Regulus' legs had never felt so heavy than when he walked up to the sorting hat. McGonagall was stood near it, her eyes giving nothing away as she watched the youngest Black take his place. The question was on everyone's mind who wasn't muggleborn- would he take his rightful place and sit by Narcissa and her boyfriend, Lucius, who sat with proud smiles on their faces, polished head boy and girl badges on their jumpers and green and silver ties around their necks? Or would he be sat by some Ravenclaws he didn't know- or worse, Hufflepuffs? Or, worst of all- in his mother's eyes at least- would he sit next to a proud, smiling Sirius and his three friends? The house had been silent the night before, the floorboards sighing and the walls whispering. His mother had told him that being sorted into Gryffindor would be the worst thing to happen to the family. One son being a disgrace to the family was bad enough- but both? Regulus had sat silently, his legs crossed beneath him as he had listened to his mother talk about his duties to the family, his responsibilities. His father had sat silent and still, swirling his drink in his glass, lost.

Would he still have his mother's love come morning? Orion, his father, was strict, yes- and cruel, sometimes. But his mother- oh, his mother's love was sweeter than honey- but you can't get honey without bees, and Sirius let the bees sting him and let them die around him. Regulus was still planting flowers, feeding the angry bees and only wincing when one stung him.

He knew what he would say if the Sorting Hat was taking requests. Slytherin, of course. It's what his family would want.

Not all of your family, a little voice that sounded a lot like Sirius' whispered in his mind. It had been there since Sirius had left for school, and continued when Sirius came home in the summer and slept in his own bed all night, telling Regulus to piss off when he had a nightmare.

Regulus' eyes drifted over to his brother. He looked… strange. He was leaning forward, not paying attention to the drum-roll the one with glasses was doing or the words the pale one was whispering in his ear. Before the hat slipped over his eyes, Regulus saw his brother open his mouth as though he were about to talk, his eyes fixed on Regulus.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the youngest Black," the Sorting Hat said in Regulus'… ear? Mind? He wasn't sure.

"Just two years ago I was sorting your brother. Took me a while. I asked him why he didn't want to go into Slytherin, and it took him a while telling me why. He was a Gryffindor, through and through, either way. Maybe I'll take just as long with you."

Please don't, Regulus thought.

"Well, I wouldn't. But you're hiding something away, aren't you? There's a corner of your mind I can't get into, boy. Your family's doing, I'm sure. But no matter. You Blacks are a strange family- all so alike yet all so different. Yes, boy- even your brother is like them- though he doesn't like to think it."

This isn't about my brother.

"Fair enough. Let's see... clever, yes- and brave too. Do you want to join your brother in Gryffindor?"

Anywhere else, he thought. Please, not there.

"Shame. It might do you good. Anyway... hard-working? Well, you have the potential. We'll see. But ambition too... and lots of cunning.

Where? Regulus thought.

"SLYTHERIN!"

McGonagall took off the hat. Regulus stared at the Great Hall. He looked to his brother, who was as white as a sheet. He put his head in his hands. The weird friend of his began to pat his back, and Sirius flinched away.

Regulus wanted to run over to him, hug him, tell him Gryffindor was his place, not Regulus'. He may be okay with the family hating him- but Regulus wasn't. He listened to his parents and aunts and uncles- and now cousins, too- drone on about how important the family was, how upholding the Blacks' honour was more important than individual feelings. They had since Sirius and Regulus were allowed to sit on the adults' table at dinner. But at the end of the night, when they would walk up the stairs together, Sirius would whisper 'what a load of bullshit.' And Regulus would nod- not out of agreement, but because he didn't particularly like conflict. Raising one's voice hurt one's throat.

Regulus stood up shakily, and the Slytherin burst into delayed cheering.

"We got Black back, we got Black back!" they chanted. Regulus nodded towards them as he walked down the steps on jelly-like legs. Lucius and Narcissa gestured him over.

"Well done, Regulus," Narcissa said in his ear as they pulled him in between them. "Good job you didn't follow him."

She gestured to the Gryffindor table, where Sirius had lifted up his head and was shaking it slightly at James. As Dumbledore tried to shush the Slytherin table, Regulus forced a smile.

"Yeah," he said. "That would be terrible."

The feast was over in what felt like a lifetime of trying both to catch and avoid Sirius' eye. Regulus barely ate.

Narcissa circled a finger and thumb around his wrist.

"Eat more in the morning, little sparrow," she said. "You're skin and bones."

