Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associated characters, places and events.

The Table of His Father

"Sirius! Sirius!"

The five-year-old ran, feet slapping against the carpet to his big brother.

"Hold up there, Regs," Sirius laughed and he was just strong enough to lift Regs and swing him round once. Puffing, he lowered his little sibling to the ground and sat back on his heels. "What's the hurry, birthday boy?"

"Can you fix my collar?" Regs begged. "Mama won't see me till I'm ready and I can't get it right!"

"Of course I can." Sirius crossed his arms in an imitation of their father and tried a lopsided expression of haughty displeasure that merely looked comical on his childish face, despite its heavy lines. "But you know you're five today, so it's 'Mother,' not 'Mama' anymore. She insists, so that we 'may properly maintain the dignity befitting the house of Black,'" reported Sirius importantly.

Regs giggled. "All right. But my collar, please?"

When the collar of the black and silver coat was correctly arranged, Sirius led Regs down the majestic stairs into the drawing room. Regs waited for Sirius to step aside, for though he was the heir, this was the day of Regs' recognition into the world of dignity and responsibility. Today, he was to take up a recreation according to the decree of his ancestry, learn how to cultivate a healthy social disposition and begin his early wizardry studies. This was to be brought about by daily classes in deportment, history, basic magical theory and the current state of affairs in the world, particularly within the ministry. He was to decide between a hobby of serpent care, potions or astronomy, begin flying lessons, which were to take place at Uncle Alphard's property and sit at the big table to learn the proper use of utensils in every circumstance. Mama – no, Mother – had invited his Black cousins and aunt and uncle, as well as his grandfather. Sirius, as heir, would lead him out, but Regulus was to rely only upon himself for the rest of the evening. Sirius had begun these very same studies two years prior, but his daily instruction also included the workings of the family, and its history; the honour and recognition he would command at its head someday.

"Regulus Arcturus Black," said Ma - Mother grandly as he entered behind Sirius. She frowned at her older son and he stepped aside sharply. She bestowed a beauteous smile, full of pride and expectation on her younger son. On this same day, Sirius had begun his travels into the territory of sophistication, but he lacked a certain finesse that she sensed in Regulus and knew she could bring it out if it were carefully nurtured. Sirius had forgotten to bow to his grandfather first and sulked at having to choose his hobby, wishing instead to spend every weekend on his broom. She so abhorred the petulant pout he'd had that day that she'd never quite forgotten it. He'd run off to his uncle's far too eagerly, like a hooligan or one of those muggle-raised upstarts she so detested. She shuddered at the memory, but smiled indulgently at Regulus, her little prince, and bright as a button. Oh, Sirius was intelligent, but he had no wish to truly apply himself. He'd taken up astronomy eventually, but only after adding potion ingredients far too boisterously and melting the best copper cauldron, and tried to extract snake venom from the Indian cobra instead of providing rodents for its meal. The late nights often left him unruly and unmanageable but it kept him from too much mischief in the end.

And here was her little son, not fidgeting, standing straight and proud.

"Enter the realm of your inheritance," she said and motioned him inside.

Regs took a deep breath, and walked a few paces. He stopped smartly and bowed first and deepest to his grandfather, Arcturus Black; then to his father, Orion; to his mother, Walburga; and finally to his mother's brother, Uncle Cygnus. Regulus looked up at his mother and his eyes found the almost imperceptible signs of approval between the harsh lines and rigid features. He relaxed ever so slightly and waited for her to speak again.

"Have you, my second son, chosen a hobby that befits your position as a scion of the house of Black?" she asked him, hoping for a proper answer this time.

"I have decided to take up the art of potions," he piped up in his youthfully untempered voice, serious as he could be. Had Walburga been a person of many tears, she would have wept to see him. He was not perhaps as handsome as Sirius, which was all to her heir's advantage of course, but Regulus just had a spark of proper decorum waiting to be cultivated, and his smooth child's face would serve him well enough for the time being. If only Sirius' introduction had been so perfect. Although perhaps her expectations had been unreasonable; Sirius had been the first and so had no one's mistakes to learn from but his own, whereas Regulus could learn from Sirius'. And he had done so.

