, the painful art of letting go. [sirius]

[avyx]

He wasn't sure how many days it had been. He'd lost track somewhere between now and then. But it didn't make it feel any less real. Sirius was gone. It was almost like that first year Sirius had gone off to school before him - a confounded, sudden emptiness that really only hit a week or so after the fact. Only this time, he wasn't coming back. His mother and father had made that very very clear. They hadn't mentioned his name since his face had been burned from the Tapestry, treating it like some grotesque, deadly plague. On the face of it, they acted as if nothing had changed, but Regulus could tell that his father's temper had grown shorter - and that his mother's affections for Regulus had grown... to a concerning degree. He was her 'perfect heir', her perfect little Reggie, unlike that blood traitor. Regulus was more than just a son now, he was the Heir of the Noble House of Black - a title he had only known the weight of, but never felt until now. But compared to that big gaping hole that had dug itself in his chest, it didn't feel important. Frankly he wasn't sure how to feel anymore, mostly because he didn't want to feel anything. Sirius had distanced himself for years and the outcome could have only been expected. In that regards it really was no different then when he left for Hogwarts for the first time. Expected; anticipated even.

Any relationship that they had had as children had somehow been lost in the years that followed - between ridiculing each other, outwardly ignoring one another and just outright feuding; the affection had been lost and recycled into bitterness and opposition. Everything had already fallen apart before it actually really did. And the arrangement of Sirius' room, had all but showed just how true that was.

It was untouched, like anything related to Sirius. Regulus was fairly certain the door hadn't even been opened since his brother ran away. Once, he saw his mother lingering outside the door and a couple times he'd caught his father eying it with disdain. Today though, it was his turn to stand outside the door. He wasn't entirely sure how he ended up there either. He just was - with the door shoved wide open, muggle paraphernalia everywhere, Gryffindor posters everywhere. Sirius' imprint... everywhere. A knot tightened in his stomach, his hands shaking. His parents were out visiting his aunt and uncle and Kreacher was likely in the kitchen cleaning or at the very least - keeping to himself. He fought to make a mental note to talk to him later, but was left at the mercy of his emotions - blurred and in-comprehensive as they were. What seemed like hours passed in only a few short minutes, trapped between an invisible barrier and his apparent inability to move backward; to back off entirely and pretend that Sirius meant nothing to him.

Oh, but he so very much did. Misguided and soft as his older brother was, he was still his brother in blood and memory. And while blood could be forgotten and disinherited - as it had been, memories could not. Clenching his fists tight enough for his nails to dig into his palms he broke past the invisible barrier and stepped into his brothers room for the first time since Sirius had taken off. Once he was inside though, he hadn't a clue what to do. Part of him wanted to look beyond the given impression, but another part just wanted to just stand there looking absently at what remained of his brother. Eyes casting around slowly, a sombre expression on his lips he could sight of a photograph in a frame. Walking over he picked it up and simply stared at his - his brother - a lot younger than now, with his oh-so valuable friends. Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew. Smiles disrupted by Sirius nudging Potter. Sirius was probably with him now. He scowled, jealousy uprooting as he sat down on the edge of Sirius' bed, frame still in hand, shaking in his grasp.

And all he could think, was why them?

[madie]

Sirius had always known he’d have to go back at some point. He had been putting off the inevitable for too long now. He had been surviving on the bare necessities, sharing James’ clothes, brushing his teeth with his friend's old toothbrush. Perhaps it was the Potters way of forcing him back home, either that or they were simply poor hosts. The elderly couple only wanted the best for the boy though, so really, the answer was blatantly simple. Sirius had yet to truly come to terms with his running away, and the Potter’s were riding on the slim chance that his visiting Grimmauld Place would fix that. They had been bugging him about it for almost a week now... and Sirius’ patience was beginning to wear thin. It was only a matter of time before he cracked, they knew, so it was really no surprise when the boy agreed to return home. 'Just to pick up my broom’ he’d justified, riding on the slim hope that James’ parents might believe him.

The reality of the situation was bleak, after all, Sirius’ knew it was unlikely he would ever return ‘home’ again. After this, he would likely never step foot in Grimmauld Place again. All his memory would fade with time, memories of barricading himself in his room, avoiding glares at the dinner table, being slapped, hit, hexed... of playing tag with Regulus, staying up late and talking. He would soon forget about the house, about his room and their house elf. He would forget everything with time... even the things he would rather not.

