Disclaimer: This Fan fiction is being written with the utmost respect for Jo Rowling and her works, I'm simply using her characters and fantastic universe to feed my undying dissatisfaction with lack of more detail on Sirius Black. Sufficed to say, copyright infringement would be a stupendously idiotic move on my behalf. Same goes for "Stardust", a song which belongs to Frank Sinatra, Tommy Dorsey, the Pied Pipers and all those who composed and wrote it for them.
For my Beta Readers: As always thank you for being such good friends and for the amazing help with editing this, a round of applause, DarkenedStar and KrystalMage
Stardust
Though I dream in vain
In my heart it always will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
November 1st 1959 was the coldest in half a century. The snow fell in relentless flocks, the night was pitch black and the windows were adorned with frozen shinny ice. Not a single soul dared lay a foot outside, with the snowstorm that threatened to dispose of any living being who defied Mother Nature's will. But this meant little or nothing to the troubled household of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, as they stressed around the chambers of the newlywed successors of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. And it was all because the night of November 1st 1959 was the same night the first heir to their line would be born.
Walburga Black had first gone into labor sometime after lunch, and after eleven painful hours, the line's successor, Sirius Black III was finally born into the world. With a crown of dark hair and stormy grey eyes that nobody could deny made him a Black, he was placed gently within his mother's loving embrace.
For as much as that night would be a metaphor for the life of the newborn, at that time, Walburga's only concern was her love for her first heir. She loved him with all her steel heart would dare feel. She had hated him for all the pain he had caused her, even after ingesting various potions prepared for her by the young and devoted house elf of House Black, Kreacher, to lessen the physical pain. It was only after holding him in her arms, feeling the faint beat of his heart against her chest and the peaceful, soft breathing against her neck that her eyes had softened to the child.
Walburga was exhausted, even in birth Sirius Black had been difficult, but as she closed her eyes, a wave of satisfaction and pride for herself overcame the pureblood, as a rare smile crept upon her lips. She had conceived a male heir for her house within her first year of marriage. Toujour pur, as pure a bloodline as any could be, and Sirius Black would be, no doubt in her mind, her pride and glory in years to come.
As her mind drifted to slumber with the newborn atop her breast, she failed to see the way the storm made way to silence, and a single silver light crept through the window, diffused through the soft shield of the ice coated glass, and rested in a soft silver glow, ending in a spotlight that illuminated the child. And just as silently as it had appeared, it faded away, returning the room to utter darkness, claiming both in their slumber.
Thus started the life of Sirius Black the third, a life in which he would be sure to have a leading role, for as we all know now, Sirius Black was ever prone to living life to its fullest, experiencing all he desired, and claiming his ideals as his way of life.
But it wasn't until later in his life that he had learned this, for Sirius Black, as a young child, would have other lessons to learn. Lessons that an heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black could not afford to pass, in the family he was born into, and duties that he would have to perform.
As a young child, Sirius had been spoiled by his mother, having had her full attention, until the birth of her second son, a year and a half after Sirius's birth. Curiously, Sirius could still remember that day. He recalled how bleak the sky had been, even for May, when spring should bring in warmer weather and bluer skies. Alas, the heavens were grey and dull, and the rain poured down as if the weeping of angels, incessantly predicting a horrific fate for the Black family. It was May 18th 1961, that Regulus Arcturus Black, his younger brother, was born. In contrast with his elder brother's birth, Regulus's birth had been quite fast and painless, seeming to predict how the child would conduct his life when he grew older.
And at first, Sirius was quite jealous of his younger sibling, who claimed the attention of the entire household, and his mother, while he was stuck, even at that tender age, with classes on ancient Latin, Greek and French. Many would later claim the uselessness of such knowledge to Sirius, including himself. However, the Black family customs insisted that he would need the knowledge to delve into the world of ancient spells, Dark Arts and other such core magic that would need him to have a clear understanding of the language so intricately woven into the spells he would no doubt cast later in his life.
Sirius still remembered the language lessons, dull as a rainy day, when all he could focus on was running freely through the green gardens he would only occasionally get to peek at through the glass, but seldom had the chance to enjoy. Instead, he had spent his time with his mother learning how to walk with the grace of a Black, and how to talk elegantly and softly as the Royalty that the Blacks believed themselves to be. He was never to raise his voice, for that was what commoners did, and no Black would ever subject themselves to such lowly standards. His mother taught him his manners, how to sit at a table, which cutlery of the many lain neatly around his plate to use, and which cup would be used in each occasion. And after that, he would still have classes on calligraphy, reading, and the basics of magic.
