Midday, rang in by the regal, magically-amplified chimes of Noire House's antique grandfather clock, found the members of the extended Black family lined up before the great entrance hall fireplace, ready to bid farewell to the family of four as they departed for Grimmauld Place at the end of their summer holiday.
Sirius, curiously lacking in his traditional end-of-holiday expression of misery as he muttered his obligatory goodbyes to his relatives, clutched firmly at the strap of his new satchel which rested against his hip.
"Blasted elves'' Arcturus growled as he shook his head at the sight of his grandson's unsightly burden. "I'd expressly ordered for all the luggage to be transported back to London first thing this morning. I might have to consider acquiring some younger stock, this lot seem to be going deaf in their old age!"
"It wasn't their fault!" Sirius piped up hurriedly. "I just- wanted to keep this with me, is all"
Arcturus shot his grandson a curious, if slightly suspicious look.
The boy did not flinch in response. He stood firm, his determined eyes locked firmly with his grandfather's, as he tightened his grip on his satchel.
"He'll not be parted from it" said Walburga, her disapproval evident in her voice. "He's scarcely put that satchel down since he acquired it. He simply refuses take it off"
"Quite right too" Alphard chipped in, proudly. "Highest quality Peruvian vipertooth dragonhide, that satchel is. Such a fine bag ought to warrant careful handling"
He shot his young nephew a knowing look.
Sirius smiled back.
"Then why you saw fit to bestow it upon Sirius Orion, I cannot understand" Walburga arched a critical eyebrow at her youngest brother.
Sirius scowled deeply as the adults around him shared a chuckle at his expense, but clenched his jaw shut in forced silence, lest his mother decide to force him to part from his new satchel and its precious cargo after all.
"And what of you, young Regulus?" The younger of Alphard's nephews jumped a little at the surprise of being spoken to. "Is that fine fang of yours lurking in your cloak pocket?"
Regulus swallowed nervously before giving his head a timid shake.
"N-no, Uncle" he stammered out. "It's… I-"
"Reg wanted me to keep it safe in here for him" Sirius jumped in, patting his satchel. "With it being so precious, and all"
The younger boy visibly relaxed as his elder brother saved him from having to tell a fib. For the truth of the matter was that the acromantula fang his uncle had gifted him not twenty-four hours earlier had been reduced to little more than a mangled mess of teeth marks and dog saliva by the ever-curious cruppie. It now lay discarded at the bottom of the satchel, ruined, not fit to be displayed on any shelf.
"That's not what I would call it" Walburga quipped, frowning. "Really, Alphard, what came over you? Giving such a beastly thing to a child? I've a good mind to confiscate it"
Both boys froze with alarm. How would they possibly explain the state of the fang to their mother?
"Relax, Burgie," Alphard gave his sister a playful nudge. "I've told you already, it is quite harmless. Do you really think so little of me that you'd believe I would give my nephews anything that might harm them?"
"Truly, Alphard, at times I don't know precisely what I think of you" Walburga scolded, but with no true malice in her words. "In any case, I'd rather you'd consulted me beforehand"
"Then I'll be sure to send an owl with a request for your full list of approved gifts before I start my Christmas shopping"
"Oh? Am I to take that as a suggestion that you intend to indulge us with your presence this year?" Pollux's tone left no illusion to the fact that he was still irked with the youngest of his offspring for having excused himself from last year's festive celebrations at the last moment, owing to an unexpectedly vibrant appearance of the Aurora Borealis in the frozen wasteland of the Russian far-north, where Alphard had spent several weeks observing the traditions of the nomadic magical communities of the region in the hope of one day witnessing a rare magical ritual which depended entirely on the appearance and strength of the northern lights.
"Opportunity of a lifetime. Simply cannot be missed. Regards to all. A.", was the sparse, snow-stained note delivered to Grimmauld Place in the claws of a Siberian eagle owl halfway through the family's traditional Christmas Eve party, thoroughly ruining the mood of the evening.
Irma and Pollux Black's remarkable ability to brush aside the antics of their youngest child had long been the subject of many gossip circles. But his sudden failure to return home for Christmas had proven to be one step too far.
Alphard, seemingly undeterred by his father's icy tone, gave a typical care-free smile.
"Naturally. Beautiful and awe-some as Siberia was, it does rather have a way of making one feel rather isolated, particularly at Christmastime. I shan't be making a habit of missing the festivities in future"
Pollux's moustache twitched, but he did not fall under the spell of his son's charm.
"Your mother will be relieved to hear it," he replied, coldly.
Orion, never known for his fondness for small talk, cleared his throat impatiently.
"We ought to be on our way," he announced before turning to Arcturus. "Goodbye, Father. I'll have the season's final game accounts owled to you before the end of the week"
Arcturus muttered his gruff approval, sharing a stiff handshake with his son by way of farewell.
After another tedious round of final goodbyes, the two young boys were ushered into the great, marble fireplace by their mother. Walburga pulled each of their travelling cloaks tight around their shoulders in an attempt to shield their robes from the ash which swirled up around them as Orion commanded the fireplace to transport them home.
