── Tuesday 14th September 1971

REGULUS WAS PERCHED ON THE MAHOGANY CHAIR in his room, sitting opposite Kreacher. Their family's old house elf still refused to sit with him, preferring to sit on the ground as a means of respect. This disappointed Regulus, but he also didn't want Kreacher in any sort of trouble with his parents because of him, so he'd reluctantly let him do so.

The two were playing a game of Wizard's Chess and Regulus appeared to be winning, having only left Kreacher two black pawns and his queen on the board. Those were taken from the grouchy house elf within seconds, and resulted in his frown deepening. A checkmate followed quickly after. Regulus smiled at him, "Maybe next time, Kreacher," he reassured, standing up to pick up the black and white marble pieces.

"No!" the small being exclaimed suddenly, immediately jumping to his feet in alarm, "No. Kreacher will clean up, Master Regulus. Kreacher will be happy to clean up."

Regulus shook his head at the elf, "It's okay, Kreacher," he said, still smiling as he gathered everything and neatly put it away. He then sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed - his boredom was consuming him. Kreacher stood, watching him, curiosity was expressed through his eyes, if nothing else.

"Kreacher senses something is wrong. Is Master Regulus okay?" the elf finally asked, staring up at Regulus.

The boy glanced at the house elf sympathetically - his brother never treated Kreacher right. Regulus didn't understand it, the elf hadn't ever done anything wrong. Sure, Kreacher could be bitter, and needed to control himself at times, but he was actually rather endearing too. Regulus was extremely fond of him, and it was disheartening to see his friend and his brother constantly spite each other.

"I still miss Sirius," the boy murmured, hoping he hadn't, by accident, offended the house elf somehow. His hands moved to fidget with his curly locks (which had been a complete nightmare to brush that morning, as always) and Regulus remained silent for a moment, eyes set on the ground. He wondered what his beloved brother was up to now. Was he thinking about Regulus as much as Regulus was him, despite the fact that he'd been sorted into Gryffindor? The ten-year-old hoped so.

"Kreacher?" he said, finding the house elf had given no response to his previous statement, not that Regulus blamed him.

"Yes, Master Regulus?" the house elf replied.

"I appreciate you, a lot. Everything would be so lonely without you." Regulus told him, finally looking at the small creature. Kreacher looked back, surprised, before nodding - though before he could react much more, an ear-shatterring "REGULUS!" echoed throughout the house.

Regulus started, getting to his feet. He rushed out of his bedroom and downstairs, before remembering that running was not tolerated. He slowed down as he proceeded down the wooden steps, though only a little.

He found his mother waiting in the living room - her hands were clasped as her elbows rested on the velvet armrests, Walburga sat as if her armchair was a throne. Perhaps it was, as she was definitely always in command. Two letters were set on the ebony table in front of her, next to her cup of black tea. "Do hurry, Regulus," she muttered, turning her head a bit. She narrowed her eyes as the small boy stopped a few feet away from her.

"Is everything okay, mother?" he questioned, his voice having reduced to something timid, lacking confidence. His mother's presence always did that to Regulus. He wasn't like Sirius. He wasn't as brave, and he wasn't a Gryffindor.

Walburga ignored him, eying Kreacher who seemed to have followed him, "You. The portraits are collecting dust. Make yourself useful and deal with it. I want them sparkling, Kreacher." she ordered. The elf nodded. "Off with you, then."

Regulus found his mother's cold gaze directed at him again, as Kreacher scurried away, leaving him behind. He didn't speak. "I could curse you now," she began unimpressed as ever, raising an eyebrow at him and Regulus tried his best not to shudder at the thought, "stand up straight, and keep those curls in order." The boy pushed the strands of hair out of his face meekly, not fancying agitating his mother in any way. "Those are addressed to you," she went on, gesturing towards the two letters. Regulus glanced at them. He wondered if Walburga had read through the letters before calling him, although they didn't appeared tampered with.

"Oh," he said, uselessly, his hands moving behind his back in a fidgety manner.

"Oh?"

"Thank you, mother," Regulus corrected. He picked up the letters.

