May Death Do Us Part | RB ✔︎

TWO ☆ BLACK

I scribble my findings in the notebook, shielding the words from nosy lookers. I've finally found the location of the second of Voldemort's many horcruxes. I sketch in my final few letters, blowing gently on the midnight-colored ink in order to help it dry faster. Once the glossy shine disappears over the blurred words, I close the leather bindings.

I risk a glance at my brother across the classroom, a part of me aching with the longing of standing by his side just as I used to.

But those days have long since died.

Sirius escaped our deranged mother. He's with the Potter's now.

And, despite wanting to leave with him, I tilted my chin up and forced out my most believable sense of pride and told him that I will die knowing I am loyal to our family. He left that night, taking my aloof sense of innocence with him.

From that moment on, I became the spare that our mother wanted me to be. I grew up with the prejudice beliefs she instilled, forcing myself to grow used to the bitter taste of the ignorant words she used too often. I followed in my father's footsteps, watching him grow prideful of me when Voldemort had given me the dark mark.

'It's a gift that you will accept gratefully, Regulus.' He had said.

And now, I force myself to stick with my parents plan. I will serve the Dark Lord beside them, but behind closed doors I will behead the beast in the body of a mortal. The Dark Lord will die for tearing away the only person who showed me kindness, Sirius.

He will pay for ripping away my source of safety.

But one day, Sirius will know the risks I've taken to fight in his name. He will know that I tried my hardest to get away, just like he did. And he will understand that I just want my brother back.

I drop my notebook into my bag, returning my attention to McGonagall as she swishes her wand around.

My eyes shoot open and I sit upright with a gasp, a bead of sweat dripping down my temple.

Sirius.

I scowl.

Even after returning from the cave, he was always so ignorant. Maybe he assumed I'd still choose the Dark Lord, but with our parents gone, I have no more pressure on my shoulders. I can work to take him down on my own, yet again.

Except, I can't.

I don't have that notebook anymore, the brown leather one with the pale green star in the center.

I'd given it to someone I trusted, but who?

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, wracking my brain and coming up empty handed again. I haven't got a clue as to who I would've given it to.

Evan was a die-hard Voldemort follower.

Barty was infatuated with Evan. He would've followed him to the depths of hell and gone with a smile.

Severus would've turned over the book to Voldemort the second he got his greasy hands on it.

So... who?

I push myself to stand, forcing my hand through the dark curls that dangle in front of my face. My gray sweatpants hang loosely on my hips, my bare feet touching the cool wooden floors.

I flick my eyes to the bunk beside mine, the outline of Blaise rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

I tug a hoodie over my head and make my way towards the door, shutting it quietly behind me. I tiptoe through the hall, the sound of crackling wood growing louder as I get closer and closer to the stairs.