Work Text:
Regulus looked at the letter in his hands. He knew he shouldn't respond. He knew that he should ball it up and throw it in the fire like he did the others. He knew that that's what his mother would want him to do. But something wouldn't let him. Maybe it was the way Sirius wrote this one, the way he sounded almost defeated like he knew Regulus wasn't going to respond. Being the perfect child had always been difficult, not impossible, just difficult. It had been impossible for Sirius though. Not Regulus. He was lucky for that he supposed, he was lucky Sirius's cracks were more visible than his own. But now that Sirius was gone it was as though the veil had been lifted and his parents had noticed every crack that Regulus had. They noticed his hair was too short for a girl, and how he dressed like a boy. Though that wasn't what they said, they said he looked like a "Bloody queer." They realized he wasn't the perfect daughter they thought he was. Regulus was stuck in this endless cycle of wanting to be Regulus, not the name his parents gave to him, and thinking it was all in his head. He was a girl and should act like it. He tried but it lasted only a week before he smashed his mirror. He had gotten in trouble for that but it was fine, as long as he didn't have to look in a mirror and see a girl he hated, he didn't care. His hands were shaking as he held the letter. He knew whatever he chose would change his life. He could be the perfect daughter or the perfect brother. He hoped he had made the right decision as he watched the owl fly away to his brother.