"I do hope you aren't in contact with that imbecile," Walburga said as he did so, taking her teacup in her hands. By imbecile, she meant Sirius and it almost sounded like a warning - it probably was one.

"Of course not, mother."

"Then go," she responded, dismissing him with two words and a wave, then taking a sip of her tea. Regulus nodded, briskly leaving the room and entering the drawing room instead. He sat down on one of the leather sofas, the same one that Bella had been lounging on during that meeting the other day.

The boy looked down at the two letters in his hands; one gave off the vague scent of the vanilla perfume that Narcissa always sprayed on her envelopes; the other one was sealed with red wax, a rose - one that was a little off-centre - was stamped into the wax. That one was certainly from Evan, who made how much he adored roses quite known.

Regulus opened Narcissa's letter first, in hopes of an update on Sirius (though it was doubtful). He slipped the thin piece of paper out of its envelope, looking down at the small, neat cursive handwriting that belonged to his cousin.

Dear Reg,

It's been two weeks. How are you holding up? I hope you're not too lonely. I know the news about Sirius must have been hard to swallow, but I'm sure you'll remember his house doesn't discard him - even if it is Gryffindor, he's still family. Anyways, I'm here if you ever need anyone to speak to.

Lots of love,
Cissy. ❦

Regulus smiled a little; no update, yet it was encouraging. Sirius was his brother still, and their mother was simply overreacting. Next, the boy opened Evan's letter, managing to rip the envelope no matter how carefully he tried to get the wax off, due to the blonde's excessive use of it. He took out the paper, staring at the smudged writing. Merlin, Evan really didn't care for impressions, did he?

I hope you know I'm NOT going to start this with "Dear", it's so dumb. You're not dear to me, sorry not sorry.

Anyways!! Hi. Guess who it is, nerd.

So I was at Rab's (You should come with us one day, it would be fun. Besides, all you do is sit home and read! You can't possibly be busy. So come.) and Rab said he saw you the other day and I thought hey, let's write to you because why not? It'll be amusing. So look at me being smart and getting you to stop reading. Rab says you're still reading this though, but that doesn't matter because this is fun reading, yeah? That's what I thought.

Did you know that me and Rab tried baking today and I accidentally set the kitchen on fire, and then Rodolphus showed up and he was SO mad. He doesn't really like me, but we don't like the old man either so eh. The kitchen's okay I think - I don't care really, but the Lestranges are so into baking, it's weird. Tastes good though.

Also. We saw Rodolphus' you-know-what (me and Rab kept bugging him about it until he showed us), it's brilliant! It's like burnt inside his arm and everything. We can show you if you do decide to come over (Come. Over. This is a threat.). Anyways, yeah that's it. Write back.

From Ev and (partly) Rab.

Though Evan's constant mocking of his hobbies made Regulus roll his eyes, the boy was otherwise grinning now. Mother wouldn't have much a problem with him meeting up with the boys - so perhaps he would join them for once, lest Evan stay to his threat and kill him in his sleep or something, but mostly because Narcissa was right; Regulus was lonely.

── ✧ ──

── Wednesday 15th September 1971

SIRIUS YAWNED, LYING ON HIS BED with his hands behind his head. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried - he didn't really want to either. The images he dreaded were crystal clear inside his mind every time he shut his eyes. Sirius found that recently his nightmares had become considerably more, well... concerning.

The lustre of the moon shone down onto him and his bed - he'd chosen the one nearest to the window; Sirius always preferred to have an escape at night, to have somewhere to look to when he had nothing else. Despite the cold air, the stars were shimmering that night, and though he wasn't feeling as bright as them right then, he hoped Regulus was.

Sirius sighed, sitting up. His eyes wandered around the dorm; Peter's bed was furthest away from his and the boy's sheets were wrapped tightly around him, James was the same except for the fact that his bed was closest to his. Remus slept sound, his sheets simply covering him, though he was facing away from the moonlight.

The Black boy pursed his lips. Remus had already conveyed how much he despised the moon through how he'd snapped at Peter during that one astronomy lesson when the boy, eager for astronomy as always, had enthused over it - "It's not even that fucking beautiful!" he'd yelled, and Sirius had blinked, then laughed, jokingly telling him that if it made him feel better, he was beautiful too. Remus had not appreciated the gesture however, and Sirius found annoyance in that. The other boy was such a moody git sometimes, but he'd known that when he'd met him.