Regulus held his breath and crossed his fingers behind his back. He heard the tiny puff of air from Sirius that meant he had seen and was amused. Mother smiled at him again, and he let out his breath, his child's face betraying relief as his choice was accepted. He was ready to join the table of his father.

Regs walked evenly to his place at the foot of the table, normally reserved for his uncle. Sirius took his usual place two seats from his father who was sitting at the table's head where Orion was flanked on either side by his wife and father. Where Regulus normally sat, on Sirius' other side, was their oldest cousin, Bellatrix.

Regulus struggled to pull out the chair on his right for Narcissa, six years his senior, and she was just kind enough to place her slippered foot around the corner of the leg to help him. He glanced at her sideways and saw a tiny smile on her graceful countenance, surrounded by shimmering waves of blonde hair. He waited while she sat, then carefully pushed it back in again. Taking his own seat, his feet did not even reach the ground when raised upon such an elaborate throne of dining. He sat straight in his chair and looked around the table.

His family all spoke imperiously to one another, sneers and raised eyebrows of contempt on every other face. Narcissa's sister, Andromeda, older again by two years was quietly discussing fashions with the blonde and he could see his oldest cousin seated by Sirius and giving him a nasty earache by the look on his brother's face. He tried to keep his face as blank and regal as possible, tilting his chin up slightly while desperately trying to hear the conversation four seats away.

"Well, well, cousin, why so serious? Jealous of your brother's success?" sneered Bellatrix, her face held in lines of perfect elegance, but her eyes full of malice. "Oh, pardon me; I appear to have slighted you." She laughed gently, the throaty tones cascading down the table. One look at Sirius' face and Regulus knew that his brother was going to end up locked in the Dark Room for disobedience and disrespect unless he was diverted before he could speak. Regs quickly sat forward, careful to keep his shoulders straight and called out the first thing he could think of to Andromeda.

"Andromeda, can you tell me about Professor Forld's dueling class?" His face was eager, hoping to hear about wonderful tales of battle and magic, the wonder of it still fresh for him. Half of the table quieted to listen to the response; the spry school professor was a well-known duelist and came from one of the near-extinct family lines. Regulus was too young to feel particularly nervous at the new attention, but he could sense the eyes of both his mother and cousins upon him and hoped the ploy hadn't been too obvious - or subtle. Sirius was always telling him to use his childish face, 'cos they both knew he was smart, but no one else ever expected it. Sirius had been about to reply heatedly to a barb that he knew had been placed carefully under his skin. Regulus couldn't talk to either Sirius or Bellatrix because it would have been too rude to speak across his other two cousins unless he was spoken to from their end first, but he could speak to Andromeda. And if he said something interesting enough that Bellatrix was diverted, then Sirius would only be talking to thin air.

"Professor Forld?" inquired Andromeda, her heavily-lidded eyes watching him sharply. Regulus focused on the conversation, ignoring Bellatrix's contemptuous gaze.

"Yes, didn't you say," here he paused, searching for something to discuss. "Didn't you say he was giving private lessons?"

"Why, yes," Andromeda replied. She was still eyeing him carefully. "Are you eager to begin such studies, then?" Here almost the entire table turned to see his reply.

"I think dueling is good for practicing magic and learning control and – and it is good to be able to defend yourself and your honour!" Regulus squeaked, knowing his answer was important. Somehow, a question to distract Bellatrix had become an inquisition into his own knowledge and beliefs. He swallowed and reached for a glass of water, small hands holding it tightly to prevent it from spilling.

"Well," Bellatrix smirked. "At least we won't have to worry about Regulus preserving the Black family honour!" The sentence was innocuous enough, but amidst the indulgent smiles of the adults, Regs could see Sirius bristling, all the indignation of his seven years blazing beneath the aristocratic brows.

"Now, dearest, let the boy enjoy his day in peace," cooed Aunt Druella. She soon took Bella's interest away from immature cousins by denouncing the mudbloods amongst her fellow fifth-years. Regulus let out a breath and almost slumped, catching himself at the last second. He saw Mother nod imperiously at him and he sat a little straighter as the first course was served. Sirius caught his eye and let a little misery seep out of his expression. Regulus nodded back at him, unsure what he could do. Sirius was always picked on by Bella but she was so much older that neither of them could do much about it. It was the life of the elite. Take your curses or send them back, Father would snarl at them sometimes. Sending them back to her would be disrespectful because they were younger. Even though Sirius could get away with it because he was the heir, he always let them get to him and got angry instead of even. So in the end, Sirius couldn't even take his curses the way he was supposed to.

