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Despite the heating charms and the masses of bodies inside the castle, Regulus couldn't shake the icy cold lingering underneath his skin. It could have been caused by the early January weather, but it was more likely the dread Regulus felt prickling from his left forearm.
He hadn't been sleeping well recently. (Well, when had he ever?) And while he was more than willing to skip class from time to time, Minerva McGonagall was a force to be reckoned with. Still, Regulus hated that he was forced to sprint to Transfiguration in order to arrive on time. It felt undignified.
This discomfort and lack of dignity only grew when Regulus rounded a corner and slammed into a mass of something. That something turned out to be someone.
"Watch where you're going," Regulus spat, ignoring the fact that he was, in fact, the one who collided with this person. He was exhausted, okay?
"You should take your own advice, prick," a familiar voice reposed. Regulus stilled. Then, he glared up through the curls in his face to met his brother's eyes. They stayed that way for a beat. Then two. Until Sirius glanced behind Regulus, probably scanning for Barty and Evan.
"Looking for someone?" Regulus taunted with a glint in his eyes. To be quite honest, the first thing Regulus did after regaining his balance was make sure Sirius' friends weren't with him. If they had been, Regulus might not have said anything. But he was feeling particularly reckless today... or maybe envious. "Nervous, perhaps?"
Sirius didn't dignify Regulus' question with a response. He just raised his eyebrows in that stupidly arrogant way. "How was your break, Reggie?" A smirk pulled at the corner of Sirius' mouth, and Regulus pressed his lips together.
He reached for his wand, but Sirius was faster, lunging out and gripping Regulus' arm. Regulus winced and sucked in a sharp breath. Sirius stilled, scanning his face. Then a horrible look of realization flooded his features. Then disgust, then anger.
Sirius tugged Regulus' left arm forward and slid his sleeve up with the other hand. And there it was. The dark, inky drawing of a snake constricting a skull.
Regulus tore his arm back and pulled his sleeve down. It had only been a glimpse, and there was no one else in the corridor, but his heart beat in his throat at the thought of someone seeing the mark.
"You fucking... I can't believe you, Reg." Sirius was deathly quiet. "You know, I thought that just maybe you would un derstand. I thought that maybe you would realize how fucking cruel they are. How they'll never truly care about you unless you're useful to them." There was no doubt in Regulus' mind that this illusive 'they' was referring to Walburga and Orion. Sirius kept going. "But now you're just like them. You always were a suck up."
"Sirius," Regulus started, but he was cut off.
"They're murderers, Reg. And they'll make you one too." Sirius ran a hand through his curls and tugged at the ones near his jaw. "Fuck you, you spineless git."
"Sirius, I didn't have a choice!" Regulus' voice was climbing higher, and he desperately tried to quiet himself. "They would have killed me."
"No, they wouldn't, and you know that too. You're too precious to them." Sirius laughed without humor. "And look at you now, their perfect little heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." Sirius voice which was usually lofty and free, feigning indifference, now was cruel. He punctuated his words so that little daggers drove into Regulus' skin at each syllable.
Sirius turned to leave, but Regulus stepped forward. He saw Sirius flinch away from him and tried to ignore how that made his breath catch in his throat. He pushed on, pulling at Sirius' sleeve. And suddenly, he was back at 12 Grimmauld Place, praying that Sirius would stay. Regulus shook that thought out of his head.
"Sirius, please," he pleaded. "I need help."
But Sirius' face had already clouded over. "It's too late, Reg. You're already one of them. Maybe you should have come to that conclusion when I begged you to leave that house with me."
"I couldn't leave then, Sirius." Regulus' voice caught again, and the next sentence was barely a whisper. "I wasn't ready."
Sirius' eyes softened as Regulus released his older brother's sleeve.
"Are you ready now? Would you come home with me?" Sirius stared at Regulus and let the silence envelop them both. Regulus knew Sirius wasn't talking about 12 Grimmauld Place; he was talking about the Potters. That statement caused the same envy he felt before to tug at his words, and it wouldn't let go.
Here Sirius was, asking Regulus to leave with him, offering him a way out. An olive branch. It all felt a little too familiar. The weight of it all hit Regulus at once, and he dropped his eyes again.
Sirius's expression shuttered again as he shook his head. "That's what I thought." This time, when Regulus met his gaze, he only saw pity. "Hope you had a nice holiday."
Regulus willed himself to reach out, just once more, but he didn’t, couldn’t. He willed his throat to stop constricting itself just enough to call out. But again, nothing.
And with that, Regulus watched his brother walk away again.