As far as Poppy was aware, the two Black brothers hated each other. So the current situation was rather... interesting.

"Reg! Reg! Wake up, you ruddy moron," A fourth-year Gryffindor growled at the pale, black-haired boy lying on a hospital bed. The boy's hands shook as he grabbed the fine white bed sheets, falling to his knees beside the cot. Poppy looked on, distraught. Several of the other patients were groaning at the boy's shouts. She contemplated sending the elder boy away, but stopped short, her brow furrowed in discomfort. No, she wouldn't. So instead she watched, noting how similar the boys were. Almost like looking into a mirror she mused, although the injured sibling was slighter than his playboy brother.

The playboy in question was none other than Sirius Black, self-proclaimed hater of all Slytherins. Yet, here he was, screaming at his brother and annoying all the other patients.

Poppy didn't honestly know what to think, the younger boy had merely been knocked off his broom in a quidditch match (after catching the snitch, and subsequently beating Ravenclaw 450 to 320). She had never, in all his many visits to the wing seen Sirius this worried, even when James came in looking like a bomb victim. Which was highly likely, considering the explosive nature of their pranks. But, she had a duty to her patients, and that was to keep a good, calm environment in the Hospital Wing to ensure the full recovery of her patients.

"Sirius. You're disrupting the others," hissed Poppy, striding towards the cot and pushing the boy away from the unconscious Slytherin. She looked down at Sirius and took pity on him,

"He should wake up soon, he's not that badly injured." Sirius' face lit up. He really loved his brother didn't he, she mused. He did show it in odd ways though. Regulus had gained name as a sort of good luck charm in the school, being the only Slytherin to not need hospitalization due to the Marauders. The worst the boy had suffered had been pale violet hair on his birthday.

Poppy was knocked out of her reverie as Regulus began to squirm on his bed. He sat up, touching his bandaged head. The young mediwitch was at his side in an instant, fussing over the boy.

"You fell off your broom. Don't worry, you won," Poppy told him, wondering if he was listening. She reached out to pull his hand away from the wrappings.

"..mmm...Siri?" Regulus groaned, oh never mind, he hadn't heard her. Regulus opened his bleary silver eyes... and saw only Poppy.

"Oh, I guess he wouldn't care about his dea-darling baby brother," The boy muttered resentfully.

Poppy watched him sadly. In the moment between Regulus waking up and his being able to see, Sirius had slipped from the room hissing 'sorry' between clenched teeth. His eyes nearly black with regret. His brother would never be his, not anymore. Poppy understood, the ties had long since been broken between the boys.

"Shhh...go to sleep now Regulus, you need rest."

OoO

She wondered if she should have been surprised when anonymously sent sweets that Regulus just so happened to love appeared every morning of his two-day long stay at the hospital wing. Or when a note that asked, 'Will you keep a secret?' appeared on her desk.

He was an odd one, wasn't he, that Black boy.