Archive of Our Own

Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love but I guess

This avoids the stress of falling out of it

Are you tired of me yet?

I'm a little sick right now but I swear

When I'm ready I will fly us out of here

I'll cut my hair

To make you stare

I'll hide my chest

And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

12 Grimmauld Place, London, Christmas Eve, 1975

It was the Christmas holidays of Regulus’ fourth year at Hogwarts, and by this point, Regulus had come to the unfortunate and undeniable conclusion that he was, in fact, a boy. This was unfortunate for multiple reasons; mostly to do with his family, and, well, the entirety of wizarding society. But life had never been particularly fair to Regulus, so he supposed he should have seen something like this coming.

Regulus was very self aware for his age (about some things; denial is a river in Egypt), and he had come to this realisation in his second year. It was hard to ignore it when all the girls in his dorm seemed to love nothing more than dressing up in pretty dresses, smearing their faces in makeup and ogling over boys (well… the boys he understood more, but that was another issue entirely). He had come to accept that yes, he was a boy, and no, this fact would never be voiced outside of his own head.

Anyway, it was Christmas Eve, and Regulus was struggling. He had to wear a dress for the family dinner that his parents hosted, and it made him want to crawl out of his skin. Absolutely everything about it was horrible. Not only was it a dress, but it was made of this truly horrendous material that made him itch and sweat and just want to tear.  

Regulus knew that his mother picked out this particular fabric just for him. Ever since he was little, he had always despised textures like this, and his mother made sure he knew that was unacceptable. Every item of clothing was a fresh hell, and he was sure Walburba did it just to further torture him.

The dress was long and billowy, falling all around his feet and making him trip in his heels whenever he tried to walk. Oh and the heels. They squished his feet, and although they did make him quite a bit taller, it really wasn't worth the sacrifice.

The thing was, Regulus wished more than anything that he could wear one of the fancy suits that Sirius and his father were given. They looked far more comfortable, and they also got to wear proper shoes.

Regulus huffed and slipped out of the dress, pulling on a loose undershirt and leaving the offending garment on his bed for later. He really didn’t want to put it on until he absolutely had to.

It was then that an idea occurred to him. Sirius always left it right until the last minute to get dressed for events, and so it was highly likely that there was just a perfectly good suit laid out on his bed… in an empty room…

Regulus thought for a moment, considering the door and the room just across the hall. It couldn’t hurt, could it? Nobody would ever know, and he’d be in and out as quick and as quiet as a ghost. 

He made up his mind and snuck silently out his room, darting across the dark hallway and into Sirius’ room.

There, laid out perfectly, just as he had imagined, was the suit. Regulus considered it for a moment, glancing over his shoulder briefly, then walked over and picked up the blazer. It was made of a soft, expensive material that felt lovely against his skin, and Regulus let out a long, deep breath. How was it fair that Sirius got to wear this perfect, comfortable suit whilst Regulus had to suffer through the hell that was a dress. 

It didn’t take long for him to get the suit on, and then he was standing in front of Sirius’ mirror, seeing for the first time someone who looked even remotely like him. It took his breath away, and for a moment he just stood there, eyes wide, completely frozen.

Oh, he thought, yes, this is right.

He had the inexplicable urge to jump up and down and flap his hands, to laugh and cry and never, ever take the suit off. Regulus wasn’t one to show his emotions outwardly like most people, he had learnt from a young age that it was best to keep it in, but this was just so much. So much yes, so much good, so much right.  

He watched as a grin spread slowly across the face of the boy in the mirror, as he raised a hand and slid it up and down the tie at his throat in reverence. 

That’s me, he thought, that’s me.

It was just at that moment, as he stared at himself for the first time, grinning and practically vibrating with the urge to jump , that he heard the bedroom door open and his stomach dropped.

He could see the door in the mirror behind him, could see as his brother froze in the entrance. They both stood stock still, staring at each other through the mirror, eyes locked.

Regulus could see the shock and confusion written all over Sirius’ face. Just for that moment, they stood suspended in time, Regulus caught in the act of something unforgivable; at least in their parents eyes. Then, Sirius moved, slowly stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with a click.

