Hey! I'm actually posting something, I know, shocking. And no, it's not Art of Love/Life, although it is still HP. I'm undergoing massive writers block for that one at the moment, so it's going to stay that way for a little while. Super sorry.
This... I think this was originally supposed to be how Sirius is mature and stuff but he doesn't want to be, so he still acts like a kid and pranks people and stuff like that, and I wanted to put like his hatred of his parents because he was abused as a kid, and then it kinda turned into like love and family and brothers and it's a lot darker and sadder than I had anticipated. I'm very sorry about that, but also not really because I think this is what I wanted the whole time (aka what the story wanted to become because we all know the writer doesn't actually have any say in how her story ends up).
This can be seen as a companion story to Best of Friends, my Petunia and Lily sibling story, since Regulus showed up quite a bit in this story, but can also be seen separately. I dunno, maybe it's just the similar structure. Also, I kinda took liberty with the timing and stuff like that, so some of the events, especially in the latter part of the story, aren't completely canon (and neither is Uncle Alphard, but I needed a character and he presented himself as the best possible Black to use). So, anyway, enjoy!
"You'll understand when you're older."
Five years old.
Mummy takes Sirius out into London for the first time. Well, no, not the first time, but it is the first time he went around without flooing. He'd never known London was so big.
She keeps a tight grip on his hand, not pulling him, exactly, but definitely keeping him from running off. But Sirius didn't really mind, because "Look at what those muggles are wearing, Mummy!" and "Look! Look! What are those things on wheels, Mummy? They go fast! Whoosh!"
"Those are filthy muggle things, Sirius, because they don't have magic." Mummy's hand tightens around his. "Don't look, and don't point Sirius. We're better than them, and that's why they have to make things to make them think that they're the best. But magic is always better, right, Sirius?"
"Well, yes, I would rather ride my broomstick than something like that—and even floo is funner than that, I think, but it does seem rather fun, don't you think, Mummy? And shouldn't we have everything muggles have, because we're better? Especially if so many muggles have it."
Mummy stops, right there in the middle of the street, and turns around so that they are facing each other. She kneels down, a cruel look in her eyes, and Sirius is suddenly very scared, because he has seen that look before, and that is the look right before Mummy starts yelling.
"I'm just wondering, Mummy. The muggles do look happy." Sirius tries to explain, so that she doesn't get angry. Bad things happen when Mummy gets angry.
"That's because they're stupid and ignorant." Mummy's hand tightens again around his, and he sees her jaw tighten along with it. "Understand that? Muggles are stupid, and ignorant, and we don't need anything they create, because we're better. I need you to understand that, Sirius, because it's very important you remember. Blacks are a very old, very proud line of wizards, and we aren't anything like muggles."
"I…" Sirius hesitates, because no, he doesn't understand; if they are stupid and ignorant, then how come they have these wonderful contraptions? There is even one on two wheels, going faster than the others! "But, why? Why are they stupid and ignorant?" He opts to ask instead.
"You'll understand more when you're older. For now, it's enough that you just know this as a fact, okay?" Sirius nods, and Mummy stands up, adjusts her grip on his hand, and sets off down the street again, muttering under her breath all the way to the tiny little shop they had been walking to.
Seven years old.
Sirius goes with Regulus and Dad the first time Reg is allowed out into London. Regulus is not as excited about muggles as Sirius had been, but that might be because Sirius had already discussed, in great detail, everything he had seen in the muggle world. (He had also made sure to impress upon Regulus the fact that "Mummy says we're better than them, though.")
But it's like he sees the muggle world for the first time all over again, watching Reg take everything in with wide eyes. He'd forgotten how amazed he'd been by the cars, (he'd found out the word from Uncle Alphard) and street lamps, how funny the clothes were (had they never heard of robes?). And suddenly, Sirius doesn't remember why he'd thought the muggle world was boring, not as good or interesting as the wizarding world. Both worlds were brilliant; why couldn't they have both?
But he sees the thin line of Dad's mouth, the way his glaring eyes shift from muggle to muggle, as though daring one of them to prove that they were superior to him. Sirius remembers the sting of a belt on his back, the stern look on Dad's face whenever Sirius does something wrong: it isn't too different from how he looks now. So Sirius doesn't say anything, doesn't voice his opinion, and doesn't ask why, even though he really wants to.
Nine years old.
Sirius is old enough now that he can go outside on his own, as long as he stays within sight of the house (and that means he can be seen from the house, not that the house could be seen by him). But Sirius has seen some of the muggle boys along his street playing games and having fun, muggle fun, and he wants very much to join them.
It's been two years since Sirius first decided that muggles weren't as bad as Mum and Dad said they were, but his only source of information on muggles was Uncle Alphard, who is as pure-blooded as any Black. So Sirius decides that he might as well get some first-hand experience, and asks Uncle Alphard to take him somewhere in London.
They convince his parents to let him go, claiming Uncle Alphard just wants to show Sirius the way to the nearest wizarding shops, so that he can go around on his own and won't get lost.
Instead, Sirius plays with some of the boys down the street, far enough away from the house that no one can see him, going against his family's rules. The boys are friendly and accepting of what they definitely must have thought was a strange boy in strange clothes with no knowledge of even the most basic of things ("What game is this? Tag?"; "Telly? Who's Telly?"; or "You had to get what? Stitches? Doesn't that hurt, though?"). And Sirius goes home happier than he'd been in a long time.
But that happiness is soon gone, because Dad is there, glowering at him and Uncle Alphard.
Later, Sirius is curled up on Reg's bed, the two of them sitting there silently as they hear Dad yelling at his brother, and Uncle Alphard yelling back, yelling about purists and Slytherins, about "This damn family and damn motto," about muggles and wizards, about how everything Sirius had been taught was wrong, and Orion and Walburga were terrible parents, just as bad as their own, and "Sirius and Regulus ought to be brought up in a better family," yelling and yelling until finally Uncle Alphard announces that he is leaving, and the sound of a door slamming reverberates through the now-empty house.
"Sirius, what did you do wrong?" Little Regulus, near tears (even though Blacks don't cry).
