Victim of Love

Truth or No Truth

Sirius had no idea what to think about Severus Prince. He had been the one to drive Regulus over the edge, the end of all ends. Perhaps it was rude to think of it that way, from what the latter had told him, Regulus had taken the mark before the pale man left him. But then again, Severus was a stranger to him, how much of his words could he truly trust? For the moment, for the most part, it seemed easier to play it by ear. He needed to keep in touch with the others, keep a steady eye on where he went and what he did.

Blaming the shorter man for his brother's death may have been a bit presumptuous, but Sirius knew what he knew. Everything he knew, he'd gained from his uncles' portrait who had willingly spoken both kindly and crudely of Severus Prince.

'The boy was a menace when I was alive ' Alphard spoke with humour.

' He was the only one outside of you who'd tell Walburga and that useless father of yours where they could shove it, Though sometimes he spoke in snide remarks, commenting on their upbringing of both your brother and you. '

"He didn't know me"

' Maybe not in the flesh, but Regulus was very generous in information ' Sirius couldn't help but think that maybe the other had been working for the dark side all along, Maybe he was trying to gain information on the situation of the New/Old Black heir. He began to think back to other things his uncle had said and how much he could trust the old man's words. Maybe he was just as untrustworthy? Could he even trust the words of a fucking painting?

Family first, right? Not as though he'd lived by that mantra while his family was alive, but people change and losing something so important would teach you to appreciate more. Even his mother and father's shitty behaviour and their purist, extremist beliefs. Tolerating them wouldn't mean having their portraits strewn about so that they could criticize him and his dirty mud-blood loving and mud-blood friends. Though he knew it wouldn't hurt to have his brother around even if it was somewhere private like his living room, somewhere nice like behind the hearth of the fireplace.

He stepped upstairs into the attic to retrieve his brother's portrait, something he'd covertly hidden in fear of feeling for him. It's not like he didn't understand why he'd done it, taken the mark but there was a part of him that was beginning to believe there was more to the story of Regulus Black that he didn't know. Maybe keeping in touch with the Prince could aid him in this.

Ignoring the shrieking squalls of his mother and father, Sirius reached out to his brother who looked shocked to see him. Sirius smiled awkwardly as he held onto his brother.

"Haven't held you like this in a while, right?"

"Is there a reason you've reached out to me?" Sirius looked unsure as he spoke next.

"I met someone the-"

"Ooooh, Fancy. you have the feely feels" Sirius at his brother's cheeky smile and sing-song voice.

"Painting or not, you're still a shithead, You know that right?" As Sirius lifted the painting, Regulus jostled slightly by the movement, an unimpressed huff bursting from his lips.

"There must be more to it then since you're genuinely retrieving me from this dusty hell hole" Steadying himself as the descended the attic and the stairs, Regulus looked over his brother's shoulders waving goodbye to his parents and grandparents sarcastically.

"Yeah, as I was trying to say, somebody came by the other day looking for you." He placed Regulus above the floo, trying to arrange him accordingly.

"He said he was looking for you at least, But I have a feeling that wasn't all he wanted. There were tears and whatnot, the bloke even had a sob story but parts of it didn't sit well with me." Regulus frowned at Sirius in thought.