stayed where he was, silver rings glinting off his pale fingers, beneath the soft moonlight, his thoughts wandering between people— loved and unloved. Places known and unknown. And the upcoming war that he knew he eventually had to fight in.
Maybe in another life...
If he hadn't been so engrossed in his thoughts, Sirius maybe would've, out of the corner of his eye, spotted a figure walking towards the Quidditch Pitch through the shadows. However, as the figure approached, he seemed to take notice of it and squinting closely, he could make out a Gryffindor uniform. Sirius was shrouded in the dark, in a way that prevented him from being seen at a glance from the grounds below.
He was, therefore, obviously surprised when the figure promptly started climbing the stands, walking towards him.
“How did you find me?” Sirius mused, as one bespectacled James Potter, tousle haired and cheeks flushed, huffed and sat down beside him.
“Saw you at practice today, figured you'd be here. It's your favourite place, after all,” the other boy replied. Sirius smiled to himself, despite the foreboding thoughts running through his mind a few moments ago.
Maybe in another life, where we weren't as broken...
“Why didn't you return to the common room earlier? Peter and I brought Butterbeer and snacks,” he said, passing Sirius a bottle of the delectable drink, while opening one for himself.
“Didn't feel like it” he replied, taking a small sip and immediately feeling warmth spread through his body.
James took another gulp, and blew out a breath, it smelt like pumpkin pie, Sirius noted. They lapsed into a comfortable silence.
This was one of the special things they had in their friendship, the times spent together were never awkward, and Sirius was truly grateful for that. Given his present condition of mind, he really could use some peace and quiet to be honest, however unlike him that sounded.
After a few minutes of silence, however, James spoke up, “What are you thinking about?”
Sirius contemplated telling him for a minute, after all James was his best friend; he had known Sirius at both his best and worst of times.
After moving in with James into his parents' house last year, his health, both physical and mental, to say the least, had significantly improved. Euphemia Potter had made sure of that. Of course, none of it would've been possible in the first place without James' insistence to escape that hellhole.
It was in one of these twilight moments, when he actually thought about how much James had done for him, and his heart couldn't help but feel lucky.
The hazel eyed boy, looked over to him, with eyes filled with nothing but sincerity, he silently took hold of Sirius' freezing hand.
“You can tell me anything, you know that, right? I won't judge you.”
Sirius sighed, he knew that if there was anyone he could openly talk to about the ongoings of his mind, it would be James.
And so he did. Tilting his head, looking up towards the greying November night sky, “Regulus.”
Maybe in another life, where we weren't as broken, I'd see the light, the life you held in your eyes.
Hesitancy laced his voice. His brother was a sore topic Sirius had tried his best to avoid his thoughts from spinning into. But something in his best friend's soft eyes and concerned voice made him spill everything present in his mind. As always.
James drew in a breath.
“I–” sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “I'm scared for him.”
James laced his fingers through the younger boy's, tightening his grip just a little at his confession, a silent gesture of comfort.
Sirius took in a breath, steadying himself. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do– or rather, what I can do to be honest- I haven't even seen him since the last–” closing his eyes, he tried again, this time finishing in a whisper, “since the last summer.”
The picture of a dark haired, grey-eyed boy, resembling a somewhat identical younger version of him, almost unwillingly seemed to drift into his mind's eye. Except, unlike Sirius, this boy had dark sunken cheeks, with even darker shadows under his eyes, that appeared to mask an entire ocean underneath, or maybe it was a storm that was hidden… Waiting for the thunder to clash…
Maybe in another life, where we weren't as broken...
That was the last time he'd seen Reg. With a little trickle of blood, stark against his pale cheeks (result of one of Mother's dear old dark spells, the result of a failed attempt at defending his brother), as he'd stared at Sirius with those shocked, pleading, tear-streaked stormy grey eyes–
“Don't go–” he'd said– no, requested, “please…”
A tear trickled down his cheek.
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Regulus Black stared up from the Astronomy tower, sky dark against the wintry night, the little streaks of grey reflected in his glassy eyes.
Maybe in another life...
How he wished he could run away, he didn't want this, he didn't choose this– …or maybe he did…
Almost sixteen, but far too young to die.
Maybe in another life...
He knew.
Once sworn loyal, there wasn't an escape. Once gone under, there was no way out.
His only regret, the choice not made...
The brightest star—
Regulus closed his eyes.
Dark black hair, shimmering under the summer sun; eyes so bright, he'd be blinded if he looked up, that infectious smile– Sirius.
The brightest star in the night sky.
“Run away with me.” He'd said one night, looking up at the star-strewn summer sky. The night before everything fell apart…
“I can't–” Regulus had cried back.
How he wished...
Maybe in another life, where we weren't as broken, I'd see the light, the life with you at sunrise.