"I was playing with some muggles." Sirius' voice is monotone, and he feels numb; he always feels numb after a proper beating, his senses all dulling as if doing so would stop the pain a bit.
"You were what?!" Regulus sounds disgusted and shocked, but there is also a tiny bit of interest in the tone of his voice, and he leans forward a bit.
Sirius knows that this is usually the point where the two brothers put their heads together and whisper about whatever they had done wrong, how it felt, sharing their experiences so that the other felt as though he was the one to do it in the first place (but without the pain of a beating). But he's still numb, and his mind is whirling with all the things Uncle Alphard had said, and it seems like his world has tipped upside-down, because how could everything he thought was right be wrong? How could his parents be wrong? How could any adult be wrong in anything? Don't they know everything?
"Were they really that terrible, then?" Reg whispers, taking Sirius' silence as unwillingness to relive a bad experience.
"They were fine. Fun." Sirius slips off the bed and leaves to his own room without another word.
Eleven years old.
Sirius and his new roommates—his friends, hopefully—dance around the room of their dormitory. He doesn't remember the last time he had felt this happy and free.
"We're going to be the best Gryffindors of the century!" James shouts triumphantly. James is definitely the most outgoing of them, always talking, excitable, jumping up and down. Sirius had liked him immediately.
"Honestly, I'm still shocked I'm here." Remus replies, a shabby and serious (haha, Sirius!) boy with a certain kindness to his face Sirius doesn't think he's ever seen before. He gets tired first and settles down on his bed, but his grin is just as wide as the rest of them.
"Me too. I never thought I'd be in Gryffindor." Peter, perhaps the quietest of their group of four, is watching the other two dancing boys very carefully, trying to mimc their movements. Sirius thinks it might be the cutest thing he's ever seen someone do, even if it is a little bit annoying.
"I did! And now that I'm here, I'm going to RULE this school!" James stops dancing, plants his feet firmly on the ground, and raises his fists into the air as if to show superiority.
"Well, tough, because Blacks are the best no matter what house they're in." Sirius informs him. "So you'll only be second best, if that." James frowns at that, and Sirius realises that he doesn't want to fight with James, not over who is going to rule the school. "But I suppose we can both rule the school together." He amends.
James whoops. "GRYFFINDOR!" They laugh and cheer with him, but eventually the day catches up to them and they all feel suddenly very tired.
"Let's get to bed." Sirius suggests. "Tomorrow, let's all go down to breakfast together. We can start conquering this school then." They laugh, and everyone climbs into their beds and pulls the curtains around (red! red curtains, not green!).
The sounds of the other boys in the room keeps Sirius up at first. He's not used to sharing a room, and it unnerves him a little, hearing other people breathe in the room he's in. The nervousness grows slowly in the quiet darkness, until Sirius feels this panicky sort of dread and a single thought hits him: "What will Mum and Dad say?"
He can imagine it, almost feel the hits and blows across his back, legs, anywhere that can be easily covered up if Mum or Dad wants him to feel the pain for a little longer. He can hear the screeching of Mum, terrible, terrible words about filthy Gryffindors, muggle-lovers, about Toujour Pur, about an entire line of Slytherins suddenly broken by one "Stupid, good-for-nothing boy!"
He is shaking by the time he can break his mind away from it all and come back to his own body. Mum's screeches are slowly drowned out by the light breathing (and snoring, from one of them: Sirius guesses Peter) and suddenly the sounds don't scare him or make him uneasy. He remembers that he's here, at Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor house dormitories. While he's here, listening to the breathing of his new, probably muggle-loving friends, his parents can't hurt him.
Sirius falls asleep with a smile on his face, and when a howler arrives the next day with his Mum's voice screeching just as he thought it would, he runs to open it as far away from the Great Hall as he can, and comes back with a grin on his face. (He and his friends start planning their first prank, then, and if he insisted it be on the Slytherins, well, he's with Gryffindors, and they're not going to argue.)
Twelve years old.
Sirius is back home for the first time since September first, and he is a changed man.
He is a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors are brave, and courageous, and fighters. He is not the weak young boy who curled up, trying to become as small as possible, while his parents beat him. He is not the young boy who would lie, on the bed with Reg, waiting for the pain to go away. Gryffindors don't run, and Gryffindors don't just take injustices. They fight against them.
It's probably the first time he's ever yelled at his parents, and it's just as awful as he had ever imagined it would be. It's two against one, and they're adults and he's still this little twelve year old boy, and he's yelling back at his parents, for Merlin's sake, but Sirius feels a thrill that he's never felt before, right up there next to his stabs of fear.
It's bravery, maybe, of the truly Gryffindor kind. It's pride, maybe, of one's self and not one's family, or house, because although this is supposed to be where he belongs, he knows now that he'll never belong in this family, but he belongs with all those other pureblood muggle-lovers, with his best friend James Potter, even with his Uncle Alphard, and, for once, Sirius isn't scared to admit it to his parent's faces.
But still, Sirius finds himself bleeding and bruised, curled up as always on Reg's bed, listening dully as his brother—ten years old and innocent, in this cruel, cruel house of Black—tries to cajole Kreacher into healing Sirius.
"It's alright, Reg." Sirius finally says. "I'll learn healing spells soon." Reg's face twists up.
"But I thought you weren't allowed to use magic outside of school?" He asks tentatively. Sirius shrugs.
"Then they'll put me on trial and everyone will find out how horrible they are." Sirius says it so matter-of-factly that Reg gives him an amused look before realising how much of that sentence he meant.
"What do you mean, how horrible they are?" Regulus scoffs. "They're our parents, they have every right to hit us when we're doing something wrong." He hesitates. "Why were they hitting you though, Siri?" It's the old nickname, one Regulus hasn't used in years, ever since Sirius had decided he was too old for it, and besides, "it's just one syllable Reg, it won't kill you to say it" that jolts Sirius out of his reverie.
He winces at the sudden onslaught of pain that had been kept at bay, but manages to sit up. Regulus needs to understand. He's old enough to understand, Sirius knows, because he had first understood it at Reg's age, and now is the time when the two Black children have to stick together.
