A/N: So I think I'm going to be updating every day, because I have nothing else to do. Remember, this story is pretty T-Rated but will get darker as it goes on. Here's another short chapter that I hope you enjoy. Reviews are ever-helpful.
Warnings: Dark Themes, Insinuations of Abuse, Incest, Rape.
Sirius sat three metres in the air, straddling a broom. He held a large, red Quaffle to his chest and was clutching the broom tightly with his thighs to keep his balance. "Alright Reg, this time I'm gonna throw it away from you and you have to fly to catch it."
Reg frowned in response. "I can fly, Siri. I can catch. I can not do both." He gripped his broom with both hands, not nearly as capable as his older brother. "I'm not some kind of wonder man!"
Sirius looked back at his brother incredulously. "You are honestly the most dramatic person I know." He propelled the ball, from his chest, into the empty air, just to the right of his brother. Regulus' eyes went wide at the sudden assault and quickly dived for the ball, crashing into the grass when he couldn't pull up in time.
He looked up to his older brother who was howling with laughter. "Reg, oh Merlin-" He collapsed into another fit of giggles. Regulus, deciding that now would be a good time to shut his brother up, grasped the ball from a bush beside him and lobbed it at his brother.
"Hey!" Sirius rubbed his now sore forehead. "What are you trying to do, murder me?"
Regulus narrowed his eyes as he bent to pick up his broom. "And you call me dramatic," he said as he attempted to straighten out the twigs in the tail of his broom.
Sirius chuckled at his brother's chagrin before he saw his Mother walk out, into the garden. His laughter ceased and he flew down and dismounted his broom to stand next to Regulus.
"By Merlin. Look at the two of you." Walburga's look alone made it clear that she wasn't impressed with the state they were in and her tone certainly held no jovial boys will be boys attitude. "Get upstairs and straighten yourselves out. We'll be leaving for your Aunt and Uncle's soon enough."
Sirius immediately asked the same question he asked every time they were to visit their Aunt and Uncle. "Prewett or Black?"
"Black, of course," she said with an arched brow, almost challenging him.
Sirius' shoulders deflated instantly. He closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the psychological battle field that was coming for him, later. He much preferred Aunt Lucretia, however brutally honest she may be, to the quietly cynical Aunt Druella. As for his Uncle Ignatius, he could be any man he wished, a mass murderer even, and Sirius would still feel safer than he did in the company of Uncle Cygnus.
He was broken out of his reverie by his mother's harsh voice. "What are you two waiting for? Upstairs. Now." She said, emphasising the point with clapped hands.
Sirius and Regulus chorused a practised "Yes Mother" before dropping their brooms and walking back through door, followed closely by Walburga.
They took off their boots in the utility room that Kreacher usually inhabited. With now, just sock clad feet they walked through the kitchen, into the entrance hall, and up two flights of stairs before turning into Sirius' room.
Sirius shut the door behind the both of them and lent against it, letting out a breath.
Reg eyed him, both of them aware of what the other was thinking. Sirius shook his head. "I hate Uncle Cygnus."
"Me too." Reg walked over to Sirius' bed, picking up a hairbrush from the dresser as he went, sat himself on the bed and started combing out the knots in his hair that flying had left behind.
Sirius walked to the mirror, started retying his tie and adjusting his shirt sleeves whilst he studied his reflection in thought. It's not as though Uncle Cygnus had ever given Sirius reason enough to dislike him. He had never outwardly proven any sort of perversion, and yet Sirius was hard-pressed to recall any situation in which he'd been smiled at by the man or comforted at all. In fact, thinking very hard, Sirius could not for the life of him remember a single time where anyone in the family had been pleased to be in Uncle Cygnus' presence. Father's face always held a look of clear contempt for the man and Mother just seemed to avoid her brother's eye completely. But Sirius supposed, with the looks Cygnus had given him, he couldn't blame her.
"Does he ever just give you one of those looks...?" Sirius asked hesitantly.
"... like he's going to kill you?" Regulus finished from where he sat on the bed, the hair brush now stationary in his lap. "Yeah, every time 'Meda reads to me."
Sirius looked at his brother, all thoughts of failing to catch a Quaffle, banished. Sirius hated having to remember his family was what it was. "Reg, he's never... ?" He left the question to hang in the air, a thousand unspoken scandals hanging with it.
Reg shook his head straight away. "No, no. 'Course not." He said softly through the denseness around them, the air suddenly heavy with trepidation.
Sirius nodded his relief. "Good." He hastily looked for a subject change. "Come on then. Go and get your cloak and we'll go down."
Reg got up from the bed and trotted away happily, as if their conversation hadn't happened.