“You’re wearing my suit,” was the first thing he said, a clear question in his eyes as he crossed the room.

“I am,” Regulus swallowed.

The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched up slightly, and he raised his eyebrows.

“You are. May I ask why?”

“I didn’t particularly like the dress mother set out for me, it was itchy, this was the next best thing.”

More raised eyebrows, the beginnings of a grin.

“Oh? Could you not have picked another dress? I’m not sure mother would approve of this particular fashion choice.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes and glared at Sirius through the glass. “Oh, did I not make myself clear? I didn’t particularly like any of the dresses mother selected. They were quite uncomfortable.” Understatement of the century.

“And so you were just planning on going to the dinner in my suit instead?”

“No, of course not. I was just about to take it off.”

“So the point was?”

“Shut up.”

Sirius was next to him then, and they just stood side by side, staring at Regulus in the mirror. As they stood there, Regulus felt tension creep them like vines, wrapping around his ankles and holding him in place. His gaze darted down to his bare feet - those ridiculously high heels were discarded somewhere behind him - and he shuffled them awkwardly.

He should deny it; come up with some long and convoluted excuse as to why he was stood in his brother's bedroom, wearing his brother's suit; but the thing was, he realised in that moment, he didn’t really want to. There was a small part of him – and it was growing by the second -- that told him to just tell Sirius, and so he stayed silent.

There was tense silence for a second, and then Sirius’ gaze darted to the side, eyeing him outside of the mirror, and Regulus noticed that he was no longer smiling. He was frowning, a thoughtful look on his face, and then he spoke, and it was unusually soft and cautious, almost a whisper. Sirius hadn’t been that gentle with him in years.

“It looks good on you, you know?” Regulus’ stomach swooped like a swooping evil, and he desperately fought the smile that itched to spread across his face. He only partly succeeded though, his lips twitching up in the corners and his eyes sparkling. 

“You look-” Sirius cut himself off and seemed to hesitate, chewing on his bottom lip and glancing at Regulus before seeming to steel himself and set his shoulders back. That's his brave face, Regulus thought.

“You look quite handsome really.”

And that, oh, that. That made Regulus snap his head up and turn to look at Sirius directly, eyes wide, the swooping evil now doing joyous laps around his stomach.

Their eyes met, and Sirius’ looked wary, as if asking, did I get it right?

Yes. yes, yes, yes. Merlin, yes.

“You think?” Regulus whispered into the space between them. This felt forbidden here, in that house of darkness and pain. It felt like if they spoke any louder the walls would hear them and summon their mother. Regulus could tell that Sirius felt it too, the importance of that moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do,” and it sounded so sincere. He really means it.

They stare at each other in silence, and there’s understanding in Sirius’ eyes. He knows. He knows what this means, and he’s still here. He hasn’t left. He knows, he knows, he knows.

“L-” he cut himself off again and backtracked, seeming to think his words through carefully.

“Are you-”

“Sirius, I think I’m a boy.” This time it was Regulus who cut him off, and Sirius let out a punched breath.

“Okay. That’s- yeah, okay. Do you… what’s your name? I mean, do you have a name?” He went a bit red and shook his head as if to clear it, rubbing the bridge of his nose nervously. “Okay, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. I know you have a name- wait, you do, right? Oh fuck, what I meant to say was, do you have a different name?” Regulus couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him then, a tiny smile slipping through his defences.

“Oh no, you’re laughing at me. That came out so wrong. I’m sorry,” he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Sirius-”

“How was I supposed to ask that? Should I not have? Oh I’m really fucking this up-”

“Sirius!” His mouth snapped shut and he peered out at Regulus through his fingers.

“I- I do have a name. A different one.” Sirius uncovered his face and looked at Regulus sheepishly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Regulus looked down at his feet again and hesitated, but Sirius just stayed silent; waiting.

It took a while for Regulus to build up the courage, but eventually he took a deep breath and spoke, “Regulus. My name is Regulus.”

