Lionheart--DvD Commentary, Part 3
***
The potion took far less time to brew than Regulus had expected. Of course, he dared not go to a public potions laboratory and rent a work table and cauldron for ten Sickles and twelve Knuts an hour, but the kitchen in his flat did well in a pinch, even though the reek of the completed potion could have strangled a hippogriff.
In Muggle money, that's the equivalent of three pounds sixpence, or four dollars and forty-nine cents.
On the other hand, it wasn't as if he was ever going to use his kitchen again after tonight, was it?
It would probably be better if he didn't think about that.
That kind of realisation keeps sneaking up on Regulus. To be fair, he hasn't had time to deal emotionally with the fact that he's going to die in a fairly horrible manner either this evening or shortly thereafter.
He examined the orange-brown potion he'd been thinking of as Taygete's Tears. If he hadn't been able to smell the foul odour emanating from it, he would have sworn that it was pumpkin juice.
He brought the vial containing the Tears to his lips, and was very nearly sick on the linoleum.
Blast.
He tried again. This attempt fared no better than the first.
On the third try, he gripped the potion with his left hand and pinched his nostrils shut with his right. Only then did it occur to him that he didn't know how much he was supposed to swallow.
Well, it was too late to ask Phineas that now.
He opened his mouth, swallowed the contents of the vial in one gulp...then, as his gorge rose, gritted his teeth so that he wouldn't spit it out again.
Taygete's Tears smells and tastes so horrible that no one would ever willingly take some just to see what would happen. It's THAT bad.
He was surprised, and not a little disconcerted, to discover that the potion had no effect. No immediate or visible effect, anyway.
Maybe it just took some time.
Despite the fact that he knew that he'd never use the place again, he cleaned up the kitchen. It wouldn't do to leave traces of the potion anywhere; the Death Eaters might well find a countercharm to it and then Sirius and Remus would be right back in the same mess they were in now. If he had to do this, he'd rather that the protection spell work, and continue to work.
Regulus started cleaning up the kitchen because I needed a delay that would give him a chance to think about going to see Sirius and Remus. Then it turned out that there were good reasons to clean up, after all.
He wasn't sure when he started thinking about going to see Sirius and Remus, or why it suddenly seemed like a good idea.
I like the next four sentences. They provide a swift transition, and Reg's thoughts versus his actions are cute. It's easy to miss another piece of info that's implicit, however...Regulus clearly knows where his brother lives, and how to get there quickly. Despite, mind you, the two having been estranged for years. Whether Reg knows it or not, he's wanted a reconciliation for some time.
There is no point to this, he told himself as he donned his cloak and walked out of his flat.
They won't even want to see me, he thought as he cut through wizarding London.
The two of them are being spied on, he reminded himself as he drew near their apartment building and saw the telltale flashes of shimmering light on rooftops, across the street and near the building which indicated that agents using Shield Charms were watching.
They'll never let me in their flat, he thought, knocking anyway and wondering who would open the door.
It was Remus.
Had to be one or the other, and Remus is more rational and objective where Regulus is concerned.
"Regulus?" he said incredulously as he ran long fingers through his grey-streaked hair.
Abruptly, Regulus felt ridiculous. What had he come here for, anyway?
"Hello, Remus," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he lowered his eyes.
A long pause followed those words. Regulus waited for Remus to speak, but the latter said nothing. At last Regulus grew weary of waiting. "May I come in?" he demanded, pointedly.
Remus' brown eyes opened wide, and his jaw fell. His face was almost a parody of astonishment. "Why?"
Which, Regulus reflected, was a logical question from Remus' point of view. After all, estranged Death Eater brothers didn't drop by Sirius' flat every day.
Remus wasn't going to go into vast detail about why Regulus's appearance was unlikely, so I just had Regulus understand Remus's viewpoint and went on from there. Of course, the fact that Regulus can see other people's points of view indicates, again, that he's not ideal Death Eater material.
