Regulus Black (mummys_boy) wrote in snark_n_bark, @ 2008-06-19 16:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | complete, harry, regulus |
Memory Lane
Characters: Harry, Regulus
Summary: Drinking and reminiscing.
Harry knocked on Regulus' door, unsure of himself, but worried about his friend just the same. In the days since they had found out about Sirius' sacrifice, Harry had spoken with an endless parade of talking heads in the Floo. He hadn't had the nerve to pull out Sirius' will yet, and there was little to plan in the way of a funeral, as there was no body - again. Someone had mentioned a memorial services, but Harry didn't have the energy to plan one yet.
It was hard enough, keeping half an eye on Faelan, who kept disappearing, although he seemed to be staying close to the house. Padma had been by a few times, leaving off food for them that neither were eating. Gaius had been in and out; Harry thought Gaius was still trying to work and had been sleeping in the guest room since they'd received their letters. As a whole, the residents of Haven's Loft weren't coping very well, and Harry had decided that he not only needed the air, but that it might be a good idea to make sure Regulus was doing at least marginally better than they were.
Regulus hadn't been out much, indulging his urge to withdraw while he tried to process and accept everything that had happened; he had taken care of business, but beyond that, he had spent a great deal of time alone, lost in thought. He had thought about visiting people he knew were also grieving, but he wasn't ready to do that yet.
But when he heard the knock on his door, he wasn't inclined to turn whoever it was away. He wasn't feeling quite that antisocial, and so he went to the door, mustering a smile when he saw Harry standing on the threshold. "Hello, Harry. Should I ask how you are, or does it go without saying?"
"You'd think I would be all talked out, but Faelan has gone silent and I think Gaius has thrown himself into his work, so it's been quiet. Won't lie and say I'm fine, though." Harry peeked rather obviously past Regulus to see if his flat appeared normal or torn apart - an impulse Harry had been fighting off - hoping for an invitation inside. "Actually, I came to see how you were doing."
Regulus stood aside in a silent invitation for Harry to enter, and he closed the door behind them, then gestured to the sofa. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" He went to the liquor cabinet to prepare something for himself even if Harry didn't want anything. "I'm doing about as well as can be expected, I suppose," he said with a small shrug. "Coming to terms with it."
Glad one of us is, Harry thought with a frown. He doubted there would ever be a day when he could say he had come to terms with the dual blow of losing Sirius again and his parents in the same day for the second time in his life. There were some things Harry didn't think someone was supposed to get over, and this was one of them. "Whatever you're having, please. I haven't been pissed yet, but drinking always has tempting possibilities." He sat and shook his head, sending away the idea with the gesture. "Have you really started to accept it? Have any pointers for the rest of us?"
Regulus poured two generous glasses of whiskey for them both and went to the sofa, holding out one glass to Harry before taking a seat himself. "I said I'm coming to terms with it, not that I've started to accept it. Two different things to my mind. I'm not entirely certain I'll ever accept certain things about what happened." He took a sip of whiskey and released a quiet sigh. "I've wrapped my mind around the fact that it happened and he's gone. I haven't yet tackled the rest of it."
"Sorry. Wrong of me to hope, but everyone else has been taking it so badly- No one's even mentioned James and Lily." Harry could barely stand to think of them himself. His mum had left a few words on a note Hermione had been left at the veil - like it was an afterthought to her.
"They're gone too?" Regulus raised both eyebrows, surprised by that revelation. He hadn't thought to ask about them; he wouldn't say as much to Harry, but he had never particularly liked either of them for the way they had treated Severus, although Lily had been better than James by far, and he had paid as little attention to them as possible during his recent stay at Haven's Loft. "I'm sorry to hear it," he said, and he meant it. "You've had more of a loss than the rest of us, then." He paused, wanting to say something that would express his genuine sympathy over the blow Harry must be reeling from, but he wasn't sure what - if anything - wouldn't sound trite. "I really am sorry," he said at last. "If there's anything I can do, even if it's merely supplying excellent alcohol, let me know."
Harry lifted his glass and drank to show his appreciation for that particular suggestion. "I lived most of my life without them. Reckon I shouldn't put much stock in the formerly dead anymore. Sirius had just accepted them so easily, I thought I should, too." With a soft snort, Harry sank back into the soft cushions of Regulus' sofa. "'Course, Sirius was the king of the comebacks, so it makes sense that he'd not be thrown by ghosts coming to life. Took me ages to accept them, too. If I had done it sooner, maybe-"
Maybe I'd have gotten more than a few words on someone else's note from them.
"Maybe they would have stayed?" Regulus tilted his head questioningly. "I don't know. From what little I saw, they seemed wrapped up in Sirius and each other." Not that different from what I remember from school, actually, he thought. "I would have thought they would have made more of an effort to connect with their own son." He knocked back the rest of his drink and summoned the decanter for a refill. "I think we are all going to be stuck with a great many 'maybes' in the aftermath of this event."
