[It's still difficult to even think about for too long, he's seen the Dark Lord pull thoughts from the heads of people who aren't even there. His fingers twist around each other, find a loose thread on the edge of the arm wraps and worry at it, and he looks at that instead of at Sirius.]

I-I don't know how to start. I don't know how...I don't know if you'll believe me and you need to believe me, Sirius.

[There's a lot in his eyes when he looks up again, a hunted expression of mistrust, because what reason would Sirius have to believe him? They've been on opposite sides since Regulus was eleven. But this is still Sirius, still his brother who stormed through a crowded pub to drag him home, a place he hates, because he'd known it was where Regulus needed to be.

He takes a breath and folds his hands tightly.]

I did almost die. Everyone...they all think I'm dead. Everyone else. They don't know what I've done. He doesn't know that I know, not yet. I'm sorry, I haven't needed to talk very much since the cave. [He can tell his words are running all over the place, and his hands would be flying with gestures too if he wasn't keeping them still.] He can make horcruxes. He has. I learned about one.