"Leave off!"
Sirius chose precisely the wrong moment to try and jerk himself free of his mother's grip. As the blindingly green flames enveloped them, he felt a horrible surge of dizziness wash over him as he was swept up in the whooshing sensation of the magic carrying him back to London before he was ready.
As the disappointingly-familiar sight of the Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place drawing room appeared before him, Sirius lost all sense of balance and fell forwards, out of the fireplace and face-first onto the plush Persian rug.
Groaning, he lifted his head and glanced around at the still-spinning drawing room. It was dark, the summer sunshine banished behind the heavy, velvet curtains which were kept almost permanently closed at his mother's insistence.
Sirius felt his mood droop instantly in the gloomy darkness of the room. Yes, they were indeed home again.
"Sirius Orion!"
Walburga hauled her son back to his feet by the sleeve of his robes. Sirius's hand instantly darted to the flap of his satchel, breathing a sigh of relief when he found the latch still securely shut. "For goodness' sake, how many times must I tell you to hold still whilst Flooing?"
"I'm fine!" Sirius spluttered, coughing from the coal dust which swirled around him after his fall. He attempted to struggle away as his mother as she furiously patted at his dusty cloak.
Walburga gave him a firm warning shake for his trouble.
"Hold still" she scolded. With one arm still firmly gripped around her son's arm, she took out her wand in her other hand and with a firm flick, the candles of the room came to life, bathing the room in their flickering, orange glow. In the renewed light of the room, Walburga peered closely at the ash-smudged fabric of Sirius's robes, shaking her head in dissatisfaction. "You'll have to change out of those robes immediately. You've gotten them absolutely filthy"
Sirius glanced down at the minute black marks on his clothes. Hardly what he would call filthy, but for once he had no desire to argue.
"I'll do it now" he said hurriedly, not bothering to wait to be properly dismissed before he turned and ran for the door, his satchel swinging at his side.
"Don't run!" Walburga called after him, but the sternness in her voice was ever-so-slightly softened by her elder son's curious lack of argument - the likes of which he was often so brimming with after having been scolded for dirtying his clothes.
The sound of Sirius's thundering footsteps slowed a fraction, only to speed up not a few moments later - followed by what was clearly the sound of him tripping on a step in his haste before he continued his scramble upstairs.
Walburga let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head in dismay as she turned her attention to her younger son.
"How curiously unlike Sirius Orion to be in such a hurry to get cleaned up" she mused to herself as she subjected Regulus to the thorough post-Flooing inspection of his own robes. Ever the good, obedient boy, he submitted fully to his mother's prodding. "At least one of you is able to conduct yourself properly whilst travelling"
A timid smile crept across Regulus's face. He felt a warm feeling rise within him as his mother gave him an approving nod.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake…"
At the sound of Orion's irked tone, both his wife and son's attentions were drawn towards where he stood, bathed in a pool of light through the open window which neither of them had noticed him silently cross over to, reading a just-delivered letter.
"What is it?" Walburga asked her husband, striding over to stand beside him.
Neither told to follow nor formally dismissed, Regulus remained fixed to his spot before the fireplace.
"It's from the boys' governess" said Orion, frowning down at the cheap quality parchment in his hand, the writing bathed in the chink of light allowed into the room by the slight gap in the curtains. "She asks our permission for two more days' leave"
"Two more days?!" The sharp annoyance in his mother's voice made Regulus flinch. "Absolutely not. She's had three weeks' leave whilst we've been in Suffolk already, it's long-past time that lazy girl returned to her duties"
"She says her father is ill," said Orion, his monotone voice devoid of sympathy. "She says she must stay longer in Devon and help her mother tend him"
Walburga wrinkled her nose in distaste, as she always did whenever forced to confront the lesser side of her half-blood employee's heritage.
"Then they ought to call for a Healer to care for him. That is their job is it not?" A moment later, her grimace slackened into a faint smile with the merest trace of amusement. "Or have Muggles not reached that advancement in medicinal practice, yet?"
Regulus felt a pang of sympathy for Ida, his governess. Though only a half-blood, Regulus thought her magical abilities quite extraordinary. The display of shimmering, silvery-blue butterflies which she would send forth from her wand when he was feeling down never failed to make him smile. Even Sirius was fond of Ida, far more so since she had shown him her trick for conjuring a rain cloud which would linger relentlessly above a victim's head. He had vowed to master the trick as soon as he acquired his own wand - and get his revenge for her having demonstrated the prank on him.
Regulus wondered if his mother and father might be a little nicer to Ida if they knew what remarkable, fun things she could do with magic. But since Ida herself had made him promise never to reveal these tricks to either of his parents, he supposed that they'd have to be allowed to continue in their ignorance of her talents.
"I'll allow her two more days, but no more," Orion concluded.
"She ought to have given us more notice" Walburga shot back, undeterred. "We expected her back today! We are quite unprepared"
"The boys have been without the girl for three weeks already. Two more days ought not to make much difference" said Orion, folding the letter and pocketing it.
