Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the short delay. My laptop finally died and a large snow storm trapped me in my dormitory for a week. To make up for the delay, I have three chapters!

Chapter Two

Mr. Potter was renowned for being a calm and patient man.

He rarely got angry.

He rarely was impolite.

He rarely even swore.

Yet, at the moment, he was thinking of several choice words.

He handed his handkerchief to the teary-eyed Healer. She had just informed him that somebody had used the Cruciartus Curse on the eldest child.

The two were standing in the boy's hospital room.

The boy had been wheeled in several minutes ago. He was now sleeping in a bed that was too large for him. In fact, everything about the room seemed to be too large for a child. The child had not yet stirred. Then again, his Healer had poured a sleeping potion down his throat.

"How many times?" Mr. Potter asked, "How many times was he cursed?"

His voice was shaking.

The Healer took a deep breath and whispered, "At least half a dozen."

Mr. Potter was so furious that he didn't even hear someone come up behind him.

Therefore, he jumped when someone growled, "Alright, Potter?"

Mr. Potter turned and saw that the voice belonged to Alastor Moody. He briefly wondered what Moody was doing here before realizing that he had broken protocol. He had no doubt that Fudge had sent Moody along to collect him, though it seemed that Moody had no intention of doing so.

"I want Orion and Walburga Black arrested," Mr. Potter quietly said, "And charged with child abuse, child negligence, child endangerment, and the use of an Unforgivable Curse."

"I'll send them straight to Azkaban," Moody retorted.

Mr. Potter appreciatively smiled and said, "No, take them to the holding cells at the Ministry first. I've already broken enough protocol today."

"Speaking of," Moody agreed, "Fudge is looking for you."

"I figured," Mr. Potter sighed, "What does he want?"

"Your head served on a golden platter," Moody wryly replied, "I haven't seen him this angry in a while. 'Says that he should charge you for kidnapping."

"That's a bit of an overreaction, don't you think?" Mr. Potter lightly replied, "But very well. Do you think he'll charge me before or after he has my head served on a golden platter?"

Moody chuckled before saying, "Fudge knows that charging you with anything is basically asking for a mutiny. I'd walk out, Kingsley would walk out…Not to mention Thompson, Igoe, Hendrix, the Prewetts, Murphy…"

"And I appreciate that, old friend," Mr. Potter interjected, "But you know that I would never ask for it."

"And you know that you would never need to," Moody retorted.

Mr. Potter gratefully smiled.

"Anyway," Moody continued, "Where's the boy's brother?"

"In the waiting room," Mr. Potter explained, "I've been with him all day. He's a mess."

"Has he talked yet?"

Mr. Potter shook his head.

"When were you planning on contacting MCPS?"

Mr. Potter sighed.

He should have contacted them hours ago.

Yet, something had stopped him.

Even if a competent agent had been assigned to the boys, they would have still sent the youngest child to one of the group homes for wizarding children.

The poor child had been through quite enough already.

"I've broken protocol already," Mr. Potter thoughtfully said, "What's a little more…"

"That's the spirit," Moody chuckled, "I suppose that you're going to stay here?"

Mr. Potter nodded and said, "I don't want to leave them alone. I've sent a message to James and Elizabeth. They understand."

In fact, his family had been more than understanding.

He and Moody talked for a few more minutes about the formal charges that would be placed upon Orion and Walburga Black. The Auror then Apparated away with the promise that he would tell Fudge some cockamamie lie about why he couldn't bring Mr. Potter in.

Mr. Potter walked back down to the waiting room and saw that the child was curled up on one of the hard chairs. His eyes were red and puffy.

"Come here," Mr. Potter gently said.

He sat down and pulled the boy into his lap.

The boy gave a stifling yawn.

Mr. Potter thought back to a song that he had heard his grandmother sing.

He tightly held the child and sang:

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Hush now don't you cry!

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, That's an Irish lul-la-by…

The boy had begun to softly snore.

Mr. Potter smiled.