And he can't leave Regulus alone in this house, thinking that everything that went on under its roof was right.
"Muggles, mostly." Sirius says wearily. "Muggles and school houses."
Regulus makes a face. "You're in Gryffindor, I remember. Why didn't you just get put into Slytherin like they wanted you to?"
"It wasn't exactly a choice, Reg, a hat is placed on your head and sorts you into the house it thinks you fit the most in." But somewhere in the back of Sirius' mind, he knows that it was a choice; that he had walked calmly and collectedly towards the hat, like a Black was supposed to, head held high and mighty; that he had looked at the Slytherin house and their haughty looks, just like his (and caught sight of the slightly sad look on Andromeda Black's face), then the Gryffindors, happy and encouraging and open and friendly; that he had thought of James, the friend he made on the train, who he had sat in the same boat as and had been shaken by Sirius when he saw the castle, the friend who claimed all Slytherins were bad, the friend who wanted so badly to be in Gryffindor and who would probably no longer be his friend if he wasn't in Gryffindor. And so when the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor, perhaps he hadn't been as shocked or put-out by its decision as he was supposed to be.
"You should've asked they switch you." Reg said solemnly. "You should've told them there was a mistake. 'Dromeda would have helped you out. They wouldn't've said no to a Black."
"They would have, because there was no mistake, Reg. I do fit in best with the Gryffindors. My best friends are Gryffindors, and they don't care too much that I'm a Black, because I'm not a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor, and that means I'm with them."
"You're with us too, Siri." The nickname again. Sirius looks sharply into Reg's eyes and sees the fear in them, the words Regulus hasn't been able to say, worries that had been plaguing his mind.
"And I am with you, Reg." Sirius says as gently as he can. "Just because I'm not a Slytherin or I have different opinions from Mum and Dad, doesn't mean I don't love you."
"And you love Mum and Dad too, right?" Regulus' eyes are so large and scared that Sirius has to agree.
"Yeah, sure. A little argument won't stop that." Except it has. Except Sirius doesn't love his parents, perhaps never has loved them, not the way he's learned real love can be. Not the way he loves Reg, or James, Remus, or even Peter.
There is silence after that, and neither of them mention the fact that this argument wasn't little, and that the last time an argument this big had broken out was also the last time they had ever seen or heard of Uncle Alphard.
(Sirius decides to sleep in Regulus' room that night, although they're a little too big to share the bed, but his breathing isn't like that of Sirius' roommates, and he has to shut his eyes and pretend to be asleep while his little brother quietly cries.)
Thirteen years old.
Regulus is at Hogwarts now. He's a Slytherin, but that's okay because even though almost all Slytherins are bad, Reg isn't, just like Andromeda isn't either.
Except, maybe it's not okay, because Reg won't look him in the face anymore. He had, at the train, met (nodded at, with a superior look that all Blacks had) James Potter, and then said an eager and childish goodbye to Sirius before tearing away from the older brother. He had, at the Sorting, had a proud smirk on his face while he waited for his name to be called, and had flashed a smile at Sirius briefly.
And then, he had been put into Slytherin, the proper house, and had promptly ceased to consider Sirius his brother.
Sirius finally corners Regulus almost a month into school, his friends helping him scare away his little first-year Slytherin friends so he can talk to him alone.
"What do you want, Sirius?" The tone is so snappy, so condescending, and so unlike Regulus that Sirius feels like he'd been slapped.
"I want to talk to you, that's all." Sirius replies, a frown on his face. "We haven't talked at all since—"
"Yeah, well, I have a reputation I have to uphold." Regulus shrugs. "Slytherins can't talk to Gryffindors."
"But brothers can talk to brothers, Reg, we live in the same house."
Regulus sniffs. "No we don't. And it's Regulus. Only my friends can call me Reg."
"I'm your brother!" Sirius practically roars. From the corner of his eye, he sees his friends flinch and shuffle a bit farther away.
"You're a disgrace!" Regulus snaps back. "I've heard all the stories about you—"
"You've heard all the stories from me, you ungrateful—"
"You said house didn't matter as much as Mum and Dad said!" Regulus' face is in a scowl, but the way his lips press together means he's upset. "You said I could be in any house and you wouldn't care! But that's not true! You hate the Slytherins, I know it now, you hate all of them, including me, and Mum and Dad!"
"That's not true!"
"Yes it is! Stop lying to me!"
"I don't hate you, you're my brother!"
"But you hate Mum and Dad, and they're your parents!"
"I don't… I don't hate Andromeda." Sirius offers weakly.
"But you've never liked Cissy. Or Bella."
"That's not because they're Slytherins."
"But the house we get into is based on where we fit in best, Sirius. By personality. You said that yourself."
"You've worn the Sorting Hat, Reg. You know that's not entirely true."
"Yes, yes I know!" Regulus shouts, and it's the angriest he's ever been. "I know, so why in the bloody hell did YOU GET PUT INTO GRYFFINDOR?!" Sirius takes a shocked step back, and Regulus' mouth twists up into a cruel smile, just like their mother's. "I knew it. You wanted to be put into Gryffindor. You've hated Mum and Dad for longer than you claim. I knew it." Regulus mumbles that last sentence, looking down at the floor, and walks away.
Sirius doesn't follow him, too shocked to even move, but he watches as Regulus slowly composes himself. By the time he turns the corner, his head is held up high again, his steps confident and precise.
It occurs to Sirius that Regulus has always been the more perfect son, learning from his older brother's numerous and grievous mistakes.
But Sirius had always thought that Regulus acted that way so that he didn't have to be beaten as much. Maybe he had thought wrong.
Fourteen years old.
It's almost Christmas break, and Sirius steals Regulus' owl (his had been taken from him before second year; he's been using James') to send a brief message to his parents that he'll be staying at Hogwarts this year. He's been staying at Hogwarts for the past four years, only going back home for the summers, and really, the owl is pretty unnecessary, but he wants to steal Regulus' owl, and he wants to feel the thrill of lying to his parents.
He's spending Christmas with the Potters.