“Well that’s a bit pretentious.” Regulus whipped round and stared at him in disbelief.

“Sorry! I mean, it is a bit pretentious, but… well, so are you. It suits you, I like it.”

“Thanks Sirius.”

“No, really! Genuinely, it’s a… great name? I honestly have no idea how to compliment someone's name, but I like it. It really does suit you. I also like the fact that you’re still a star. Regulus is in the Leo constellation, right?”

Regulus watched him struggle with amusement.

“Yeah, it’s… well, it’s the heart of the lion.” They both went silent, Sirius’ eyes wide with surprise and Regulus now the one looking bashful.

“Well that’s awfully soppy of you,” Sirius said with a massive grin and a twinkle in his eye, and Regulus scoffed.

“Regulus,” Sirius stated, turning his face up towards the ceiling, “Regulus, Regulus, Regulus. Hmm,you need nicknames. Reggie, Reginald, Reg.” He was grinning now, and Regulus was scowling back at him, but really he was practically vibrating with happiness. Hearing someone else say it, hearing his brother say it, made him want to dance around and flap his hands again. He didn’t, of course. He was far too composed for that, but it didn’t mean that the urge wasn’t there. 

“Oh, OH! I’ve got a little brother! This is amazing, you know we’re brothers now Regulus!” And, well, Sirius had never had nearly as much composure as Regulus, and so he did dance around, albeit quietly and minus the flappy hands. 

“Sirius, stop!” Regulus hissed, eyes wide. “You’re going to get us in trouble! Mother will hear!”

All of a sudden, Sirius came to an abrupt halt and spun around where he was standing on his bed. Uh oh, Regulus thought. He didn’t like the dangerous glint in his brother's eyes. That was the look that meant trouble, the look that meant childish pranks at Hogwarts, but blood and locked doors here at Grimmauld. Regulus hated that look; it never meant good things for either of them.

Sirius jumped down from the bed gracefully and came to stand directly in front of Regulus.

“We should run. Tonight, after the dinner, when everyone’s distracted. They wouldn’t even notice we were gone until it was too late.” Regulus just blinked back at him. Oh no.

“Think about it, Regulus, we could be out of here! We’d never have to come back to this house, and you,” he grinned, and Regulus’ brain screamed, danger, danger, danger. “You could be Regulus. You could be you. We could do whatever we wanted, go wherever we wanted, and-” Sirius’ jaw dropped open and his eyes glazed over. “Oh Regulus . Regulus, Reg, Reggie, we could go to James’ house, and he would-”

“ No ,” Regulus wrenched away from Sirius and took a step back. “We are not running away. Sirius, we can’t. You know we can’t, they’d just find us and bring us straight back. And don't you get it?! I can’t be Regulus, I have to be- I have to be her . They would kill me if I so much as hinted at wanting to be anything else. Please Sirius, don’t do this.”

“But Reggie, you could . If we went to James’ house, his parents, Effie and Monty, oh Regulus, they would never let Walburga touch us again. I promise. They would help you with this, they’d protect us.”

“Oh so we’re just going to run off to James’ house. Perfect James Potter, he can do no wrong, so of course he can help us with this. Have you even stopped to consider for one second that this?” Regulus gestured to himself, still standing in Sirius’ suit, “not everybody would be so open minded as to accept this, especially not purebloods, and no matter how amazing the Potters may be, they are still purebloods .” Regulus felt a single tear start to trace its way down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. 

“No, no Reg, you’re wrong, I know that they would accept this-”

“How the fuck can you know that Sirius?! You can’t! I don’t care how wonderful they are, the moment I tell them I’m a boy, they’ll send us right back here, and mother will kill us!”

“No! They wouldn’t! I know because- because- Fuck, I can’t tell you why, but I know that they would be okay with it. Please Regulus, just trust me on this.”

Regulus just stared blankly back, before shaking his head and letting out a single, ragged sob.

“Really Sirius? Really?! Fuck you.” Sirius stepped forward and reached out as if to grab Regulus, but he stepped resolutely back. “No, fuck you. Fuck you, Sirius.” And then, still in the suit, he turned and stormed right out of the room, throwing open the door and slamming directly into a solid force going the other way.

