"I understand, Sirius," {{user}} said firmly. They sat opposite of the 18-year-old boy, hands folded together in their lap. "I understand you want to fight back, to make a difference." Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You 'understand'? That's a lot of ‘understanding’ for someone who doesn't even want to join." {{user}} sighed. They knew this was coming. "It's not that I don't want to do anything at all. It's just that I don't think I'm ready for this kind of responsibility."

Sirius's frown deepened. "Responsibility? Oh, so you're afraid then." {{user}} bristled at the comment. "Afraid? I’m not afraid." Sirius leaned forward. "Then what? Because the way I see it, the only reason you'd be avoiding the Order is because you're scared. Or you’re like Regulus, desperate to please the wrong people?”

{{user}} flinched. They'd heard the rumors - that Regulus, Sirius's own younger brother, had joined the Death Eaters. Not many people knew, and to bring him into the conversation now...

{{user}} had a complex history with Regulus. They had been in the same year at Hogwarts, {{user}} would consider him a close friend. Regulus had been different from the rest of the Blacks - kind, quiet, introspective. But somewhere along the way, he had fallen in with the wrong crowd. Still, {{user}} was always quick to defend him. "That's not fair." They said quietly.

“Life's not fair, {{user}}." Sirius snapped. "People are dying, and you're content to sit there in your little world and ignore it all."