He sat with the sleeping child for several hours, nearly dozing off himself.

At a quarter past three, he heard someone excitedly whisper his name.

A matron raced up the corridor and quickly gushed, "The eldest child is awake."

Mr. Potter gently set the boy onto the chair, leapt to his feet, and importantly followed the matron. He entered the room and saw that the boy was sitting up, blinking as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright lights. They widened and he craned his neck to look round. His breathing escalated as he realized that he was in a strange place.

"Hush," Mr. Potter gently said, "You're alright."

The boy, having just realized that he was there, now glanced at him.

He swallowed before whispering, "You're the man from earlier…"

Well, at least he could talk!

That was a relief.

"Yes," Mr. Potter agreed, "My name is Benjamin Potter. I'm an Auror."

He quickly turned to one of the matrons and added, "Please send word to the Auror Office that Kingsley Shacklebolt is needed immediately."

She nodded and raced way.

The boy swallowed and whispered, "Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital—"

As soon as the words escaped Mr. Potter's lips, the other matrons pushed past him and began to check the boy's vitals. They pried his eyes open and used the light at the tip of their wands to check them. They then checked his nostrils and poked around in his mouth.

Mr. Potter talked over them, "Can you tell me your name?"

"I'm…"

The boy trailed off and abruptly cried, "Regulus!"

"Your name is Regulus?" Mr. Potter asked.

The boy shook his head and frantically said, "Regulus is my brother! Is he okay?"

Mr. Potter immediately understood.

He assured the boy that there was nothing to worry about before ducking into the corridor and going down to the waiting room. The boy, Regulus, had woken up. He was anxiously kicking his feet and biting his nail. No…as he looked closer, Mr. Potter realized that the poor boy was sucking his thumb.

"Regulus?"

The boy flushed and his hand immediately fell into his lap.

Mr. Potter gave him the kindest of smiles as he said, "Your brother is awake."

Regulus stared at him for a few seconds before his face broke out into a smile. He leapt up and raced in front of Mr. Potter.

He peered around the corner of his brother's room before crying, "Sirius!"

Mr. Potter gave a start as the small boy leapt onto the bed and threw his arms around his older brother's neck. The older brother, Sirius, folded his arms around Regulus and tightly hugged him.

"So," Mr. Potter softly said, "Sirius and Regulus."

The brothers looked up at their names, like loyal dogs.

"Regulus, can you talk?" Mr. Potter asked.

Regulus shook his head.

"He can talk," Sirius spoke up in a small voice, "He's just afraid."

"Of what?"

"Mother," Sirius squeaked, "She told us…that we couldn't talk to any Aurors or Ministry Officials…unless she says so."

His eyes widened at his own words and he lowered his head.

Mr. Potter gently said his name.

Sirius looked up, silent and scared.

Mr. Potter was just able to refrain a groan. He couldn't have the boy clam up now; they were just beginning to make progress. And yet, the poor boy refused to say another word. He was biting his lip and his jaw was trembling.

"Sirius," Mr. Potter whispered, "Can I tell you a secret?"

Sirius' eyes briefly sparkled.

Mr. Potter leaned forward and said, "I'm not going to tell your mother anything."

"She'll find out," Sirius miserably replied.

He clamped a hand over his mouth before scowling.

"No," Mr. Potter assuredly said, "She won't ever have to find out."

Sirius still looked uncertain.

"I promise," Mr. Potter continued, "I promise that she won't. Now, listen…I want to help you both. But I cannot do that unless you talk to me."

Sirius slowly lowered his hand.

"Sirius, no!" Regulus fearfully whispered.

"Do we have to go back there?" Sirius asked.

Mr. Potter's heart went out to the boy. His voice was so tiny; so fragile. Mr. Potter was reminded of the glass owl figurine that he had received for his birthday. It was beautiful and yet could break at any moment.

And the question itself…

Most children would ask if they could go back or when. And yet, Sirius was asking if they had to. Children only asked that if they were trying to avoid something. Do I have to finish my vegetables? Do I have to clean my room? Do I have to go home?

