Notes: Written for Nina (turn out fine) for the Gift-Giving Extravaganza. Additionally for the Hunger Games: Fanfic Style Competition II (prompts used: word, emotion, dialogue, setting, and weapon. And one half of the pairing, because I can.)

Nina: You requested 'Black family or Sirius-centric' and I really hope this fits the requirements. I can't resist Regulus. I just can't. Either way, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a lot of fun :)

Thanks to Jess (autumn midnights) for proofreading this, as always!

The Tale of the Two Brothers

Sirius decided that his mother's warnings to stay close were to be ignored.

To be fair, it wasn't necessary for a sentence to fully leave Mother's lips before Sirius resolved not to abide by it. Anything she said was either boring or hateful. Sirius wouldn't have any of it. That's how he'd found himself standing in front of the sign.

He couldn't be blamed - he was sure of that. After all, there was nothing interesting about Mother's long sessions at Madame Malkin's, among silks and velvets and bitter disagreements between designer and client. Even Regulus openly called them tedious, a word too big for the eight-year-old he was. It fit, though. So tedious it was.

The sign didn't read of Mother's strict orders never to venture in, her more general warning of staying in the vicinity of Madame Malkin's. There was none of that. The sign only read KNOCKTURN ALLEY in uneven lettering. Sirius was very much willing to forget all the rest when a featherlight hand reached his shoulder.

He didn't need to look back to know who it was.

"Why are you following me, Regulus?"

"Let's go back," the younger kid urged. "Mother said we shouldn't go there."

This time, Sirius did turn around.

"I know what Mother said." He crossed his arms. "Go rat on me, then. Don't forget that you're here, too."

Regulus crossed his arms, too, but he changed this stance quickly, pushing his hands into his pockets. To the casual observer, they might have looked like mismatched twins - one defiant, one defensive. But never the same.

In the back of his mind, Sirius knew that younger siblings tend to imitate the older ones. His cousin Bellatrix threw a fit every time her younger sisters wore the same color she did, or asked for the same flavor of ice cream at Fortescue's. However, this didn't stand true for Sirius and Regulus. If Sirius had it his way, Regulus would be a little bit more like him. As it was, Sirius usually antagonized his parents, whereas Regulus usually did nothing that Sirius did first.

No matter how much he wanted it.

"Don't go in, Sirius," Regulus begged. "This place looks... dodgy. Even Bella says it's not for kids like us."

"I'm going. You can either come with me, or turn back. I am going."

There was a moment of hesitation. But then, a gleam appeared in Regulus's gray eyes, which were commonly devoid of any flame that might be interpreted as dissent. He stepped forward.

"I'm coming with you."

"Suit yourself."

His predicament solved, Sirius walked forth. Swift steps behind him indicated that Regulus was following through with his words. He turned left at the corner where the sign stood. He was officially in Knockturn Alley - and so was Regulus.

So that was it. Only when Diagon Alley was safely behind them did Sirius realize the darkness surrounding him. It was as if Knockturn Alley was in a whole different universe, in a different magical plane of existence. The idea had certainly seemed safe in the broad daylight, but sunshine wasn't reaching the narrow spaces they'd gotten themselves into. The alley seemed to close in on them, as if the buildings themselves were conspiring to trap them in, reaching toward them with a subtle fog. The cold, thin air traveled between the buildings, murmuring curses that Sirius felt were aimed at him.

"I don't like this." Regulus's hand, warm against the weather, slipped in Sirius's.

"Shush." But he squeezed his brother's hand, telling himself that he needed to be there for the scared little one. Deep down, Sirius knew he needed it just as much.

The brothers walked slowly, taking in their surroundings. The passersby didn't show their faces. No one was looking at them, or at anyone else, as if there was inherent shame from walking those paths. The storefronts presented skulls and bones, glass jars with floating eyes, animals that wouldn't move. Hadn't he been so terrified and disgusted, Sirius might have found it fascinating. But as it was, the only thing he could truly feel was his brother's sweaty hand in his, and his own heart pumping blood through his system with such force, he was surprised it was all contained within his fragile body. He'd never thought of himself as such -breakable, vincible- until the fog had maimed his sight and his skin was no shield against the chilling air.

Sirius had started shaking, but he contained himself, and was about to feign boredom and disinterest so as to go back, when one man acknowledged them. He towered over the children, tall and wide, not bothering to hide his missing eye and curious limp. He was holding a hatchet, half-hidden inside his cloak. The two brothers might have overlooked it if they'd been any taller, if the blade hadn't been in their straight line of sight.

Regulus's hand gripped Sirius tighter.

"You shouldn't be here, lads." His scarred face contorted in a crooked smile. "Where's your mother?"

"She's-" Sirius was about to answer, his eyes on the small axe, but Regulus had tugged at him fiercely and was hurrying past the strange man, who was screaming something behind them that got lost within the wind.

"Mother says never to talk to strangers," Regulus said. "Next exit, we'll turn left and we'll be back in Diagon Alley, won't we?"

Sirius hadn't realized, until then, that he no longer guided Regulus. Though it wasn't like he ever did.

"Let's go back, if you're so scared." But Regulus didn't slow down.

"You're shaking."

"I'm cold," Sirius said, fully knowing this was a half-truth. "You're shaking too."

"I'm scared."

Sirius couldn't answer. He wanted to hate Regulus for it. Not because of his fears, but because he was admitting to them with his head held high, as if there was no shame in it. And Sirius wanted to weep, his only impediment being that Regulus's eyes were completely dry.

