PART I REGULUS
You were...the best part for me. Of being here. Of...being.
September 1972
Regulus watches as the train station flies by outside the window. People and buildings blurring together as they pull away from all the things he knows. He can't even see Kreacher anymore. Won't see him again until Christmas.
"C'mon," Sirius nudges him lightly with his elbow. "I'll introduce you to the boys, you'll love 'em."
Regulus looks up at Sirius and doesn't think he's imagining the strain in his smile. Things have been...weird, since he came back from school this summer. Every time they talk it's like there's something they're trying not to say, only Regulus isn't sure what it is. Just knows he's being careful. Tiptoeing around their conversations.
It doesn't help that Sirius has been fighting with their mum more. It's Sirius's fault for shoving the fact that he's a Gryffindor in her face. For bringing up James bloody Potter every five seconds. Even just thinking the name makes Regulus roll his eyes. When Sirius wasn't up in his room writing him letters, he was in Regulus's room talking about him. It got so annoying that one day Regulus just snapped:
"If you love him so much why don't you just go bloody marry him."
Sirius had blinked. "Jeez Reg, excuse me for having friends."
Regulus doesn't know why they can't seem to get along anymore. Why hearing about Hogwarts has stopped being fun and started being aggravating. He just wants things to go back to normal. Wants Sirius to stop picking fights with their parents and looking so disappointed when Regulus doesn't want to pick them with him.
"Pretty sure they're down here somewhere," Sirius mutters as they make their way along the train car, squishing against the wall to allow other students to pass them. Regulus wants desperately to ask Sirius if they can just sit on their own, but he already knows the answer will be "no" and he doesn't want to have to endure the pain of hearing it.
"Ah, yup, that sounds like James's laugh."
Regulus's stomach lurches. "Sirius—"
But Sirius is already sliding open the door, letting loose a flurry of young voices.
"Lads," Sirius throws out his arms. "I've arrived."
"About bloody time!"
A boy with wild brown hair gets out of his seat, instantly pulling Sirius into a hug. He's wearing a pair of glasses, slightly lopsided on his nose, and his eyes remind Regulus of the colour of the creek near their home in Scotland.
There are two other boys in the compartment, both lighter haired, one with a ghastly scar running across his face. He's the first one to make eye contact with Regulus, who is still standing a few feet behind his brother in the open doorway. The scarred boy smiles. Regulus does not smile back.
After a few minutes of Sirius and the bespectacled boy joshing one another back and forth—laughing and babbling and pushing and shoving—Sirius finally seems to remember Regulus is there.
"This is Reg by the way," he smiles when he says it, which Regulus thinks is maybe a good sign, slinging his arm around Reg's shoulders and squeezing. "Reg, these are the boys—Remus," he nods towards the scarred one who offers Regulus a wave, but Regulus isn't sure if it would be odd for him to return it or not so he just keeps his hands in his pockets. "And that there's Peter."
"Hi," Peter says without looking up from the chocolate frog cards in his lap.
"And James."
James.
