It's been nine months since Sirius left Grimmauld Place, leaving behind the toxic atmosphere of his family home and his beloved younger brother, Regulus.

The Great Hall was excited as students filled the long tables, waiting eagerly for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. A second-year Sirius Black sat at the Gryffindor table with his friends—James, Remus, and Peter. They chatted animatedly, catching up on their summer adventures and speculating who would be sorted into their house among the first-years.

Sirius glanced up at the stage, where his Head of house and Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall, stood next to the Sorting Hat perched on a stool. His thoughts drifted to his younger brother, Regulus, who he knows will start his first year at Hogwarts.

As the first-years lined up nervously, Sirius's heart raced. He couldn't help but hope Regulus would surprise everyone and join him in Gryffindor. The thought of his brother following the family tradition and ending up in Slytherin was disheartening.

"Minnie's starting," James whispered, nudging Sirius out of his daydreaming.

Minerva began calling out names from a list. One by one, students stepped forward, placed the Sorting Hat on their heads, and were sorted into their respective houses.

Finally, Minerva called, "Black, Regulus!"

Sirius held his breath as he watched his younger brother approach the stool. Regulus looked a bit taller than Sirius remembered, but there was a determination in his eyes that Sirius hadn't seen before. Minerva placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and the Hall fell silent as they awaited its decision.

"Well, well, what have we here?" the Sorting Hat's voice echoed in Regulus's mind. "A Black, eager to prove himself, yet torn by conflicting loyalties. You possess the bravery of a Gryffindor, no doubt, but also the cunning and ambition of a Slytherin."

Regulus clenched his fists in his lap, his heart pounding. He knew what he wanted, but fear gnawed at him—the fear of disappointing his family, especially his mother.

"I can see your potential in either house," the Sorting Hat continued. "But where do you feel you belong, young Regulus?"

Regulus closed his eyes, his thoughts racing. Half of him yearned to be close to Sirius and to embrace the bravery and friendship he had seen Sirius with his friends in Gryffindor. But the other half feared his mother's wrath, the shame of wandering from the family's expectations.

"Slytherin," Regulus whispered finally, almost as a plea. "Please, put me in Slytherin."

"As you wish," the Sorting Hat responded solemnly.

With a final rustle, the Sorting Hat declared, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted into cheers and applause as Regulus removed the hat. His face was a mixture of relief and apprehension. He went to the table, where students patted him on the back and welcomed him warmly. Among them was a seventh-year, Narcissa Black, who smiled and embraced her younger cousin.

Sirius watched from across the Hall, his heart sinking even as he forced a smile for his brother. He knew the weight of family expectations all too well, but he had hoped Regulus would choose differently.

As the Sorting Ceremony continued, Sirius couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment mixed with understanding. He knew Regulus wanted to be close to him, but fear and duty had pulled him in another direction. Their paths diverged once more, and Sirius could only hope that one day, Regulus would find the courage to choose his path, just as Sirius had done.

It's been three years since Regulus was sorted into Slytherin. Regulus frequently looked at Sirius from afar as they walked to their different classrooms because one was a fourth-year while the other was a fifth-year.

Regulus sat at a secluded table in the Hogwarts Library, eyes scanning the ancient runes textbook before him. He was deep in concentration when a murmur of voices reached his ears.

Curious, Regulus looked up and saw several students gossiping passionately nearby. He caught snippets of conversation—Gryffindors, bullying, Slytherin, courtyard—and his heart sank. Without hesitation, he closed his book and slipped out of his chair, heading toward the commotion.

As he rounded a corner, Regulus froze. In a secluded courtyard, he saw a group of Gryffindors surrounding a lone Slytherin. Those in the scene were his older brother, Sirius, and his friend James, who stood at the forefront, wands in hand, their faces twisted with mischief. Nearby was Remus, a Gryffindor Prefect, who stood there, watching silently.

Regulus's gut churned with horror as he realized what was happening. He had heard tales of Gryffindor's impulsive behavior, but seeing it in action, directed at a fellow Slytherin, filled him with disgust.

