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laffodil-daffodil · 3 years

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The day was beatifull. The birds were singing happily, the peacefull sound of the water running from rivers near by. Everything seemed quiet, calm. Nothing could ruin the moment of peace the forest was having.

The peace, however, did not reach everything.

The sound of a door slamming closed interrupted the calm, the sudden and loud noise resonating trough the forest, cutting the quietness like a knife would do to butter.

Regulus ran out of the cabin door in a hurry, muttering scoldings to himself under his breath. Just this morning (when he was going to make himself some breakfast) he realized that he had no food left (it was obvious, he went hunting over a month ago, the fact that he was too lazy and too depressed were the things that kept him all day on his bed)

He decided to go to the nearest town, he had some money on him from when he helped an old couple out with their strawberry cultives (the couple then gave him a wood box full of strawberrys', which he ate almost inmediatly after he got home).

Regulus never went to towns or villages or cities anymore, faking your own dead didn't allowed you to go in public (being from The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black didn't help eithet). Besides, all that he needed he could find it in the woods.

Like in the books Sirius read to him when he was a kid, like a bedtime story, and he would wait patiently until Sirius tip-toed to his room as quietly as possible so he wouldn't wake up Walburga and then give her a reason to beat them up and-

He stopped himself from remembering more. He always stopped himself from remembering things from his past, from when the time things weren't perfect but they weren't hell either.

He hasn't heard of his parents for years now, and even more less from Sirius (being supposedly dead kept you from keeping track of things outside from your bubble). He just hoped Sirius was finally happy, maybe even be together with that best friend of his (Remus, was it? He couldn't remember quite well his name), he always saw how his brother looked at the other guy with eyes full of adoration, like if Remus had brought him all of the stars in the nightsky.

He hoped his parents were dead, too. They deserved it, after all the shit they made Sirius and him go trough, all of those nights awake hearing his brothers' screams, or the banging of the metal door they locked Sirius in.

And when Sirius left, when his brother was finally physically free from them (because no, Sirius would never be completly free from them, neither of them both would ever be) ,it all just got worse from there. For Regulus, that is. His skin got paler and his eyes got duller, but he felt relief. His brother (the only one he had, the one he held close to his heart, even after being ignored) was finally out of the house they called home.

Regulus noticed (since the day Sirius ran away from "home") that his skin got healthier and his eyes got brighter, unlike him.

Regulus felt relief that his brother was finally able to be freely happy, to be able to love whoever the fuck he wanted to love, to wear whatever he wanted to wear. He truly was.

But what about me, Regulus thought, as he entered the little magical village. I want my happy ending, too. He knew he shouldn't ask for more, he should be more gratefull that he finally, after so much fighting, was finally free from his parents' grasp.

So why wasn't he?

He said an apology under his breath to the old witch that bumped into him, and while she was yelling profanities at him while picking up her groceries, he continued to walk down the crowded street.

Regulus saw, from the corner of his eyes, an old looking bookstore. He walked towards it and pushed the glass door open, might as well buy some more books, no?

The little bell anounnced his entrance to the people inside the shopp, not that anyone cared about it.

Regulus made a bee-line towards the mitology section and picked up two books. One had a deep red cover, with bold golden letters as a tittle. The other had a black cover in its totallity, (also) with bold golden letters.

He made his way towards the front desk to pay for the books, when a wood table that had the newspaper got his attention.

He didn't exactly knew why did it catch his attention, he just knew that he just had to check it out (something in the deepest part of his heart told him to do so).

So he followed his instinct.

"MURDERER SIRIUS BLACK, ARRESTED FOUR YEARS AGO AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-TWO, WAS CAUGHT YESTERDAYS' NIGHT TRYING TO ESCAPE AZKABAN"

He what

Regulus lowered the paper a little and stared at it with incredulity. Sirius was arrested?

Sirius was arrested four years ago?

Regulus did the counts on his head. Four years ago he faked his death to be free, when he tought Sirius wasn't in fucking prison? What in the actual fuck?

He lifted the paper a little with shacky and malhourised hands, those hands that were once soft and didn't know hard work, now, those hands were covered in scars, all of them because of years in the woods, from cutting trees and building his small cabin and fighting wild animals to survive.

He did all of that to survive, all of this- he did it for himself.

He was enjoying freedom while his brother (the brother who neglected you after being choosen in a rival house, the brother who, in a far away past, held your hands on his own and looked at you in the eyes and told you everything was going to be alright) was in prison for murderer, something Regulus believed was false.