He's met the Potters multiple times, obviously, and it's not the first time at their house (his parents don't let him out of the house most summers, but he does sneak out every-so-often to meet up with his friends), but it is the first time he's spending Christmas with them. He thinks it might be the final thing to make him officially James Potter's brother—well, almost official. It's not like the Potters are going to sign papers to adopt him or anything.
And it's going to be the best Christmas Sirius has ever been to. He and James have their pranks already lined up, and they're going to go out to the muggle village near Potter Manor, and play Quidditch everyday, even when it's snowing, and they're going to have snowball fights. There's also the annual New Years party the Potters throw, and Sirius has never attended, but there will be other pureblood families there, ones that don't agree with the Black way of thinking. Sirius has never met pureblood parents (aside from James') who hadn't been Black-approved. Remus and Peter might even come for the party, and James and Sirius are determined to convince them to come over sometime over the break, no matter how near the full moon is.
Sirius and James have also only recently decided to become animagi, and this Christmas break might be the best time to start.
So Sirius steals the bird (with the slight help of Remus, who admittedly is the one to capture the bird when it flies away from Sirius, and also the one to tie the letter to the owl because he won't come near Sirius, and also—okay, so Remus steals the bird, but it was for Sirius so that's basically the same thing.) and sends the letter, and pranks the Slytherins one more time, and announces to James on the train that he doesn't remember the last time he'd ever been this happy to be leaving Hogwarts. (That's because he's never been happy leaving Hogwarts.)
Fifteen years old.
If Sirius is being honest, he did it to annoy his parents.
Sirius does a lot of things to annoy his parents, of course, because he's not scared of them anymore and he's a strong, courageous Gryffindor who pranks the Slytherins despite the beatings he'll get when he's home and Regulus has reported like a soldier reports to his commander. But Sirius doesn't think he's ever done anything this bad before, and in hindsight, perhaps he should've realised his parents would be more than annoyed.
Okay, so if Sirius is being honest, he also did it because she (her name was Megan) was really fit. She was sixteen and tall and she wore these muggle clothes that hugged her curves, and—and this was the best part—she had a motorcycle.
So even if she had been a hot pureblood and not a muggle, he probably still would've fooled around with her for the first few weeks of summer. But she's a muggle, and really, he should have predicted how angry his parents would be.
And it's not like he loved her or anything, but it does anger him that his parents still think it's any of their business what he does. It does anger him that his parents still think they can influence his thoughts and actions, that they still expected him to obey them when they tell him not to hang around muggles. (He's still angry about that time with Uncle Alphard, when he was nine. Really he should have thought this through better.)
He's yelling back at his parents, though, because it's that or being beaten to the ground over and over again, and they're saying things about him being a disgrace and he's saying things about them being a disgrace to the Wizarding world, how Blacks have a bad name to everyone else not Slytherin, that he wishes he'd never been born a Black. And they're yelling that they agree, they wish he hadn't been born a Black either, because he is no Black, that he's no son of theirs, and—
And his mum has her wand out. Which, on a regular occasion, isn't bad—she always has her wand, and it isn't the first time she's taken out her wand to give him a proper beating, but one look in her eyes and he knows: this isn't going to be like any other time.
And so he's not surprised, really, when she shouts "Crucio!" but he is surprised by how much it hurts.
He's always been well acquainted with pain: his parents have beat him for as long as he can remember, and recently Sirius has been running with a werewolf once a month, so he's familiar with the feel of claws in his skin, too, but this is more pain than he's ever felt.
And then suddenly it's elevated, and Sirius is panting on the floor, trying to figure out why she stopped, why she's not killing him the way she obviously wants to—and sees Regulus standing at the doorway, speaking calmly, but confidently, to his parents.
"…just let him leave." Reg is saying. "We can disown him, like Uncle Alphard and Andromeda. I'll never call him my brother again, not that I usually do. You never have to call him your son. But you can't just kill him. You know you can't."
Walburga Black lowers her wand from her son's face, and leaves the room swiftly without another word (although Sirius knows from experience that she's burning a hole where his face was on the family tapestry). Orion calmly tells Sirius that he as five minutes to get out of his house, and then leaves the room too.
There's silence, Sirius still panting from the pain, still lingering there, staring at Regulus. Reg glowers back.
"Are you a bloody idiot?" Reg finally hisses. "I know you do all that stuff to get Mum and Dad riled up, but shagging a bloody muggle? Are you mad?"
Sirius drops his gaze.
"Was it worth it?" There is a slight mocking in the way he asks, reminiscent of the way they would whisper when they were younger, share their daring experiences. They are far from that close now.
Sirius doesn't answer, groaning softly instead and moving to sit up. He gropes around for his wand, hoping to at least alleviate the pain, close some of the cuts, school rules be damned—and Reg walks over, picks the wand up, and hands it to him silently. Sirius performs the charms under his breath, wincing at the familiar feeling of wounds healing, and tries to stand up on shaking limbs.
He fails the first time, and the second time, Regulus puts his hands under his arms and pulls him up.
"When will you learn?" Reg asks quietly, as they move across the room towards the stairs, and if Sirius had been any further, he would have missed it.
"I already have." Sirius whispers back, equally quiet. "You know I have, Reg. This isn't just some rebellious stage." Regulus sighs.
"I miss my brother sometimes." It's said in monotone, just stated as a fact, but Sirius flinches anyway.
"I miss when it was us against the world." Sirius replies, his voice shaking along with his limbs.
"Now it's you and Potter against the world, isn't it." His voice is still even, but there's a hint of jealousy in there. "He's your brother now, isn't he."
Sirius stops moving forward, and Regulus waits, arms still around him, supporting him. "You can still be my brother, Reg. I… I still love you, even if I don't love Mum and Dad, don't love their views."
"Their views are my views."
"You don't have to be their puppet, Reg, you're your own person." But the look in Regulus' eyes tell the truth: no, he isn't.
"Where will you go?" Reg asks as they make their way painstakingly up the stairs. Sirius remembers a time when they could climb the stairs on their hands and knees, propping each other up. They're too big for that now, and can only lean on the railing and each other (and Sirius can't remember the last time Regulus was beaten: it's always been Sirius).