"If you don't want to," Mr. Potter slowly said, "Then I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don't. But only if you don't want to."

Sirius and Regulus glanced at one another.

POP!

Mr. Potter glanced behind him and saw that Kingsley was standing in the corridor.

"Now," Mr. Potter softly said, "I'm going to ask you a few questions. My friend is going to come in and listen, just to make sure that I don't miss anything. I'm getting on a bit and my hearing isn't what it used to be."

The boys' mouths twitched.

Kingsley entered and gave the boys a kind smile. He would serve as a witness to the interview. He had a piece of parchment and a quill hidden away in his bag. The quill would automatically write anything that was said.

"I'm not saying anything," Regulus spoke up.

"That's fine," Mr. Potter assuredly said, "You don't have to talk, right now. And Sirius, should you feel uncomfortable with any question, you simply need to tell me and we will move on. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Potter smiled at the formality and said, "Let's start with your full names."

"My name is Sirius Orion Black," Sirius whispered, "My brother's name is Regulus Arcturus Black."

"Very good," Mr. Potter praised, "How old are you?"

"Six," Sirius murmured, "Six and ten months."

"Your birthday is in October?" Mr. Potter asked, quickly doing the math.

Sirius nodded and replied, "October 22nd."

"What about Regulus?"

"His birthday is February 27th," Sirius replied, "He's five."

"Five and six months," Regulus corrected.

He then clamped a hand over his mouth.

"So," Mr. Potter declared, "You're one year and four months older than Regulus."

"I…I suppose," Sirius agreed.

"Very good," Mr. Potter praised, "Now…do you know your mother's name?"

"Walburga."

"Do you know your father's name?"

"Orion," Sirius grunted, "My middle name is his first name."

Mr. Potter made a mental note that Sirius sounded upset at the mention of his parents.

He gently pried, "Sirius, I brought you into the hospital because somebody hexed you with a very bad hex. Do you know what that hex is?"

Sirius stared at the white hospital blanket for a moment before whispering, "I…I can't say it, sir. It's illegal."

Mr. Potter smiled and gently said, "It's okay. I give you permission."

Sirius swallowed before mumbling, "They…they used the Cruciartus Curse."

The mere fact that a six-year-old would know what the Cruciartus Curse was was enough for a lump to form in Mr. Potter's throat.

"Yes, that's right," Mr. Potter softly said, "Who used the curse, Sirius?"

"They both did," Sirius shakily explained, "Mother and Father. I…I…"

He hesitated before whispering, "I broke a vase."

Regulus' head shot up.

"And they were mad," Sirius continued, "They were really mad."

Tears leapt up in his eyes and he croaked, "Can we stop?"

"Of course," Mr. Potter immediately replied.

He leapt to his feet and crossed the room, putting his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"Sirius," Mr. Potter gently said, "I want you to know that you did nothing wrong."

"But I…"

"Nothing you did warrants what they did."

"Huh?"

Mr. Potter thought about his words very carefully before saying, "Nobody should ever use the Cruciartus Curse…especially on a child…no matter what. Alright?"

Sirius nodded.

At that moment, John entered the room and quickly said, "Lieutenant Potter, Colonel Fudge is furious. He wants you to report to the office immediately."

Mr. Potter sighed and said, "Very well."

"You're leaving?" Sirius worriedly asked.

"I'm afraid so," Mr. Potter replied, "But don't worry. Kingsley will stay with you."

He glanced at his young ward, who gave a sharp nod in return.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Mr. Potter said, "In the meantime, try to get some rest."

"What about Regulus?" Sirius asked.

Mr. Potter turned to Regulus, who was staring at a spot on the floor.

"Regulus," Mr. Potter gently said, "You may stay here with your brother. However, I must ask that you stay in the room unless I say otherwise. Is that a deal?"

He silently nodded.

Mr. Potter and John ducked into the corridor.

John turned on the spot and Apparated away.

"Mr. Potter?"