Many would argue that Sirius had been too young when he had started his lessons, but the Black family firmly maintained that he would have to start young if he was ever to dominate the full customs of his house and serve it proudly. By the age of three Sirius sounded already like a young adult, rarely mistaking any of his words, and if ever such a thing happened, he would be adequately punished by his mother. He also walked with a grace astounding for his age, and even had a certain control over his early magic, which had gained favor with his parents.
Very rarely, when he did something exceedingly extraordinary, he would see a sparkle in his mother's clear green eyes, and even more rarely, if he was very lucky, be worthy of a caress or a hug from the pristine, elegant woman. Sirius had thought of his mother as the most beautiful woman to ever live, with her immaculate image, carefully polished nails, perfectly combed golden tresses, which were usually styled into a chignon, tall and proud, with heels that clicked so softly on the floor that she appeared to be gliding over it.
And yet, as each day passed, she seemed further and further away from him, barely granting him a smile, even when she would do it so unabashedly for his younger brother. Sometimes Sirius would feel a darkness creeping from within him, wanting to earn that same praise for himself and himself alone, wanting his mother to take him out on his own, instead of his brother. He wondered why he still had to learn three languages apart from English, while his brother only learned Ancient Latin, and even further why his brother's so very current mistakes weren't treated with the severity his own were, even though he rarely ever made any mistakes.
But that darkness would never last for long, as his younger brother's adoring green eyes would turn to him, how he would try to imitate him, and insist on spending time with him. How could his heart not melt completely, when young Regulus adored him so flagrantly, and so wholeheartedly? He simply couldn't. And so, even as that darkness still remained locked in his heart, it would never be unleashed on him, for Regulus was Sirius's best friend, his brother, his family. They were both Blacks, and even at such a young age, Sirius was quite sure his brother's safety was entrusted to him.
As Sirius made his way into the dining room, being the first one there, he could hear his brother's footsteps accompanied by their mother's, taping on the wooden floor as he tried desperately to accompany his mother's long strides, and as they entered, Sirius noted their clasped hands. Sirius frowned, envy burning straight through him as he saw the intimate act of care he had desired so much for himself. His brother was now three and a half years old, Sirius had just turned five, he remembered that at three he no longer had any help from his mother in walking.
He felt outraged, and couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth a few moments later, "Aren't you a bit old to still cling on to mother, Regulus? You should be acting your age now." He said in his still childish voice, with all the conviction and seriousness of an adult.
Regulus turned his big green eyes on him, no doubt inherited from their mother, and smiled sheepishly, replying in his not so fairly developed speech, "Well…mama helped me, because I was a bit scared of walking in the corridors by myself alone Sirius. I'm still not very much brave like you…" He trailed, cheeks warm, knowing his older brother was expecting more of him, even in his young age. Regulus knew he wasn't as developed as his brother, even though his brain wouldn't process the information that way, he viewed his brother as a sort of 'super hero', doing everything perfectly, the way their parents wanted. Sirius had never cried like Regulus often did, and he wasn't allowed to fail in anything either without their parents being upset at him, like Regulus could. He had a deep admiration for his brother, and wanted nothing more than to be exactly like him. He tried to mimic his speech and imitate his expressions, and even the way he walked, yet little Regulus was bound to always trip over himself, or having to run to catch up constantly, after tripping over himself… He certainly didn't have the same grace his older brother processed, but he really wanted to. Above all, Regulus wanted to make his older brother proud, he wanted to be worthy of a smile from his big brother, who was everything he wanted to be when he grew up.
Their mother's sharp, feminine voice, however, cut through whatever would have been said next with her words. Her voice was chilly and strict when she had said it. "Sirius, you are the family heir, not your younger brother. We expect nothing but perfection from you… Regulus…" She looked at her younger child and the twinkle in her green eyes didn't escape Sirius's attention, "He's going to help propagate the Black line's next generation. Unlike you, Sirius, his responsibilities aren't to represent our House and our name. He doesn't need to be as perfect as yourself, he'll have time to perfect his craft, and in time I'm sure he will…" Her eyes were back on Sirius, no kindness left there. It wasn't because she didn't love her son, Walburga was sure Sirius would be the brightest star that was ever birthed into House Black, simply because he was her son. The lack of kindness was to prepare him for the world he encountered. There couldn't be a single hint of frailty from her eldest, not in the strict pure-blood society he'd been born into.