Oh. Oh no. Oh fuck.

He stumbled back and caught himself on the doorframe, then slowly raised his eyes to look at what he had crashed into.

“Lyra, what do you think you’re doing? What are you wearing?!”

Mother.

That was when everything promptly went to shit.

✯

“What is this?” Walburga hissed, eyes running up and down Regulus’ body like knives. He could feel her gaze cutting into him and pulling him apart, searching, demanding answers. Her stare eventually settled on his face, and he briefly wondered if her eyes had always looked like that; cold, grey steel that was simultaneously exactly the same as Sirius’, and so, so different. Sirius’ were more like silver, always shining with emotion; be it love, anger, or mischief. Walburga’s never held anything but resentment or ice cold emptiness. Nothing scared Regulus more than the thought of his brother's eyes matching his mothers.

Regulus stood, completely frozen, before his mothers rage, and had no idea what to say. There was no way out of this; no excuse that would explain it away. He didn’t know what to say, and it terrified him. How could he have been so stupid as to leave the relative safety of Sirius’ room still wearing the suit? Although, it did look as if that was where Walburga was heading anyway. A few more steps and she would have been through the door, faced with the child she had always thought of as the better one: the one who did as he was told; the one who stayed quiet and never disobeyed her rules; the one that would never even think to step out of line. She would have stepped through that door and seen him anyway.

We were being too loud, he thought. She heard us. 

Yelling was not allowed in Grimmuald Place; except, of course, when she was the one doing the yelling.

Regulus stood, his mind running at a million miles an hour, trying desperately to come up with a story – a plan that could get him out of this – when he felt his brother's presence step up next to him.

No Sirius, please don’t say anything stupid, you’ll just make it worse, he thought, but of course, Sirius couldn’t read his mind, and so he did just that. To be fair, even if he could read Regulus’ mind, he probably wouldn’t have listened.

“It was my idea. I got her to put it on, I thought it would be funny,” Sirius said, arms crossed and a cocky grin spread across his face, eyes gleaming with defiance. Anyone who didn’t know him would think he looked so proud of himself in that moment, as if he had no idea of the danger he was putting himself in. But Regulus did know him, and he could see past the mask, could see the undertone of fear in his defiance.

Why did Sirius always do this? He always took the hits for his little brother, and Regulus honestly had no idea why. Why would Sirius ignore him all through their time at Hogwarts, give him the cold shoulder and minimal acknowledgement here at Grimmauld, and yet every time Regulus got in trouble with mother, still be there to take the fall? It made no sense to Regulus, didn’t Sirius hate him? Sure, they had a moment there, but that didn’t mean Sirius forgave him, it was more likely just his ridiculous need to be good; to go against everything their parents were; everything that Regulus seemingly was. And he did this before as well. Why did he always protect him, even though Regulus never once repaid the favour? Why, why, why?

There was a lump in Regulus’ throat, and he wanted to stop this. He wanted to step in and say no. No it wasn’t Sirius. Sirius never did anything wrong. Punish me, not him, please. Please not him. But he couldn’t. Just like all those other times, he just stood there, and did nothing. Regulus was not brave like his brother, he never had been, but that didn’t mean he didn't desperately want to do something. He always wanted to do something. He just never did.

He tried to hide his wince when Walburga lashed out, slapping Sirius across the cheek with the back of her hand. His stomach clenched, and he just stood there, staring down at his still bare feet, willing himself to do something, and knowing he never would.

“Lyra, go change immediately. I expect you both downstairs in ten minutes. And Sirius,” she warned coldly, “we are not done here.”

She turned and strode down the hall, disappearing down the stairs. Regulus glanced up, a small wrinkle of confusion between his brows. Was that it?

Of course not. That was never it.  