Remus' dislike for the moon confused Sirius, who felt the complete opposite. Sirius loved the moon, and everything to do with it.

The boy had settled into Gryffindor with ease for the most part; his new housemates had been supportive as ever. He and James had just clicked, the spectacled boy was confident, yet lovable. They got along just perfectly. Remus, though he had his days, was incredibly clever, not to mention surprisingly sweet. The tall boy was quiet, a little awkward and even shy, but Sirius found him intriguing. Then there was Peter, who at first hadn't been very memorable to Sirius. Though after a little, the boy had concluded that the blonde was generous as ever, though also timid - him and Remus got along well. So, if he was going to be honest, Sirius adored being a Gryffindor. It was way better than what Slytherin seemed to be.

That was pretty much how he felt (and how he still did) until dinner that night; it had started off fine. The mouth-watering food had appeared, and the boys dug in whilst James complained about Lily Evans and how she'd just barely bested him in class once again (the two had developed a rivalry of some sort ever since school had began). Sirius nicked a truffle from Peter's plate for the boy had been too invested in James' tales to notice. Remus had noticed, however, but he'd only smiled at Sirius and continued eating.

As soon as Sirius had plopped the treat into his mouth, an all-too-familiar soot-coloured owl winged its way in and dropped an envelope in front of him. Sirius had stared as it ripped itself up into pieces, and only when Walburga's voice had shrieked "SIRIUS BLACK!" and silenced the entire hall did he realise. Sirius choked on his bloody truffle. Of course he'd gotten a howler, this was Walburga Black.

"Your father and I are abhorred at your sorting!" It screeched. Of course they were disappointed. Sirius coughed, swallowing the chocolate before downing a cup of water. "You foolish, moronic little boy! You are to keep yourself in order, understand?" He'd rolled his increasingly stinging eyes, sighing and looking away. Blacks didn't cry over small things such as this. "Do not embarrass us any more, and don't you dare come back for winter break!" Now that was what had made him freeze - Sirius' words to his baby brother had been echoing in the back of his mind since then. It had kept him up throughout the night. He had to come back. He'd promised.

Though, so far, Reggie had just been ignoring his messages; Sirius had sent so many and had yet to get even one reply from his brother. Perhaps their mother had forbidden him. The boy groaned in frustration, lying down on his side.

If Sirius Black ever had a memorable childhood fantasy, escaping his family was it. He had been eight when he'd first introduced the idea to Reggie. Sirius had stormed into his brother's room, slammed the door and fallen to his knees, his fists had been clenched and his eyes had pricked with tears. His brother had looked up from his story book, rather confused. The small boy had tilted his head, "What happened?"

"Mother happened! Obviously." Sirius had responded, sniffling and then wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I hate her."

"That's not nice," he had told him, his cheeks puffing up.

"I know, Reggie! That's the point!" he'd exclaimed, glaring.

"Oh," said the six-year-old, putting his book down and moving to sit in front of his brother, crossing his legs once he'd done so. "Why don't you just listen to her?"

"I do listen!" Sirius had argued.

"No you don't."

"Shut up." His brother had frowned at him, and Sirius huffed. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Siri."

The boy had rubbed his eyes, still quite ruffled, "Do you know what I want to do?" he asked his brother, frowning.

"What?"

"One day, I want to run away, and I want to take you with me."

"Run away?" the young boy repeated, his expression instantly morphing into one of worry and confusion. "That sounds dumb."

"No it doesn't!" Sirius' frown had deepened. "We could do it, Reggie. We just need to try." he'd urged.

Regulus sighed. "Can't we... can't we just play a game for now?" he'd asked, staring down at his lap.

And so they did, they played a game, they chased each other around with sticks as if they were wands, and they laughed like the little kids they were, yet Sirius still always held onto the motivations they'd discussed and kept the memories of it clear because Merlin, one day he would get away. And so would Reggie.

── ✧ ──

hi here's your update it's almost 3am and it's unedited so don't judge help

14.11.21