dying-for-jegulus:

From the day you were born, Regulus, I knew I’d be there for you. Even if you didn’t.
I was allowed to hold you when you were two days old. I didn’t notice how closely they were watching me; I wasn’t even two, after all, and you were so small.
With my sticky toddler fingers, I held your tiny pink hands for hours and days, and when they grabbed mine, my face brightened up, and so did yours.
When you first tried to crawl, I got down on my knees and taught you how to do it right. It took you a while to catch on, but when you did, you started chasing me. You always wanted to be with me, and I was always there.
When you were one year old, little Reggie, you learnt how to walk. I led you out of your nursery, walking backwards in front of you, holding your fat little forearms, and you followed me and beamed at me. Mother got upset with me, and you cried. I wasn’t mad at her for telling me off, I was mad because she had made you sad. But she picked you up and cradled you in her arms until you smiled.
I got a toy Quaffle for my fourth birthday from Uncle Alphard. I taught you how to hold and throw it. I didn’t know a lot about Quidditch back then, but I explained everything I knew to you. You were a patient listener. You’d always listen to me, understand me, and you followed me everywhere I went. You were like my little sidekick, Reg, and whenever I wanted to build a pillow fort, I’d tell you what to do and you’d help me do it. You’d bring me stuffed animals to cuddle and books to read to you. I couldn’t actually read yet, but I’d just make something up and you’d listen to me.
I learnt how to read when I was six. I wasn’t very good at it and I didn’t like the books mother gave me. I still tried to teach you how to do it, because you asked me how. You were a fast learner, Regulus. We ended up learning together, and I liked it better in the end. I’d still read stories to you. Babbitty Rabbitty was your favourite.
You were six, my little Reggie, when I had the glorious idea of making the walls in my room more optically appealing. I asked you to help me paint over the boring old silk wallpaper, and you helped. I thought it ended up being really beautiful, but Mother didn’t think so. She yelled at us and slapped our hands, mine a bit harder because I was older. We both cried.
But Reggie, can you remember the times we went to see Uncle Alphard? Mother didn’t like him because he’d have different women over almost every time we went to see him and didn’t marry, but he had a large garden and let us play Quidditch. You were a faster flier, and I was a better chaser. And one time, when you were seven, Narcissa and Andromeda showed you how to make daisy chains. You got impatient quickly, but you made one for me to put into my long hair like Cissy. That was the only time you made a daisy chain in your life.
I got a chess set for my ninth birthday, and I taught you how to play. I had played with Uncle Alphard very often, and I thought I’d be better than you. It didn’t take you long to outsmart me. I guess you’ve always been more of a strategist than me. Still, I loved playing with you.
When you were eight, you accidentally knocked over a vase with the new broomstick you’d gotten for Christmas. Mother snapped and yelled at you, dug her claws into your lean little shoulders and shook you until you were weeping. When I tried to tell her to stop, she pushed me against the wall. My back hurt for weeks, but I just had to protect you. As always.
When I was ten and you were nine, we made up a story about two little boys who had no parents, just each other, and they found a golden treasure in the Jungle. The animals took them to an old fortress, and they ended up living there happily ever after. We built our fortress out of paper boxes, and Mother told us we were too old for these ridiculous little plays. Toujours Pur, we learned, meant Always Boring.
Mother stiffly hugged me when I got my Hogwarts letter and faked a smile, but she took me to Diagon Alley and bought all my stuff for me. I was the Heir. Regulus, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice you trailing behind us like a stray cat.
The morning I left, Father wasn’t home. When I didn’t hurry up, Mother screamed at me and kicked me down the stairs. I was almost used to these incidents. You didn’t try to help me, you never did. You just stood there, your face white, your lip trembling, and when she was gone you hugged me tightly around the waist and asked if I was alright. That was your way of helping me. As always.
I’m sorry, little Reggie, for making you cry by leaving, but I had to. I wouldn’t have made it out alive.
I’m sorry for finding more brothers in Hogwarts.
I’m sorry for not being a Slytherin. I’m sorry for telling you. I’m so sorry for what they did to you when you were the one to tell them. You shouldn’t have.
I’m sorry I didn’t come home for Christmas that year. That was selfish, but I didn’t realise until later.
Oh, Regulus, I missed your letters.
You wrote to me almost every day in the beginning, telling me new things, sending me the books you were reading.
I watched all the pieces of you that Mother ripped out of you fade into nothingness as your letters arrived less frequently and became dull and empty. It wasn’t you any more who had written them, not truly, just a shell. I’m sorry I thrived while you suffered.
You were pale and thin when I came back home. Kreacher had been your only friend, and you flinched when I tried to hug you, as though you were always prepared for someone hurting you. Mother had carved Toujours Pur into your flesh with a knife. Seeing the white scar on your lower back was the worst thing Mother had ever done to me, because I should have come home for Christmas.
You weren’t smiling any more. But I took you to the lake and taught you how to swim. I loved you with every cell of my heart and brain, my baby brother. I’d let you sleep in my bedroom every night because it made your nightmares go away, even though I had nightmares, too. Mother wasn’t making us feel at home. I was glad you’d gotten your letter, too. I wanted Hogwarts to become our home, and when you didn’t become a Gryffindor like me, James helped me smuggle you into our dorm.
I didn’t return home for Christmas. But this time, you were there with me, and you smiled even when Mother didn’t send us any presents. Because we had each other. Remember? Do you remember how we were always safe when we had each other?
Oh, little brother, I love you so much. I wish it had always stayed that way. Please, please come back.

Sirius x

that’s okay i didnt need my heart