Summer vacation between Regulus's 6th year and 7th year

Regulus had come to a decision, and his decision was to result in him experiencing the feeling his brother knew so well - parental disappointment and disapproval.

Walburga and Orion managed to be polite enough, at first. It might have been denial, or it might have been the fact that the half-blood Regulus brought home had already spent several summers apprenticing under Abraxas Malfoy, and so they felt like they had to try harder than they otherwise would have. They said nothing about his robes, or about where he had hailed from, or about his parentage. Regulus only started to worry when he realized his mother had been eyeing the tapestry of the Black Family Tree every other minute.

"Regulus, dear, will you help me in the kitchen?" She beckoned. She had not set foot in the kitchen in a very long time.

"What is the nature of your relationship with our… guest?" She inquired.

"He is my friend, that is all," Regulus said, knowing he was very unconvincing.

"You have never brought a friend here before, Regulus. Do not lie to your mother."

He was not used to disappointing his parents, and he was not accomplished at lying to them. He said nothing. "You have spent a lot of money on that friend," she insinuated. She knew about that?

Regulus was caught off guard, and all he could think to do was to deny everything and return to the dining room. His furious mother followed him.

Orion excused himself - he always did when his wife had that look, but this was the first time it was his second-born who had caused it.

"Regulus Arcturus Black , you are behaving like a common wizard. You have responsibilities to your kind, are you forgetting that?" She started.

Severus was confused - what on earth was she talking about?

"I have not forgotten, mother," Regulus said softly, with his eyes cast down.

"We have already been disgraced once, Regulus. We will not be disgraced by you as well."

Disgraced? The word echoed in Severus's mind.

When she felt she had her son good and frightened, she continued: "Believe me, I understand you. Hogwarts is a boarding school, and it is natural to have urges ", she said, looking at Severus with thinly-veiled disgust. "Your father certainly had proclivities."

Severus's heart started to thump, shame mixed with rage stirred deep in his belly, as the woman who inflicted Sirius Black upon the world dared to continue speaking. "I understand that you have a certain - ah - fascination with his sort. But when the time comes to settle down, and it will come soon, you are expected to let go of this childish fantasy and marry someone of your background. Do you understand?"

Proclivities. Childish fantasy. Urges.

Regulus sat in stunned silence. Sirius was turning out to be more vital to a healthy family life than anyone would have guessed. Severus was too stung to see that Regulus was not quiet because he accepted his mother's judgement, but because he was too shocked. "Don't worry," he hissed. "I have no interest in being a Black's plaything." Again, he wondered why he ever volunteered to have anything to do with that family. "And your other son is much more disgraceful than you know, pure as his blood may be. Goodbye," he said, stood up, pushed his chair back and left.

Regulus only snapped out of his shock when he heard the door slam shut. "What are you talking about?" He asked, earnestly. "He is twice the wizard I am, four times the wizard Sirius is, he does things no one else can do."

"Do not talk about the shame of my flesh, Regulus!" She yelled. It was frightening. "Running around with the blood traitor Potter, cozying up to your crackpot headmaster! Are you taking after him?"

Regulus tried in vain to reason with her. "Don't make me laugh, he is a joke, if you knew the company he keeps!"

"Sirius did not bring mongrels from the Moors into the house of my fathers!" She shrieked.

"Aren't you listening to me? This mongrel is the most powerful wizard I've met, even the Malfoys see that, why can't you?"

She suddenly softened. "It is not about magical power, Regulus. Have we not raised you better than that? People like him can yield great power, and they can certainly work for us - but the Black name-"

"What about it?!"

"Toujour pur, Regulus, or have you forgotten?"

Children. She is talking about children. "You're joking," Regulus mumbled in disbelief. "He and I could not make half-blood children with all the magic in the world. The Dark Lord could not do that."

She looked at the tapestry, furiously. Sirius and Andromeda had already been burned off; only Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Regulus were still on it.

"Why can't you be more like Bellatrix?" She shouted. "She married Rodolphus LeStrange, just like her parents had always planned for her! Your father and I never imagined we would have to make arrangements for you!"

Regulus started laughing. "Dolph is an idiot, they've been married for four years and have not made a single pureblood child, are you barking?"

"Only because they have dedicated themselves to fighting for the Dark Lord!"

"So power is more important than making pureblood children when it's Bellatrix and Dolph? Dolph, who is so thick his parents had to buy Hogwarts a new wing so he would pass his second year? Do you know they all called him Rodoltus LeStrange in our dorms?"

"The LeStranges are a respectable wizarding family, they are noble stock! Marriage is about power and tradition, Regulus, not night-time romps with mangy, grubby, no name half-bloods who only want your money!" She screamed, a vein in her neck threatening to burst.