With Sirius’ treatment at home being uncovered, Charlus was not about to let the boy return to Grimmauld place alone. As it were, Sirius was not old enough to appairate anyhow, and he didn’t seem all that keen on walking again. The first time had been more than enough for one lifetime. So, Mr Potter had offered to accompany him, if only for his own piece of mind. Sirius had been reluctant at first... but James had eventually been able to talk him into it. Some moral support couldn’t hurt after all.

Once they had arrived in London , to a very empty house, Charlus had opted to wait outside. Sirius seemed reluctant to show him around his childhood home... and both men knew it was something he would rather not have been doing. It embarrassed him; after all, Grimmauld Place was unlike anything Charlus was used to. It was a place that would have unnerved even the bravest of people. There was simply a feel to the house. Derelict and cold... Sirius’ childhood home was nothing like the Potters house, or even Hogwarts for that matter.

Making his way up the stairs, Sirius could hardly prevent the blush from shrouding his face. Upon passing the wall of dismembered house elves, he hung his head, a need to instill his pride having bubbled up inside him. They would not see him embarrassed to walk in his own home, dead though they might have been.

Feet heavy against the floorboards, Sirius made his way towards his room, the slight opening in his door leaving him a little on edge. Who the hell had been in his room? Or more importantly... why? Resting his hand against the doorknob, the boy snuck in silently, as if expecting to come face to face with one of his parents. Nobody was home though, of this much he could be certain. Kreature only talked to himself when his ‘mistress’ was away.

Having expected to be alone, the eldest Black found himself jumping half a mile at the appearance of his brother. The boy, sat quietly on the edge of his bed, had all but gone unnoticed in wake of his thoughts. He had been thinking about the Marauders again, like always- about how he had to man up and be a proper gryffindor. But that thought had faded in an instant, Regulus’ presence leaving it in shambles. His every thought suddenly revolved around the scared little boy on his bed... around his brother. For a moment, he almost forgot all the hatred shared between them, the tension. For a moment he wished he could just run across the room and hug him, talk about how much he missed him. For a moment, they were children again... and nothing else seemed to matter in the world. But reality was a harsh truth, and an inescapable one at that- for they were not children anymore. So Sirius simply stood, dumbstruck, at a complete loss for what to say. Until he chocked under pressure.

”I came to get my things”

[avyx]

His hands remained fixed to the frame, eyes watching the loop of the charmed photo of Sirius with his friends. Over and over, he nudges James playfully, smiles disrupted but happy and sickeningly gleeful as the round up to pose again - the image repeating itself. He tried to recall if his brother had ever smiled like that with him; if Sirius had ever looked so happy. Over the years it had become harder and harder to recall if he ever did. Perhaps as children he may have shown that face to him. But he couldn't remembered. The mere thought tightened his chest, his face struggling between glaring and fighting for something impassive and stationary, while ache crawled into his chest. Those late night chats, falling asleep curled up to his brother, holding his hand and following blindly whenever they were out. He couldn't remember them the way he used to. The fondness was gone and everything that his brother had become had replaced all of it. Sometimes, the memories didn't even feel real. And right now... he could barely even conjure them at all.

Biting his lip sharply he fought for composure, unable to hear the footsteps, and unable to concentrate on much else beyond settling his shaky grasp; resisting the urge to fall under the weight of emotional turmoil - an abyss of everything he had always surpressed. Looking in front of him instead of the frame, he fought away the painful thoughts, jaw clenching and unclenching in attempt to clear his mind. It all shattered, however - the moment a voice - an untimely, most recognizable voice broke his concentration. His head snapped toward the doorway, eyes widened in inexplicable panic - the frame immediately falling from his grasp and landing with a thud on the floor - glass pane cracking. "Sirius." He chocked. And for a moment, he just sat, and stared, expression fading into one of reflexive contempt - ultimately locking Sirius out of his thoughts. Regulus had never been expressive enough to read entirely to begin with - apart from his Black stereotype, but his defenses had slipped up as a result of the picture within the cracked glass on the floor. All it had taken though - was the sudden reappearance of his brother to lock it all back into place again. A bitter and strong sense of betrayal masking that painful ache.

"You... You left," He managed tense despite how flat his voice had come out. You left. You coward. You cruel, selfish coward. But as much as he wanted to say those words, they didn't come out. Instead, he rose to his feet, conceit forming in his stance as he regarded his older brother with a most iced look, "You have no right to be here," He stated, proceeding to step on the frame so it cracked further, "You abandoned your name and are therefore no longer permitted the right to set foot into this house." It was hard to catch even anger in his voice at that point, monotone and cold as he managed to be. His brother left on his own accord - Regulus had too much pride to cry for him to return. He would never so much as even consider it. So instead, he would do everything he could to push him away entirely; for the sake of himself and his family name. On that notion alone, he kicked the broken frame across the floor towards his brother, "Leave," he ordered. "Now."

