All Of Us Are Ghosts Here (Jegulus / Wolfstar Fic)

Twenty-Three ~ The Truths Kept Hidden

Regulus~

TW: Vague mention of torture and child abuse

A week had passed.

A week since Regulus had caught his brother with his tongue down Remus Lupin's throat.

A week since his conversation with James, the one he was certain had been forgotten.

A week and one day since the first letter.

There had been a new one every night since. He stopped telling the Gryffindor boys after the first one, didn't want to worry them.

After the first night, when the intruder trashed his room, whoever was leaving the letters was more discreet. Regulus was never able to find any proof that someone had been in there, other than the sealed envelopes left on his bed.

It was... unnerving, to say the least.

Correction: it was downright terrifying. But he tried his hardest to hide his fear from his friends. This was his problem, not theirs. He wasn't going to drag them any farther into this than they already were.

Reg decided not to tell his friends for two reasons. The first, to protect them. It would be more dangerous for them if they knew.

More importantly, the second. He didn't tell them because Regulus Black was a coward. His life, his past, was a confusing hodgepodge of problems and memories he couldn't seem to forget. If he told his friends about it, even just a fraction of what had happened to him, they'd leave. He'd learned that people don't go near the broken boy because they're too afraid they'll crack him further.

Regulus acted like his brother, pretended he forgot about the past. But he remembered everything.

He remembered hiding under his bed when he was small enough. He remembered his older brother's screams as they echoed through Grimmauld Place, shaking the windowpanes. He remembered cleaning the blood up after every punishment. Remembered Sirius as he staggered out and left him alone.

And the cage. He would always remember the cage. The agonizing hunger that turned into numbness as the weeks went by. The laughter, the taunting, the false promises. The man who wasn't quite a man anymore, with his whispering voice like a snake's hiss.

It was easier to ignore the memories that filled his head when he was around his friends. They were still there, always, but they were... bearable.

At night, alone in his room, they were impossible to stop. He never slept very well because of them, but it had been worse since the letters started. Now, Regulus was lucky if he got an hour of sleep at night.

...

Our Darling Regulus,

Your father and I tire of this game. You will respond to us by the end of the week, or there will be consequences. Understood? And you will come home for Christmas. We are a family, and your attempts to tear us apart are immature.

You are becoming just like your worthless brother. Selfish. Do you think he'll protect you? Do you think, if it comes down to it, he'd save you over any of his little friends? You are expendable to him, Regulus. To your brother, you are nothing but a pet.

Come home, mon ange. It's where you belong.

Vous êtes à nous, toujours.

Walburga Irma Black

It seemed his mother had grown bored with playing nice. Truly, what did she think she could do to him? He was free, he never had to go back.

Regulus tossed the letter in the bottom drawer of his nightstand with the others before crossing the room to his bookshelf. He'd given up on trying to search his room for his mystery visitor two days ago. There wasn't a point anymore, he wouldn't find anything.

It was just past midnight, but Regulus was far too anxious to fall asleep. He ran his fingers over the familiar bindings of his books, stopping on the worn pair he'd read a thousand times. Hardcover books, one red and the other blue, the covers faded and stained by the sun and time.

He knew it was ridiculous to be so sentimental over a pair of books that had been written thousands of years ago, but he couldn't quite stop the tremor in his hand as he pulled the blue one out. The Oddessy.

Regulus loved Homer's epics for three reasons. For one, they were what he and James had bonded over. But that was only a small part of why he loved them.

When they were both young, when Regulus was still at the age where a thunderstorm was the end of the world, Sirius would tell him stories to keep him calm. And when they got older, when their parents still raged at each other instead of their sons, Sirius would drown out the screaming and crashing with his voice.

Before he left for his first year at Hogwarts, Sirius gave his little brother the set of red and blue books, said that every story he'd ever told him was in there.

More than anything though, Regulus liked the characters. Even the good guys did bad things. Every character made mistakes. Achilles refused to fight. Odysseus couldn't keep his mouth shut. Agamemnon killed his daughter for the war effort.

What he liked most about the epics was that the characters were as fucked up as he was. And if Achilles and Odysseus can still be called heroes with all the blood they had on their hands, then maybe there was still hope for him.

 So Regulus took the blue-bound book, and he sat on his bed. He fell into the familiar story, traced his fingers over the familiar words, and he missed.

He missed his childhood.

He missed his brother.

He missed stormy days hiding under the covers of Sirius' bed.

Running around in the back garden.

Convincing Kreacher to let them dress him up.

And he missed James.

He missed starry nights with board games and hot chocolate and laughter.

He missed falling into his arms after long days.

Stolen glances across the great hall.

Whispered promises he knew they'd have to break.

He didn't know how much time had passed as he read and remembered and wished for a life that was long gone. All he knew was that one moment, it was silent, and the next he heard whispers and heavy steps that were definitely growing closer.

Shit.

In a second, he was out of bed, his wand in his hand though his limbs were shaking, and he moved toward the door.

He watched in horror as the knob turned. How had he forgotten to lock the door?

It was too late to chastise himself because the door was creaking open and Regulus tried his hardest to look as intimidating as possible.

"Don't come any closer-" He started, hoping his voice wasn't as shaky as it sounded to him, when he realized he knew the intruder.

"James?"

((Like I said in the author's note, I'm struggling a bit with writing right now. This part took over a week and three different versions to finish, and I'm still not sure I like it, but it'll work.

This is a Reggie and James chapter, so no wolfstar D: 

Fingers crossed the next part will be out soon, but I can't make any promises rn.

<3 ))