"I just want to talk to my brother," he said. It sounded weak even to him.
"Regulus..." Remus stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. "You've chosen your side. There really isn't anything to discuss."
"This isn't about politics," Regulus insisted. "It's just--it's been ages since I've talked to him. I wish I had a Time-Turner so that I could go back and start talking to him again, all those years ago. But I don't, and I can't."
"But why the sudden impulse?" Remus asked, gazing at Regulus in perplexity. "You've never got along, either of you."
The words were pulled from Regulus with great reluctance. "We were friends. Once. Before Hogwarts." He sagged against the door frame. "I doubt if you'll believe one of my political persuasion, but I..." He hastily substituted another word for the one he'd almost blurted out. "I...miss...my brother. More than you can possibly imagine."
Three things are going on here. First, Regulus is being more honest with Remus than he's been with anyone in years. Second, he really regrets the silence that came between himself and his brother--and, it's implied, between himself and Remus as well. Third, he's not nearly so good at hiding his feelings as he thinks he is.
Stern, intelligent brown eyes scrutinised Regulus. A minute passed. Two minutes. It felt like a thousand minutes.
"Perhaps you'd better come in," said Remus at last, and stepped away from the doorway to let Regulus in. "Though mind you, this is against my better judgement. And if you hurt him--" For a moment, something feral peered out of Remus' face.
Remus doesn't have many people he loves deeply, so, to my mind, he'd be fiercely protective of the few he does have.
"I won't. I promise," said Regulus, and stepped across the threshold. For a second, he wished that he'd had the foresight to bring breadcrumbs and a few sprinkles of salt in the inside pockets of his cloak, so that he might cast them to the floor of the flat. Bread and salt, once given and not returned, created its own enchantment--guest-right magic. The magic not only kept both host and guest safe as long as the guest was present, it also kept all hostile forces out.
It's just occurred to him that Death Eaters might have followed him--and that they'll attack after he leaves.
Too late now.
"I'll go get him," said Remus, as he reached deftly behind Regulus to close and lock the door.
"I don't think you'll have to," said Regulus, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the worst as a shout resounded from the kitchen.
"Oi, Moony! Need some help dealing with some Jehovah's Witnesses, do you?"
A couple of British friends of mine had each complained, within two days, of dealing with Jehovah's Witnesses. So I had to toss that in.
"Amazing how his first thought is that whoever's at the door has to be got rid of," Regulus commented dryly. Remus took no notice.
Regulus is a bit sarcastic here, but I think it's all right--his sarcasm is directed toward himself as well as his brother. Remus, of course, has experience in the care and feeding of the members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, so he takes no notice.
"We have a guest, Sirius," he called.
A moment later, a shirtless, dark-haired figure--who was wearing Muggle jeans that fit so tightly that they had to have been enchanted with a Shrinking Charm--emerged from the other room, gripping a coffee mug in one hand and a slice of what looked like sausage, broccoli and pineapple pizza in the other.
I don't think I ever mentioned specifically, but I envisioned this taking place on a weekend. Hence, why Sirius and Remus are home during the day, and why Sirius is wearing jeans and eating pizza.
"James! We weren't expecting--" Sirius broke off abruptly as he spotted Regulus. "Bloody hell."
"Yes," Regulus said sardonically. "Hello. Nice to see you too."
Despite the sardonicism, which he's using as a shield, Reg is actually saying what he means.
Sirius glared at Remus. "What the hell did you let a Death Eater in for, Moony?"
And as effortlessly as that, Sirius shifts the blame. It's not his fault that he's losing his temper, it's the fault of Regulus, for joining the Death Eaters...and Remus, for letting Regulus in the flat.
Regulus ignored Sirius. "Did you come here to proselytise, Regulus?" he asked in a low growl that was a savage mockery of his brother's voice, before switching back his normal tone of speech. "Why no, I didn't. I suppose you had a good reason for visiting after all this time? Yes, I thought so. So what was the reason? I'm not sure if I should tell you. I don't know if you'd believe that a Death Eater could have feelings..."