"I dunno." Sirius's arms have stopped shaking, and his legs are stronger, but he stills leans on Regulus. He doesn't want Regulus to leave him, not yet. "Maybe Uncle Alphard—we've owled a couple times. Maybe the Potters. I don't know where else I can go."
"That girl's parents can't take you in?" Regulus mocks, his voice cold, and Sirius realises, not for the first time, that Regulus really is his parent's perfect son. He's even got that cruel Black heart.
"It was just a fling." Sirius scoffs. "We were just fooling around." Regulus' arms tighten around him, but out of anger, not compassion.
"Then why'd you—"
"You and I both know you won't agree with my reasons. You've never understood my reasons, Reg, so let's not go there." Sirius' voice has a dangerous edge to it, but there's also a sense of sadness; they used to understand each other perfectly (after all, who else has been at the receiving end of Walburga and Orion Black's blows?).
"Why not? How can you expect me to understand when all I know is that I'm losing my brother because he was being stupid."
"No, you're losing your brother because he and your parents don't agree on things. Because your parents are cruel people who beat their children, and have no morals. Because they applaud whenever they see that you-know-who has killed yet another muggle or muggle-born—"
"I'm losing my brother because he's a bloody Gryffindor." Regulus cuts off, bitter.
"You're losing your brother for more than that, Reg, and it's time you grew up and understood that. Just because it seemed to start when I got to Hogwarts doesn't mean this wouldn't have happened if I'd been in Slytherin."
They're quiet for a little after that, and Sirius packs his bags as quickly as he can with his hands still shaking every-so-often. Reg doesn't help.
"You could go to Andromeda." He suggests quietly, and Sirius knows that this is his way of saying that he understands, that even Blacks in Slytherin can disagree with their family, be disowned.
"I don't know where she is at the moment." Sirius replies quietly. Regulus nods, and helps Sirius gather his bags and take them downstairs and outside.
"How will you get there? Broom?" Regulus asks doubtfully, glancing along the street. It's daytime, and there are a couple people walking along down the street.
"Knightbus. I've heard about it." Sirius flashes his former brother a quick smile. "I'll be fine Reg. You just take care of yourself."
Regulus hesitates, then nods and goes back into the house without replying. Sirius sighs and calls the knightbus, telling the driver Uncle Alphard's street address. He doesn't think he can face James at the moment, he reasons, and anyway, if anyone will understand, it's Uncle Alphard.
Well, Uncle Alphard and Andromeda, and it's only luck really that they're both there, staring as Sirius' demeanour crumbles and his confident shoulders slump. And it's only because they understand that they don't even ask, just usher him in and make him a cup of tea, offering advice and a place to stay at least for the night.
Sixteen years old.
Sirius doesn't really know what triggers it. He's seen Regulus many times in the hallways, and they never acknowledge each other. And he knows that Regulus' friends are often in the upper years, as old or even older than Sirius, and he knows that the people Regulus hangs out with are going to be Death Eaters.
But maybe it's because it's nearing Sirius' seventeenth birthday, when he finally becomes a legal adult, or maybe it's because Regulus is smoking and swearing and laughing with his friends, even though Sirius thinks he's too young for that, or maybe (probably) because he catches sight of a tattoo inked on the left arm of one of the older students and he realises that this is serious, that Regulus really wants to do this. Maybe it's because he's been in denial for a long time, and this is when he finally admits defeat to his parents over this battle, because Regulus is going to be a Death Eater, and nothing Sirius can do will change that.
So he pulls Regulus away from the group as they're all heading back up to the castle, his hand gripping the left forearm of his brother, a fact that doesn't go unnoticed by either of them, especially when Sirius brusquely pushes up the sleeves. No mark.
"What are you doing?" Regulus retracts his hand sharply. "Don't touch me!"
"You have to stop what you're doing Reg." Sirius replies.
"Stop what—Sirius, what are you bloody talking about?"
"Hanging out with—with them? Death Eaters, or going to be?"
"Yes, and proud of it! And you have no say in who I hang out with Sirius!"
"I'm your brother—"
"No you're not, remember?" Regulus snaps, and Sirius falls suddenly silent, any words he was going to say (about muggles and Death Eaters, and killing and morals) get caught up in his throat. Sirius wonders briefly when he'll remember that Regulus has just as sharp a tongue and quick a temper as he has, and that Regulus isn't afraid to use it.
"I don't recall you ever being my brother." Regulus continues coldly, and something inside Sirius freezes, or shrivels up, or maybe just turns numb, but either way Sirius feels as cold as the snow around them. "And I don't recall you having anything to do with me, or the people I spend my time with."
"Really?" Sirius chokes out. "So you don't remember the fact that I grew up with you, that we slept and ate under the same roof? So you don't remember when we would curl up on your bed and I would tell you stories—"
"I don't remember you ever being my brother." Regulus' eyes are hard and angry. "I remember having a brother, once. And he would tell me stories and answer my questions, and the first time he went out into the muggle world, he told me about it, and every other time after that. But he also told me that muggles were inferior to us."
"Well I grew up; I'm more mature now—"
"No, that brother didn't grow up, that brother died. Because I don't remember you being my brother, Sirius, I remember you being a disgrace." Sirius makes a sound, but Regulus continues, ignoring him. "I remember you being a disappointment, a stupid, good-for-nothing boy, letting Mum and Dad down and forcing me to be the older son—"
"You, the older one?" Sirius barks a laugh. "Just because you're Mum and Dad's perfect little son does not mean you've ever been the older one. Who took the blame when you broke a plate and wouldn't allow Kreacher to punish himself? Me! Who took the beating when you were too shy to ask a question because of how Mum and Dad would react? Me! I'm the one Mum and Dad hit, I'm the one they yelled at, tortured—"
"Because you're—"
"No! You don't get to blame the beatings I took on me, like they did! And you don't get to say that you're the older one when all I've ever done was try to protect you!"
"You? Protect me?"
"Yes, you, you coward—"
"Oh yes, you're a Gryffindor, all brave and courageous—"
"Oh grow up! STOP BLAMING THIS ON ME BEING A GRYFFINDOR!"