Sirius would never kill anyone, Regulus was sure of that.

But that didn't mattered, no. It didn't make any difference to Regulus. His brother ignoring him didn't changed anything, the younger still loved him with all his heart, with all that he had.

His silver eyes looked at the newspaper again, a burning fire making its way into his heart.

"Sirius Black is responsable of the death of a wizard, Petter Pettigrew and thirtheen muggles"

Okay, now Regulus was one-hundred percent sure that his brother had been framed. Regulus knew his brother would never kill muggles, besides, wasn't Petter Pettigrew one of his closest friends?

He continued reading, he needed as much information as he could find. He reached the end of the paragraph, and one or two drops of sweat appeared in his temple.

"-Black is now behind the bars again, the security involving him has increased and is now stronger than ever."

Okay, Regulus wasn't freaking out at all, why would he? The fact that his brother is in fucking Azkaban doesn't inmediatly means he will freak out, nu huh.

Because he is a calm, cool-headed individual, yes he is.

He was not freaking out, and anyone who said otherwise is a liar.

Steps resonated in the small wood cabin owned by the younger heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Regulus swears he can hear his own hearbeats, beating in his ears and, somehow, telling him to do something, anything.

He doesn't quite know what to do, what to expect of this. This was crazy, right?

He knows it is, so why was he having second thoughts?

Do it, Reg. Just go for it, what could go wrong? A small voice says inside his head. It sounds deep and raspy, but also (for some reason) bubbly and playfull. ‘Like Sirius', he thinks.

Is it risky? Yes, definitly so. Would it be possibly worth it? He hopes so.

This is one-hundred percent a crazy, impulsive idea, but he was willing to try and give it a shot if it meant his brother would read him bedtime storys at night again.

He just wants his brother back, was that too much to ask?-

‘But it is! That lazy blood-traitor scum left you behind, for you to rot in that house, all by yourself while he had fun!’ A different voice screams at him and Regulus flinches, because it sounds so much like his mothers' voice it scares him to the bone.

"Please stop talking..." He begs to the empy room. He takes a shacky breath-in to try and get these voices of people that are not even there with him out of his head.

‘Reggie please listen to me! You have to get me out! I know you can do it, you're really smart!’ Sirius says inside his head, and Regulus can almost imagine him with puppy eyes while saying it.

‘Don't listen to that disgrace, Regulus! You are better than that, you will not hear whatever nonsense comes out of that stupid boys' mouth-’ ‘Im not stupid, you are the one in the wrong, Regulus knows-’ ‘Regulus will know best than to hear anything from you, unlike you, he knows what is best for him-’ ‘Like if you would know what is best for him-’

He feels overwhelmed, the voices are yelling at him to do things and Regulus doesn't know who to hear. He feels his heart beating faster, and he can hear his shaky breaths, and he feels the sweat in his forehead, and his hands in his ears-

"Stop!" Regulus yells, and the voices grow quiet. Hot tears stream down of his face as his knees make contact with the floor of wood.

The voices aren't talking anymore, but he still covers his ears tightly. He wants to get rid of the uncomfortable weight his chest has on it. He wants the headache that is starting to form to go away.

Suddlendly, its like he's five all over again. Just, this time, Sirius is not around to hug him.

Sirius wasn’t going to be around ever again.

Regulus tries to calm down. Breath in, breath out. He was going to be alright, he would find a way. He always does. He’s smart, Sirius always said so.

He remains kneeled on the floor for what feels like an hour, but were probably just two minutes (for him, it felt like a whole lifetime).

Regulus sighs and starts to stand up slowly, like if he went a little bit more quicker, then everything around him would dissapear in an instant.

Supporting his body on the wooden walls (he is still too dizzy to walk by himself, still too weak), Regulus makes his way towards his small bed made out of straw he borrowed (stole) and throws himself at it, exhausted of the events of today.

He has a plan, it is all clear in his mind already. And altough he is scared (of being taken to Azkaban, of dying while trying to save Sirius), a feeling he is not familiar with snuggles inside his chest. It has been there before, Regulus knows it has. (It feels like greeting an old friend who was there for you in your lowest point, but then dissapeared out of the blue. Regulus knows its name, but he can't shake its hand like old buddies would).

And then he closes his eyes and dreams about how his life has been so far. How cold it has been, how lonely it all felt (And Regulus wishes it would had passed like a blurr, (like when you zone out in a conversation and you miss a part of it) but it didn't, and Regulus hates that).