Regulus is being childish here, but he's also trying to force Sirius to get mad enough to acknowledge him directly.
"Too bloody right I wouldn't!"
"Then talking to you is going to be very difficult, since I'm not going to be living up to your favourite negative stereotype." Regulus was momentarily horrified by the bitter words pouring from him, then unaccountably weary. It was always this way. No matter what he planned on saying to Sirius, the two of them inevitably ended by arguing, or worse.
Notice that Sirius tends to flare up in rage, while Regulus becomes very cold and precise with anger.
Sirius was sneering. "Don't play the injured innocent, Reg. It's not a part that becomes you. What did you come for? To suss out the apartment? To charm the door and shatter the wards so that your friends can walk in any time they like? Cast Imperio on Remus and me, perhaps?"
Sirius has a knack, in the books, of saying bitterly cruel things to people while he's enraged or upset. He never actually seems to grasp how hurtful his comments are, which is, of course, part of the problem.
"Merlin's balls!
I picked this up from Thistlerose. Her Sirius says "Merlin's balls!" a lot.
If that's what you think--" Regulus snatched his wand out of his robes' pocket and flung it across the room. It struck the wall and clattered noisily to the floor. Remus glanced at it, then walked over and picked it up.
Practical lad, our Remus.
Neither of the Blacks paid him the slightest attention.
"There," Regulus said, panting, his face near-scarlet with fury. "I'm disarmed. Now you don't have to worry that I'm going to kill you or Remus, or turn you into puppets. You're safe, all right?"
Possibly the angriest show of good faith ever. Nevertheless, Regulus does mean it.
Sirius applauded slowly. "Oh, very dramatic, Reg. Really, you should be on the stage."
Very little is more annoying than being painfully sincere and having someone insist that it's all pretense.
A feeling of lassitude swept over Regulus. "What do you want, Sirius?" he asked in a tired voice. "What would it take to convince you that I'm not here to destroy you? That I just want to talk to my brother?"
This was the point at which I wanted Sirius to shut up and listen. I wanted these two to reconcile. I wanted Sirius to understand with his whole heart that Regulus loved him. I wanted this so badly that it hurt.
And I could not write it that way.
It took a few days before my conscious mind realised what my subconscious one had already: that Regulus couldn't tell Sirius what was wrong without screwing up his own plan to save his brother and Remus. And because they had been estranged for so long, Regulus couldn't tell his brother that he loved him without triggering Sirius's suspicions either.
Welcome to the world of the completely Jossed up. (Those of you who have seen Joss Whedon's TV shows will know exactly what I'm talking about.)
Sirius turned away. "I don't have a brother. He was killed by Death Eaters. By you, the minute that you accepted that...that Mark on your arm."
Did that hurt? It was meant to.
You have an uncomfortable talent for Divination, Sirius, Regulus thought, as he fought for control.
"Now go. " Sirius' back was still facing Regulus. "Whatever you were planning on doing isn't going to work, so just go."
"I just wanted to talk," Regulus repeated patiently. "I'm going off on a mission pretty soon. It's...rather a long journey. Don't know when, or if, I'll be back."
This is the first time that Regulus drops a hint that he might not survive. Sirius isn't paying attention, so he doesn't get the message.
Remus frowned, and spoke for the first time since the conversation between the two brothers had begun. "Is it dangerous?"
Just in case anyone forgot that Remus was still in the room, and listening.
The wolf scents trouble, Regulus thought. Now if only Sirius would hear what I'm not saying, as well.
"'Dangerous' is, perhaps, not quite the right word," he said, striving for a light tone. "However, I definitely expect it to be a life-altering experience."
Remus' eyes narrowed. Regulus gazed back at him, his face a blandly innocent mask.
This is about the closest Reg gets to telling Sirius and Remus flat out what's about to happen, and he tries to do so in a way that says it doesn't matter and he's not upset. Of course, both of these things are lies.