"I'm not! Stop thinking I'm still a child you need to set right! I'm more grown up than you'll ever be! While you were off fooling around with some bird, or playing pranks with your stupid Gryffindor friends, who was off actually learning in school, so I could make the Black family proud? Me! And who got into Slytherin and had to build up the Black reputation from the ground because you were actually stupid enough to get into Gryffindor? Me! Who has to keep the family going now? Me, that's who! We're the only males in our generation Sirius, and now you've left our entire family on my shoulders, so I have to make sacrifices and decisions I shouldn't because we should've been able to split the responsibility!" Sirius opened his mouth angrily to respond, respond about how being a Death Eater wasn't a requirement, about how he isn't a puppet of their parents, but Regulus ploughs on forward.
"And don't think that you're the one protecting me, because you know as well as I that I've been protecting you for years now. I was the one who downplayed ever single one of your stupid pranks, every single relationship you ever had so that Mum and Dad wouldn't think you were as bad as you were, so that they'd think you might just be redeemable. I knew about that stupid muggle girl days before anyone else did but I didn't say anything because I knew how Mum would react, and I just hoped that you would finally grow up and stop messing around with life because you—you have no idea how close to death you were. And it was me—I saved your BLOODY LIFE!" There is a second of silence after that, the only sound Regulus' heavy breathing. "I saved your life because you were my brother." Regulus says quietly. "Because we used to be friends, and I used to love you. But you're not the boy I grew up with, Sirius. You're not my brother anymore—that boy is gone."
"That boy was never there, Reg. You never—I never—you had to have known I'd end up this way. After everything Mum and Dad did, I still didn't agree with them. I—I might as well have bloody told you that before I'd even gone to Hogwarts. And it's—it's not because I was young and naive, Regulus, it's because I'd grown up and I'd understood. When will you?"
"When will I? You're joking right? I've understood for longer than you have what your actions will do to the family—"
"I don't care about this bloody family! I'm not talking about being a bloody Black, I'm not talking about responsibilities, I'm talking about choice and belief! I'm talking about you being your own person, Reg, and not whoever Mum and Dad want you to be!"
"It's because of you that I don't have any other choice—"
"And I'm talking about the fact that everything Mum and Dad taught us was wrong, I'm talking about muggles being humans, having rights, and equal to wizards! I'm talking about you becoming a Death Eater! You—signing up to kill! You're not Bella, Reg, you can't even stand seeing Kreacher in pain! How can you possibly think you can kill a perfectly innocent man?"
"And how can you not see that what you think is right isn't true? Sirius, muggles—they're like an infection, they're filth—"
"'—and they're polluting our precious, pure, magical blood with their stupidity, their incompetence and inferiority?' Yeah, I've heard it all before, Regulus. Take those blindfolds off and actually see the world for what it truly is, will you?"
"How about you take your own advice? We're not brothers, Sirius. We don't agree on these things—maybe we never have. And I've stopped hoping you'd grow up to understand the truth—"
"But I haven't given up on you yet, Regulus, you're only fourteen—"
"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?! I grew up the moment you stopped being my older brother!"
"I never stopped being your older brother! I stopped agreeing with Mum and Dad, I stopped being their son, I stopped being a Black, but I NEVER stopped being your brother!"
"Well then maybe you should! Because I don't think you're my brother anymore! You have no control over my life, no influence over my opinions anymore. So don't call me your brother ever again. Do you understand? We're not brothers." With that, Regulus starts down the road, head held high, joining the rest of his friends.
Sirius doesn't really remember the next part very well, but he does remember Severus Snape.
Sirius can go on and on about how much he hates Snivellus (and vice-versa, probably), but he swears he's never hated him as much as this moment, because how dare—how dare—he bring up Regulus and shove him in his face? A part of Sirius knows that he's really angry at Regulus, for the argument and not understanding and not agreeing and then bloody telling his friends what had happened, even though they could probably have heard the fight from all the way in the castle, but that doesn't really matter, because Snape is here, and now, and smirking at him because he knows Sirius is angry and irrational.
But Sirius isn't irrational enough to pick a fight, because he remembers why he was alone in Hogsmeade in the first place: it's the full moon, and James and Peter offered to do their homework with Remus (although it was more like asking Remus to do their homework for them) while Sirius went to buy chocolate and candy and half of Zonko's for his recovery (and maybe he remembers this because he's angrily ripping apart a chocolate frog when Snape appears).
But then—"What, not going to bring your wand out? I knew James was the true Gryffindor between you two." And—okay, it's not actually that insulting, and any passerby would be confused at the jab, but Sirius understands, because he's still thinking about Regulus, his real brother, and he knows that Snape worded it that way so that you just had to switch out the two proper nouns in that sentence to reveal what had been plaguing the Black family for years.
"No, not going to bring my wand out because I'm better than you, and I really can't be bothered to exert myself." Sirius tries for casual and smug, but the triumphant look on Snape's face proves that he failed (or he's been spending more time with Regulus and is immune to the Black aura of confidence and condescendence).
"But I thought it was your friend Lupin who was doing the exertion tonight?"
To say Sirius has never heard sly comments about him and—well, anyone, male or female—would be a lie. To say that Sirius has never heard sly comments about him and Remus especially would equally be a lie (although Sirius has no idea why; of the three of them, James is by far the most attractive, not Remus), but the look in Snape's face shows that that's not what he's talking about.
The look in Snape's face shows that he knows.
And yes, Sirius probably should have gone along with the whole homosexual thing or said something about Snape getting on with someone (or not being able to, because really, that seems more likely), but instead, Sirius says, as casually as possible, "Yeah, he's got this special place he goes to, under the Whomping Willow. You press this certain knot on the tree and it freezes long enough for you to go down. Maybe you'll go meet him there instead of me."
And then, because Sirius is an idiot, and angry and irrational, Sirius makes eye-contact with Snape long enough to let him know he's telling the truth, and then walks away.