Regulus made a noise, and squeezed past some people, his eyes fixed on Sirius.

"Hey!" Lucius called. "You need to be showed the Common Room!"

"I know where it is!" Regulus called back. He flitted between people, rushing over to the door Sirius was leaving from.

"Hey! Excuse me- sorry- sorry- oh, god, sorry- Sirius!"

His brother didn't hear him. He carried on up the stairs with his friends.

Regulus ducked, and bull-dozed through people. There were a few unhappy people. Regulus ignored him. His hand closed around his brother's wrist, and he pulled him into a side-corridor- but not before Sirius grabbed his friend with glasses and dragged him with him.

Sirius' face set in stone when he saw him. As his messy-haired friend looked from Regulus to Sirius and back and forth, the brothers' eyes never left each other.

"Regulus," Sirius said. Regulus didn't regret the Sorting Hat's choice. He wasn't a Gryffindor, he knew that. He wasn't brave.

"I'm sorry," Regulus said. "I'm sorry I'm a Slytherin."

Sirius didn't speak for a long time- so long that Regulus was a little worried. When he spoke, his voice was faint.

"The hat gave you time to think."

Regulus nodded.

"So you could have been in Gryffindor?"

Regulus nodded.

"And you refused?"

Regulus nodded. Sirius' face turned to stone.

"When… when the Hat was taking so long, I thought… I thought you were battling for Gryffindor- I had to ask, had to beg. The Sorting Hat said Slytherin, and I said no. I thought it could be us, you know? Us, then mum and dad as an afterthought. I thought you were brave enough for Gryffindor."

"I'm not," Regulus said, taking his brother's hand. "I'm not you. I'm not my brother. I'm me. And I'm no Gryffindor. Please, Sirius- please understand. Please don't hate me for not being you."

"Don't hate you? I'll do as I please." Sirius snatched away his hand, and rubbed it on his robe as though it was soiled by Regulus' touch. "I knew you're more like them than I am, but I..." he trailed off, his eyes drifting away from Regulus' face. They snapped back sharply.

"We may come from the same parents," he said. "But you are not my brother."

It was though Sirius had stabbed him. He lifted a hand to his heart, and clenched his jumper in his fist, barely able to breathe.

"Come on, James," Sirius said.

"I'll meet you up there." James smiled at Sirius, pushing his glasses up his nose. Sirius looked at Regulus, and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

Sirius' footfalls faded. James appraised Regulus through his glasses.

"You okay?" he asked eventually. Regulus nodded stiffly.

"No, you're not. Ignore Sirius. He'll come around."

He looked down, nodding again. He focused on the cracks in the stone as hot tears began to gather in his eyes. He heard James sigh quietly before he knelt on one knee before him.

"What's wrong?" James said.

He kept his eyes determinedly on the floor, not wanting to see James' face as the tears spilled onto his cheeks.

"I'm not good at anything," he said, trying to keep his shaking voice steady.

"What do you mean?"

"I... try too hard to be a good son and that makes me a bad brother... I try to be a good brother and that makes me a bad son... I wasn't Slytherin enough for the Hat's choice to be immediate but I wasn't brave enough to choose Gryffindor." His hands were beginning to shake.

"Hey," James softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're good at some things, I'll bet. You'd make a good Seeker. I'm a Chaser, but I can tell."

"Quidditch?" Regulus started to laugh and cry at the same time. "Quidditch? I have no idea how to play- and I can't be on the team for another year-"

"Perfect," James said. "That leaves a year for me to train you."

Regulus frowned at the floor., wiping at his cheeks. "But… I'm a Slytherin."

"And you're also Sirius' brother. Whether he likes it or not." James patted his shoulder, and stood up. "And I don't normally like Slytherins, but you're nice enough. You remind me of a younger and slightly less tearful Sirius, believe it or not."

Oh, Regulus believed it. Many a time had he seen Sirius sobbing after a shouting match with their parents. But before Regulus could go in to comfort his brother, Sirius' face would twist sourly, and he would use his wand to fling the door shut.

He lifted his eyes from the floor, looking up at James solemnly. His hazel eyes were surprisingly kind.

"Do you know your way to the Common Room?" James asked, and he smiled weakly.

"I'm a Black," he said, wiping at his cheeks. "The directions were bedtime stories."

James laughed, and began walking away.

"You'd do well in any of your house, you know," he called over his shoulder as he began climbing stairs.

"Thanks." Regulus smiled, stronger than before. He began walking to the Common Room, knowing his way around the castle before he had even seen most of it.