James and Sirius were casting spells at a fifth-year Severus Snape, who was upside down, his wand on the ground. Regulus's gaze darted to Remus, hoping for intervention, but Remus looked on with an unsettling neutrality.

Regulus's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't stand by and watch. Without thinking, he started running, wand at the ready.

"You idiots! Let go of Sev!" A feminine voice shouted.

Regulus saw a fifth-year Lily Evans pushing Sirius and James, which caused the spell on Severus to wear off, and he started to fall.

"Severus!" Regulus shouted, his voice echoing through the courtyard. James and Sirius turned, surprised to see him. For a moment, Regulus saw a flicker of guilt in Sirius's eyes, quickly masked by mischief.

"Molliare!" Regulus cried out, using a cushioning charm on Severus so the Slytherin wouldn't hit the ground and break his skull.

Lily turned, looking horrified and concerned. She approached Severus and was about to help him to his feet, but he stood up and looked at her, tears falling from his eyes and his face red with humiliation.

"Leave me alone, you filthy Mudblood!" Severus shouts and runs off in anger, sadness, and humiliation.

Lily recoiled as if slapped, her eyes brimming with tears from what Severus called her.

Regulus stood frozen between anger at James and Sirius and concern for Lily and Severus. He glanced back at his brother, Sirius, who met his gaze briefly—a moment captured with silent understanding and disappointment.

Before Regulus could think, he turned and ran after Severus, his heart heavy with worry. He caught glimpses of Severus ahead, his figure disappearing around corners and down staircases. Regulus pushed himself to run faster, determined to find Severus before it was too late.

Meanwhile, back in the courtyard, Sirius watched his brother disappear, a mix of emotions swirling inside him—guilt, confusion, and a growing rift of understanding that widened between them. He knew things had changed between them, perhaps irreversibly.

It's been a year since Sirius and James humiliated Severus in front of everyone at Hogwarts. This incident also strained Sirius and Regulus' brotherly relationship.

The halls of Hogwarts buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter of students returning from the winter holidays. The cold January air of 1977 seeped through the castle walls, adding a crispness to the atmosphere.

A now seventeen-year-old Sirius Black walked through the corridors, his mind preoccupied with the upcoming NEWTs.

As Sirius turned a corner, he overheard a group of students whispering. His heart sank when he caught a snippet of their conversation: "Did you hear? Regulus Black has the Dark Mark. He's a Death Eater now."

Sirius's blood ran cold. He pushed through the crowd, his heart pounding, until he spotted a now sixteen-year-old Regulus Black walking towards the Slytherin Common room. The sight of his younger brother, now marked as a servant of Lord Voldemort, filled him with a mix of anger and devastation.

"Regulus!" Sirius shouted, his voice echoing through the corridor.

Regulus stopped and turned, his expression unreadable. He met Sirius's gaze, a flicker of something—guilt, fear, defiance—passing through his eyes before he masked it with a stoic facade.

"Sirius," Regulus acknowledged, his voice calm but strained.

Sirius strode up to him, fury radiating from every pore. "Is it true?" he demanded, his voice trembling. "Do you have the Dark Mark?"

Regulus hesitated, then slowly rolled up his sleeve, revealing the unmistakable mark of a Death Eater etched into his skin. Sirius recoiled, a mixture of horror and heartbreak contorting his features.

"How could you?" Sirius spat, his voice breaking. "How could you let them do this to you? How could you let yourself become one of them?"

Regulus's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and pain. "I did what I had to do, Sirius. You don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly!" Sirius interrupted, his voice rising. "You let our parents, their twisted beliefs, and that monster Voldemort dictate your life. You've thrown away everything for their approval!"

Regulus's face hardened. "It's not that simple, Sirius. You don't know what it's like, the pressure, the expectations. At least this way, I have a purpose, a place where I belong."

"A place where you belong?" Sirius repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You belong with murderers and tyrants? You think that's a purpose worth having?"

Regulus's eyes narrowed. "And what about you, Sirius? Running off to join the Gryffindors, turning your back on your family? How is that any different?"