The walk doesn't do him any good, but when James frowns at Sirius and asks what happened at Hogsmeade, Sirius doesn't say anything, but chuckles darkly. He doesn't say anything and he doesn't say anything, until he can nearly imagine Snape being stupid enough to try to find Remus tonight and it seems to hit him, in a quick flurry of emotions that leaves him half laughing, half crying in panic as he tells James what he's done. The emotions freeze him, along with the look of shocked and incredulousness James gives him, and he suddenly finds himself running with James, stumbling back as his best friend manages to turn into a stag before his very eyes, too unstable and unfocused to make the change to animal himself. He vaguely sees Wormtail freeze the tree before scurrying off as quickly as he can to go find a teacher, but he's still standing there, as if he can't really believe this is happening, as James (in human form; even in a moment of crisis James will remember to transfigure back) hauls a thrashing Severus Snape out from the tree.
And Snape isn't hurt, but the wild, shocked look in his eyes shows that he had seen, he had seen the terrible turning of Remus into a werewolf, that something Sirius could have—should have—convinced him otherwise has become a cold, hard fact. A fact that nearly killed him.
And it's that thought, the thought that Sirius could have, for all intents and purposes, killed someone, no matter how hateful—that Sirius finds himself gasping an apology in Dumbledore's office, trying to conjure up some other emotion aside from shock, or dread, or hatred.
But he can't, because just hours ago Sirius was telling Regulus that he's not prepared to do the terrible things Death Eaters do, and yet here Sirius was, having almost killed someone as innocent (almost) as any of the other random muggles and muggle-borns—
Sirius had thought he was better than his family, better than his parents. But the look of disbelief and something very akin to loathing James gives him, and the look of betrayal Remus gives him the next day, or even the way Peter seems scared to look him in the eye makes him think that maybe he has a lot more of his parents than he originally thought.
Sirius hates himself far longer than Remus does, but not as long as James does.
Seventeen years old.
It's been months, and Remus is finally talking to him and Sirius has finally apologised enough and punished himself enough and done enough stupid things to last him a lifetime, but James won't even read the owls Sirius sends him, much less acknowledge him in any other way. Which—it hurts, it really does, because Sirius wasn't trying to hurt any of his friends, just Regulus and his friends, and yet everything seemed to backfire and now Sirius really doesn't have a brother anymore.
But Sirius and James aren't Sirius and Regulus, and Sirius knows that he and James will make up. He knows that they will talk it over and come to an understanding, because he and James do understand each other, and always have—the same way he and Regulus never did. So Sirius hands Remus the bottles of firewhisky he'd been drinking from, decides not to shag the next girl willing, and spends his time cornering James instead.
"Look—Prongs—Just hear me out." It takes Sirius quite a lot of said time, but eventually James huffs and crosses his arms and waits, avoiding eye contact. "Er. Right, thanks. Look, I'm sorry. I really, really am, and I'd say you have no idea how sorry I am but you probably do, because I almost never apologise and now—well I'm doing more than apologising, and I've been doing more than apologising for months now—but I really am. Sorry, I mean. It was a rubbish thing to do and I was being an idiot to do such a mad thing like that—and I'm not trying to justify it, Merlin knows I'm not, but I think I have to explain to you what happened that day. I—that is—Regulus—we got into a fight. And—I wasn't thinking straight—I mean, of course I wasn't thinking straight I'm not that terrible of a human being—although that's debatable now—anyway, what I'm saying is I was out of sorts and Snivellus was getting on my nerves and I did the absolute worst thing ever. And you showed you were the real Gryffindor, being brave and quick-thinking and amazing, saving Snape, and I'll forever be in your debt—although frankly, I think I've always been in your debt." Sirius laughs nervously, but James' face is unreadable. "Friends again?" Sirius tries, and then adds, in a spurt of Gryffindor courage, "I… I'm not really sure what I am without you." James' eyebrow raises, but he doesn't say anything. "I mean, you are my co-ruler, I can't really prank this school all by myself, especially with how great my prank ideas are." He tries to joke. James' frown grows.
"Is that all you think about? Pranking, ruling this school?" James shakes his head disbelievingly.
"Well, no, I mean, obviously—"
"We're not eleven anymore, Pads." James' voice is hard. "I don't care about ruling this school—you shouldn't, either. This school—Hogwarts is great, and I'll never forget it, and it's taught me almost everything I know in life—but that's all it is: a school. After Hogwarts, we're out into the real world.
"I know, Prongs, I know—"
"And in the real world, we can't just go breaking rules just because we feel like it or playing pranks on others. And I know that that's what we've been doing lately, and this is all as much my fault as it is yours, but it's high time you grew up, Sirius. We can't go pranking just for fun. We can't break rules made for our own safety, just because we think we're superior. We have to face the world soon—and I thought that you of all people would realise this, would have grown up after an incident like the one with Snape—"
"I have—"
"And yet you still suggest we play a prank. You've been drinking every weekend, sometimes more often than that, and don't think I don't know. You're off shagging a new girl every day, like they're not even people to you anymore—do you even remember their names?"
"Of course I do—"
"Sirius. I mean it. It's time to grow up."
"And I have. I grew up long before you did, Prongs. And trust me, it's not all it's cut out to be. I've been grown up—not an adult, but grown up—I've been grown up since I was thirteen, maybe even earlier, and all I've ever wanted since then was to grow back down. And I know—Merlin, I bloody know—that I shouldn't be, that I should just accept the facts of life and stop trying to be a child again, if I ever was one in the beginning. But the thing is, the real world sucks. It's terrible, and horrible, and I wish I'd never known that, and I know that's stupid but I love being in school because it makes me feel like I can still make mistakes. I can still learn. That I'm not a disowned, legal adult, but a student, a child still in school. I don't have to find a job while I'm in Hogwarts. I don't have to find my own flat to live in, do the housework and the cooking, all alone. I don't want to be an adult."
"But you have to be, Padfoot, no matter how badly you don't want to."
"I know. And I'm sorry. I just… I was hoping we'd never lose what we had, is all."
"And we won't—not really. I… I might have needed some time to forgive you, and to grow up a bit myself, and you needed some time to do that too, but once we get sorted out again, we'll still be mates. Best friends."