At last Remus looked away, and headed for the kitchen--still carrying Regulus' wand. "Talk to your brother," he said over his shoulder to Sirius, in a tone that managed to be both plea and command.
Hee! Alpha! Remus.
An awkward silence swelled and filled the room. Regulus said and did nothing to shatter it.
"So Voldemort trusts you more now," said Sirius in a dead voice. "Sending you on secret missions and all. You must be thrilled. Who did you have to kill to get on his good side?"
For one mad moment, Regulus considered telling Sirius the truth about why he was truly here. Then he realised that Sirius would only interpret anything he said as a threat, not as a warning. With difficulty, he kept still.
"Cat got your tongue?" inquired Sirius in a falsely solicitous tone. "Or don't you want to talk about the people you've betrayed?"
"That's not fair!" Regulus shouted, his patience at an end. "I've never betrayed anyone, never!"
This is the second time that we've seen Sirius accuse his brother of betrayal when Regulus has been focusing on protecting Sirius.
"You betrayed me the minute you got that damned Mark on your arm," Sirius muttered, crossing his arms and glancing away from his little brother.
Interesting that Sirius doesn't think that their estrangement began until Regulus became a Death Eater, while for Regulus, it began when he was thirteen.
Regulus opened his mouth, intending to say something sensible like That had nothing to do with you, and can't we stop fighting for two minutes and talk? Instead he heard himself saying, "Thank Merlin you have me to blame for every single thing that's gone wrong, or that might go wrong, in your life. Without me a scapegoat--why, I don't know what you'd do. Grow up, perchance?"
Regulus gets to do something here that no one else does in the entire series--he tells Sirius to stop blaming others.
Sirius flushed an ugly brick-red. The veins in his neck bulged. "Regulus..." he snarled.
Exhaustion swept through Regulus. One word. All I wanted was one word. And all I got were accusations and blame. Phineas was wrong. I shouldn't have come here.
"Remus," he called out.
Remus stepped from the kitchen so swiftly that he seemed to have been waiting for a cue. He surveyed Regulus and Sirius, then sagged a bit and sighed. "What is it going to take to make you two talk to each other?"
"I have nothing to say to him," said Sirius bitterly. "In fact, if I never see the little bastard again, it will be too soon."
Now there's a wish straight out of the world of "The Monkey's Paw." And just as in "The Monkey's Paw," Sirius will get what he wishes for...but he won't like it.
Regulus flinched as if he'd been struck. But all he said was, "May I please have my wand back, Remus?"
No demands, no surly comments about halfbloods or werewolves. Just "May I please have my wand back?" Sirius should notice that Regulus is being courteous to someone a Death Eater would normally despise, but, alas, he doesn't.
Remus handed the wand over without a word. Regulus mumbled something that might have been, "Thanks."
He turned to Sirius, whose face was still resolutely turned away. "Goodbye, Sirius."
"Goodbye," said his brother coldly. "And don't come back."
Regulus swallowed what felt like a very large toad in his throat.
A frog in the throat is a cliché. I wanted the audience to realise that Regulus really felt as if he had a large, cold, slimy, sickening lump in his throat that he was choking on.
"I won't," he whispered.
He opened the door of the flat and staggered out, hoping against hope that his brother would call him back, and knowing that Sirius would not.
I'm sure Remus tried to tell Sirius what that conversation was about after Reg left, and I'm certain that he actually did so when Regulus' body was found. (It was one of their less pleasant conversations.)
He walked for what felt like hours, not really going anywhere, just...going.
It's really not easy for Regulus to maintain his resolve in the face of his brother's rejection. I wanted him to have some time to think.
He walked through wizarding and Muggle London alike, not even noticing the Dark Mark searing his arm. Only when it began to throb and ache did he realise that Voldemort had been summoning him for some time.
"Goodbye," he said softly to nothing in particular, and then closed his eyes and Apparated to the last Death Eater meeting he would ever attend.
