A/N: This story is a submission for round one in the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I am Chaser One for the Ballycastle Bats. My prompt was to write about my Death Eater being at home. Final word count: 1 720 words.

Additional prompts:

1) (Quote) "When you pay attention to boredom it gets unbelievably interesting." –Jon Kabat-Zinn

2) (Dialogue) "I really do like the pants"

3) (Word) clock

This is a bit of an AU, meaning that the ending of my story is different to how it happened in canon. Please keep this in mind while reading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Mentions of previous self-harm, torture, and physical and mental abuse.

Boredom was, is, and always will be, a pain in the ass.

Regulus Arcturus Black was unbelievably bored. He had been sitting in the same position on his bed for at least two hours, just watching the minutes pass by on the strange Muggle contraption Sirius had introduced as a clock for his twelfth birthday; even though it looked nothing like any clock he'd ever seen before. He'd learnt how to work it a few weeks ago, when he began to find himself bored more and more often. Regulus thought of a passage he had read once when he was younger, that had said: 'When you pay attention to boredom it gets unbelievably interesting.' Whoever had written that was nothing more than a moronic liar. There was nothing remotely interesting about sitting still, not even being able to go downstairs to the library without being hounded by his mother for one thing or another.

He couldn't go talk to Sirius either. He couldn't even face him right now. It wasn't that he was mad, or even surprised, about what had happened, but he knew that Sirius would never understand his reasons, and if he ever found out– well, there'd be hell to pay. And then he'd never see his big brother again. Regulus knew that if Sirius discovered his secret, he'd leave the family home forever and go and live with that stupidly handsome friend of his that always winked at Regulus just to fluster him. The only reason that Sirius was still in this bloody horrible house was to be with Regulus, who didn't have the luxury of contemplating an escape; as soon as Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, Regulus' chances at a normal life had been ruined. His mother pushed and pushed and pushed until Regulus was the perfect son– unable to even find the courage to deny his mother anything, meaning that he couldn't leave the house as she had forbid him from it, the penalty being their father's life.

That was another thing that Regulus had to deal with that Sirius probably didn't know about. Well, most of it anyway. Their mother, who wasn't the kindest person to begin with, was terrifying when she was denied anything. That; Sirius already knew. What he didn't know was that mother had found out Regulus' greatest weakness– he cared too damn much about his loved ones. She exploited this fact by threatening to hurt or kill those he loved every time a situation came up where it seemed as if he might refuse to follow one of her commands. At first she had threatened to hurt him, but after the first few beatings, it wasn't so effective. That is, until she turned on Sirius.

She had received a courting request for him from an older Slytherin, which would activate when he was of age. If he went through with it, the other family would rise in the Pureblood ranks, where the Black name had shivers of fear and envy running down the backs of all people, "friend" or foe. The Blacks would benefit in other ways: a secure bloodline, gaining more money through the dowry, and even more political power than they already had. But Regulus hadn't wanted to marry her. She was ugly and downright cruel when she wanted to be, and she happened to be a she. He had refused the marriage straight up, and the beating he got from his mother was enough to keep him in bed for two days, but he hadn't given up, and it seemed as if Walburga had down. That should've set off the red lights in Regulus' head, but at the time he was still woefully naive.

That is, until Sirius stumbled into his room the next day, bleeding heavily from his back. He had no idea why Walburga had attacked him, so he went to Regulus to have him heal it up. Regulus was nearly sick when he realised what he was looking at. On Sirius' back were the words, how about now, Reggie?

She had used a curse that had been taught to him a few months prior, so he knew the counter-curse, which also made sure no scars were left behind. It was a common curse used in psychological torture. Either the person with the scars was marked terribly and then all evidence was removed so they believed they were going crazy, or the loved ones of the people with the scars had to live with the terrible things marked on the skin while the victims remained clueless. It was obvious what she'd used it for. She had done that just to torture him, and him alone, even though it was Sirius who got hurt in the end. She had ended up dropping the marriage offer though, finding the girl unsuitable when it was discovered she wasn't a virgin.