Regulus found himself shouting back. "He is NOT a mangy, grubby half blood who only wants my money!" A crystal goblet shattered in an unbecoming fit of accidental magic.

"He is the best wizard at the school, I love him, and I am lucky I know him!" He roared, and he realized that at some point in his speech, he stood up without noticing and buried his fist in the oak table. Walburga approached him, looking threatening although she was shorter than him, and slapped her second oldest son for the first time. Severus, who'd been waiting outside, hoping for Regulus to come after him, stormed back inside. He had never loved Regulus more. And she hurt him.

Regulus's hand was on his burning cheek and his eyes glistened.

"The next time you see me, the Dark Lord will have given me the Dark Mark, and we shall see if mongrels from the Moors only want your precious money," he said in a near-whisper.

"The Dark Lord marking a half-blood?!" She cried out, scandalized at the very thought. "May I drop dead on the spot!"

The woman who birthed Sirius and slapped Regulus? Severus welcomed the prospect of her dying on the spot, very much.

"I will be back, with the Mark, and I will not bother you or your money until then," he promised her. "But if you ever lay a hand on him again, you will never forget it." With those words, he left without looking back, slamming the door shut behind him without using his hands or his wands.

Walburga allowed herself to feel relieved. Her problem had solved itself - the half-blood had left, and he was not coming back without the Mark, meaning he was unlikely to ever come back, unless, of course, he was not true to his word… but that was a problem for another day, and she hoped some time apart would help Regulus return to his senses before he made a mistake he could not take back. She had a son to think about, and pleased as she was - he was clearly hurt.

Kreacher always took to Regulus, and he always knew how to calm him down when he cried, as a child, as he witnessed his parents' increasingly desperate attempts to mould their eldest into a respectable wizard. She summoned him, and the house elf bowed. "Make Regulus a cup of tea, please," she ordered.

"Kreacher is happy to make tea for young Master Regulus!" The elf announced, and left promptly to fulfill the request.

Regulus appeared ashamed of himself. It was painful, but necessary. The future of the Black legacy rested on his shoulders - he had to learn, and the sooner the better, his mother felt. Her son, more handsome by the day, destined to marry well and bring honor to his house, sat very stiffly at the table, his eyes fixed on the floor, both cheeks red but one more so than the other. He seemed lost in thought. Good, she told herself. He has not lost every ounce of sense yet like the rotten fruit of the family tree.

Kreacher returned with the tea, made just as Regulus liked it. "Thank you, Kreacher," he whispered softly.

"I hope that is the last we have seen of your friend . To be perfectly sincere, I am glad, Regulus, you have been spared more pain. You will thank me, soon, when you will have decided to marry a respectable witch and let go of youthful indiscretions. That display was pitiful, wasn't it? Shouting at his hosts, bursting out in the middle of the dinner, listening at the door, telling me how to raise my child, fantasizing that he has what it requires to bear the Mark. He is not without talent, but he will never advance beyond being the Malfoys' apprentice with manners like these!"

Regulus's mind was swimming. He knew his parents would not approve of his choice of partner - but he did not expect to reveal it just yet. Once more, he cursed himself for his stupidity - of course they kept track of his vault. Of course they realized that if he brought anybody home, that person was important. All he wanted was for them to get to know him before making their decision - he was sure, positive, absolutely convinced, that if they had known what he could do, they would have accepted him. But he was wrong, and Severus was gone until further notice. Regulus knew him well enough to know he would not come back without the Mark, and he had no idea what it took to earn it, or indeed, if half-bloods could earn it. His only hope was that the Dark Lord would be able to recognize power when power was in front of him. Why must he always be so proud, why must he have taken it upon himself to wager everything on the Mark? Regulus complained to himself in silence. On top of it all - his mother had slapped him. It only happened to Sirius a couple of times and in each of those times, he had gone out of his way to demonstrate his contempt for his family and defy them. Plastering pictures of Muggle girls on the walls of his room, for example, and putting a permanent sticking charm on them. Regulus did not feel like he was being nearly as defiant - as obnoxious - yet he earned punishment, anyway. Ever since the dog left, it had gotten harder and harder to pacify his parents - before, he could do no wrong, but now he was under a magnifying glass, and he did not appreciate it. Even as he struggled to make sense of what just happened, the thought of the many scars on Severus's back invaded his mind and he felt ashamed of being upset at all. His mother's words barely registered - all he knew was that they were vile, and wrong. He also knew it best to pretend to agree with her - there was nothing to be gained from fighting now.

"Yes, mother," he said. She smiled at him. "May I be excused?" He asked.