"But… we're not eleven anymore, like you said. It'll be different, now."
"I don't really think it will be. Just because we're adults doesn't mean we won't have fun. And the Marauders aren't just a bunch of pranksters—although we are notorious for that. We're mates, like I just said. Things won't really be all that different. Maybe we'll be a bit closer, and we'll all be more mature. But what is essentially you and essentially me—and Remus, and Peter—and what is essentially you and me, Prongs and Padfoot; I don't think that will change."
"Even… even though we're adults?" Sirius can't seem to wrap his head around it; it makes sense, he knows it does, and yet… he can't really see it happening.
He can see them, yelling at each other, arguing, or sitting silently next to each other, awkwardly, nothing to say or nothing to do; nothing like the raucous laughter that he's used to hearing as he gets ready for bed, or the pranks and the planning late at night, or even doing homework together and finding spells to help make the map, or become animagi, or whatever other projects they have in line.
"Of course. We'll just have mature fun. Fun at no one else's expense. Fun without bullying, without hurting anyone else. And we'll still have our projects, I mean, the map isn't nearly close to done, we're still working on charms to enlarge it and hopefully even work when we're not personally there to cast specific spells—"
"That isn't too childish to do?"
"We don't have to use it to prank people. And it's really difficult magic; I don't think any kid could even just do what we've done—including the whole animagi business."
Sirius pauses, absorbing it all. "So… we're good, then?" He clarifies.
"As long as you stop being an immature git."
"Done." Sirius replies immediately, and the two of them share identical grins. Sirius (as mad as this sounds) loves his grin, because he's examined it thoroughly before and concluded that he gets his smile from James (and maybe a little bit from Remus) and he likes to think that it proves that he and James really are brothers.
Two thoughts briefly flit through Sirius' mind, one smelling of Regulus and regret, but he grasps instead at the second one, nudging his brother—his all-but-in-blood brother—and teasing, "If this means you're not going to be an arrogant toerag anymore, d'you think Evans will go out with you now?"
James beams at the idea (he's sickeningly in love. Sirius wants to puke sometimes). "You think so? Should I—"
"Don't push it, mate." James pouts, but Sirius smiles, and James joins him soon after.
Eighteen years old.
It's over. They've done it—they've survived seven tortuous, laborious, and wonderful years at Hogwarts, and now those years are over, and this is the last time the Marauders will ever step foot in their school ever again (except, perhaps, for Moony, because everyone knows he'd be a brilliant teacher).
Sirius and his friends have finished this year—this era of their lives—with the best series of firework pranks Hogwarts has ever seen, and more celebratory drinks than was probably appropriate in front of teachers. But it doesn't matter, because they're not students anymore, and they're free from school, they're adults, and they're going to leave this school to take the world by a storm.
They're drunk and giddy by the time they make their way to Sirius' flat, but one of them—probably Moony, or Lily—has enough sense in them to check the time and remind everyone of the upcoming Order meeting in less than an hour. Sirius finds the potion he keeps in his bathroom to wash away any traces of alcohol in their systems, and after a few minutes, everyone is standing, sober, in his living room, the last warmth of happiness seeping from their bones as the truth of the matter weighs in on them.
"The Order of the Phoenix." James is the first to speak, and everyone nods.
"Our first meeting." Remus adds.
"Am I the only one who's feeling a bit… scared, about this?" Lily asks tentatively. "I mean, it's not like I don't want to do this, but…" She trails off, uncertain, but Sirius grins at her in understanding.
"Back at Hogwarts—in Hogwarts—we were excited for this." He says. "We were so ready to make a difference in the world, in this war. Now…"
"Now it's terrifying." Lily finishes.
And it is, it's terrifying, it's chilling and cold in his bones as he sits in his first Order meeting and listens to his superiors—some his teachers, not too long ago—talk about the war with startling detail and serious voices. This isn't just an angry duel in the hallway. This isn't a beating from the Black parents, shouting across the room with a newspaper lying between them. This isn't, even, arguing with Regulus about responsibility and rights, about killing and innocence.
This is war, and Sirius and his friends are horribly unprepared for it.
One of the older witches—Dorcas Meadows, if Sirius remembers correctly—talks quietly to Lily about possible hiding. Sirius hears mentions of laws against muggle-borns taking jobs, the ministry not being safe, of no muggle-born being completely safe, but then Alastor Moody is in front of him, and Sirius has his own problems to worry about.
They leave the meeting silently, thoughts heavy in their heads. Sirius can't stop hearing the suspicion in Moody's voice as he interrogates Sirius, trying to ensure that he really is on the Order's side, and not a spy. Remus had come briefly to Sirius' defence, but then Moody had called him out on being a werewolf and questioned his loyalty as well, until James and Lily had intervened and kept Sirius from attempting to kill his so-called ally. Sirius isn't seething anymore, of course, because Dumbledore wouldn't let them leave while Sirius was angry, but there's something heavy on his heart, this feeling of betrayal at the thought of people not trusting him, thinking his allegiance is with the Black family and not with what is right.
"Everything's going to change now." Peter says quietly, as they move towards the Apparating point.
"No." Sirius replies, after a short pause. "Not everything." Sirius grins at his four friends—his family. "No matter what happens in this war, I'll always be your brother, and you'll always be my family."
"Brothers." James echoes, and grasps Sirius' shoulder reassuringly. "Always."
So. Um. That ending was definitely not what I had in mind, I was planning on writing a slightly fluffy ending with James trying to get Lily to move in with him, and them falling over their own feet trying to figure out how to be adults, and then Sirius realising that he's actually the most prepared for life outside of school. But then my story changed from Sirius being mature and grown up to Sirius finding a new family, and this happened. (also, I stole a few lines from J.K.-and whoever writes the scripts of the movies-but since I also borrowed her character and her world, I figured I'd be okay.)
I've been thinking of writing a companion piece to this on Regulus and his change, but I don't know yet if I'm emotionally prepared for that yet. I could also add to this on after Sirius comes back from Azkaban, but I don't think I'm ready for that either so maybe I'll just leave this as is.
Tell me what you think! :D Reviews are very much welcome.