"It's different because I chose to be myself!" Sirius shouted, his anger boiling over. "I chose to stand against everything our family stands for because it's wrong, Regulus! It's evil!"

The corridor fell silent as students paused to watch the confrontation. Regulus looked around, his expression one of resignation. "This isn't the place for this, Sirius."

"No, it's not," Sirius agreed, his voice low but filled with intensity. "But it's where we are. And I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

Regulus met his brother's gaze one last time. His eyes filled with sorrow he couldn't voice. "I'm sorry, Sirius. But this is my path now."

Sirius felt a tear escape down his cheek as he watched his brother turn and walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the Slytherin Common room entrance. The realization that their brotherly bond was broken, perhaps beyond repair, settled heavily on his shoulders.

As he stood alone in the bustling corridor, Sirius felt rage and despair. He vowed to fight against Lord Voldemort and everything the Dark Mark represented, even if it meant standing against his brother.

It's been two years since Regulus joined Lord Voldemort and became a Death Eater, which broke Sirius and Regulus's brotherly relationship.

It was the summer of 1979, and an almost eighteen-year-old, Regulus Black, had recently graduated from Hogwarts.

Regulus sat in his dimly lit room at Grimmauld Place, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace. The shadows danced on the walls, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. He looked at the Dark Mark, and with each passing day, his doubts about serving Lord Voldemort grew stronger.

A knock on the door broke his trance. Regulus turned to see Kreacher, his family's house elf, bowing low.

"Master Regulus, Kreacher is here to serve," the elf intoned, his voice full of unwavering loyalty.

Regulus nodded, a small, distracted smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Kreacher. You've always been faithful."

Before he could say more, a loud crack echoed through the house. Regulus's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the sound of an Apparition—Lord Voldemort had arrived.

Moments later, the Dark Lord appeared in the doorway, his presence cold and oppressive. Regulus immediately rose to his feet, bowing deeply. "My Lord, how may I serve you?"

Lord Voldemort's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Regulus, I require using your house-elf, Kreacher, for an important task."

Regulus's heart raced. He wanted to please his master and prove his loyalty despite the gnawing doubts. "Of course, my Lord. Kreacher is at your disposal."

Lord Voldemort's thin lips curled into a sinister smile. "Excellent. Kreacher, come with me."

Kreacher obeyed without question, his eyes filled with fear and determination. Regulus watched them leave, a strange unease settling in his gut.

Hours turned into days, and Kreacher did not return. Regulus grew more anxious with each passing moment until Kreacher reappeared in Regulus's room, looking battered and frail one night.

"Kreacher!" Regulus exclaimed, rushing to the elf's side. "What happened to you?"

Kreacher's voice trembled as he recounted the brutal experience. "Master Regulus, the Dark Lord, took Kreacher to a hidden cave. He made Kreacher drink a potion that burned and tormented Kreacher. The Dark Lord left Kreacher to die, but Kreacher used his magic to return."

Regulus's blood ran cold. "What was in the cave, Kreacher? What did he make you guard?"

Kreacher's eyes filled with tears as he continued. "There was a locket, Master Regulus. Kreacher could feel its darkness, its power. The Dark Lord said it was precious to him."

Regulus's mind raced, pieces of a dark puzzle clicking into place. He had heard whispers of Voldemort's obsession with immortality, and now, the truth seemed horrifyingly clear. "A Horcrux," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "The locket is a Horcrux, a piece of his soul."

The revelation hit him like a blow. Voldemort's immortality, the deaths, the destruction—it all hinged on these dark artifacts. Regulus's doubts crystallized into a chilling certainty. He could no longer stand by and serve a monster who tore apart lives for his gain.

"Kreacher, listen to me carefully," Regulus said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions. "We must retrieve that locket and destroy it. It's the key to ending Voldemort's reign."

Kreacher looked up at Regulus, his eyes wide with determination. "Kreacher will do anything for Master Regulus."