***
The potion took far less time to brew than Regulus had expected. Of course, he dared not go to a public potions laboratory and rent a work table and cauldron for ten Sickles and twelve Knuts an hour, but the kitchen in his flat did well in a pinch, even though the reek of the completed potion could have strangled a hippogriff.
In Muggle money, that's the equivalent of three pounds sixpence, or four dollars and forty-nine cents.
On the other hand, it wasn't as if he was ever going to use his kitchen again after tonight, was it?
It would probably be better if he didn't think about that.
That kind of realisation keeps sneaking up on Regulus. To be fair, he hasn't had time to deal emotionally with the fact that he's going to die in a fairly horrible manner either this evening or shortly thereafter.
He examined the orange-brown potion he'd been thinking of as Taygete's Tears. If he hadn't been able to smell the foul odour emanating from it, he would have sworn that it was pumpkin juice.
He brought the vial containing the Tears to his lips, and was very nearly sick on the linoleum.
Blast.
He tried again. This attempt fared no better than the first.
On the third try, he gripped the potion with his left hand and pinched his nostrils shut with his right. Only then did it occur to him that he didn't know how much he was supposed to swallow.
Well, it was too late to ask Phineas that now.
He opened his mouth, swallowed the contents of the vial in one gulp...then, as his gorge rose, gritted his teeth so that he wouldn't spit it out again.
Taygete's Tears smells and tastes so horrible that no one would ever willingly take some just to see what would happen. It's THAT bad.
He was surprised, and not a little disconcerted, to discover that the potion had no effect. No immediate or visible effect, anyway.
Maybe it just took some time.
Despite the fact that he knew that he'd never use the place again, he cleaned up the kitchen. It wouldn't do to leave traces of the potion anywhere; the Death Eaters might well find a countercharm to it and then Sirius and Remus would be right back in the same mess they were in now. If he had to do this, he'd rather that the protection spell work, and continue to work.
Regulus started cleaning up the kitchen because I needed a delay that would give him a chance to think about going to see Sirius and Remus. Then it turned out that there were good reasons to clean up, after all.
He wasn't sure when he started thinking about going to see Sirius and Remus, or why it suddenly seemed like a good idea.
I like the next four sentences. They provide a swift transition, and Reg's thoughts versus his actions are cute. It's easy to miss another piece of info that's implicit, however...Regulus clearly knows where his brother lives, and how to get there quickly. Despite, mind you, the two having been estranged for years. Whether Reg knows it or not, he's wanted a reconciliation for some time.
There is no point to this, he told himself as he donned his cloak and walked out of his flat.
They won't even want to see me, he thought as he cut through wizarding London.
The two of them are being spied on, he reminded himself as he drew near their apartment building and saw the telltale flashes of shimmering light on rooftops, across the street and near the building which indicated that agents using Shield Charms were watching.
They'll never let me in their flat, he thought, knocking anyway and wondering who would open the door.
It was Remus.
Had to be one or the other, and Remus is more rational and objective where Regulus is concerned.
"Regulus?" he said incredulously as he ran long fingers through his grey-streaked hair.
Abruptly, Regulus felt ridiculous. What had he come here for, anyway?
"Hello, Remus," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he lowered his eyes.
A long pause followed those words. Regulus waited for Remus to speak, but the latter said nothing. At last Regulus grew weary of waiting. "May I come in?" he demanded, pointedly.
Remus' brown eyes opened wide, and his jaw fell. His face was almost a parody of astonishment. "Why?"
Which, Regulus reflected, was a logical question from Remus' point of view. After all, estranged Death Eater brothers didn't drop by Sirius' flat every day.
Remus wasn't going to go into vast detail about why Regulus's appearance was unlikely, so I just had Regulus understand Remus's viewpoint and went on from there. Of course, the fact that Regulus can see other people's points of view indicates, again, that he's not ideal Death Eater material.
"I just want to talk to my brother," he said. It sounded weak even to him.