There was something coming, and it scared Regulus more than he expected to not know what it was. Usually Walburgas punishments were predictable: no food for two weeks, locked in their room the entire time; mouth cursed shut until they learned their lesson (usually most of the holidays); imperioed to do whatever Walburga ordered of them for a few days (read books, play piano till their fingers cramped, sit in their rooms and stare blankly at the wall for hours on end); but never before had she left a punishment hanging over them like this. 

The two of them stood there for a moment in silence, before Regulus swiftly turned on his heel and walked the opposite direction from Walburga; away from Sirius and towards his own room.

“Wait,” Sirius hissed after him in a tone that imitated a shout, but much quieter. Regulus ignored him, shutting his door behind him and walking back over to his own mirror, where he took one last look at his reflection, trying to absorb as much of the euphoria it gave him as possible before he turned away and stripped the suit from his body.

There I go, he thought. There goes the first – and probably only – time I’ll ever see my true self.

✯

The dinner was stifling – well, all family dinners were, but this one was especially so – and Regulus spent the entire time dreading what was to come after. It was filled with clipped conversation about politics and the blood purity bullshit his family was always spouting. He’d learned a long time ago that there was nothing particularly special about being pureblooded. If anything, it made them worse witches and wizards. He didn’t particularly fancy marrying his cousin, thank you very much.

He and Sirius spent the entire dinner in silence, picking at their food and being largely ignored by the rest of their family. This in itself was odd, as someone usually dragged them into the conversation one way or another, and it was making Regulus more and more nervous. He could see Sirius across the table. He kept shooting their mother wary glances, and Regulus knew just from that that he was just as apprehensive, if not more.

It was near the end of the dinner that it happened, and really, Regulus should have expected something like this. He was stupid not to have guessed.

“So, Lyra, I was thinking that you might like to enlighten us on what really happened earlier. How was it exactly that you came to be wearing Sirius’ clothes?” Walburgas gaze was now locked directly on Regulus’ and he could see the dangerous glint of satisfaction in her eyes just as he felt an impulsive tugging sensation at the back of his throat.

Oh no. Not this, anything but this, please. 

“I didn’t particularly want to wear any of the dresses you set out, and so I thought to try Sirius’ suit instead. It was much more comfortable,” he said, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. Of course she drugged me. Fucking veritaserum.  

There was a rising sense of panic filling Regulus as he fought with his tongue. She’s going to find out, he thought absentmindedly, all she has to do is ask the right question, and she’ll know everything. 

“Oh, and why might that be?” This time it was Bellatrix who spoke, that Black family madness that always seemed to simmer under the surface now written clearly all over her face as she tilted her head to the side slightly like a puppy. And that was it. That was all it took for all of Regulus’ carefully constructed cover to come crashing down around him. That was the question.

“Because the fabric made me want to crawl out of my skin, and I’m not a girl, so I wouldn’t want to wear the dresses even if they weren’t made from the worst textures mother could possibly find.”

Silence.

No such words had ever been spoken in the Noble and Moste Ancient House of Black, and now that they had, they just kind of hung there between them, shock playing on every face at the table. 

Regulus met Sirius’ eyes, and they showed just as much shock, but for very different reasons. He already knew Regulus wasn’t a girl, and so the shock on his face was more of the panicked sort than the angry or confused sort that the others displayed. He could practically see the gears turning in his brother's head, trying to figure out a way to get Regulus out of this, but there was no way. The truth was out now, and there was no putting it back in.

The silence didn’t last long. The moment Walburga had recovered from her moment of shock, she was standing from her seat at the table and pointing her wand at Regulus.

“Crucio!” She spat, and a bolt of green light shot towards him. When the curse hit him, he immediately crashed from his own seat and onto the floor, curling in on himself and screaming. It felt like there was fire in his veins, filling them up and trying to burst out and burn his body to ashes. He couldn’t feel or hear anything past the searing pain, his mind filled only with the echoes of his own screams and the need for it to stop. Somewhere in his subconscious he thought, stars were always meant to burn.  

The pain seemed to last forever, his voice cracking and his throat dry from screaming. When it finally stopped, he rolled from where he was curled in an undignified ball and heaved the entire contents of his stomach up on the floor beside him. He could feel tears streaming down his face, and in that moment, he couldn’t even make himself care. All he could feel were the aftershocks from the curse, a deep burning ache in his bones.