Again, Harry was reminded to not speak of the fact that he could have sealed the veil daily if he'd known it had meant Sirius' life. The magical drain had become evident much faster the second time around; he couldn't be sure he could have kept patching over the cracks. The Order could have gained more time to come up with a solution, though, and that he didn't want Regulus to know. Harry was proud of Sirius for facing his fear, but it was diminished somewhat, knowing how rash Sirius had been. He didn't want to take the idea of the necessity of Sirius' sacrifice from his brother.
"Yeah, like maybe we should do something to get him back." Harry hadn't forgotten Faelan's face as he'd made that very request, expectant, as if Harry could produce Sirius out of thin air. It made him wonder if anyone realised exactly how wretched he felt, whenever he couldn't give someone what they wanted.
For a moment, Regulus felt a surge of hope, but he squashed it swiftly. "Right, and recreate the problem he died to repair." He sighed quietly and slumped back against the sofa. "I wish we could, but he would probably shout at us for being foolish and go right back in. Damned Gryffindors." He took a sip of his whiskey and grimaced. "You would never catch a Slytherin haring off like that. We aren't the noble, self-sacrificing type as a general rule. We like being in our skins too much to shed them voluntarily."
Snape's face came up in Harry's mind's eye, and he nodded to himself. The perpetually cranky Slytherin had spent a lifetime in a noble self-sacrifice, and Harry wouldn't forget it, no matter how much they'd both like him to. "Sirius always went into fights without much thought, too. He'd wear his best leathers and biggest knife and I'd follow him anywhere." He ran his hand over the back of his neck, the wry smile he gave not quite reaching his eyes. "Shouldn't have encouraged him, I guess."
Regulus gave a snort that was rather reminiscent of Severus. "He didn't need encouragement. He has been - was - always that way from childhood onward. You didn't do anything to influence him, so don't harbor any guilt or regrets on that point."
"On that point, then," he said with an incline of his head. "And he never dragged you into his adventures, not once?" Sirius was so there, so immediate in his mind, that having an image of him as a younger man would be a welcome respite to Harry's overworked mind.
"As a conspirator, no. As unwitting victim, yes," Regulus said dryly. "I was never brought into his adventures voluntarily. Then again, he wasn't voluntarily brought into mine." As the whiskey warmed him within, he thought back to his childhood, and he selected a few choice, amusing stories to share with Harry, tales that didn't end too badly for either him or Sirius and that didn't show them in the unfortunate light that some of his stories might have done.
Harry gave a few dry chortles at the idea of young Sirius dragging a protesting Regulus through the dusty attic and out the window onto waiting brooms for a night of underage drinking. It was good to hear stories of Sirius' youth, where speaking of Sirius in the past tense felt natural. "And just what kind of youthful antics did Slytherins get up to?"
"The kind that were difficult to pin on us," Regulus replied with a fleeting wicked smile. "I was bad enough on my own. With Severus, I was worse. We did things with potions you don't learn about in textbooks." His expression reflected the fond nostalgia he felt, and he laughed softly at the memories of some of his old antics. "We frequently used Sirius and his friends as test subjects. They weren't volunteers."
"From what I've seen, they deserved it." Harry poured himself another strong drink, finally feeling the alcohol work on muscles he hadn't realised were aching. He briefly wondered how long he could keep Regulus on memory lane and if he'd be able to Apparate back to the very empty Haven's Loft, but his friend launched into another story of a time when the marauders had it coming, and Harry couldn't help but listen with a small measure of smugness at his father's comeuppance.
Regulus wound down when he realized he had drained and refilled his glass again, and he was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol acutely. He set his glass aside and rolled his head to look at Harry. "Drinking and maudlin. We've been here before, I think. Do you want to stay over again this time?"
"I do, but-" Harry felt exhausted and sad, despite Regulus' best attempts at distracting him. The stories did make Harry feel more ready to face organizing a memorial service for his godfather, though, because he'd liked chasing away the last few weeks worth of memories, when Harry now knew Sirius must have been contemplating his own demise. A slumber without loneliness appealed to Harry, and Faelan had mentioned being away for the night before Harry left. They'd both taken to leaving notes everywhere, not wanting to let the other think he'd disappeared as Sirius had. "Yeah, all right, I'm free. You sure, though? I- I might steal all the covers." Or burrow.
"You're welcome to stay," Regulus replied, exerting the monumental effort to sit up and then stand up, wavering a little. "Give yourself a break from the house and the memories for one night."
"How did you-" Harry paused and rolled his eyes at himself. Regulus had lost his parents and experienced other kinds of losses over the years. He'd know how awful it was to ramble through a large, empty house full of ghosts. "C'mon." Inserting himself under Regulus' arm, Harry helped them both toward the bedroom, reaching his magic out to check that the wards were set along the way. Even half in the bag, his magic worked effortlessly for him, and Harry smiled sadly, wondering when the day would come when every spell wouldn't feel like a gift from Sirius.