"Regulus..." Remus stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. "You've chosen your side. There really isn't anything to discuss."
"This isn't about politics," Regulus insisted. "It's just--it's been ages since I've talked to him. I wish I had a Time-Turner so that I could go back and start talking to him again, all those years ago. But I don't, and I can't."
"But why the sudden impulse?" Remus asked, gazing at Regulus in perplexity. "You've never got along, either of you."
The words were pulled from Regulus with great reluctance. "We were friends. Once. Before Hogwarts." He sagged against the door frame. "I doubt if you'll believe one of my political persuasion, but I..." He hastily substituted another word for the one he'd almost blurted out. "I...miss...my brother. More than you can possibly imagine."
Three things are going on here. First, Regulus is being more honest with Remus than he's been with anyone in years. Second, he really regrets the silence that came between himself and his brother--and, it's implied, between himself and Remus as well. Third, he's not nearly so good at hiding his feelings as he thinks he is.
Stern, intelligent brown eyes scrutinised Regulus. A minute passed. Two minutes. It felt like a thousand minutes.
"Perhaps you'd better come in," said Remus at last, and stepped away from the doorway to let Regulus in. "Though mind you, this is against my better judgement. And if you hurt him--" For a moment, something feral peered out of Remus' face.
Remus doesn't have many people he loves deeply, so, to my mind, he'd be fiercely protective of the few he does have.
"I won't. I promise," said Regulus, and stepped across the threshold. For a second, he wished that he'd had the foresight to bring breadcrumbs and a few sprinkles of salt in the inside pockets of his cloak, so that he might cast them to the floor of the flat. Bread and salt, once given and not returned, created its own enchantment--guest-right magic. The magic not only kept both host and guest safe as long as the guest was present, it also kept all hostile forces out.
It's just occurred to him that Death Eaters might have followed him--and that they'll attack after he leaves.
Too late now.
"I'll go get him," said Remus, as he reached deftly behind Regulus to close and lock the door.
"I don't think you'll have to," said Regulus, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the worst as a shout resounded from the kitchen.
"Oi, Moony! Need some help dealing with some Jehovah's Witnesses, do you?"
A couple of British friends of mine had each complained, within two days, of dealing with Jehovah's Witnesses. So I had to toss that in.
"Amazing how his first thought is that whoever's at the door has to be got rid of," Regulus commented dryly. Remus took no notice.
Regulus is a bit sarcastic here, but I think it's all right--his sarcasm is directed toward himself as well as his brother. Remus, of course, has experience in the care and feeding of the members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, so he takes no notice.
"We have a guest, Sirius," he called.
A moment later, a shirtless, dark-haired figure--who was wearing Muggle jeans that fit so tightly that they had to have been enchanted with a Shrinking Charm--emerged from the other room, gripping a coffee mug in one hand and a slice of what looked like sausage, broccoli and pineapple pizza in the other.
I don't think I ever mentioned specifically, but I envisioned this taking place on a weekend. Hence, why Sirius and Remus are home during the day, and why Sirius is wearing jeans and eating pizza.
"James! We weren't expecting--" Sirius broke off abruptly as he spotted Regulus. "Bloody hell."
"Yes," Regulus said sardonically. "Hello. Nice to see you too."
Despite the sardonicism, which he's using as a shield, Reg is actually saying what he means.
Sirius glared at Remus. "What the hell did you let a Death Eater in for, Moony?"
And as effortlessly as that, Sirius shifts the blame. It's not his fault that he's losing his temper, it's the fault of Regulus, for joining the Death Eaters...and Remus, for letting Regulus in the flat.
Regulus ignored Sirius. "Did you come here to proselytise, Regulus?" he asked in a low growl that was a savage mockery of his brother's voice, before switching back his normal tone of speech. "Why no, I didn't. I suppose you had a good reason for visiting after all this time? Yes, I thought so. So what was the reason? I'm not sure if I should tell you. I don't know if you'd believe that a Death Eater could have feelings..."
