A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Writing Club prompts are listed below. :)

Back to School: (word) question

Word Count: 747

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.

Thanks to Lucy for beta'ing!

Enjoy!

Nine-year-old Regulus Black stood in front of the door to his brother's room, his bare feet aching from the cold floor. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, and he lifted his small fist to knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Regulus entered the room, trying not to be intimidated by the shadows that decorated the walls. Regulus tiptoed towards the bed at the far side of the room, where his older brother slept huddled in the duvet.

Regulus gently shook his brother's shoulder. "Sirius," he whispered. "Sirius, wake up."

There was a muffled groan, and then Sirius' head poked above the duvet, his hair a mess and his eyes half-open. "Hmm? Reg, what're you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Regulus admitted softly. "Can I come sleep with you?"

Seeing as all the beds in the house were much too large for one person, Sirius mumbled his consent. Regulus climbed over his brother and then snuggled in beside him. Sirius lowered his head back onto the pillow, but Regulus kept him awake.

"I have a question for you."

Sirius frowned grumpily. "What?"

Regulus looked at his brother carefully. "Why do you keep making Mother and Father angry? Don't you want them to be happy with you?"

Sirius' grey eyes, though Regulus could barely see them through the darkness, grew guarded. "Go back to sleep, Reg."

"But—"

"Go back to sleep!"

Regulus shrank away from his brother, eyes filling with tears. He just didn't understand it; Sirius seemed so angry with everyone lately. After a minute of sniffling, Sirius rolled back towards his younger brother, guilt written all over his face.

"Aw, don't cry, Reg. I'm sorry, I just… it's been a long day." Sirius sighed. "I guess… when you get older, you'll understand."

Regulus pouted. "That's not a good answer."

Sirius frowned, but this time it was because he was thinking. He reached over Regulus and grabbed the rose he had plucked from their mother's garden that hot summer evening, which had caused a shouting match. He plucked four of the petals off.

"This is you, me, Mother, and Father," he explained. He held up the rest of the rose. "This is the world we live in. Mother and Father think that we are the best, so live at the top of the world." Sirius placed two of the pale pink petals on top of the flower. "They think that everyone else—Muggles, Squibs, half-bloods—are the thorns in the world; that they can only make it an uglier, more painful place." Sirius pricked his finger on a thorn, drawing a pinprick of blood. "But the world needs balance," Sirius continued, "and the key to that is having both good and bad things in the world. Look," Sirius whispered, pulling off a thorn. "If we remove the Muggles, we'll hurt the world."

It was true; the flower had a raw spot on its stem; Regulus frowned. But Sirius wasn't done.

"You see, our parents think that the purebloods are the beautiful petals. But—" Sirius took the petals off the top of the flower; they were brown about the edges. "—their beauty is just an illusion. They still wilt, but the thorns protect until the flower dies."

Regulus looked at the torn apart flower; it just looked broken to him. "Mother says that Muggles aren't as good as wizards."

Sirius shook his head. "She's wrong. They're just as good."

Regulus scowled. "That's why you keep getting in trouble. You don't listen. Mother says they're disgusting."

Sirius' eyes flashed. "They're not! Our parents want to control every bit of our lives—they make us learn those stupid languages, and learn out of those disgusting pureblood books, and we can't get dirty or have fun—"

"Those things are fun," Regulus interrupted, reciting what he'd been taught his whole life.

Sirius fell silent. "I'm listening to them—mostly—for now. Once I get to Hogwarts… things will be different. I won't have to be their perfect son anymore."

Regulus frowned. "Don't you want to be a good son?"

Sirius looked his younger brother straight in the eye. "I want to be a good son to good parents."

Before Regulus could respond, Sirius had rolled over to face the other direction. "Good night, Regulus."

"But—"

"We can talk in the morning. Now, for the last time, go to sleep!"

Regulus burrowed under the duvet, but he couldn't sleep. He'd come here hoping for an answer to his question. Now, he had a million more.

A/N: Writing Club Prompts:

Disney Challenge: (dialogue) "Now, for the last time, go to sleep!"

Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair: Pureblood Traditions

Showtime: All I Ask of You — (season) summer

Amber's Attic: Speak because your voice is currency. And their comfort is not worth your silence.

Lyric Alley: You play the game, though it's unfair

Ami's Audio Admirations: The King of Keys — (word) key

Angel's Arcade: Amy Rose — (object) roses, (color) pale pink, (trait) sweet

Lo's Lowdown: Aang — (word) balance

Film Festival: (plot point) siblings fighting