Regulus watched from the shadows of the forest for nearly twenty minutes after Sirius arrived, wanting to make sure he was really alone, wanting to believe Sirius wouldn't betray him, but fifteen plus years of paranoia and looking over his shoulder were habits he wasn't inclined to break.
Finally, when he was sure that there was no one else there but Sirius, he stepped out of the cover of the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. He was probably hard to see at first, dressed all in black from head to toe. Black turtleneck and jeans and a black trenchcoat with a hood- it was, for Regulus, a remarkably well put together Muggle look. Then again, he'd had years to practice blending in better. And his fellow Death Eaters would hardly expect him to be looking like this.
Finally though, the moonlight shone down on him as he slowly, watchfully approached his brother, until they were close enough to make each other out in the bright light of the moon.
Regulus was definitely grown up. He was taller, and filled out from the slim boyish frame Sirius had last seen him with, although he'd never be overly muscular. He simply didn't have the genes for it. A neat goatee and mustache altered the once boyish features and the pale skin was touched by years in much sunnier climates then England.
"Well...," he said, stopping because for one moment, he was afraid his voice would crack. "Here we are then."