Regulus is being childish here, but he's also trying to force Sirius to get mad enough to acknowledge him directly.
"Too bloody right I wouldn't!"
"Then talking to you is going to be very difficult, since I'm not going to be living up to your favourite negative stereotype." Regulus was momentarily horrified by the bitter words pouring from him, then unaccountably weary. It was always this way. No matter what he planned on saying to Sirius, the two of them inevitably ended by arguing, or worse.
Notice that Sirius tends to flare up in rage, while Regulus becomes very cold and precise with anger.
Sirius was sneering. "Don't play the injured innocent, Reg. It's not a part that becomes you. What did you come for? To suss out the apartment? To charm the door and shatter the wards so that your friends can walk in any time they like? Cast Imperio on Remus and me, perhaps?"
Sirius has a knack, in the books, of saying bitterly cruel things to people while he's enraged or upset. He never actually seems to grasp how hurtful his comments are, which is, of course, part of the problem.
"Merlin's balls!
I picked this up from Thistlerose. Her Sirius says "Merlin's balls!" a lot.
If that's what you think--" Regulus snatched his wand out of his robes' pocket and flung it across the room. It struck the wall and clattered noisily to the floor. Remus glanced at it, then walked over and picked it up.
Practical lad, our Remus.
Neither of the Blacks paid him the slightest attention.
"There," Regulus said, panting, his face near-scarlet with fury. "I'm disarmed. Now you don't have to worry that I'm going to kill you or Remus, or turn you into puppets. You're safe, all right?"
Possibly the angriest show of good faith ever. Nevertheless, Regulus does mean it.
Sirius applauded slowly. "Oh, very dramatic, Reg. Really, you should be on the stage."
Very little is more annoying than being painfully sincere and having someone insist that it's all pretense.
A feeling of lassitude swept over Regulus. "What do you want, Sirius?" he asked in a tired voice. "What would it take to convince you that I'm not here to destroy you? That I just want to talk to my brother?"
This was the point at which I wanted Sirius to shut up and listen. I wanted these two to reconcile. I wanted Sirius to understand with his whole heart that Regulus loved him. I wanted this so badly that it hurt.
And I could not write it that way.
It took a few days before my conscious mind realised what my subconscious one had already: that Regulus couldn't tell Sirius what was wrong without screwing up his own plan to save his brother and Remus. And because they had been estranged for so long, Regulus couldn't tell his brother that he loved him without triggering Sirius's suspicions either.
Welcome to the world of the completely Jossed up. (Those of you who have seen Joss Whedon's TV shows will know exactly what I'm talking about.)
Sirius turned away. "I don't have a brother. He was killed by Death Eaters. By you, the minute that you accepted that...that Mark on your arm."
Did that hurt? It was meant to.
You have an uncomfortable talent for Divination, Sirius, Regulus thought, as he fought for control.
"Now go. " Sirius' back was still facing Regulus. "Whatever you were planning on doing isn't going to work, so just go."
"I just wanted to talk," Regulus repeated patiently. "I'm going off on a mission pretty soon. It's...rather a long journey. Don't know when, or if, I'll be back."
This is the first time that Regulus drops a hint that he might not survive. Sirius isn't paying attention, so he doesn't get the message.
Remus frowned, and spoke for the first time since the conversation between the two brothers had begun. "Is it dangerous?"
Just in case anyone forgot that Remus was still in the room, and listening.
The wolf scents trouble, Regulus thought. Now if only Sirius would hear what I'm not saying, as well.
"'Dangerous' is, perhaps, not quite the right word," he said, striving for a light tone. "However, I definitely expect it to be a life-altering experience."
Remus' eyes narrowed. Regulus gazed back at him, his face a blandly innocent mask.
This is about the closest Reg gets to telling Sirius and Remus flat out what's about to happen, and he tries to do so in a way that says it doesn't matter and he's not upset. Of course, both of these things are lies.