Regulus felt a surge of gratitude and resolve. "Then we will act. We will end this nightmare, even if it costs us everything."

As they began to plan, Regulus knew the path ahead was full of danger. But he felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in years. He would fight against the darkness he had once embraced, and he might find redemption.

Several hours later, Regulus and Kreacher arrived at their destination. The two stared at the cave looming ominously against the dark sea, its entrance like a maw ready to swallow anyone who dared enter.

Regulus stood at its threshold, his resolve hardening with each heartbeat. Kreacher, his loyal house-elf, stood by his side, eyes wide with fear and determination.

"Kreacher, we must do this," Regulus said, his voice steady. "We have to end this nightmare."

Kreacher nodded, his loyalty to Regulus unwavering. Together, they stepped into the cave, the chill of the place seeping into their bones. Regulus led the way, his wand lighting the path as they navigated through the dark, twisting corridors.

At last, they reached the hidden chamber. The eerie green glow of the lake reflected off the walls, and in the center stood the island with the basin containing the Horcrux. Regulus felt a shiver of apprehension but pushed it aside. This was their only chance.

"Kreacher," Regulus began, pulling out the duplicate locket he had prepared, "this is the fake. When the potion is gone, you must replace the real locket with this one."

Kreacher took the fake locket with trembling hands, understanding the seriousness of the task. Regulus then wrote a note, placing it inside the duplicate locket, hoping that one day, Lord Voldemort would find it and know of his betrayal.

Regulus took a deep breath and gave the final order. "Now, Kreacher, you must guide me past the defenses."

With Kreacher's help, Regulus navigated the sinister protections Lord Voldemort had put in place. The journey was difficult, but finally, they stood before the basin. Regulus's heart pounded in his chest as he approached it.

"The potion must be drunk," Regulus said, his voice faltering slightly. "It's the only way to reach the locket."

"Master Regulus, no," Kreacher pleaded, tears welling up. "Let Kreacher do it."

"No, Kreacher," Regulus said firmly. "This is my task. When I'm done, you must take the locket and replace it with the fake. Then, escape and find a way to destroy the Horcrux."

Kreacher nodded, though his eyes were filled with sorrow. Regulus began to drink the potion, each gulp burning like fire. The pain was excruciating, but he continued, driven by the need to end Lord Voldemort's tyranny.

As Regulus consumed the last drop of potion, he collapsed, gasping for air, his body racked with agony. "Water," he croaked, his voice barely audible. "I need water."

Kreacher tried to help, but as Regulus reached for the lake, the Inferi rose, skeletal hands grasping at him, dragging him into the dark, icy depths. "Kreacher, do it now!" Regulus screamed, his voice echoing in the cave.

Kreacher obeyed his master's final command, switching the lockets with tears streaming down his face. With one last look at Regulus being pulled under by the Inferi, Kreacher used his magic to escape the cave, clutching the real locket tightly.

Regulus felt the cold embrace of the lake, his strength ebbing away. Darkness closed in, and he knew his time had come. But as he sank, he felt a strange sense of peace. He had done what was necessary.

Lady Magic and Father Time watched the young wizard's sacrifice in the realm beyond. Moved by his courage and the hardships he had faced, they decided to give him a second chance.

"Let him have a new beginning," Lady Magic said, her voice gentle.

"Indeed," Father Time agreed. "He deserves a better fate for his bravery."

With a wave of their hands, they sent Regulus twelve years into the future, to the summer of 1991.

Regulus awoke with a gasp, the taste of salt water still in his mouth. He found himself on the grassy edge of a serene lake, the sun warm on his face. Confused, he sat up, looking around at the unfamiliar yet strangely comforting surroundings.

"Where am I?" He whispered, bewildered, looking at his reflection in the water.

Regulus then lifts his head, seeing the sun shine upon him. His left arm covers his face. His eyebrows rise, and his eyes widen when he sees his Death Eater mark changed into a sword with flowers and a Snake wrapped around it.

Regulus stood there. A new sense of hope filled his heart. He figured he had been given another chance to live a life free from the shadows of his past.