July, 1976
On the topmost landing of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black lay sprawled on his bed with his eyes closed listening to his newly purchased vinyl. He and Moony had spent the morning perusing a Muggle record shop when he had happened across the latest edition to his already expansive collection of vinyls. Normally they would spend the remainder of the afternoon wandering the streets of London, smoking and messing around playing pranks, but on this occasion Sirius had hurried back to his parent's home to listen to his new record. Moony had opted to go home as he was not welcome in the Black household for obvious reasons.
He'd heard from reputable sources (James and Marlene) that the band he was listening to was the best new punk rock band to come from the States, so naturally Sirius had to have it. He had had to wait until the summer holidays to buy the album, but it had been worth the wait.
Sirius lay there, letting the music of the Ramones wash over him and carry him far away…
"Hey ho, let's go! hey ho, let's go!
Hey ho, let's go! hey ho, let's go!
They're forming in straight line
They're going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds"
"Could you please turn that down? I can hear it all the way down in the kitchen."
Sirius opened his eyes and saw his brother standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, looking as serious as ever. Sirius turned onto his side and started rolling cigarettes. Ignoring the request he asked, "Do you like it? Just bought it today."
"What is it?" asked Regulus stepping further into the room.
"The Ramones," he replied, offering his brother a roll-up which he declined, then popped it into his own mouth. "They're new, I quite like it so far."
"It just sounds like a rabble to me," muttered Regulus.
"Don't be such a nob, Reg - it's good music," he chastised.
Regulus spluttered in indignation, "I'm not a- a what?"
"A nob, Reg, it means you're a snob," replied Sirius pointedly. "Get your head out of your arse and actually listen to the record. Let the magic of the music flow through you and carry you away."
"What sort of magical properties does it have? I thought it was a Muggle record?" asked Regulus.
Sirius rolled his eyes, "It's not real magic mate, not like ours – it's so much deeper than that. Look, just listen to the lyrics and tell me how it makes you feel."
The vinyl player crackled as it played the next track, the lead singer's bleating voice shouting the lyrics…
"Beat on the brat
Beat on the brat
Beat on the brat with a baseball bat"
"What do you think?" Sirius implored.
Regulus shrugged, "Not much. He's not a very good singer, is he?"
Sirius smirked at his brother, "Not a good singer, eh? Okay, give me a sec."
He slid off of his bed and began to sort through the large collection of LPs sitting in a neat pile next to the vinyl player – the only thing in the room that wasn't carelessly discarded. He pulled another LP from its sleeve and put it in the vinyl player, placing the thin needle on the records surface with the delicate precision of a Healer. The record spun and crackled for a few moments before an accompaniment of piano, drums, bass and rhythm guitars exploded from the speakers.
Sirius turned to his brother and shouted over the music, "Just humour me – close your eyes and listen for a moment. Tell me what you think."
Regulus sighed and complied with the request, the rock-pop music blaring in his ears. Suddenly a sublime voice began to sing…
"I, I wish I could swim
Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing, nothing will keep us together
We can beat them, Forever and ever
Oh, we can be heroes, just for one day…"
The man's dramatic, powdery, British-accented baritone swelled with the music. Regulus felt goosebumps explode across his arms and a pleasant shiver run up his spine. He opened his eyes and saw Sirius grinning widely at him.
"You like it?" he asked keenly and Regulus nodded. Sirius patted him approvingly on the back, "What did I tell you? Music man, it's got its own magic – it can carry you away, transport you to new worlds. You can keep your Celestina Warbeck, I'll take Bowie over her any day."
"Okay, I'll admit that he's quite good for a Muggle. Where did you get it? Did James give it to you?" asked Regulus.
Sirius flopped back down on the bed and took another draw from his roll-up, "Muggle London. Moony and I were in this morning."
Regulus groaned, "I wouldn't mention that to Mother and Father if they ask where you were. Muggle London, Sirius? With Remus into the bargain, it's like you're deliberately trying to cause a row."
"What's the big deal?" he shrugged. "I'm already a Muggle-loving disappointment to them, where I shop and who with isn't going to change their opinion of me."