It took a moment, but Regulus eventually came back to himself enough to acknowledge what was going on around him, and what he found made him want to heave all over again.

Sirius stood over him, arms out protectively, shielding him from Walburga, and he was yelling.

“Ha! You think I’m any good either? For your information, I have no interest in girls, and I’m quite in love with a guy actually, and proudly . I’ll be far happier with any man than I could ever be with one of you fucked up lot. But you don’t give a single fuck about any of our happines do you?! You just want the perfect heir, who will probably marry his cousin and continue this fucked up bloodline. Well, fuck you, because I won’t- ” That was about when the screaming started, and this time it wasn’t Regulus, and nor was it Walburga administering. Instead, Bellatrix stood over Sirius, her wand pointed directly at his brother, who was now writhing on the floor just as Regulus had been. 

She was cackling maniacally, and Regulus tried to drag himself forward to stop this, but then he was frozen, and there was his mothers voice whispering in his head, telling him what to do.

Get up, she said, and Regulus did as he was told. He fought it, panic reeling through him, Sirius’ screams behind him grating at his mind, but he was completely under his mothers control. He had never been able to fight the imperius, and today was no different.

Go to the piano: play, she said, and Regulus’ body moved against his will. He couldn’t even get his head to turn and see what was happening behind him. He could feel his face, completely blank, expressionless, uncaring. His heart was pounding in his chest, crashing against his ribs as if demanding to be let out. He lowered himself onto the stool in front of the piano and lifted the fallboard, before splaying his fingers out and beginning to play.

That was when the tingling started. It was a familiar, warming feeling that started at the centre of his chest and spread throughout his body, right down to the tips of his toes and the ends of his fingers. It made him feel lighter, as if he was hovering a few inches from the ground, suspended in time and space. He knew this feeling, and where he would usually push it down, try to control it, this time he welcomed it and let it fill his body with that buzzing, humming magic that he knew so well.

As Regulus’ fingers danced elegantly across the keys, he could feel the energy inside of him building. Wherever his body touched anything – his shoes against the smooth marble floor, his thighs on the small vinyl stool, the tips of his fingers on the smooth ivory keys – there was a sparky feeling like static. At one point, he could have sworn he saw actual sparks flicker against the keys.

His previous pulsing panic faded into the background along with Sirius’ screams, everything apart from the music of the piano just a faint humming. His mind hyper focused on the one noise, a feeling of intense calm settling over him, and he could feel every breath like it was in slow motion.

In… out. In… out. In…out.

Still. Silence. Calm.

In… out.

Then, all at once, it shattered.

There was a rush of power that flowed like a tsunami through his entire body and out from his very core. He felt the pull of it against his skin, he felt it leave him, he felt it as the imperius snapped and he was released from his mothers clutches.

His ears rang and for a moment he just stared down at his hands, now resting, completely still, on the keys. He was breathing heavily and his head was spinning. White spots were dancing in front of his eyes like fairies and he squeezed them shut, shaking his head and willing himself not to pass out .

Regulus blinked and slowly turned to face the room.

The room was, in short, completely and utterly fucked . Surrounding the piano was a ring of destruction, everything blasted out from where Regulus was sitting. All the chairs had been overturned and anything made from glass or ceramics was shattered into a million tiny pieces. The walls were wrecked, splattered with the food that had been blasted off the table and across the room. Regulus’ eyes caught on a particularly noticeable stain where a bottle of red wine had clearly smashed; it looked a little too much like blood for his liking.

All the paintings in the room had been vacated, their occupants having fled the scene after the explosion. But the worst part wasn’t any of these things. The worst part was the unconscious bodies of his family, thrown across the room from where they had been standing. His mother, who had been standing closest, seemed to have been the most affected. She was lying in a slowly gathering pool of blood, her arm twisted at an unnatural angle under her body and her usually immaculately ironed dress crumpled and torn.