Their brisk pace eventually took them to a left turn. The long alley it uncovered got lost in shadows, leaving one thing clear: Diagon Alley was nowhere near.

"This is your fault," Regulus spat.

"My fault? You were the one who rushed us here!"

"Did you look at him? He was missing a chunk of his nose, Sirius! He's not... he had..."

"A tool, Regulus. He had a tool." Sirius didn't know who he was reassuring.

"It was sharp and looked like it could hurt somebody."

"If that's a weapon, it's not more deadly than a wand."

"Just look around, Sirius!"

"I have looked around. You're so paranoid!" Sirius wasn't sure it was the right word. He'd heard Andromeda use it though. He was only using it to antagonize Regulus, anyway. "You and Mum and Dad are thinking all the time that everyone out there wants to hurt us. So Muggles aren't safe, but now wizards aren't safe either?"

"These wizards aren't."

"These wizards? Wizards... like Bellatrix?"

"Bella has done nothing wrong!"

"Think about it, Regulus! How does she know that this is no place for kids? This is where you'll be when you're as old as her, if you keep doing what she does."

"I don't want to be here. I never wanted to. It was you who wanted to come here." Regulus released Sirius's hand and turned away from him. "I'm never coming back."

Sirius's hand, used to the warmth of his brother's, felt suddenly chilly. He reached for Regulus, who only stepped back.

"Regulus-"

"Don't talk to me, Sirius. I hate you." Without looking at his older brother, Regulus ran away.

Sirius rushed behind him, down the road they'd come from. The oppressing atmosphere was secondary to the burning instinct to stay close to Regulus, to keep him in sight, to prevent his little brother from getting lost or hurt. But Regulus knew his way better than Sirius had, apparently, for sooner than he'd expected, it was over. They were back in Diagon Alley before the air in Sirius's lungs had become unstable, before he even had the opportunity to stop and gasp and pant and lose track of his own beating heart. He knew it meant they hadn't been in too deep, even if his intuition didn't agree. Regulus did slow down, however, allowing Sirius to catch up. The warm rays of the sun were reaching them again, and the contrast was welcome to his frozen bones.

"I didn't like it, okay?" Sirius said. "I just-"

"You wanted to stay."

"Did not! I only wanted to see what it was like. You followed me."

"As if you would've gone in on your own!"

"Then don't accuse me. You wanted to see it as much as I did!"

Regulus's response was lost to Sirius. They were halfway to Madame Malkin's when Sirius spotted their mother. She had a savage look to her, her eyes searching, her bun a little bit too loose. Until she caught sight of them. Sirius only identified her contorted expression as worry when it had been replaced by obvious relief.

Mother sighed audibly and rushed toward them, arms extended.

"Regulus! Sirius! Where, in the name of Merlin...?" She caught up to them. She must've noticed Regulus was still trembling, because her hand flew to caress her youngest son's cheek. "You're freezing! Where were you? I was going sick-"

"We- we got lost," Regulus answered in a croaky voice, as if bits of it had been stolen by the fog.

"Sirius, what did you do this time?" There was sternness in her manner and questions in her piercing stare. Sirius was used to it, being slighted in favor of Regulus, who never disobeyed and never questioned them. He wanted to be mad at the reproach. He wanted to challenge Mother, as he always did. However, in the back of his mind, he knew she was right. Only this time.

"I did nothing." Sirius crossed his arms, not hesitating to meet her eye. "You heard him. We got lost."

Thankfully, Mother seemed to have no time for reprimands. She enveloped Regulus tightly with one arm, whispering hurried words into his ear that Sirius couldn't hear. Her free hand rested on Sirius's shoulder. It made him uneasy. All he could think of was Regulus's almost ethereal touch before they'd ventured into Knockturn Alley, and Regulus's firm grip when Sirius was the only one who could've relieved his fears. Regulus's extended hand was always one that sought mutuality. Instead, Mother's hand weighed limply upon his shoulder. She wouldn't bother to touch Sirius's face. She wouldn't show horror at his cold skin. Mother just sought to relieve her own worries, not his. Never his.

Sirius had expected to feel such relief when Mother was done with her displays and he could catch Regulus's gaze. But he didn't. They both knew that they would be punished sooner or later. That was certain. All things considered, it was a good thing she would never know there had been more than careless steps leading them astray, more than fleeting distractions to their young minds. It was their little secret. Sirius grinned tentatively. Regulus looked away. Mother grabbed them by the wrist and dragged them along. A few bags full of robes and cloaks levitated just behind them, merrily following their steps.

"You don't hate me," Sirius whispered to Regulus, when he was sure his mother wasn't listening. There was no response.

I'll give him a few hours, Sirius decided. He's still scared. But it will be fine.

To Sirius, however, it seemed unfair to have such things said to him. He didn't deserve his brother's hate. Sirius hadn't had a good time in Knockturn Alley either, and he'd never forced Regulus to come with him. It was all gone, anyway, and they were safe. And yet, he would've given everything, everything, to feel his brother's weightless hand instead of his mother's iron grip.

But it's good he's mad at me, isn't he? It means that he doesn't like those things. It means he won't turn out like Bellatrix.

That thought gave Sirius all the relief he'd failed to attain so far. Regulus was as brave as he was smug, as caring as he was blind. He was good beneath the surface, no matter how much everyone else tried to turn him rotten. No. Sirius could never hate Regulus, even if Regulus sometimes did. Even if, when Regulus had let him go in Knockturn Alley, something had changed. Something had broken.

It will be fine.

(Years later, Regulus would walk those dark paths on an errand for his Master, wishing he had Sirius's steady hand to cling to.)