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Summary
He paused only a moment in the doorway James had just occupied, glancing back at his trunk, still packed, where it sat at the base of his bed. Just some clothes, shoes, and books. It had been odd to realize he had been able to pack everything he needed so quickly. Sirius only wished that in his whirlwind of righteous determination and rebellious fury he’d remembered to grab at least one photo of Regulus.
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Regulus fought back tears at the sound of his father storming out of the parlor and slamming the master bedroom door shut. He rather felt like doing the same at the moment. But he knew he could not, that Walburga needed to have at least one son who behaved with even a modicum of decorum that night. She nodded, and with a sharp turn, she was gone, leaving Regulus to sit alone with a solemn silence that felt just a little too loud.OR
The Doomed Black Brothers fic no one asked for in which the two boys desperately cling to any small sign of the kindness they grew up without, even as the war-ridden world does its best to rip it away from them.