Regulus just stared at her for a moment, fear pooling in his stomach, silently begging her not to be dead, for none of them to be dead . If he had killed any of them… he didn’t even want to think about the consequences.

But there was really only one person he cared about in this room. Sirius .

Oh. Oh fuck. That’s not good.

Sirius was lying, sprawled against the wall, his head drooping to the side like a ragdoll. He was in the worst condition of any of them, and it made Regulus want to throw up again.

Regulus tumbled down from where he was still sitting on the stool, hitting the ground with a thump and his vision briefly spinning and going black before he squeezed his eyes shut again and breathed through it. He could not pass out right now. He just couldn’t, because if he did, both him and Sirius would not survive the evening. 

It took a couple of minutes of deep breathing, in… out, in… out, in… out, concentrating, holding onto reality with an iron grip, before his head cleared enough for him to slowly claw his way across the glass-covered floor and to his brother.

“Sirius?” He croaked, reaching out and grabbing Sirius’ arm, where he pressed two fingers to the inside of his wrist and waited with bated breath to feel a pulse.

There. There’s a pulse, he’s alive. Regulus choked on a sob, crumpling forward and resting his forehead against his big brother's chest, listening to the slow but definitely there beat of his heart.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Sirius,” he continued to sob, hands clutched in the front of the suit. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

We have to get out. The thought came across him all of a sudden, and he knew he had to do something. He had to get them out of there, and he had to do it before the rest of their family woke up, otherwise there would be hell to pay. 

Regulus pulled his head up from where it was resting on Sirius’ chest and looked around the room again.

The fireplace. It was right there, just across the room, and all Regulus would have to do would be to get Sirius over to it, and then he could take them wherever they wanted to go. But where? Where would they go?

Well, there was only one option, really, wasn’t there? Both Sirius and Regulus were in a bad way, and so they couldn’t just wing it on the streets. And anyway, even if they did try to do that, their parents would track them down the moment they woke up.

No, there was only one option.

The Potters. 

Regulus hated to give in to what he had been arguing vehemently against only hours before, but there really was no other option

Okay. Okay, I just have to get us across the room. It’s not that difficult. It’s only a couple of metres. I can do that. It’ll be fine.

It wasn’t fine. It took a ridiculous amount of tugging and heaving to get Sirius even just a few inches across the floor, and Regulus was completely and utterly drained already. He couldn’t use magic – he barely had enough energy to move , let alone levitate Sirius over to the fireplace and then drag himself along as well. Fuck, he really was just going to have to do this the hard way.

It took far too long, and the entire time Regulus was terrified that someone was going to wake up and stop them, but nobody did. Finally, a bit of luck in his life.  

By the time they reached the fireplace, Regulus was covered in sweat from the exertion and his dress was well and truly wrecked . 

Thank fuck for that, he thought whistfully. The bloody thing deserved it. He couldn’t wait to set it on fire, and preferably bury the ashes at the bottom of the ocean. 

Finally, he shoved Sirius into the fireplace, and then crawled in after him. The two of them barely fit, but it didn’t matter. Regulus wasn’t going to let Sirius out of his sight for a single second.

He took one last look around the decimated room before taking a deep breath and grabbing a handful of floo powder, throwing it down and choking out, “Potter Manor.”

The brothers were engulfed in tingling green flames, and then they were sucked down into the floo and away to the Potters.

Regulus had always hated the floo, it was constricting and made him feel trapped. He hated small dark spaces in general, but this was particularly horrible because of the added sensation of being squeezed. It also made him extremely nauseous, always swaying on his feet when he came out the other side.

This time, when they appeared in the fireplace of Potter Manor, Regulus was unable to overcome the intense nausea and promptly collapsed against the wall, heaving up anything that was left in his stomach from his earlier sickness. He was soon just dry heaving, his throat dry as parchment. He could vaguely hear panicked shouting in the background, and hurried footsteps coming closer, but his head was spinning again and the white spots were back. This time, when he started to black out, he didn’t fight it, allowing the darkness to engulf him and his body to fall. He was out before he even hit the ground.