The boy had to be ruthless from a young age, if he expected to survive and strive as a pure-blood, an Elite member at that. House Black members were expected to rule over all other houses, being the most Noble and Ancient one that had survived. Their line alone was enough to elicit respect from all other houses, and if they were ever to be in a place in society, it would have to be on top of the pyramid. It was just the way it was, and would always be.
They were Pure-Blood Royalty, and Sirius would be the crown jewel in their family, surpassing their fathers before them. A small smile crept into her lips, startling Sirius, who tried to decipher his ever puzzling mother. Why would she have smiled after reprimanding him? And then, as if on cue to answer his question, the words left her lips, "I expect great things from you, Sirius. I'm sure you won't disappoint me."
His heart suddenly filled with a surge of heat to which he didn't have a name, but later on would learn that it was called ego. A bright smile broke through his face, happy with the near praise his mother had granted him with. Of course it wasn't a compliment, Sirius had never earned such a thing, but it meant that she thought good things of him. That she thought he was going to be the best, if only he tried as hard as he could to act like a true Black.
"Now, take your places boys, while we wait for your father to have dinner with us." She instructed softly, taking a place near the dinner table, Sirius being the first to take his place besides her to the right, and Regulus besides Sirius.
They both heard the heavy steps of Orion Black as he made their way into the dining room, Sirius's little heart thumped desperately in his chest as he waited for his father to join them. It wasn't that he was…scared, of his father, per se, it was just that… A deep shadow suddenly engulfed Sirius's figure, who stared at the ground as he waited for the older man's arrival. He timidly looked up to find the steely gaze of Orion Black staring down at him, and his eyes filled with uncertainty.
"Still so frail." Orion stated looking at him, as if examining a show animal. His eyes then turned to Walburga, elegant dark eyebrow raised over his stormy grey eyes, face chiseled, handsome and masculine, as if it was sculpted by one of the Ancient Greek Masters. "The boy still needs work, Walburga. What exactly have you been teaching him?" Orion was not the fatherly man one would expect him to be, as most of his life was occupied with his work in the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Magical Affairs and as the representative of the British, he travelled sometimes for weeks to settle deals and agreements. It was of no shock that whenever he would come back, he would be presented with his offspring for close inspection.
His mother's gaze was uncertain as she looked at her husband, she straightened her shoulders and smiled, "Well obviously we've been focusing on his magical work. He's improved quite a lot, even though you haven't really been with him to see his development." She tried to cover for herself, hoping he would drop the topic.
Orion's eyes turned back to the small frame of his eldest son, inspecting the way he immediately straightened his back and squared his shoulders as he had been taught, looking straight ahead of him. His eyes now held a determination which made Orion chuckle. So the little boy was protective of his mother, was he? He lazily drew his gaze back to his wife, a small smirk forming itself on his lips, "I suppose I'll have to be the one teaching him how to act like a man. The heir should start losing his boyishness at this age." He commented, taking his seat at the head of the table, with a quiet nod of his head which signaled the rest of the family could now sit.
They followed after him, his wife with a gaze that would almost make him believe she was ashamed of herself, while his eldest held his strong look, directed at his father, and Regulus sat down gazing around himself aloof, almost as if unaware of the tension dancing in the air.
He sighed, resigning himself to the thought that if he'd want things done right, he would have to do them himself. Walburga was a wonderful wife, who did her duties as best she could, but her mother's heart would always be in the way of teaching their son how think ruthlessly as a man. As himself, and his father before him. They had much work to do.
And so his fork dove down to pierce the meat on his place, his hold so strong it made the meat bones crack in a sound that turned all heads to him. In a way, he rather liked the way he instilled respect on all those around him, and with his eyebrows raised as if daring his family to question him, he brought the piece of meat to his mouth, a proud smirk forming on his face as he chewed.
I know it's just the beginning but give it some time, next chapter should be up next week :) thanks for reading!