Regulus looked around his brother's bedroom with disdain - Sirius had always liked all things Muggle-related; their music, their fashion, their inventions, their women. His bedroom was a homage to all things Muggle that he admired; every inch of the formal, Victorian wallpaper was hidden under pictures of motorcycles, fighter jets and bikini-clad women. Posters of his favourite bands and musicians - Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin adorned his walls. Regulus eyed the people in the posters on the walls with unease, their eyes fixed and unmoving. He thought they were creepy. Merlin, even the tobacco he was smoking was from a Muggle shop. While Sirius' rebellious streak could at times be endearing, more often than not Regulus found his brother's behaviour worrisome. He smoothed down the dishevelled Gryffindor-clad quilt spread at the bottom of the bed before sitting down, looking at his big brother with a mixture of exacerbation and unease.
"I know you don't care what they think, but I am trying to help you avoid another confrontation with them," he implored, sounding agitated.
Sirius smiled warmly at his brother, "I appreciate you trying to look out for me Reg, but as the elder sibling it's my job to worry for the both of us. Don't stress about it kid, I can handle them."
"Look, I know you don't care, but Mother and Father have made it clear that this (he waved a hand at Sirius' Muggle enshrined bedroom) bothers them," he replied sternly. "They are our parents Sirius, we should accord them with the respect that they deserve."
Sirius' smile fell and he snorted, "I already accord them with the respect that they deserve – none."
"You don't mean that," said Regulus looking aghast.
"I do," replied Sirius flatly. "Look how they treat us, Reg - they dictate everything we say and do, and the minute we step out of line we get a healthy dose of Cruciatus – it's like living in a fucking dictatorship around here."
"That's only because you're constantly breaking the rules!" argued Regulus, his voice rising. "If you only followed the rules you wouldn't get into trouble!"
"Parents don't torture their kids just for breaking a few rules, Regulus – that isn't normal!" snapped Sirius.
Regulus' pale face flushed red with anger, "You've always been a troublemaker, even when we were little you were always getting into fights. I think you actually enjoy getting into trouble. Breaking the rules gets you more attention."
Sirius gave a hollow laugh, "You've only cottoned on to that now? Why do you think James and I get on so well?"
"You say you don't want to be anyone's lapdog, but you'll happily run after James Potter whenever you're called upon," he drawled.
"I do not!" protested Sirius rising to his feet.
"Do too!" argued Regulus. "I bet he was the one who told you to buy this album, wasn't he?"
Sirius made a dismissive gesture but said nothing. Regulus looked smug, "So it's only fine to do as your told so long as it's James telling you what to do."
"No, I just don't listen to anything Mum and Dad have to say because they talk so much shit," spat Sirius, his face turning the same shade of red as his brother's.
"Just because you don't agree with it doesn't mean it's shit, Sirius!" argued Regulus.
Sirius paced the room agitatedly, "How can you stand there and stick up for them? After everything they've done."
Regulus didn't answer. Instead he tried changing the subject, "Please Sirius, I don't want you to get hurt. Just turn the music down a little bit before they get back and hear it."
Sirius' anger dissipated as quickly as it had arisen at the despondent expression on his brother's face. His shoulders sagged and he said softly, "Look, I don't want to fight with you, Reg. You're the only person in this house who doesn't hate me."
"I couldn't hate you, Sirius," admitted Regulus quietly. "You just…piss me off sometimes."
Sirius laughed, "Swearing now, are we? You're spending too much time in Snivellus' company."
"Don't call him that," he warned, his expression hardening.
Sirius rolled his eyes, "Sure, whatever. But you better not stop talking to me. Because if you stopped talking to me, who else is going to dance with me?"
"Dance?" scoffed Regulus. "To this?"
"Absolutely! Come on," he grabbed Regulus' hand and pulled him onto the bed. Regulus struggled to keep his balance while Sirius jumped up and down, "Come on Reg, dance!"
"This isn't dancing!" he protested trying hard not to smile as his brother bounced about the bed from side to side, twisting and turning.
"Who cares? It's fun! Or are you afraid to have fun?" teased Sirius.