OOC: sucky cause I had to rush <33 be better next time!

[madie]

At the sight of Regulus’ face, Sirius felt himself visibly pale, a bombardment of questions buzzing through his head... gone so fast he barely had time to register them. Why wasn’t Regulus out with their parents? Why was he sitting in his room? What was he doing with his photo?... Why hadn’t he said anything yet? What the hell was going on?

At the sound of the picture frame shattering, Sirius cringed slightly, his eyes lingering on the broken pieces a little longer than necessary. Specks of light reflected off the glass, leaving shard shaped shadows across his brother’s face, harsh and brutal, accentuating his features, as if the boy’s anger weren’t already obvious enough...

”Regulus..” He mirrored, tone slightly mimicking. I mean really... what did he expect? Of course he was going to come back for his things.
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, the boy moved to open his wardrobe, pulling out his old Hogwarts trunk as he did. He allowed his brother to let off some steam while he went about packing, throwing the odd glance towards him. Between pulling clothes from their hangers, listening to Regulus’ ramblings and worrying about Charlus, Sirius barely had time to dwell on the fact he was home again. That is, if Grimmauld Place could even be considered a home in the first place. When the boy began talking about abandonment however, he turned towards him, remaining perfectly still. He supposed that’s what made Regulus’ next move all the more dramatic.

Kicking the picture frame across the floor, Regulus took on a tone scarily similar to his fathers. The tone in itself was enough to drive daggers through his older brothers heart, the words? Like salt in the wounds.

Frowning slightly, Sirius returned his brothers gaze, hands delved deep into his pants pockets. ”Charlus is outside” He replied nonchalantly, trying his hardest to look unaffected by his brothers words, ”I’ll leave once I’m finished packing”. Turning his back on Regulus then, Sirius bent down to lift the bottom out of his wardrobe, having cast an enlargement charm on the thing sometime after second year. Reaching in, he pulled out a stash of random muggle objects, magazines, nick-knacks , books, things he had accumulated over the years.

Pulling his dress robes off their hanger, Sirius met an emotional crossroads. Looking over his shoulder at Regulus, he realized why the decision was such a difficult one. The stupid robes were green... and to him, they symbolized everything he was leaving behind. His mother had had Reg made a matching set... both sporting the Black crest of course. Did he really want a reminder like that hanging in his wardrobe? A reminder of everything he had left behind?

With Regulus watching so avidly behind him, Sirius wasn’t so sure he had the heart to leave them either. He knew leaving them would mean the end of their relationship. Leaving them would cut his ties from the Black family completely. But then again, wasn’t that what he had always wished for?

”Why are you still standing there?” He asked rather bluntly, robes clasped firmly between his hands. Dear Merlin... why did this have to be so hard?

[avyx]

Sirius meant nothing to him. Nothing. He had to repeat it in his head, trying desperately to keep his cool; his composure so it would not shake him from what he was essentially determined to do. From what he'd been fighting internally over doing for the past weeks in his brothers absence. Burning him out. Regulus had to burn him out the same way his mother did to their family tapestry. Sirius was no longer deserving of the hurt he'd inflicted on him the last four years - of the neglect and abandonment he'd felt the moment he watched his brothers back disappear behind the door, determined to never return - or even look back to see his brother watching from the top of the stairwell. Sirius didn't deserve the rage, the hurt, the pain of it all. Yet it was still there, wedged so deep, it was like a cavity that couldn't be filled. All he could do was pretend, pretend and fake it like he had learned to do as a noble Black. So when his brother began moving around like what he was saying had no affect, Regulus fought to keep from losing himself completely to rage, hands clenched to his sides, stern and steady as ever as Sirius stopped to face him.

He had to be. He couldn't... Banishing the onslaught of thoughts threatening to break his dignity he stared back at his brother in complete silence, until of course... he mentioned Charlus. Regulus felt his forehead twitch. Whether it was visibly noticeable or not, he wasn't certain but he could not hid the tremble in his clenched fingers. And hiding them behind his back would only be showing Sirius that he had acknowledged such. So he clenched his fingers harder into his palms, nails biting into his skin enough to hurt. "How dare you bring a Potter to this house," The fury in his eyes flared, despite the ice laced to thickly over his voice. While it was true that Charlus was married to a Black - a Black that was not disinherited at that, his parents, and himself as well, had never thought of the Potter's in high regards at all - their son only elaborating as to why that was. They were pure, yes - and to some degree Dorea was still a Black. The fact that she hadn't been burned from the tree was proof of that.... If only his parents knew that she had taken in Sirius. If...