After that incident she had continued to pressure him with threats and continuous abuse against Sirius and their father until he had finally given in and didn't even try to resist her anymore. That was how Regulus had ended up in his current predicament.

Regulus sighed despondently as he stared down at his left forearm. The skin was dark and marred by one of the ugliest and most obvious symbols he'd ever laid eyes on. He seriously couldn't understand why the-bastard-who-shall-remain-nameless would choose such a noticeable mark to identify his followers with. So far, he hadn't found a way to cover it up, not with a glamour or even Muggle makeup. He was starting to feel desperate enough to just remove the skin from his arm at this point, but he wouldn't, if only for the fact that this hideous brand was the only thing assuring Sirius' safety at this point.

Regulus, above all other things, wished that he hadn't gotten so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed someone approaching his door. He was only alerted to someone else's presence when the door slammed open and his brother's voice rang out, barely enough time to yank his sleeve back down to his wrist, not enough time for Sirius to not to notice the desperate movement.

"Hey, Reg, how are these pants? It's Remus' birthday and- huh? What are you doing? You- you haven't been cutting again, have you? Regulus Black you will show me your wrists this instant." Regulus flinched away from Sirius' inquiring hands, but his older brother's- ironically enough- feline reflexes allowed him to lunge forward and grab his hands in an iron grip, said pants flying through the air and landing in a heap at the floor at the end of the bed. No matter how much Regulus struggled and pleaded with his brother, trying to reassure him that he hadn't been hurting himself, Sirius eventually managed to pull up his sleeve again- before launching himself to the other side of the room; not even the sounds of his younger brother crying out in dismay, or the sight of his whole, suddenly tiny body shaking violently with arms outstretched enough to bring him back to Regulus' side. Sirius' face became blotchy when red and white battled to be the dominant colour covering it and his knuckles turned white with the tight grip he had on his long hair. Breathing ragged and eyes starting to blur, Sirius focused completely on the bloody Dark Mark that had somehow found place on his baby brother's painfully skinny arm.

Regulus blubbered as he tried to explain to Sirius what had happened and how it had come about, but suddenly his mark started to burn, as if someone were pressing red hot coals into the flesh under his skin and he was unable to do anything but scream as the pain spread throughout his whole body the more he tried to talk. It seemed like that was enough to snap Sirius out of his betray-filled horror enough to run back over to Regulus, hands hovering over the writhing body, unsure as to what he should do in this situation to help his precious little brother. He ended up just sitting beside him on the bed, arms gently encircling the smaller body, cradling him to his chest while he tried to sooth him by making soft noises and shushing him- though he felt as if Padfoot had influenced him do that more than his own brain. Sirius ran his fingers gently through his brother's hair as his bawling subsided and he was reduced to a sniffling mess, supporting his sore arm delicately.

Through his brilliant powers of observation, Sirius was able to deduce that somehow, speaking about the mark caused pain, as that was the only thing that Sirius could imagine Regulus would have been trying to say. His stomach churned as he thought of the way that Regulus had been weeping before the apparent pain started, and his arms tightened subconsciously when he was reminded by the stiffening of his brother's body that it was him who had caused it.

His reaction had been completely ridiculous, now that he thought about it. Why would Regulus, his baby brother, who got stepped on at school for covering little animals with his hands, who would cuddle up with their psychotic owl every time it hurt itself even though he knew he would get scratched in the end, who volunteered in the children's section of St Mungo's during the holidays and sang songs to the sick kids, who patched up Sirius every single bloody time he'd done something stupid, hell who learned how to heal just for Sirius, join the Dark willingly? He felt like a giant fool, and his little brother had suffered for his stupidity. He sighed and pulled Regulus closer to his chest while he reached for his wand- ignoring the small whimper of fear that Regulus tried to muffle by burying his head in Sirius' shoulder, but how could you ignore something like that- and transfiguring a stray piece of cloth into a handkerchief and using it to dab at Regulus' face before handing it to the now huffing boy. Sirius was unable to stop his own tears from falling as he laughed and hugged his brother even tighter when a small and watery voice drifted up to his ears.

"I really do like the pants, Siri. I'm sure Remus will love how you look in them."