A/N: This story has been written for the Golden Snitch Forum and the International Wizarding School Championship Forum. I do not own Harry Potter; it solely belongs to J.K. Rowling!

Challenges: 1. [Event] 1918-2018, 100 Years

2. The Grammar School Challenge

Prompt: Oct 17 Yugoslavia proclaims itself a republic - Write about Regulus Black.

Word Count: 543

No. 12 Grimmauld Place was the last place on earth that Sirius ever wanted to be. The grey and old building had never been home - if Sirius could say that. It was a place that held bad memories, instead of fond ones. It was a place where he felt suffocated and being tied down. No 12 Grimmauld Place had never been safe for him - it was his own, very personal hell.

Sirius roamed through the same dark corridors, his face grim as he moved even further into the house. He came to a halt in front of his old room and gently opened the door. Sirius smiled slightly when the familiar red and gold four-poster bed and Gryffindor Quidditch jersey, hanging on the wall, came into his view. It looked as if his mother had failed in her endeavours to get rid of the horrid and monstrous Gryffindor theme. He didn't move further into the room. He closed the door behind him and continued with his journey.

No sooner his eyes landed to the locked door across from his room. His heart started beating faster as he inched closer to it. It had been so many years that he'd thought about the boy who too was a prisoner here, along with Sirius. It had been too many years that Sirius had thought about Regulus, let alone talk about him.

Oh, Reggie! Sweet little Reggie! How could Sirius ever forgive himself for leaving his innocent brother all alone? How could he not blame himself for everything that had happened to his little brother? How could not see that the only thing Regulus wanted, was his elder brother to stand by his side? How could he not chastise for breaking his own promise and pushing Regulus away from him? How could Sirius not?

With shaky hands and deep breaths, Sirius gathered just enough courage to push open the door and peek inside. His eyes watered as soon as his eyes landed on the picture sitting beside. It was of Regulus' fifth birthday. The young Black was smiling widely at his big brother who was trying very hard to tie Regulus' bow-tie. The picture was taken secretly by their father who was just passing by the room with a camera in his hand.

That day was one of the best days of Sirius' life. He couldn't remember being that happy or carefree ever. Now, though, everything was lost. All the happiness and love, his family, his friends, were too far away from Sirius' reach and he couldn't do anything.

He gently took the photo frame in his hands, as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, and searched for his little brother in it. He desperately wished for that picture to come alive so that he could hug Reggie close to him, and keep him safe from all the bad things in the world.

Drops of tears escaped from his eyes and onto the picture. For the first time in twelve years, Sirius mourned. Not for himself, not for James and Lily, not for Harry, but for his little brother who paid for Sirius' mistakes. Sirius Black cried in the memory of Regulus Black - the boy who was long forgotten.