He clicked his fingers and the music got louder. He began to jump-dance more erratically, causing Regulus to laugh hard at the ridiculous sight and begin to jump in tandem. The music, grand and heroic, swelled around them as they laughed, jumping and dancing, so loud that the fine hairs on the back of their arms vibrated to the bass of the music.
They didn't hear the front door open, or the heavy footsteps that ascended the stairs to the topmost floor of the house. It was only when the music stopped abruptly that the brothers spun around towards the looming figure by the bedroom door. Orion Black stood with his wand gripped so tightly in one hand that his knuckles were white. His cold, grey eyes fell on his sons – Regulus, frozen in panic. Sirius, an expression of bored indifference, but his rapidly beating heart betrayed his fear.
"Father," said Regulus meekly stepping down off of the bed, hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry Father, I-"
"Regulus, I expected better from you," said Orion softly. "Sirius on the other hand, your animalistic behaviour comes as no surprise to anyone."
"I wouldn't want to let you down, Father," said Sirius lightly, hopping off of the bed and stepping in front of Regulus to create a barrier between his brother and father – if anyone was going to be on the receiving end of their father's wrath it would be him. There may have only been a couple years between them, but in Sirius' eyes, Regulus was still his baby brother.
"What's the matter, Father? Don't you like my music?" asked Sirius. "It's a Muggle musician, by the way. Quite talented in my opinion. Better than Celestina by a long shot."
Orion sneered at Sirius, "You really are shameless, aren't you? A pathetic excuse for a wizard – if I hadn't seen your mother bare you myself, I'd swear you were no son of mine."
Sirius took this insult as a mark of pride and lifted his chin defiantly, "You say that like being your son is something to be proud of."
Smack.
The side of Sirius' face exploded in pain as his father's large hand slapped him hard.
"Father, don't!" said Regulus stepping forward. Sirius tasted blood in his mouth. He gave a hollow laugh.
"A slap? Really? Such a Muggle thing to do. How unbecoming of you."
This time it was a fist that connected with the side of his face and Sirius stumbled backwards, feeling dizzy from the sheer force of the punch. Despite the anger behind the strike, his father's face remained impassive – they had played this game many times before. But Regulus stepped in front of Sirius now, looking up at his father like it was a battle between David and Goliath. His father's magic hummed around him, making the air crackle like electricity. It smelled awful, putrid and dangerous.
"Please," pleaded Regulus in a small, shaking voice. "Father. We'll turn the music off, we won't disturb you again, I promise. It was a mistake. Please, just-ARGH!"
Regulus' words were cut off by his blood-curdling scream and he sank to his knees, clutching his face, eyes bulging out of his head. His father stood over him, wand pointed at Regulus with an expression of abject fury.
"Silence boy, I will deal with you later," he snapped. Sirius strode forward then and punched his father in the face.
"No! You'll deal with me! Leave him out of this," he said roughly. He looked at his younger brother, his eyes a mixture of fear and resignation and reassurance.
"Get out of here," he whispered to him, then he screamed collapsing to the floor, writhing in agony. Orion stood over his twisting form, wand in hand. Regulus stood frozen in fear, watching his brother jolt violently on the floor, his screams echoing throughout the entire house.
"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" screamed Sirius, and Regulus felt an invisible force pull him from the bedroom and throw him out into the corridor. He stumbled and fell, then quickly scrambled back to the bedroom, but the door slammed shut in his face.
"Sirius!" cried Regulus over his brother's screams, banging at kicking at the door but it wouldn't budge. "Sirius, let me in! Please!"
Even if Sirius had changed his mind and accepted his brother's offer of help, he was too far gone now to take it – the exquisite pain of the Cruciatus Curse was all-consuming now. It was invading every nerve in his body, every blood vessel, it spread from inside his bones to the tips of his fingers, he was lost in it. The only tangible thought in his head was Bowie's voice singing to him over and over again…
We're nothing, and nothing will help us
We're nothing, and nothing will help us
We're nothing, and nothing will help us
We're nothing, and nothing will help us
The words rang in his ears as unconsciousness mercifully swallowed him whole into beautiful nothingness, quicker and easier than falling asleep.