Also written for The Harry Potter Day Competition.
For The Battlefield Wars, I was given Regulus Black, and chose Walburga Black as my secondary character.
No specific warnings, but there are darker undertones to this story that makes it unsuitable for a young audience.
Regulus hadn't been allowed to see Sirius off at Platform 9 and 3/4. He didn't understand why. His father was at work and so he waited impatiently for his mother to come home. He didn't think he'd ever been so jealous of his brother, going off to school, learning magic, moving out. He was getting everything they'd always wanted, everything they'd whispered to each other when they were sharing secrets.
And Sirius was leaving Regulus behind. But he'd be there in a year, he thought, as he sat on the comfortable velvet settee in their living room. His foot was tapping incessantly against the floorboards as he glanced at the grandfather clock. Seven minutes past eleven. She would be back soon.
When the door eventually rattled as it was pushed in on its frame, Regulus jumped up and raced into the entrance hall. He was beaten by Kreacher, bowing low with his arms outstretched to take his Mistress' coat and hat. Well, it was hardly a fair race when Leave could apparate. His mother bustled in, a tall, proud woman with long, dark luscious locks. Wrinkles had begun to appear on her face, and she wore them with dignity.
"What's it like, mother? Is the Hogwarts Express like you always described?" Regulus said, looking fit to burst with excitement.
"Manners, Regulus. At least let me into the sitting room," she told her son, not unkindly as she took her long black coat off and dropped it into Kreacher's waiting arms.
He looked at the floor, reprimanded.
"Kreacher, coffee," Walburga ordered, and the overloaded House Elf ran off to comply as she made her way into the sitting room.
Regulus sat back down into the soft green of the settee he had occupied mere seconds ago. Walburga sat in a matching chair and looked at her son.
"You must learn to control yourself, Regulus, you didn't inherit the same spirit as your troublesome older brother, now, did you?" she said with a smile in her deep, sea blue eyes.
"No. Sorry, mother. I'll try harder," he told her, and from all his heart he meant it.
There was silence for a moment as Walburga waited for her coffee.
"Was it still like you remember, though?" Regulus prompted, desperate to learn more.
"It was exactly like I remember it," Walburga smiled. "The Platform looks exactly like it always has. You'll see it for yourself soon enough."
"In a year! That's a whole three hundred and sixty five days!" Regulus wailed, his thin lips pulling downwards in his distress.
"Three hundred and sixty six, actually. It's a leap year," said Walburga.
"That's even worse!" he continued to complain.
"Calm down, Regulus, it'll be here before you know it," she told him.
It was late that evening when the news came. They had just eaten dinner, and they were sat around the long mahogany table with its straight-backed chairs. The silverware was still waiting on the fine china plates in front of them while Walburga and Orion supped on an aged red wine. That was when the owl came. Regulus didn't know who owned the owl, but he thought he'd seen it before. He looked on curiously as Kreacher stretched up to open the window and allow the owl entrance.
"I'm sure that's Narcissa's owl," Walburga commented as the bird flew in and landed neatly in front of her.
Regulus awaited the news the letter would surely contain eagerly, his pale blue eyes wait.
Walburga began to read, and she reached the end of each line, her expression turned more and more sour.
She slammed the letter down on the table in front of her husband.
"Gryffindor!" she exclaimed, and Regulus hadn't heard so much distaste in three syllables.
Orion picked up the letter and soon, his expression matched his wife's. His grey eyes turned stone cold as he stared at the script.
"We always knew he was going to be a disappointment," he said, cool and calm through his anger.
"I should disown him right now! Never has anyone brought as much shame to the House of Black as that boy! He doesn't deserve the name!" Walburga was not calm. Her short temper had snapped as her pride was wounded. "I wish I'd never had him!"
"If Regulus had been born first, we wouldn't have needed two," Orion commented.
Sadness washed over the young boy as he took in the scene in front of him. Sirius was in Gryffindor. His brother's words when they'd argued, just two nights ago, were true. He'd just lost his brother forever.
"Regulus, I don't know what would have become of me if you weren't here," Walburga commented. "A mother can only take so much from her children." Her eyes were sad as she said this, and Regulus didn't like it. He didn't like the situation, he didn't like the anger. The sadness was too much.
"Don't worry, mother. I won't disappoint you," the young boy said. He hoped that promise would not be too hard to keep.