𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍 | Regulus Black x Reader

XI. Balance

The chill that wracked through your body had you twitching your head in a shudder every couple of minutes. Sirius was pacing around the kitchen, murmuring heatedly to himself, and you suspected that he would try and head to the Burrow – or what was left of it, to fetch Harry any second now.

You had insisted on making your way over by floo the moment the news had sunk in, but the look in Sirius' eyes had you pausing in the doorway. It would be unfair to leave him alone, and you knew that he was worried about your safety as well.

No use getting caught in any crossfire, Harry could look out for himself.

Darting your eyes to look at the clock, you realized that only half an hour had passed since Harry's patronus delivered the news. Wringing your hands in your lap, you resisted the urge to run upstairs and collapse into a heap on your bed. Regulus was eerily silent, and you were sure he was trying to process the news as well.

Harry's message had been ominous, and you were sure he purposely did so because it was something Sirius wasn't meant to know. The odds were not looking promising for you in that case.

The sudden muted crackling of the floo network has you snapping your head up, eyes immediately catching sight of a disheveled Harry. Sirius is pouncing on the disoriented boy before you can even rise from your seat, quickly assessing him for any visible injuries.

"I'm alright. It's okay." Harry weakly brushes away Sirius' clammy fingers, sending a reassuring nod at the older man. It takes only a few more moments of fussing before the man is backing off, stepping to the side so that Harry can approach you.

You are enveloped in warmth before you can even register anything, your body moving on its own accord. The force of your movements have the chair wobbling unsteadily, and even Harry seems surprised by your swift gesticulations.

Pulling back, you're hesitant to ask, "Is everyone okay?" Your voice was shaky, while your chest was rising and falling harshly from anxiety.

Harry nods, but a shadow falls over his eyes and he drops his head onto your shoulder. Pursing your lips in confusion, you see Sirius tilt his head in worry at the both of you. It takes a few more moments before Harry slowly steps away from you, spinning around to look at his Godfather nervously.

"Sirius, is it alright if we have some privacy?" Harry asked, throat bobbing as he tried to process the events of the day. "Just for a bit, I mean."

The man nods and to your relief, gives you both a look of understanding. "Of course. I'll be in my room." With more certainty and elegance than you've ever seen displayed by the man, he is quick to dismiss himself, practically floating up the staircase.

Turning your head aside, you slowly amble back to your spot at the dinner table. Harry trails after you, head inclined to stare at his muddy shoes as he rounds the table to sit across from you.

"Harry, what did you mean? What does he know?" Your impatience is palpable as your words hang heavy in the air.

Twisting his fingers, eyes intent on avoiding yours, you are barely able to decipher his words, "It's Regulus. He knows about his portrait."

"What?! How?" You credit yourself for not immediately breaking down into tears or falling into a fit of laughter, but you were very much on the verge of slamming your face onto the wood in front of you to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Before Harry can respond, you whip your head to look over your shoulder to make sure Sirius was still upstairs. Reaching into your pocket, you pull Regulus' portrait out, desperately needing something to ground you.

Harry doesn't even blink at your movements, instead rubbing at his temples to try and connect his brain to his mouth. Regulus is staring up at you in worry, but you weren't sure if it was for your sake or for his.