Letter: Harry Potter: Regulus-centric fanfiction
Title: Letter
Rating: PG
DH Spoilers: Slight
Summary: Sirius remembers his little brother when he finds a letter addressed to him
A/N: So, this is my first Regulus fanfic I've ever written. I personally like it. I know it's really more of a Sirius fanfic honestly, but since he's thinking about Regulus the whole time, I guess it works.
Warnings: Not beta'd. I looked over it a few times, but ther emight still be a few errors here and there.
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A sigh rang out in the empty room.
Sirius leaned his head back slowly against the wall. Next to him sat an envelope. He had found it on his pillow, covered in years of dust. Seeing it had caused his gut to drop into his knees. He was trying to remember things he had forced himself to forget many years ago.
Regulus.
Sirius. Written on the front of the envelope was his own name. He had carried it with him for a few days, not able to read it. He knew who the letter was from, he could tell from the hand writing. But to read the letter would be admitting something to himself. It would be admitting that he wanted to read it, that he wanted to hear this little brother's words, that he remembered he had a brother.
Absently he began to draw spirals in the dust on the floor. He was supposed to be cleaning the house, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Molly Weasley had demanded he clean the place up or ELSE. And Molly Weasley always did scare him. But he didn't understand why she insisted on him cleaning EVERY room in the house. He never used this room for anything anyway. No, this room hadn’t been used in over fifteen years.
Slytherin colors covered the wall, long tapestries of Green and Silver. Over the bed the Black family crest was painted, and family slogan that Sirius hated so much above it. This room was everything his room wasn’t it. How fitting.
"Regulus..." He whispered, surveying the room slowly. He sighed. Regulus would kill him for touching his things. Not that it mattered, Regulus was dead. He might as well try to clean like he had been ordered. Sirius stood up, walked over to the dresser and pulled open the first drawer. There sat an old dusty Hogwarts robe, the green and silver tie folded neatly across it.
Sirius took a step back. Maybe he wouldn’t clean this room. What was the point anyway? Who would ever use it? He should just lock the door and let the room rot away. Sirius slumped back on the floor, upsetting the dust. "Dammit Regulus." He said aloud. "I can toss bag after bag on mother and father’s things away without a thought, and somehow I cant bear to even pick up your school tie." He said, massaging his temples. "Or read the letter you left me." It just didn’t seem right moving his little brother’s things. Throwing them away like they were garbage. It just didn't seem right.
He glanced to the side. His brother’s face smiled at him from his Quidditch portrait. He sat there in the middle of the front row, holding his broom stick and grinning at the camera. Sirius suddenly felt a great pang of loss. He had almost forgotten that Regulus was a seeker. A bloody good seeker in fact. He almost smiled as he remembered Regulus up on his Cleansweet chasing after a golden snitch. He had joined the team when he was 13 and Sirius remembered being upset by it, because if Gryffindor played Slytherin he wouldn't know who to root for, his brother or his best friend. He had hated it every time Slytherin won. He should have been happy for Regulus, but he wasnt. He should have been happy.
Now he sat on the floor of his little brother’s room, staring at his long dead smiling face, and it hurt. He didn’t know how his brother had really died, why he had died. What had Regulus been thinking when he tried to leave the Death Eaters? Was that what he had been doing at all?
Sirius picked up the photo of his brother and sat it in his lap.
He took a beep breath. He had heard maybe only a month before James and Lily died that his little brother had gone missing, and he hadn’t even cared then. He had just assumed his brother was off being a malicious death eater, killing for fun. It wasn’t until after he was sitting behind bars that word of Regulus having cold feet and being killed by Death Eaters reached him, and he was to distraught to give a damn. He didn’t even know how true that rumor was. This was the first time he had ever given it any thought at all.
He had put off reading this letter for days, trying to guess what might be written in it; dreading having to read his brother’s words. After all, he might start to miss the little bugger. Sirius looked down at the picture of his brother, closed his eyes and opened the letter. He held the paper in his hands, rough old and unused.
Sirius, It began.
I don’t think I can say everything that needs to be said in this letter. But I need to try. This may be the last letter I ever write. I just don’t know where to begin. You and I are very different people Sirius, but you are my brother, and you deserve to know the truth, even if I don’t deserve to tell you.
I don’t know how we got to where we are now, or why we grew apart. But I know that it is most likely my fault. No matter how often we were told that I was the better son, I know that you are the better person, Sirius.
Mistakes have been made, Sirius. Very grave mistakes. I don’t know if I can ever put right what I’ve done wrong. But I know I need to try. I was such a fool Sirius. I allowed myself to be taken in, to be lied to, to be impressed by things that I should have known were no good. I need to try to fix these things Sirius, and I know it will kill me.
When I was sixteen, scared out of my mind and excited for it, I allowed the Dark Mark to be branded on me. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it was for the greater good, for glory, for honour. A life time of service or death was what I chose that night. I know that alone is enough reason for you to hate me. It was a grave mistake. Sirius, I choose Death.
I’m scared brother. I’ll admit to that. I wish you were here with me. I wish I had any right to ask you for help. But I don’t. I’m going to do something rash and stupid, Sirius. Something you would probably do. I guess I’m more like you than anyone would have ever guessed.
I don’t want to die in vain. I have done things that should never have been done, and allowed many more to take place without any attempt of stopping them. I go tonight to try to fix my gravest error. I doubt I will ever return. But please Sirius, know this:
I am sorry. I am sorry for the sins I have committed. I’m sorry for what ever I did to force you and I apart. I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you hate me. I go tonight to make amends
I love you Sirius, I always have.
With all my love,
Your little brother,
Regulus
Sirius stared at the letter blankly. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and break something, he wanted to rip those stupid Slytherin banners off the wall. He wanted to punch Regulus in the face. He wanted to hug him. His stupid, idiot, cowardly, brave little brother was dead. He had always known that, but he had never known why.
"Regulus." He whispered. "I was never the better man, I was just more stubborn."
-End-
