A/N. This fic was posted here a while back, but I took it down as I didn't have time for it. But now, I've resurrected it, and am revising it. Updates may be slow or sporadic as I'm off to uni in October, but I'll try to get chapters out as quickly as I can

Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's. Don't sue

Prologue - The birthday

Mr. and Mrs. Black had for many years run a household of which any self-respecting witch and wizard would be proud. Both from respectable pure-blood families, they had made a respectable pure-blood marriage, and given birth to two respectable pure-blood sons. Until the fifth birthday of the elder of the two, everything had seemed perfect. But when Mr. Black awoke on that day, he had no idea of what lay in store for him.

"Everybody up!" Mrs. Black shouted up the stairs of their home at number 12 Grimmauld Place. There were two large bangs as two bedroom doors on the next floor were opened, and two small dark-haired boys appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Sirius, Regulus, I want you dressed and down here in two minutes to start the breakfast." Both boys turned sharply and ran back into their rooms. Two minutes later, they appeared at the kitchen door, the younger still yawning sleepily.

"Regulus, stop that. I want you to set the table". The younger boy closed his mouth immediately and walked obediently to the table.

"And Sirius, you can do the toast."

"But it's my birthday" the older boy complained feebly.

"Yes, and you can celebrate that by not burning the bread." The boy gave a small sigh and lifted a loaf of bread off the table. Mrs. Black pointed her wand at the grill, which lit immediately.

The older of the two boys, Sirius, carefully put two slices of bread on the grill pan. This was his job every morning, and had been for the past two years. He knew exactly how long to leave the bread before turning - his father could become surprisingly angry over such a little thing as slightly under- or over-cooked toast. He paused to run his hand through his hair. It was quite long, falling almost into his eyes, but he liked it that way. His father thought that it made him look like a "nancy-boy", and demanded at every opportunity that Sirius have it cut. Yet somehow, Sirius had so far avoided it, by being inexplicably busy every time his parents were going to a wizarding barbers. He was safe in the knowledge that his mother would never cut it herself - that would never do for a Black to have his hair cut by anyone less than the best.

Behind him, Regulus Black laid the table with equal efficiency. Both boys knew that if their jobs were done improperly, or left incomplete, they would be sent to their rooms without breakfast. It taught them discipline, their parents said.

"Breakfast ready yet?" asked Mr. Black, striding into the kitchen. He took his seat at the table, and surveyed the kitchen

"Nearly," his wife replied, without turning around. "Sirius, have you done that toast yet?" The boy turned around, pushing his black hair out of his eyes.

"Nearly, mother," He brought a loaded plate of toast over to the table and took his seat next to his little brother. His father pushed a package towards him.

"You should find that interesting," he said, helping himself to toast. "And why haven't you had a haircut?"

Sirius tore the paper off the parcel eagerly, ignoring his father's second comment.. He felt sure the parcel would contain a book. After he had taught himself to read when he was three, his parents encouraged him to use their library. But the young boy hadn't taken them up on that- he knew the library was full of books about the dark arts and about muggle-killings, and he didn't like the idea of that.

He crumpled up the paper and threw it to the floor. He turned the book face-up and read:

"Grindlewald: Misunderstood?" His face fell "Wasn't he the one who tried to kill all the muggles?"

"Yes. He was defeated by Albus Dumbledore a few years ago, the muggle-loving fool,"

"Good," said Sirius emphatically.

"Why say that, son?" Mr. Black asked, his grey eyes flashing dangerously

"Because muggles don't do us any harm, and we shouldn't hurt them" his son replied innocently, unaware of the trouble he was causing. His parents exchanged angry looks, while Sirius looked on bemused. He could tell that his parents were angry, but at six years old, could not understand why.

"Muggles have never done anything good for us, and we should not have to tolerate them!" Mr. Black banged his fist on the table to emphasise his words. Both Sirius and Regulus jumped.

"But they can't help it, they're only muggles" Sirius foolishly tried to reason with his father, whose eyes blazed angrily.

"Muggles are stupid. They can't even do magic," Regulus smirked.

"Neither can you," his brother pointed out reasonably.

"But I will one day, I'm going to be a really powerful wizard, like dad, aren't I mummy?" Regulus looked innocently at his parents.

"And have the same stupid views," Sirius muttered. Now he knew what his family were on about. And he hated it. He had never quite seen why his parents didn't like muggles, or muggleborns either, if it came to that. Not that he had had much contact with them, but his cousin Andromeda had just married a muggleborn called Ted, and Sirius had liked him enormously. Even his name was different - all the people Sirius knew had names from stars or history, while Ted said he was named after a King. King Ted - Sirius couldn't imagine that. Ted had also said he was named after a potato, which Sirius really didn't understand.

Adults were strange. Even decent adults, who didn't shout at Sirius if he disagreed with them.

"What was that?" his father demanded, leaping to his feet.

"Nothing," Sirius said quickly.

"Repeat!" Mr. Black demanded, advancing on his six-year-old son, who shrank back into his chair.

"Nothing, sir!" he squeaked.

"Go to your room!" Sirius fled the table, and the thump of terrified feet on the stairs showed that he had done as ordered.

"You too, Regulus," Mr. Black added, slightly more kindly.

"But dad…"

"Just go!"

The four-year-old reluctantly traced his brother's steps out of the room. Mr. Black turned to his wife.

"What shall we do with him?" she spat angrily, as if Sirius was a disobedient animal, rather than her son and heir to his family.

"It may stop now I've shown him that we don't tolerate that sort of rubbish in this house," her husband replied wearily. Mr Black didn't really believe it, but he hoped that by saying it, it would come true

"But the boys obviously a muggle-lover. If we don't stamp on it, he'll be a disgrace to the family name."

"Fine. I'll deal with it. At least young Regulus was showing some proper wizarding pride," he added, as he walked out into the hallway.

"Sirius! Here! Now!" he shouted up the stairs. A door banged, and Sirius' terrified face appeared at the top of the stairs. At a fierce nod from his father, he clattered down them to face him at the bottom. He knew exactly what was coming, but couldn't even begin to imagine disobeying.

With menacing slowness, Mr. Black removed his belt. Pulling his eldest son to him roughly, he glared at him…

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