He was the disgrace of the family for something that had never been in his control. Sirius couldn't really say that he was surprised about how he was treated, though.

Sirius knew what they said about him behind his back, or whenever they felt like. Honestly, he was mute, not deaf. You'd think that that they would know better. He could hear the razor-sharp words they enjoyed sending his way, even though he couldn't reply to them, not caring about the fact that every moment was a reminder of his lack of voice without the pack of wolves that were known as 'Pureblood Society' forcing the notion down his throat. For all their rules, they didn't care for each other, and your words had to be just as barbed as everyone else's without insulting any of them to truly fit in and be accepted.

Not that Sirius would ever fit in anyway. He couldn't speak a word, barbed or otherwise, and sometimes Sirius was glad that he couldn't. That meant that he didn't have to learn to be careful with his words, and worry about anything he said being used against him in a situation where he hadn't expected it, like Regulus had to. Sirius had seen that happening too many times within these pureblood parties alone. Beyond closed doors, Sirius would only assume that it was just that much worse.

Sirius's only source of amusement within these parties was Regulus. Or, more accurately, Regulus's words. They made up for Sirius's lack of them and more, because Sirius knew that he would never be able to think of those barbs and jeers at such short notice, never mind make it seem like it was a compliment. Sirius could see through them, but a compliment was supposed to be a compliment, and an insult remaining just that.

Regulus's eyes met Sirius's and they exchanged tight smiles. Regulus had never liked listening to the insults thrown in Sirius's general direction. Despite being younger than Sirius, Regulus had taken the position of Sirius's protector from a young age, protecting him from their taunting peers whenever their parents weren't looking. Walburga and Orion Black never supported sheltering Sirius, after all. They were all for Sirius learning to deal with those children on his own. The compassion one would have expected from parents were noticeably absent in public, but within the confines of their home, Walburga and Orion treated him with hints of favouritism.

They had convinced the Ministry to allow him a wand several years before he had turned eleven, and his training with magic had begun then.

Not that anyone outside their immediate family knew anything of it, and Sirius was certain that they never would find out. Not until he reached Hogwarts, at least, and there would be nothing any of them would be able to do about it then.

That was the only satisfaction Sirius got in all of this.

…xXx…

His letter had arrived a couple of months less than a year ago, and Regulus had worn that helpless look ever since. Sirius hated that expression on his brother, especially after everything Regulus had done for him. It was time for him to learn to deal with people on his own. He couldn't possibly rely on Regulus his entire life. That would be too easy, and Regulus would hate him for it later.

Sirius would never forgive himself if Regulus hated him because of his silence. His silence and ego weren't anywhere near as precious as his relationship with his brother, something he wouldn't risk for the world. If keeping that relationship alive meant that Sirius would have to face those words that cut like knives, then he would.

The time Sirius had been given to prepare had only served to boost his desire to be able to use magic as freely as anyone else. It had been a struggle from the very first day, all his tutors at a loss on how to teach him magic without the incantations of each spell. Sirius had always thought that his magic acted more readily due to his silence, although no one ever knew if the bursts of accidental magic were his or Regulus's.

The Hogwarts letter had proven that at least some of it was his, if his ability to get a wand hadn't been enough of an indication. While Sirius hadn't made a wonderfully large amount of progress in the last ten months, he was able to produce the majority of the first year spells without too much of a problem: a feat for someone of his age, his father had assured him.

That had been the only thing to ease Regulus's worry as it meant that he had some means of protection. His mother had worn an expression of pride whenever she spotted him practicing his magic. She never said a word, but the gentle brushes of his hair when she passed by said more than enough. Words had never meant the same thing to him as it did to everyone else. Sirius didn't need what he didn't have.

Sirius could feel the rumbling of the red steam-train that was the Hogwarts Express below his feet, he could hear the gushing of steam somewhere above him. The sky darkening outside his window told him that he was only getting closer and closer. He was one of them now. No matter how much derision the Pureblood Society held for him, he was here.

He was going to Hogwarts, and anything that happened from here was something he could handle. Or was something he would have to learn to deal with himself, at least.

And he would show them everything he could do with his silence.

Written for TolkienScholar [October Exchange] – Sirius Black, Family, disability!AU, compassion, precious