Chapter Text
Regulus sat by his window and watched the drops of rain slowly slide down the cool glass. He tried to focus on the drops rather than the empty street that his brother had disappeared through nearly two weeks prior. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the yelling between Sirius and his mother followed by his brother storming up the stairs to his room and throwing his things into his trunk in a hurry before rushing out the front door with a bang. The last Regulus had seen of Sirius was his brother riding down the street on his motorcycle without a backward glance, not seeing his younger brother standing by the window in his room with tears streaming down his face.
Ignoring the ache in his chest, Regulus wiped away a stray tear that had managed to escape his eye. He stood up slowly, careful not to further agitate any of the wounds on his body, and made his way to his bathroom where Kreacher had drawn a warm bath for him. Removing his robes, he let them fall to the floor in a heap before slowly descending into the bath with a soft sigh. His muscles instantly relaxed when they came in contact with the warm water, and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the moment.
He then picked up the small rag and his soap and started cleansing his aching body. His eyes followed his hands, and for the first time since his brother left he truly looked at his body, having been too nervous to do so before. Ugly cuts and bruises, some old and some still healing, littered almost every part of his body. Some were from his mother’s wand and some from his father's fists, but the worst of it all were the words engraved into his left arm, right where his dark mark was supposed to go, if his parents got their way;
Toujours Pur
Always pure
His mother had cut him with her own, sharp wand while he was still laying whimpering on the floor as an effect of the Cruciatus curse she had cast on him only minutes before. It would leave a nasty scar, she had made sure of it.
It wasn’t always this bad. Usually, his punishments would be much less severe and lasting. But since his brother ran away his parents had been more… determined, so to say, to make sure that he would never become anything like his blood traitor of a brother. And the family motto, that was never, ever, to be forgotten.
It wasn’t until the water had turned cold that Regulus stepped out of the bath and put on a bathrobe and stepped back into his room. He looked around at the mess, clothes and books were everywhere as he was packing for his return for his sixth year at Hogwarts. He had never dreaded returning to Hogwarts as he did now, on the contrary actually, he usually looked forward to going back to school. But it was different now, now he would have to watch his brother prance around the school with the three idiots he called his friends, and Potter , who Sirius had most likely run off to. The boy that he called brother while at the same time abandoning his actual brother without so much as a goodbye. He knew his relationship with Sirius had been strained, to say the least, since his sorting, but he had always thought his big brother still somewhat cared about him. But sadly, he had been proved wrong.
As much as he dreaded seeing his brother, he was equally as happy to escape his parents, at least until Yule. He knew that his parents expected him to receive the mark on Yule break rather than after his graduation as they had intended before the whole incident with Sirius. The mere thought of the mark branding his arm made his stomach drop to his feet. It wasn’t that he liked or cared for muggles and mudbloods but he didn’t hate them either. Some of the stories of raids, murders and torture his cousin Bellatrix had told him about made him want to vomit. He may not have cared for muggles, but the thought of defenseless muggle children being subjected to the Cruciatus curse and then murdered in cold blood didn’t sit right with him.
A knock on his bedroom door snapped him out of his thoughts and he carefully opened it, afraid that it was either of his parents there. To his relief, however, it was only Kreacher behind the door.
“Is master Regulus finished with his packing?” Asked the house-elf with his usual raspy voice.
“Yes Kreacher, I will be finished in a moment.” Was the boy’s reply. “Everything is ready, I just need to put it all into the trunk.”
“Master Regulus mustn’t do that, he must rest and heal before the new year at Hogwarts. Allow Kreacher to pack for the young master.” The little house elf walked into the room and immediately started to put his books and clothes neatly into the trunk on the floor.
Regulus didn’t have the energy to argue and instead settled down with a wince on his neatly made bed, his ribs weren’t broken, but they were heavily bruised, causing most of his movements to be painful.
“Thank you, Kreacher.” The boy said when the elf had finished and closed the trunk.
“Kreacher is happy to serve little master Regulus, he is much nicer than his filthy blood traitor brother. Oh yes, former master Sirius was always so nasty to Kreacher and his poor mistress. Forcing master Orion and mistress Walburga to punish master Regulus harder so that he won’t turn out like his bad brother.” Kreacher had started mumbling to himself rather than speaking directly to Regulus in his rant, and was walking around the room and tidying up.
The mention of his brother caused the ache in his chest that had been a near-constant since Sirius ran away to resurface. He didn’t notice that his expression had morphed into a deep frown until Kreacher stood right in front of him.
“Master Regulus is not to be sad because his blood traitor brother betrayed his family. Master Regulus is a good son and will make his family proud, that Kreacher knows. Now, the little master must rest, he is to rise early tomorrow to board the train to Hogwarts. But first Kreacher must wrap the wound on master’s arm.” The little elf patted Regulus’s hands that were resting on his lap comfortingly before making his way out of the room and closing the door behind him.
Regulus sighed and fell back on the bed, hissing as his wounds were jostled once more. Mother had not allowed him to use any dittany on the wounds she had carved onto his left arm, instead forcing him to let it heal on its own without magic so that the scarring wouldn’t go away and so that the message would always be there for him to see. That had been almost two weeks ago, one day after Sirius had run away. It wasn’t bleeding anymore but it wasn’t healing either and required regular cleansing and wrapping to avoid infection.
Kreacher came back shortly after with a small bag and he used its contents to clean and wrap Regulus’s arm before wishing him goodnight and leaving. He had also cleaned and wrapped some of the newer cuts and bruises on the boy’s body, his mistress hadn’t mentioned anything about not helping with those, so technically Kreacher wasn’t breaking any rules.
Now washed and dressed, Regulus climbed under the covers of the bed with an exhausted sigh. He lazily turned off the light on his nightstand and closed his eyes as his room was engulfed by darkness. His head had barely hit the pillow before he was asleep, dreaming of the better days of his childhood when Sirius and he would constantly be playing together, before Hogwarts, before the sorting, before Potter and his friends. He dreamt of a time when they were still brothers.