Regs was brought back to earth by a small nudge from Narcissa.

"Nice save," she murmured to him. He looked at her wide-eyed, but she was eating daintily and held only disdain on her face for any conversation while eating. Andromeda was similarly engaged, haughtily regarding the rest of the table. Regulus did his best to remain emotionless but inside his heart was pumping a little too fast for comfort. He hoped Father hadn't noticed.

A short while later, in the middle of the next course, during which Regulus had almost chosen the wrong fork, the topic of discussion turned to Bella's grades in Charms, which were apparently nearly quite as good as those for Transfiguration.

"I'm sure you can do a little better," said Uncle Cygnus gruffly. Regulus glanced at his uncle but did not allow his gaze to linger very long. If he was ruthlessly honest with himself, he did not really like his Uncle. He got very loud after the whisky was brought out and seemed to be a bit mean sometimes. Sirius said that he was bitter because Mother had managed to give Father two sons but Uncle Cygnus had three children and they were all girls. Regs didn't really understand why Uncle was called bitter – wasn't that something nasty you tasted? – but he could understand why he wanted a son. Girls were soft and their inheritance was only a dowry but the sons got all the property and were the heirs. Not that Regs thought Bella was particularly soft; in fact she was probably the hardest girl Regs knew and she was a lot meaner than Sirius! Andromeda was tough too, Regs thought. Narcissa was the soft one, but she was a real lady. Andromeda - and Bella too he supposed - were ladies, but they didn't have the thing Narcissa had – 'poison,' Sirius had said once, giggling. But that wasn't right. Pause? Poise? Something like that.

"Charms are very important for lateral thinking and creativity in dueling," Uncle Cygnus continued. "I do hope you aren't neglecting it." There was a little sneer under his voice.

Bellatrix's eyes were burning as she tossed back her inky hair. In the light of the fire, her face was shadowed and hollowed in strange places but Regs thought she looked sort of proud and kind of beautiful. Then she spoke and it was just his contemptuous cousin again, thorns ripe in her tone and the mocking disgust dripping from her tongue.

"Neglect, Father? Oh no, the last essay I completed was marked down because I took the liberty of asking for permission to use the Restricted Section purely in order to disprove that idiot professor's theory on the destructive value of blood for anchoring complex charms. I'm sure she's only a half-blood at best, but why they'd let anyone teach with the amount of sense she's got is far beyond my comprehension."

"We must write to Board of Governors and complain then," cried Aunt Druella, eyes lighting up at the prospect of having a hand in the dismissal of incompetence. Uncle Cygnus only grunted agreement and nodded sharply in Bella's direction. It wasn't long before his cousin returned to her torture of poor Sirius. Regs couldn't hear the words but Sirius was getting redder and redder around the neck, while his lips gradually became bloodless. Regs was almost bursting with the need to help him but there was nothing he could do any more. Andromeda was utterly occupied with the discussion she was having with Aunt Druella and talking to Narcissa would accomplish nothing. Regs resisted the temptation to squirm uncomfortably in his seat. It was unlike those of Slytherin's ilk to remain when the dam was about to burst, and Sirius was so close to breaking that Regs could even see his eyes dilating.

He gasped as Narcissa brushed his hand with a pale finger. He looked at her, forgetting to hide his expression. He could see himself in the reflection of her eyes, slightly panicked and braced for the explosion that was imminent. But in her face he could read two things: a tiny amount of sympathy for him, and a little malicious glee at what was to come. The pretty blonde said nothing but Regs turned away from her, angry and blank. He fed himself blindly, not noticing the satisfaction radiating from his mother at his unmoved expression. He was so preoccupied with hiding his internal resentment for his cousins that he was unprepared for the bomb that was Sirius.