The next morning he wakes up with a headache that forces him to close his eyes tightly.

In all honestly, Regulus feels like shit, both physically and mentally.

Feelings suck, and he would stand by that until the day he became nutrients to the Earth.

He sits on the uncomfortable excuse of a bed slowly, trying not to make his headache worse than it already is. He sits there for a minute or two, before deciding to stand up and go see if there is anything he can eat.

He believes he bought food yesterday, but he couldn't really be sure about that. Everything that he did after reading that newspaper was blank, there was no memory of something else happening after that whatsoever.

His legs are better now that he rested properly. 'There is nothing a good nap can't cure!' Regulus remembers Sirius' voice telling him one day, after Walburga went particularly rough with the Cruciatus Curse on them.

Regulus remembers, that same night, Sirius cuddled up to him on his bed, and held him tight against his chest. Regulus never got in the way when Walburga was insulting Sirius, but that time he did. It did not end pretty.

They both ended up getting tortured, Regulus more than Sirius that time.

They were ten and six at that time.

Now he realized that he, in fact, did bought food yesterday. Some bread and cheese, along with a loaf of bread that didn't look in the best condition (he couldn't really afford that much after all, there was so much a few coins could buy).

As he started cutting some of the bread, he tought about his options, about what he could do and about what was out of the question.

Regulus could only think about two viable options that would (probably) (hopefully) decrease the chances of everything going wrong.

One (this one was crazy) he could try and become an animagus. An animal form would surely help him get in and out of the prison.

Now, that option would take him months of preparations, maybe even years.

(He knows most wizards and witches with animagus form had taken several years to even figure out how to become an animagus, but he is Regulus Black for Godric's sake. He isn't most wizards)

(He is better than most, after all)

The black-haired male stands there in the middle of his tiny kitchen, a knife still in his left hand. He thinks he has an idea, someone who would surely help him if he asked.

But in order to ask them, he would have to find them first.

Where exactly are you, Remus Lupin?

. . .

Remus wasn’t having a good morning (he never was having anything good). First, he woke up past 6 am and ended up arriving late at work (again), and his boss yelled at him for 5 minutes (again), and then, oh and then, he ended up getting fired (AGAIN), which, by the way, was the cherry on top to his shitty morning, and it wasn’t even 1 in the afternoon yet.

Now he would have to search for any jobs that would accept him, again (this was the second time in the month that he was fired from a job; in the first one he may or may not had punched a co-worker (in his defense, the bastard was talking shit about a female co-worker, and Remus just got really really angry).

And as he stomped angrily in the direction where his house was, he came to realize that he fucked this up really bad. Now he had no job, not even one kind of support to survive another month, and he sure as hell didn’t have any friends to go back to if things got more rough.

Ah, now he’s just sad.

He glanced at the plants and flowers growing at the sides of the road made of dirt, and he remembers.

Remus remembers the times when he used to be happy, when his only concern was passing his exams and not letting his crush on Sirius (oh Sirius, i miss you terribly) showing up and exposing him. When he would hang out with Lily at the library, and talk about how classes were starting to get more difficult as the days passed, or how they would gossip and talk badly about Severus ("-and have you seen his hair today?"), and they would talk and talk, and then talk some more.

Or when he would help James with his game plans, and they would stay up until the sun appeared again at the next day. Or when he would bake with Peter at the schools' kitchen at really late hours at night.

And he remembers, too, the times when he would look at Sirius and he would just get lost in his silver eyes. And Remus would look at him like Sirius was the most beatifull being in the would (in his eyes, he was).

He misses those times, he yearns for them. He wants them back, with all of his heart.

Life has always been rough for him, its just the way things are.

Because he deserved it.

(or so his father said)

Remus sees his little house at a distance. It looks deteriorated and in ruins, that house. The wild flowers are all around it, and there’s plants climbing on the walls and covering the windows.

He sees a cloaked figure standing on his porch, and Remus feels fear.

But he won’t show it, no, he won’t, ‘because fear is for cowards’ , his father would say, and the voice he would use left no room to question him.

“Can i help you with something?” Remus says, loud and clear.

The person in black tensed, and turned around to face Remus slowly, like if they were scared (’of what?’ Remus wondered, but he kept quiet- like he always does)

Facing each other, silver and brown met.

“Oh”

The wind roared from outside, strong and merciless as ever. It made the trees dance and the leaves from them to roam free on the sky.