Something in his gut floored him. A realization that he could never so much as mention any of this to his parents. His stomach balled up so tightly as he found himself snapping loose again. Stepping back as Sirius riffled through what appeared to be an assortment of muggle paraphernalia, he came to the conclusion that he had put a stop to this at once, as if it were actually possible. Sirius spoke once more and Regulus found himself faltering in silence, lips thinned and tightly clamped, eyes narrowed and features fighting for repose. Clenching his fingers once more he looked at his brother, who had his hands clasped around a robe, "I..." he choked, his resolve quickly slipping. "What difference does it make where I stand?" He finally let out, more hurt in his voice than he had wanted to let out. And then he steeled over once more, an internal struggle fighting to maintain equilibrium, "That never seemed to matter to you before." Voice and gaze hardened to this at the rush of memories - of watching, standing in the distance as his brother was too caught up with his friends to notice him. "And it shouldn't now."

He gave Sirius the coldest look he could muster in his state, relying on the visual of what it must of been like for his mother to burn her own sons face off the wall. On how much it crippled her mind. Sirius might not ever know - but Regulus did. And that gave him more than enough to collect himself. For her sake.

OOC: ;_; also also, I am making assumptions in this post. If they seem incorrect I will adjust accordingly!

[madie]

Sirius continued to pack despite his brother’s attempts to stop him, a white hot anger in the pit of his stomach only him on. How dare Regulus speak of the Potters that way? How dare he speak of them as if he knew them. Regulus didn’t know them... he’d barely even met them for god sakes!

Come to think of it, none of his family had ever really met the Potters. Aside from the odd passing by on the platform, the Blacks had never made an attempt. Dorea had all but cut her ties with his family after all, and hence, the Black’s looked to cut their ties with her. Although she was still technically a member of the family, she no longer received invitations to balls, weddings, or funerals- she was as good as disowned. She was just like Sirius in that sense.

Sirius could only vaguely remember the first time he met the Potters in fact, the first time his parents had met the Potters actually. It had been the first holidays after sorting, and he had spent the entire train ride home playing exploding snap with James and Peter. Remus had fallen asleep within the first few minutes of course, the poor boy having been exhausted after the full moon the night before ((not that he had been able to piece the facts together at the time...)). Regulus had come rushing up to him, near knocking him onto the train tracks- and his parents had simply stood tutting, looking severely unimpressed by their actions. James had dragged him over to meet his parents, and they had hugged him- and it had been wonderful. But Sirius' parents had taken him by the shoulder then, dragged him away after a rather awkward exchange of pleasantries.

Those few minutes spent with the Potters had been the highlight of his holidays really, with Regulus spending increasingly short amounts of time with him as the break progressed. His parents had brainwashed him after all, warned him against playing with ‘filth like him’.

Looking up at his brother now, Sirius could not help but feel miles away from that moment. No longer was Reg the little boy who tackled him on the platform, or the quivering child who climbed into his bed after a nightmare. No, Regulus was a man now... angry, vengeful, hurtful. Regulus was a god damned spitting image of their father as a teenager... and it made him sick.

”How else was I supposed to get here dickhead?” He asked bitterly, rolling his eyes. ”I sure as hell wasn’t going to walk again... it took long enough the first time” He bantered, continuing to throw his things into his suitcase. Some part of him felt a little smug at the premise of reminding his brother of his running away, a small smile playing on his lips at the mention of walking. He felt almost superior for once... the knowing that he had finally escaped this god forsaken house filling him with a sense of contentment. A bigger part of him regretted the words however, his smile fading as quickly as it had come, with his intentions far from hurting his brother’s feelings. He just wanted to get his things and leave really... was that so much to ask for?

Hearing his brother’s voice crack, Sirius cringed, a pang of guilt wracking his body. Why did he seem so intent on making this entire experience more difficult on his brother hm? Surely it was already hard enough to deal with.

”Listen Reg... the faster I pack, the faster Charlus and I are out of here...” He said a little softer, ” So you can either stand there and mope, or you can help me pack my things. Looking over to the broken picture frame then, Sirius frowned slightly, a watery lump tugging at the back of his throat. That certainly didn’t belong on the floor.

