Sirius's shoes were filled with mud.

They were completely covered, inside and out, with the red-ish brown-ish goo. He knew his mother would certainly whip him when he got back, or do something equally as scary, but he was already soaked, and there was really no going back now. Not when they'd run all the way into the trees.

Stupid cat. Running away from them in the rain when all they wanted to do was help him.

He blamed the weather. It was entirely the weather's fault for making his shiny brown shoes all dirty and making the little cat run away.

Well, he supposed it was partly Regulus's fault too. After all, it had been Regulus who had spotted the pathetic creature limping about in the trees and insisted that he bring it back to the house. And now, as it had inconveniently began raining, they were scouring the forest for the animal.

Stupid six-year olds. Always making things harder for him.

Sirius stamped his foot in frustration.


His mother had yelled.

Loudly.

Regulus flinched, still holding the kitten close to him. Sirius, watching from the side, wanted badly to do something, but really, what can you do once Walburga Black starts shouting?

He wanted to run to Regulus and hug him and tell him it would be alright, that maybe mother just doesn't think we need a kitten right now, that if he was careful they could hide him in Sirius's closet and no one would know. But he knew his mother would only yell louder.

He knew he should've at least snuck them up the side of the house so she wouldn't see the mud. He just knew it. Now there was a stray, and probably not purebred, animal in the house, and they had tracked mud on the (one of a kind, probably crafted by 100% slave labour) rugs. Great.

Regulus was trembling now, and the cat was trembling even harder. Sirus just crossed his fingers and hoped that the whole issue was over before his father came home.


Sirius knew right away the cat was useless.

His mother had reluctantly agreed to house the cat, so long as it was able to catch mice. If it proved itself to be useless, it would be thrown out (as was the rule of pureblood families regarding living things, of course).

Now he watched as it crept across the floor and curled into a ball while Regulus petted it softly. Well, at least it was good for something. Sirius could almost feel the happiness radiating off of his little brother.

He knew, though, that the cat would never be able to catch any mice, that was for sure. He'd seen it in action. A rat had scampered across the sitting room floor just days ago, and all the little kitten did was run. Run!

There was no way it was happening.

Sirius glanced at his little brother again, giggling softly as he stroked the kitten. It wasn't often you could see him like that, what with the whole issue of being the son of Walburga and Orion Black and all.

He sighed.

Well, he supposed the cat was worth it all, if only to keep that little spark of happiness in the household between all the beatings and shouting….

Sirius grabbed his brand new pocketknife, a gift from his uncle, and pulled himself up the ladder to the attic.

He had some mice to kill.


I've never read any stories featuring Sirius and Regulus only, so I don't really know if there are a million other ones like this out there...

I just had a thought of Sirius killing mice and leaving them on the doorstep so that Walburga would think the cat had done it, so I decided to write this story :D

I hope you've enjoyed it at least a little.

Apologies for any mistakes, it's not beta'd. I just wrote this out only five minutes ago, and now I'm going to post it.