The raindrops that fell from the sky were hitting on the glass of the window with force, on the roof, on the dirt. It left nothing untouched.

“How have you been, Remus?” The man in question turned his gaze from the window to the person in-front of him. The years had taken a ton from him, it seemed. Yet, the beauty he owned many years ago had not left him, no. It made him even more handsome, Remus concluded. His silver eyes (oh, his eyes were so smilar to his Sirius’-) were bright, a shine in them Remus has never seen before in the younger man.

Remus gripped the handle of his mug of tea. The sweet honey tea with lavender inside of it warmed his hands, full of calluses and old scars, it soothed him and the pains he felt in them. “You should be dead” He says, looking at the eyes of Regulus, searching (searching?) for an answer to his one-hundred-and-one questions.

“Let me explain, Remus. Please, would you listen to what i have to say?” Regulus says, and he sounds so hurt, so exhausted and done with everything. He says nothing in response, just goes back to looking out of the window, where the wind and rain still are. Where everything follows its course.

“I faked my death...that night i-, i saw an opportunity and i took it, and then i--”

“You left Sirius” Remus says, and the voice that comes out of him sounds so not like him, so aggressive and upset and loud and so much like his voice-

Still, Remus doesn’t back off. He looks up at Regulus and flinches. He looks so upset and angry, like Remus just did something so disgusting and wrong that he can’t take it.

Those silver eyes (One of the distinguished features of the oh so noble and honorary Black Family) burn in his soul like silver things burns in his skin. And it’s terrifyng and powerful in equal portions.

“He left me behind first, Remus” Regulus says, his voice filled with venom and as aggressive as Remus’ voice before. “He left me behind the moment i got into Slytherin” He adds, and Remus can hear his erratics breaths over the muffled sound of rain.

They stay silent, for a while. Not wanting to fight but not wanting to talk either.

“Why are you here, Regulus? We hardly ever talked back at Hogwarts, so i can’t imagine a reason behind your visit” Remus finally says. With the new need to do something (-anything), he stands up from the badly hand-made wood chair and takes his mug of half finished and still warm tea, walking with rapid steps towards the tiny kitchen connected to the living room. He occupies his hands with cutting the remains of the bread he baked yesterday.

“I came to ask you for a favor “ He starts “,you see-- Don’t look at me like that, Remus, hear me out first” Regulus says, and stands up too.

The black haired male takes a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something difficult to speak out loud. “Sirius is innocent, Remus, i am sure of it”

Everything goes silent from there. Remus can’t hear a thing because of the annoying ringing in his ears, and even before muffled sound of the rain is in the background now. He sees Regulus moving his mouth, and Remus is sure he is saying something (most probably something important), but he can’t hear a thing.

And Remus is so angry right now. It bubbles in his chest, from deep beneath with all of the emotions he repressed all of those years, and if he doesn’t calm down now then it’s going to explode. What could Regulus know anyways? He wasn’t even there in the first place! He was too bussy faking being dead, and hiding somewhere away from civilitation, like the stupid coward he is.

(Remus know he is a coward too, he knows it all too well. Because he knows that, (deep down) Sirius is innocent. He just hasn’t come to terms with it because he is so angry and he feels so betrayed and-- how could them leave him behind like this?) (Remus knows that he is stupid, too, because all he wants is someone to blame for the death of Lily and James and Peter-- someone to blame for little Harry slipping away from his fingers like sand)

(And Remus knows that he is a hypocrite, too)

“...--and you know, Remus, that Sirius would never do such a thing, we both know it!” Regulus says, his voice sounds more clear now, less muffled and silent. And it sounds so desperate, begging for understanding and someone to hear him out.

“Those were his best friends, and even i -that a i wasn’t even close to him-, knows that is a fact! He couldn’t had killed them like that!” He yells, and Remus feels sick.

“...get out...” The words come out of his mouth before he can register them, just above a whisper.

“What?”

“I said get out!” He shouts at Regulus, the boiling feeling of anger finally snaps inside of him, and now he just wants someone to yell at, someone to discharge all of his repressed emotions at.

And he does. Before he knows it, Regulus is out of his house and into the pouring rain, because Remus takes his wand out of his back pocket and yells a ´Crucio!’ and fires it to Regulus, who dodges and sprints out of the house.

And Remus is all alone again, inside of that small and old house, with the feeling of anger and guilt and sadness washing over him.