Crossing the room, Sirius bent run his hands along the photo, filly aware of his brothers lingering eyes. A younger version of he and his friends smiled playfully up at him, evoking a slight smile. ”I’m surprised you haven’t told mother dearest where I am yet... I’ve been waiting for Orion to drop by and pay a visit” He driveled absentmindedly, pocketing the picture.

”Who do you think would win in a fight reggy?... him or Charlus?”

”Who do you think would win in a fight reggy? A Centaur or an Acromantula?”

”Who do you think would win in a fight reggy? A Mermaid or a Vampire?”

”Who do you think would win in a fight reggy?...?”

... the question was one Sirius was sure his brother would recognize, after all, he had asked the same question every time the boy had curled up against him in bed. It had gotten his mind off the nightmares, given him something to think about- talk about. He only hoped it would get him talking now.

[avyx]

If moments ago, he had envisioned his reunion with Sirius to be this complex, he was quite certain he would have deemed himself more than capable of maintaining the utmost control. But on account of it being so unexpected with the timing so inconvenient - with Regulus caught in the vicinity of his brothers room, he was clearly struggling far more than he care to. And it was getting to him. A headache had already formed and the dream-like mirage was blanketed over the situation with the promise to confuse and delude. The way the state of surrealism did. He knew better than to question whether or not Sirius was actually in front of him, digging through his wardrobes and packing up his belongings. Because even if he wanted to believe he wasn't, Sirius was still there, rupturing his focus by simply being himself and seeming not to care. As if he hadn't changed despite being burned from the face of the family tree. Though, he supposed something like that was only inevitable - even to Sirius himself. He had always made it a habit to piss of their parents and it was no surprise for him to go too far. It didn't make it any easier for anything, however. Not for him, or his parents; who seemed to become very different people after Sirius had left. His mother weakened, his father hardened.

As for himself? He was fairly certain - behind his mask of pride, that he was fighting between both. Part of him wanting to unscrew to lull the pain, another partial to the idea of shelling over with ice. Neither seemed like worthwhile prospects however and as much as Regulus was so innately devoted to his parents, he did not quite relish the idea of falling entirely in line with their personal discord. Regulus, after all was still his own person, despite what Sirius thought and he would neither be his mother nor his father. He would be Regulus Black, he was Regulus Arcturus Black. Proud and confidant. His fingers continued to claw into his palms, face still relatively cold and sinking harder thus as Sirius continued to make worse of the already bitter situation. Glaring icily at the name he was called and further sneering, "Your Potter, has no right to be here. Nor do you," He managed through clenched teeth, "You are trespassing." A made fact that Sirius seemed to be failing to understand - which was all the more grating on his patience. The more he stood there, the more foolish he felt for doing so, but his Pride refused to let him leave the room. That and hidden deep beneath it all, there was a child harbouring a fear, half expecting to never see Sirius again if he walked away now. Even if rationality told him Sirius was bound to return to Hogwarts.

"I am not moping." He immediately replied, the moment the comment was made. A stubborn sentiment on his lips. He was most certainly not pouting. At least, he wouldn't very well believe it no matter what anyone said. Particularly Sirius who was far more scorn worthy than he was of his brooding. As Regulus maintained that no self-respecting Black would brood, much less over a person. To further prove such, he made the extra effort of clenching his jaw, crossing hims arms over his chest smugly. It took a great deal more to remain as such as Sirius brought up their mother, fury burning in his black coal eyes, "Mother, is not in any condition to deal with a matter as trivial as this." Regulus made no effort to elaborate. After all, he was no longer a part of the family and it was not like Sirius to care about their parents. And while it was distinctly obvious that the matter wasn't nearly as trivial as he made it sound, he very much refused to admit it out loud.

There was a distinct ache in his jaw as it continued to clench, his fingers as well as Sirius pocketed the image of his friends. A heavy dose of his childhood jealousy spiked higher, hurt by the reality of the situation. Sirius wouldn't think twice to leave the picture behind, but he had had no qualms in abandoning his brother. And as much as he could rationalize it and turn that hurt into fury, his feelings had no proper out lit and he was slowly losing out, heat radiating from his cheeks, eyes strained. But it was only when Sirius starting talking about their father and of Charlus Potter that it his makeshift wall came crashing down around him, memories almost ringing in his ears. His breath hitched, hands uncoiled and shook too much to go unnoticed, his face struggling too hard for composure so as not to reveal the insurgent of agony screaming in his skull. It wasn't really a question of who would win. In fact, it wasn't even in his mind to conjure a response, his mouth opening to say something and no words coming out.

