#the fate of the world doesn't land in the hands of a twelve year old who barely knows how to use her magic and an up-his-own-ass blind fell

[tracle0]

hello hello! hope you're well!! I'm here to offer my nano playlist making services :D what's the vibe?

o/ howdy! the vibe is 'small bookish child who really wants a cool fantasy adventure in the same vein as the Famous Five or something similar is apprenticed by a man possessed by a storm, and colours are important and magic. Together, they've got to destroy a nondescript object capable of bleaching all pigments everywhere, which is a Bad Thing'

[visd3stele]

@suckerforrosekiller

oh, you mean hurt like this?

Sirius hated green. He always had. The jade scales and dark emmerald eyes of his family's home snakes staring him down, the velvet green and black of the walls, the furniture, the drapes. Everything was green. His clothes, his mother's jewels, his father's expensive watches. He wasn't.

Green was everything his parents stood for. Every punishment and harsh word. Every little thing he was supposed to be, but couldn't. Wouldn't. No matter the price he'd have to pay.

Sirius' death was green too. The veil between worlds – this and the one beyond – ruptured to make way for him. Shades of green enveloped him like the puffy blankets that lulled him to sleep in infancy, carrying his soul to the other side. But if the baby slept soundly through, the man yelled his throat hoarse.

It wasn't fair! Harry doesn't need to know that, but after twelve years of prison he can't get only a couple with his godson. He didn't even enjoy freedom, taste the real world! All his life Sirius has been scooped in his family's affairs and expectations, desperately trying to rid himself of both and when he finally broke free he found himself a child-soldier in the war. He fought and killed and gave his all to a man who couldn't wait for his fall. Who wanted to believe he's as dark and hateful and evil and green as his family. Despite him chosing red and gold everyone expected and waited for his true colors to shine through. Black. And green.

Why is there so much green? Wasn't the light at the end suppossed to be white? Sirius wished it was white. So it might blind him and have the pain dull the ache in his chest. He lost everything before he could even say he had it all. Friendships, love, a chance at a real family, guardianship over that beautiful, smart kid James entrusted him with... all slipped through his fingers. Gone with his souls.

His soul that's taking his sweet time getting to the afterlife. As if it liked torturing Sirius with memories and regrets. Well, jokes on it! If the Dementors couldn't break him, green death has no chance.

And as if the veil took offense to the wizard's thoughts, it shreded, letting his soul fall in nothingness. The water he landed in was cold, dragging him under, catching onto his feet and hardening with weights to pull him down forever.

Waves crushed over Sirius' head. He didn't think he'll need to breath ever again, but his lungs burned and he felt the dizzyness of drowning take over. Black spotting his vission, panic seizing his heart. What happens with dead souls that die in the afterlife?

"Brother!"

A shriek. A boyish yelp Sirius never thought he'll hear again. And then a hand. Before he could understand it, a hand pulled him out and instead of waves and swirling currents a smaller body now crushed into his.

"Regulus?"

The boy's tears soaked Sirius' already damp clothes. He didn't know the dead could feel as the living do. He always thought his spirit in the afterlife would be more like the ghosts in Hogwarts. And yes, it was much easier to ponder over his death's experiences than to think about his little brother hugging him again.

Merlin's beard! It's been years since the last time they saw each other. Even more since they got along. Sirius has tried to turn Regulus' mind over the right side, but his little brother was as stubborn as he was. Choosing their name over the fate of the world.

Somehow, Sirius couldn't be mad right now. Not when he watched a seventeen years old Regulus slowly detangle himself from his robes and wiping his eyes, looking somewhat ashamed of his outburst. He was just a little boy. He remained one, because he died young. Sirius grew up, became a man, but Regulus never did. Sirius always wondered why. How.

"Sorry. I thought I lost you again." Regulus mumbled, looking at his feet. Blacks don't have tantrums. Don't show emotions. It's a liability. It makes them look vulnerable. And the Ancient and most Noble House of Black is never weak.

"It's fine." Sirius realized with a startle he was saying the truth. The hug was fine. More than fine. And the wizard found himself reaching for another one before he could stop.

"What do you mean again?" Perhaps he should have caress his brother's hair and tell him assuring words. But Sirius was never good at comforting others. And he fared even worse at confronting his own feelings. Especially when they were si messy.

"You were gone for so long. I didn't have a chance to say goodbye."

Familiar guilt washed over Sirius. He did ponder talking to Regulus the night he ran from home. But he was afraid his brother's betrayed eyes would turn him away. And he couldn't risk it. Sirius never forgave himself for it. For not fighting for Regulus more. Perhaps if he paid more attention to him, talk to him more, his little brother wouldn't have side with a psychotic genocidal idiot.

Then Sirius remembered all the lives lost to Regulus' friends. Likely to Regulus as well, as much as the thought was jarring. It was something Sirius couldn't – wouldn't – entertain as he lived, with James and Peter and Remus suggesting that is likely one of the masked faces they battle or see in the papers doing atrocities belonged to his little brother. The same little brother who would tag along after Sirius because he was afraid to be alone and would sneak in his rooms because he couldn't sleep in the darkness of his bedroom. But it was more than likely true.

Then Sirius became angry. As he always does when his feelings grow bigger than his heart and weight heavy on it.

"Didn't think you'd want to. Can't sully mother's perfect boy talking to a blood traitor."

"Sirius, please!"

"What? It's the truth, innit? I bet you were glowing with pride when they burned my name off, made you heir and gave you that ugly tattoo," and with that Siris gripped Regulus' wrist to shove the snake in his face.

Except, there was no snake. And Regulus hissed in pain, breaking his hand free and nursing it to his chest. Where the tattoo once were, a patch of red, unhealed flesh now stood. It looked like something carved the whole thing out. In horror, Sirius took a better look at his brother. Wounds shone from so many places, Sirius couldn't even understand when one ended and the next begun. None were healed, though some were smaller, like claws' scratches and some were bigger, as if sharp objects punctured the skin to the bone.

"What- what happened to you?"

A thought flourished in Sirius' mind, both hopeful and horrible. What if Voldemort did this to his brother? And what other reason would the dark lord have to torture on of his men other than betrayel?

Incompetence, whispered a dreadful voice. But it couldn't be. Regulus was a prodigy. He never failed. He wasn't like Sirius, he always did things right. As much as Sirius hated hum for it.

And that's exactly why he wouldn't betray his lord.

"A parting gift from you know who."

Sirius' vision blurred. Tears that have been threatening to storm out for some time know broke free on his cheeks. He didn't know why he was crying. Relief, for his brother wasn't a monster? Terror, for the agony his last moments must have been and he went through it alone? Guilt, for hating him for so long, only to be proven wrong? Most likely all at once.

"How... What?" With all their hard work, the Aurors weren't privy to Voldemort's ways. They only reaped the aftermath. But Sirius was pretty sure no magic could leave such marks.

"Inferni. The water protecting his Horcrux was filled with them. I thought I could steal it and make it out alive, but I should have known better, I..."

Regulus' breath was smacked out of his lungs with Sirius' bear hug. "You did great, Reggie. I'm sure your sacrifice will mean so much how this whole mess will end." Sirius let him go to ruffle his hair. "Come on, now, I bet it's quite a story, the trusted devotee turning against his master..."

"Not my master," Regulus protested, but the begginning of a smile bloomed on hid face. Merlin! It's been so long since he last smiled. He was but a small child.

If I could change one thing about Harry Potter canon it would be that Sirius lived just long enough to find out that Regulus turned on Voldemort. That's it. He can still die since she thought that needed to happen. But I need him to know Regulus fought back.