At last Remus looked away, and headed for the kitchen--still carrying Regulus' wand. "Talk to your brother," he said over his shoulder to Sirius, in a tone that managed to be both plea and command.
Hee! Alpha! Remus.
An awkward silence swelled and filled the room. Regulus said and did nothing to shatter it.
"So Voldemort trusts you more now," said Sirius in a dead voice. "Sending you on secret missions and all. You must be thrilled. Who did you have to kill to get on his good side?"
For one mad moment, Regulus considered telling Sirius the truth about why he was truly here. Then he realised that Sirius would only interpret anything he said as a threat, not as a warning. With difficulty, he kept still.
"Cat got your tongue?" inquired Sirius in a falsely solicitous tone. "Or don't you want to talk about the people you've betrayed?"
"That's not fair!" Regulus shouted, his patience at an end. "I've never betrayed anyone, never!"
This is the second time that we've seen Sirius accuse his brother of betrayal when Regulus has been focusing on protecting Sirius.
"You betrayed me the minute you got that damned Mark on your arm," Sirius muttered, crossing his arms and glancing away from his little brother.
Interesting that Sirius doesn't think that their estrangement began until Regulus became a Death Eater, while for Regulus, it began when he was thirteen.
Regulus opened his mouth, intending to say something sensible like That had nothing to do with you, and can't we stop fighting for two minutes and talk? Instead he heard himself saying, "Thank Merlin you have me to blame for every single thing that's gone wrong, or that might go wrong, in your life. Without me a scapegoat--why, I don't know what you'd do. Grow up, perchance?"
Regulus gets to do something here that no one else does in the entire series--he tells Sirius to stop blaming others.
Sirius flushed an ugly brick-red. The veins in his neck bulged. "Regulus..." he snarled.
Exhaustion swept through Regulus. One word. All I wanted was one word. And all I got were accusations and blame. Phineas was wrong. I shouldn't have come here.
"Remus," he called out.
Remus stepped from the kitchen so swiftly that he seemed to have been waiting for a cue. He surveyed Regulus and Sirius, then sagged a bit and sighed. "What is it going to take to make you two talk to each other?"
"I have nothing to say to him," said Sirius bitterly. "In fact, if I never see the little bastard again, it will be too soon."
Now there's a wish straight out of the world of "The Monkey's Paw." And just as in "The Monkey's Paw," Sirius will get what he wishes for...but he won't like it.
Regulus flinched as if he'd been struck. But all he said was, "May I please have my wand back, Remus?"
No demands, no surly comments about halfbloods or werewolves. Just "May I please have my wand back?" Sirius should notice that Regulus is being courteous to someone a Death Eater would normally despise, but, alas, he doesn't.
Remus handed the wand over without a word. Regulus mumbled something that might have been, "Thanks."
He turned to Sirius, whose face was still resolutely turned away. "Goodbye, Sirius."
"Goodbye," said his brother coldly. "And don't come back."
Regulus swallowed what felt like a very large toad in his throat.
A frog in the throat is a cliché. I wanted the audience to realise that Regulus really felt as if he had a large, cold, slimy, sickening lump in his throat that he was choking on.
"I won't," he whispered.
He opened the door of the flat and staggered out, hoping against hope that his brother would call him back, and knowing that Sirius would not.
I'm sure Remus tried to tell Sirius what that conversation was about after Reg left, and I'm certain that he actually did so when Regulus' body was found. (It was one of their less pleasant conversations.)
He walked for what felt like hours, not really going anywhere, just...going.
It's really not easy for Regulus to maintain his resolve in the face of his brother's rejection. I wanted him to have some time to think.
He walked through wizarding and Muggle London alike, not even noticing the Dark Mark searing his arm. Only when it began to throb and ache did he realise that Voldemort had been summoning him for some time.
"Goodbye," he said softly to nothing in particular, and then closed his eyes and Apparated to the last Death Eater meeting he would ever attend.
***