"Of course, my dear."

He went upstairs to his room and brooded. As usual, he blamed his brother. All his life, he took his cue from Sirius - whatever he did, Regulus did the opposite, and it always worked out in his favor. So why, why, why did Sirius ever have to hate a penniless no-name half-blood so much, despise him enough to want him dead, loathe him more than anything in the world? What choice did he leave me? Miserable as he was, he could not help but to be grateful for Sirius's inexplicable hatred at the same time.

Severus stormed out of the Black family home, having realized that Regulus was the exception to the rule in terms of how much love he could expect from them. He was not surprised, exactly - it was just that Regulus never had anything bad to say about his parents, really. But he was aware of how the purebloods felt about him, in general. He had shared a dorm room with them, had he not? They did not hate him because he existed , not all of them were as sadistic as Potter. They did not try to kill him, either - not all of them were as psychotic as Black ( Sirius , he corrected himself. He still had a hard time with the fact that Regulus was his brother). But out of all of them, only Lucius had ever offered him civility, kindness even, and opportunity; only Regulus ever loved him. The others demanded that he prove himself before deeming him worthy of respect. His association with Lily did not help things, and his mother's blood did not protect him from the consequences of being seen with her. Thankfully, his dorm mates did not have a Gryffindor temper, or he would not have survived, but he could never call them his friends either.

It used to feel paradoxical to him, that Lucius was different - but when he saw the Malfoy Manor for the first time, he understood it perfectly. Lucius had nothing to prove to anyone. The others were pure, but not that pure, and while they were richer than Severus, that was not saying much at all. Nobody was richer than Malfoy. Before Lucius graduated, he had already taught Severus how to comport himself, and by the time he returned home for the summer for the first time his accent was already different - the Muggle did not like that - everything about him was different, but still not quite good enough. To earn his place among them, he would have had to give up on Lily, and pretend to believe things that were simply false. For example, that Dolph was a better wizard than her when she was capable of unassisted flight at age nine and he had produced his most successful jelly-legs curse when he accidentally aimed his wand the wrong way, and ended up casting it on himself.

Lily had solved one problem for him, or rather, he had solved his Lily problem for himself. He still regretted it, but it was an old pain now. He no longer felt like someone had just ripped his heart out of his chest - Regulus helped there - but he still hadn't fully accepted that he'll never see her again now that they've graduated, that she cared so little she went with Potter (another wizard who had nothing to prove in terms of pedigree, so of course he could be seen with her with impunity). He quickly reminded himself not to think too hard about that day, because what followed still made his blood run cold - the mockery still rang in his ears. But the reminder failed, because Walburga Black had just disrespected him enough to prime every nerve in his body to feel humiliated and violated. He sat on a nearby bench, his fury now intermingled with hurt he could not put in words. When it had happened, he was already shocked with himself for having called Lily that name. He had no will to defend himself, and he did not even try to stop it. Not that there was anything he could have done - levicorpus was too strong. James looked him in the eyes before he did it, and Severus could remember his furious expression as if it was yesterday. When he thought about it, his own face went numb, and he could not remember what he thought, at that moment, if anything. Before he knew what was happening, it was already too late. And now, he'd been made to feel lower than dirt again. Reg was the only one who could restore his dignity, and she had called it "night-time romps" . He could take being called a Mongrel from the Moors - it was accurate, was it not? - but to reduce him to that, to say everything Regulus had done for him was out of urges… to think every wizard alive is so impressed with the sacred name of Black that they would just agree to be a Black's toy, for no reason. That Reg did not love me when he learned legilimency for me. That he did not trust me enough to let me push him off the roof, knowing that I'll never let him hit the ground. She was foul, as foul as her eldest, and she had laid her dirty, filthy hand on Regulus, the one and only pure thing in his life.

You are not dirt, he told himself. He stood up to her, for you. He said he was lucky. Pride was a painful thing to have, for Mongrels from the Moors, but the purest pureblood in London and possibly in the world said he was lucky to have Severus, and Severus felt like it had to mean something - he had to be worth something. When the foul woman dared to lay her hand on the beautiful, benevolent child she had somehow produced, it was no longer just his injured pride, but a protective instinct he did not know he had. As soon as it came, it was overwhelming, and impossible to contain. He'd actually threatened her. Sadly, it also made him do something incredibly stupid and wager everything on being able to earn the Dark Mark, and he realized he had no idea if this was possible, much less if it was well-advised. He also had no idea where he would sleep. The thought of Spinner's End was too bleak and he had just evicted himself out of Regulus's flat. He decided he might as well start working on his promise to Walburga and apparated himself to the Malfoy Manor.