Mermaid or vampire? A prescription to quell late night paranoia.

Centaur or acromantula? A nightmare whisked away.

... Charlus or Orion? A final cry to pacify the animousity.

But he couldn't find the words. There were far too many emotions crowding him. Far too many feelings crowding out thought and all he could do was numbly step back and stare down at his shaking hands, eyes curtained by his fringe.

[madie]

Sirius was not blind - contrary to what most may think, he was not blind. Sirius Black knew all too well of the effects his leaving had on his family, all too well of the scrutiny he had subjected them too. He had been the Black heir after all, next in line for head of house. By leaving, Sirius had tarnished their family name, condemned them to the judgment of other pureblood families. They were left to the mercy of gossiping housewives and disapproving businessmen really, and yet, Sirius found himself unable conjure one ounce of pity for his parents. His life’s ambition had been to run his family name into the ground after all... and although this was far from it, it was as close as he ever hoped to get. Now that he was disowned, his actions no longer reflected upon his family. If anything, they reflected on the Potter’s. So, he figured feeding their remains to the lions was as close as he was ever going to get.

Sirius was not blind to his brother’s feelings of betrayal either – contrary to what most may think. The chaser knew all too well that Regulus had been hurt by his leaving, scarred by his running away. Sirius knew, beyond anything else in fact, that his brother hated him for what he had done. He had turned his back on his family after all, and in Regulus’ eyes, that was unforgivable.

Sirius was content with letting his brother hate him however, perfectly at peace with being the villain. It was better his brother hate him than mourn him after all, better he despise him than lose him. Sirius figured it was better this way, better he let Regulus scream than cry. This way, the boy never had to miss him, reminisce about how things used to be. Never would he stay awake tossing and turning, unable to sleep at night. Never would he have to feel the guilt, the pain, the sadness that his older brother did. Regulus was happier this way...

And Sirius wanted his younger brother to be happy, he truly did. In all honesty, he had been his soul reason for staying. Had Regulus not been around, Sirius would have left long before his sixth year. His parent’s had never cared about him after all, neither had his cousins nor aunties and uncles. Regulus had been the only one to ever give two shits about him... as much as he was certain the younger boy would deny it. Sirius only wished his brother would realize it was a two way street. He was the only one who cared... the only one who cared about him beyond his title. True though this might have been, Sirius could no longer put his brother’s happiness above his own safety. There was only so much one person could endure. He wasn’t so stupid as to stay.

”Mr Potter’s my guest... he has just as much right to be here as anybody else” Sirius snapped, tossing his things into the bag a little quicker. If he had been a cartoon character, the animagus was sure steam would have been rising from his ears about then. He was beyond fuming after all. ”Does it look like I give two shits anyhow Reg?” He barked, ”since when have I ever cared about rules or laws... plus, it’s not as if you’re going to report me”

Continuing about his business, Sirius tried his hardest to ignore his brother’s presence. Try as he might though, he had never been one to pass up an opportunity to cause trouble. Annoying his brother was one of his favorite pastimes after all. ”You are moping” he chuckled, turning to face Regulus as he did. ”Heck, you’re even pouting”

Sniggering to himself as he packed, Sirius could not help but snort at the mention of his mother. As much as he realized Regulus adored the woman, he couldn’t bring himself to feign any sorts of sympathy. The woman was getting her just desserts as far as he was concerned, for all he cared she could go fling herself off a cliff. She was no mother of his. She never had been.

”What’s the matter Reggie, cat got your tongue?” he questioned, raising his eyebrow at the younger boy. He could not help but smirk then, a small grin playing on his features.”Where is kitty anyhow?” he continued, gesturing around the near empty room. Although he really couldn’t have cared less where the cat had wandered off too, Sirius wanted nothing more than to strike up a conversation with his brother. He wanted to savor this last moment, salvage it while he still could. There were still redeemable qualities within his brother after all; Sirius simply didn’t have the means to save them anymore. No longer did they live under the same roof; no longer could he attempt to relinquish their parents hold on him. If anything, Sirius had given him one gigantic push in the wrong direction. And he hated himself for that. He hated himself for abandoning his brother- it made him sick to the stomach. Sirius only hoped he had made enough of an impression on his brother’s life to change him, to show him the error to their parent’s ways.

Whilst Sirius may not have been there to hold his brothers hand, that did not mean he had stopped caring. If anything, it had only made him care more. He just wished Regulus would realize that, realize that leaving home didn’t necessarily mean leaving him.