"Shut up!" Sirius all but screamed, on his feet in a flash, fists clenched at his sides. The movement had knocked the dish near his elbow flying towards Bella's smug face. Shocked and startled, Regs could only think that it was accidental magic due its completely unusual trajectory from the table to her face with only an elbow for propulsion. It halted inches from her nose and lazily settled back down to the pristine tablecloth of silver on black. Even more surprised, Regs looked around to see Mother's wand tangled carelessly in her fingers. She'd known it would happen! Regs was a little hurt that Mother would let Sirius be provoked like that, but when she saw him looking at her with that little face so round with incomprehension and surprise, she gave him a little frown and raised an eyebrow. Regs shut his mouth, blanked his face and settled back, understanding.

Sirius had to take his curses or send them back. He had to learn how to beat Bella at her own game or he would never lead the family right. Regs knew it was necessary. How many times had he heard Father telling them that? And Mother yelling at Sirius to behave like a proper, dignified pureblood?

Father stood up as well, thunder on his face and utterly, utterly furious. "How dare you?" he hissed, his frame trembling from the sheer intensity of his fury. "You have shamed us! How dare you speak to your own blood in such a manner? Leave the table this instant!"

Mother's face, a moment ago so calm to Regulus, was contorted with disgust. "Leave your filthy mudblood habits in your head and behave with proper decorum or you'll never see the outside of this house again!" Her tone promised a harsh punishment and Regs shivered to hear it.

Sirius was as stiff as a rod, and his handsome face devoid of emotion as he turned from the table and walked out of the room. Regs hoped he had the sense to go to the Dark Room and spare himself the humiliation of being dragged there. Mother would deal with him after the meal.

Aunt Druella shook her head sadly. "He's got a bold streak that one. He'll come out with bravado every time unless you crush it out of him now."

"Thank you, Druella," snarled Mother, summoning the house elves to bring out the next course. "For your advice on how to treat my son. You have so much experience in the matter." Aunt Druella's face turned an interesting shade of purple and she busied herself with eating.

Regs didn't remember how he got through the rest of the meal, but a long time later, after Uncle Cygnus had laughed cruelly into his whisky and he'd made his bows to his grandfather and cousins as they left, he crept up the stairs and stood in the corner of the hallway, waiting. Not long after, Mother's footsteps began up the stairs and Regs shivered with dread. She arrived at the Dark Room and stepped in with her wand raised to light the gloom. Regs peered after her from the darkness of his corner and saw the outline of Sirius standing straight on the bare wooden floor. The room was empty, and always had been. It was charmed so that no sound would escape or enter from outside and was never heated. No elf ever ventured into it by express order and the lock on its door was warded. No light could enter if it was closed. Regs waited and trembled from the words his Mother was saying though he could not hear them. Each sentence of invectives and tirade of abuse seemed to strike Sirius physically and he flinched as she towered over him. However, when Mother's hand slapped him across the face he did not move, proud and resistant. Regs saw Mother convulse with wrath at his reticence. The hand came down again, this time on his backside and Regs cowered in the darkness. When she had finished her tirade, Mother strode out of the room, straightening her robes. She shut the door with a loud snap and activated the lock before walked away, breathing heavily.

Waiting for a few moments, Regs slipped from his hideaway and went to his room. He carefully scrawled a note in the glowing ink Uncle Alphard had bought them once for fun, his largely untrained hand smearing the ink a little. He blew on it to dry the words and tiptoed down the hall to the Dark Room. It was a long time ago that they had discovered the lock only held for the door frame and the light blocking spell did not stop anything else from getting under the door. He slid the note under, hoping Sirius would hear the slide of it against the floor and pushed the loaded quill after it. Sirius would wipe any stray ink from the floor after he had replied, to stop Mother from knowing.

Regs sat on the cold hallway floor, knowing that Sirius would be a lot colder and waited for a response to his little scrap of apology and well-wishing. It wasn't long before the paper returned, the writing messy from writing blind. It was short, for the quill only held so much ink. Regs took it, and the quill, back to his room and read it slowly, sounding out the words.

Never mind. Go and dream, birthday boy.

A/N: Thank you very much to my reviewers, for their encouragement and advice. It is greatly appreciated. Also thanks to those who are following on alerts. I should mention that updates are likely to be sporadic and unpredictable, but please enjoy what I've got.