Mr. Potter turned, shocked at the small voice.

Regulus was standing in the doorway of the room, looking exceptionally worried.

"Regulus, what's wrong?" Mr. Potter cried.

"May I come out?" Regulus whispered.

Mr. Potter chuckled and nodded.

The boy raced over to him. He then grabbed Mr. Potter's sleeve and dragged him down the corridor, much to the Auror's bemusement.

Mr. Potter crouched down and gently asked, "Regulus, what is it?"

His bottom lip quivered and he whispered, "I know that it's…it's bad to lie to Aurors."

"Yes, it is," Mr. Potter agreed.

Regulus sniffed. His lips and cheeks were becoming remarkably red. Mr. Potter immediately knew that he was about to cry.

"Sirius lied."

Mr. Potter blinked, shocked at Regulus' statement. He thought that Sirius had been quite honest with him. And now, Regulus was saying otherwise.

Mr. Potter opened his mouth to ask what he had lied about.

Regulus beat him to it.

"I was the one who broke the vase!" Regulus blurted out.

The tears immediately began to spill and his chest rose and fell.

Within seconds, the poor boy was sobbing.

"Hey," Mr. Potter gently said, "Hey."

He opened his arms and Regulus ran forward. Mr. Potter grunted as the child flung his arms around his neck and rested his chin on his bony shoulder. Mr. Potter folded his arms around the crying boy and tightly hugged him.

"I was playing!" Regulus bawled, "I was pretending that…I…was…a Quidditch player…and…and I wasn't looking…and…and I ran right into it!"

"Sssh," Mr. Potter murmured, "It's okay. Don't cry, Regulus. Please, don't…"

"And…it…it wobbled back and forth," Regulus wailed, "I thought that it wasn't going to fall…b…but it did! It fell to the floor and smashed into a million pieces! S…Sirius came running and…and then so did my parents…but Sirius got there first."

Mr. Potter continued to hold him and murmur words of comfort.

Regulus took several deep breaths before miserably finishing, "Sirius took the blame. He told them that he was the one who broke it. A…and then they…"

The tears escalated once more and he blubbered, "It's my fault."

"No…" Mr. Potter whispered, "This isn't your fault…"

He released Regulus and took his handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped the boy's eyes and held it over his nose until he blew. The poor boy was a wreck. Mr. Potter couldn't blame him. Sirius had taken the blame for something that he had done, and had ended up facing severe consequences for it. And yet…

"Regulus, listen to me," Mr. Potter gently said, "This is not your fault. Your parents did a very bad thing to Sirius. It's their fault that he's in the hospital."

He internally kicked himself. He normally never liked bashing parents in front of children, even if the parents were truly horrid.

Regulus wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and muttered, "He's going to hate me."

"No, he won't," Mr. Potter promised.

"Yes, he will!" Regulus insisted.

Mr. Potter gave him a warm smile and said, "Listen…Sirius loves you. It's obvious that he loves you. You were the first person that he asked for when he woke up."

"Really?" Regulus asked.

"Really."

Regulus' face broke out into a smile.

"Do you need anything else before I go?" Mr. Potter asked.

Regulus thought about it for a moment before embarrassedly whispering, "Can you sing that song again?"

Mr. Potter smiled and said, "Of course."

He took Regulus back into the room.

Sirius was sleepily laughing at Kingsley's joke.

"Do you boys know any jokes?" Kingsley asked.

"Tons," Sirius eagerly replied.

"Too bad Mother and Father don't like them," Regulus muttered.

Sirius briefly frowned before saying, "Well…Mother and Father aren't here!"

He glanced at Mr. Potter and asked, "What do the house-elves learn at Hogwarts?"

"I don't know," Mr. Potter amusedly said.

Sirius grinned and cried, "The elf-abet."

Mr. Potter and Kingsley both let out a hearty laugh.

Even Regulus looked considerably happier.

He climbed onto the bed and snuggled up next to his brother.

Mr. Potter warmly smiled at them and sang:

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Hush now don't you cry…