He feels his knees too weak to support him, and falls to the floor with a ‘thud!’. And for the first time since his loved ones left him, for the first time since his life fell apart, he allows himself to cry and yell.

And he feels like a little kid again.

. . .

Okay, Regulus admits, the plan did not work out like he thought it would.

Maybe he did broke the news too strongly, he kind of got angry at first. But it wasn’t really his fault, Remus said something he couldn’t even had known! His relationship with Sirius and how broken it was wasn’t any of his business.

But it’s fine, Regulus can do this on his own. It’ll be harder, but he’ll do it.

No matter the cost.

Two years pass by and Regulus is ready to start with the second and hardest part of his plan. Getting Sirius out of prison.

It too him a whole year and a half to even figure out how to become an animagus, and the other half of the year to learn how to switch to his animal form. But he’s finally ready, and he is so excited to mend things with Sirius and be brothers again.

Now he’s standing on the port, unleashing the rope that’s tied to a boat he’s about to steal. The boat is old, but it looks solid still. Regulus wonders what kind of adventures it has lived, the people it has carried, the tales it had heard from other peoples’ mouths.

Regulus gets in the boat before it couldbfloat away from shore, and sits.

He feels the texture of the wood under him. It's cold and damp, and he can feel the old carves in the wood forming the word he assumes reads 'fishy'.

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head side to side. Probably a little kid wrotte that.

Maybe many years ago, a family had a trip to catch fishies in this very boat. Regulus pictures a father and his youngest son, on a sunny day, in this boat. The father tries to teach his son how to catch a fish, but the child, as most little kids usually do, gets bored with the waiting and as there's no other way of entertaiment, he carves the word on the old boat.

He wishes that instead of being in this situation, in the thick, thick fog, he would be fishing with his older brother. He wishes things turned out differently.

Regulus wishes he could live his youth with his brother, instead of trying to rescue him from a crime he definitely did not commit.

Oh, Regulus wishes were so many. But those were only wishes, thoughts that are in the past now. Realities that already lost their chances to exist a long time ago.

And with these thoughts clouding his mind like the fog cloudes his vision, Regulus grabs the oars and starts paddling.

The splinters in the oar feel like nothing against his tough and scarred hands, instead of hurting him, they keep him on the real world, away from the one where he goes when everything is too much, when he loses himself.

Regulus doesn't know how many hours went by until he could see the impotent building that was Azkaban. And as he was nearing it, the waves kept rocking his small boat, threatening him to flip.

He wonders if everything he's doing right now would be enough. He wonders, as the boat flips harshly to its side and throws him off of it into the freezing water, if Sirius knows he loves him more then life itself.

Regulus doesn't fight back the cold water, not at all. Instead, he lets it settle in his bones, in his belly, in his lungs.

If being held feels like this, then Regulus decided he liked it. No one ever held him before, maybe as a baby, but as he grew older, the only one who held him close was Sirius.

Sirius... who is Sirius, exactly?

He tries to remember, he feels the name belongs to an important person, but his mind is as numb as his arms and legs feel, if not even more.

It doesn't matter, he thinks, because im dying anyways.

Life is cruel, he decides with a heavy feeling in his chest, as his heavy body sinks him deeper and deeper on the ocean.

He'll be sleeping forever next to sand and rocks and corals of multiple colours, and the black of his hair will meld perfectly next to them.

Regulus doesn't fight, but he dies with a ball of hatred and love and yearning in his heart. He'll be dreaming for eternity of wishes and unspoken words, of hugs and arms that will never hold him ever again.

Life is cruel, and Regulus Black knows it all too well.

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IM SORRY I JUST COULDN'T GIVE THE BLACK BROTHERS AND REMUS THEIR HAPPY ENDING SKSNEKEMS what can i say, im a sucker for an angsty ending.

anyways, this was inspired by this blog (https://eronlupett.tumblr.com/post/642858372635475968/i-need-a-writer) by ". and before you mentuon it, yes, i was going to writte a happy ending, i just couldn't, like, cmon on, it was right there, i couldn't resist.

i had lots of fun writting this, but it still took me almost 5 months to finish it lolz. guess i just didn't had the motivation.

let me know what you think of my witting style, or if you have any opinions, just dont b disrespectful!

byebye^^

#Remus Lupin #Sirius orion black #regulus black #lily james #lol this sucks #angst headcanon #harry potter angst #bad ending #im honeslty not sorry #im an asshole hehe #no fluff

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