As it was end of term season and people were reverting home, the Grimmauld Place was more vivid than ever in the year. The lane leading the way to Grimmauld Place was full of chatters, shouts and hugs of the homecomings. Teeming street and running cars slightly deliberated people's curiosity about the old Manor standing on the left of the lane. It was always something wrong about the place. Sometimes people in robes of shocking colors would be seen in the lane. Old people with pointed hat and black dress robe hurrying their way along the street. Kids trundling with trunks and caged owls were natural phenomenon: usually seen in the beginning and end of vacations. Again, it was really abarrent that the house between eleven and thirteen was missing. I mean really 'missing'. But muggles of Grimmauld Place thought it might be some ordinary flaw made during the construction. So they believed the oddity to be a bemusing mistake. But the truth was concealed between eleven and thirteen. The house was Magically Enchanted so the muggles won't be able to see it.
It was a hot summer evening. The temperature had raised very much that year. July was on its way. August to come. Lawn turned grey and cloudless sky was bright red as the sun sunk on the western horizon.
'I BRED THIS FILTHY TRAITOR, SCUM, RUBBISH! I PAID HIM TO STUDY AT HOGWARTS! HOW COULD HE RUN AWAY? HOW HE COULD BETRAY? HOW HE COULD-?'
Mrs Black had been screaming since the previous night. She was exasperated with his elder son's, Sirius Orion Black, 16, departure from twelve Grimmauld Place, residence one of the ancient and poshest wizarding families of Britain. He ran away to the Potters. The Potter Boy, James, fellow Gryffindor, one of the Marauders, was his best friend. Sirius's bedroom was several floor above the basement. The wall was swelled up with Golden and Scarlet, Gryffindor banners: just opposite to the entire family, which was All-Slytherin. The room was handsome, as much as Sirius himself. His Bed was toppled over. Walls were plastered with many muggle motorbikes, several posters of bikini clad muggle girls. And there was another photo, alive, moving in the corner, of The Marauders. Lupin, Pettigrew, James and Sirius himself, smiling at the camera, chortling at some jokes only they knew. All his hanging possessions were glued with the Permanent Sticking Charm to prevent his parents from budging them. "I cannot see why he had to put this permanent sticking charm." Mrs Black bellowed as she cast spells after spells which might possibly help to get rid of those "detritus". In fact, She including Mr Black, Kreacher, the House Elf and numerous who had joint them, had been try since morning to cease all the sign of the Young Black from the house. They had already removed his name from the Family Tree. The deafening sound of breaking China and removal of debris had muffled the sound of radio screaming downstair. But one man was entirely untouched by the intra family combat, shut inside his room, hardly came out of his den. He was Regulus Arcturus Black, youngest son of Orion and Walburga Black. Mr and Mrs Black had always been proud of their youngest son. Between their two, Regulus was always their favourite. It's not only because Sirius was Gryffindor, just unlike the entire Blacks, but for his relentless dispute with the family theories. Especially 'Blood Purity'. Whereas Regulus never grudged against that. He had shown obedience toward whatever the family believed. He was, too, the paramount supporter of Blood Purity.
Regulus' bedroom was just a floor beneath Sirius'. There was deep scratch marks in the paintwork. It was pompous and neatly lettered by hand:
Do Not Enter
Without the Express Permission of
Regulus Arcturus Black
The room itself was not as big as Sirius'. Yet it flashed its grandeur. Walls were plastered with Silver and Green banners. The Curtains, which were drawn, obscuring the dead light, were made of silk: also dark green and silver. A table was edged to the corner which was heaved with spell books and notes. Blank and blue ink bottles standing beside them, quill lying on the book top. The bed was always made. He seemed to be well organised. At least way more than his brother. The showcase adjoining at chest drawer was filled with Trophies, signed Snitches and photographs. Few photographs were hanging in the rempart. One of them was with Slytherin Quidditch Team. He was sitting in the middle, where seekers usually sitted. Another consisted a group of boys with Slytherin's Head of House, Horace Slughorn. Regulus was just beside him, half smiling. He was not as handsome as his brother: he was skinnier and few inch taller, with shorter haircut than Sirius. Yet he had the same pointed face and black hair. On beside him, Slughorn stood broadly smiling to the camera. He was their Potion Master too. He enthusiastically collected brilliant pupils and formed his very own 'Slug Club'. Regulus was Slug Club's member too. He was indeed a very rarely gifted student with excellence in possibly everything. Slughorn just couldn't help his temptation to appreciate Regulus' talent and achieve him for ever. Around the corner stood a boy, stooped a bit to the bedside table, clutching The Daily Prophet on his hand. The bedside table was heaved with numerous papercuts. Then he spread the newspaper on his bed and started flipping through pages. He seemed to be looking for something with immense concern. He stopped on fourth page and pulled it apart from the newspaper. He slided down on the floor, jet black eyes glistening in the semi darkness. He ran his eyes through something that looked likely an interview. The headline ran 'New Sensation of Our Time: Lord Voldemort'. Underneath the headline, a photo of a bald and dead-white man with red eyes stared back at him. His eyes were Sneak like and he was twisting a Wand between his long white fingers. The boy fumbled his Wand and muttered, 'lumos!' and a sliver beam illuminated the page. As he read the whole interview, he torn that part of the newspaper apart and put it neatly on top of the mound of papers. He moved in his bed and sat down then looked around the dimly lit room. He called over the closed door, 'Kreacher!' With a crack! The House Elf appeared. The elf was smiling broadly to his master and bowed so low that his bat-like ears touched the ground. He spoke in his bullfrog's voice, 'Master has called Kreacher for his service. Kreacher must do whatever he is ordered.' The boy merely laughed and said, 'Okay okay. Straighten up please.' The elf straightened up and bestowed another smile.
'Kreacher, what is mum and dad going upstairs? Something on Sirius' room, I suppose?'
'Kreacher hates Master Sirius. He doesn't want to talk about bad boys.' the elf sightly barked then he reverted to his normal voice, 'Mistress and Master discarding master Sirius's belongings from his room. Master and Mistress have already removed his name from the pedigree.'
The boy raised his eyebrow but tried to change the subject, 'Oh I see. Have you had your launch, Kreacher?' Kreacher looked up to his master. His glassy tennis ball-like eye glittering in the darkness. 'Master always gives Kreacher his first priority. Yes, Kreacher had his launch.' The elf bowed again. The boy chortled and patted the elf on his shoulder. 'Kreacher, would you please lit the torches of the room? It's getting dark, isn't his?' the elf began to bang his head with the door frame and cried, 'Kreacher did mistake he should punish himself.' The boy pulled him by his towel and shouted, 'Stop it, Kreacher! It's alright. Do it now.' The elf was mopped his eyes, 'Kreacher feels sorry for his wrongdoing. May his master forgive him.' The boy bestowed a smile and the elf bowed. Then with a crack! he disappeared.
Meanwhile the torch was lit, the boy stood up in his feet and extinguished his Wand light, clicked his heel back the mirror and looked up. It was Regulus Black.
His mother's screams or deafening sound of the radio bursting from downstairs seemed not to affect him even a bit. He looked back to own eyes. Unfocused. All He saw was something red and eerie to replace his very known black ones.