Walburga, who's longing eyes followed the letter she had still not read for herself, frowned in disapproval.
"That's well enough for you to say" she retorted, folding her arms. "When it is I who will have to fill her place and see to the boys in the meantime"
"I'm quite sure you'll manage perfectly well" There was a slight, knowing glimmer in Orion's eyes as he dealt his wife a fleeting glance before he turned away, heading for the door. "I'll be in my study"
"Tea will be served at four" Walburga called after him, with an obvious note of annoyance.
He offered no reply.
As her husband left the room, Walburga at last turned her attention to Regulus, still standing by the fireplace where he had been left, meek and silent as a dormouse.
"Go upstairs, Regulus," his mother said. "You and your brother may play for the afternoon - quietly. I will send Kreacher up to check on you both in a little while"
"Yes, Mama" Regulus squeaked dutifully.
Satisfied, Walburga pressed a hand to his shoulder and shooed him in the direction of the door.
Hurrying up the staircase as quickly as he could without breaking into a run, Regulus paused outside his brother's bedroom door and rapped his knuckles anxiously onto the wood.
"Go away!" came Sirius's hurried voice from inside. "Leave me alone"
"Sirius!" Regulus whispered, his eyes darting about in case Kreacher should be lurking nearby. "It's me!"
"Oh. Fine, you can come in"
Usually when Regulus entered his brother's bedroom, his first instinct was to frown at the sight of the clothes, toys and books which were always strewn across the floor. The constant untidy state of Sirius's room had long been a source of scolding from their guardians - and a spark worthy of igniting a furious backlash from the boy who so hated having to tidy it.
But today, the sight of Sirius sitting cross-legged on the floor at the foot of his bed (still in his sooty clothes) with his fugitive cruppie released from the confines of the now-discarded satchel and bounding around him excitedly was far more distracting from the mess that surrounded them.
"Sorry" said Sirius, too distracted by the pup's antics to look up at Regulus. "Thought you might be Kreacher"
"I expect he's still busy unpacking the trunks," said Regulus, gingerly sitting himself down opposite Sirius and hoping the crup wouldn't suddenly make a lunge at him. "I didn't see him on my way upstairs"
"Good" Sirius replied, stroking a hand down the pup's back. "The old cretin should leave us alone for a while, then"
Regulus frowned. He disliked the way his brother often spoke about their family house elf, but the risk of the onset of one of Sirius's stormy moods was too great to risk telling him he ought to be kinder to Kreacher.
Between the two boys, the little dog ambled about, panting heavily.
"Is he always going to be this… energetic?" Regulus asked warily as the cruppie bounded towards him with his forked tail lashing excitedly. He flinched away as the pup jumped upward, his sharp puppy teeth snapping at his hand playfully.
"I don't think so," said Sirius, a slight waver in his voice. He patted the floor next to him, sending the little dog bounding back to his side, giving Regulus the space to sit himself down, cross-legged on the floor. "I expect he's just excited to be out of the satchel now that we're home. It must get rather dull being cooped up in there after a while. He'll calm down soon, I bet"
"I suppose so…"
Sirius, who had been happily letting the cruppie chase and pounce on his hand, shot his brother a sharp look.
"What is it?" he demanded, his eyes darkening.
"Nothing" Regulus replied - too fast to be convincing, least of all to his own brother. He quickly looked away - another tell-tale sign.
"You're lying" Regulus flushed at Sirius's accusation. "Tell me what it is, Reg"
"Well…" Regulus wrung his hands in his lap. "It's just- What exactly is the plan now? With the cruppie. You know Mama and Papa won't let you keep him"
Sirius's gaze was fixed firmly on the puppy chewing on his finger. His forked black-and-white tail thumped against the floorboard.
"Sirius?" Regulus prompted, unnerved by his brother's silence. "You know they won't. You heard what Papa told us the other night. He said you weren't to have one"
"I know what he said" Sirius snapped back in a voice that set Regulus on edge. Now he'd done it. He'd ruined Sirius's good mood. But whereas this was usually the point where Regulus would give up his cause for the sake of restoring peace between them, the issue at hand was too great for him to let go, filling him with a sense of courage he was quite unfamiliar with.
"So what will we do, Sirius?" Regulus pressed. "Where will you keep him?"
"I dunno yet" Sirius mumbled his words - a sulky line of defence he was often scolded for by his parents when ordered to explain a bout of bad behaviour.
"You'll be in such awful trouble if they find him in here. When they find out we stole him. We both will" said Regulus, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the thought. "Grandfather will think-"
"I don't care what he thinks!" Sirius shouted back, scowling. "He's the one that was going to kill a poor innocent little dog! I didn't steal him, I saved him"
"But they won't see it like that!" Regulus reached out and tugged anxiously at his brother's robe sleeve. "You know they won't! Grandfather will be so angry with us - more so than ever!"
"Then let him" Sirius shook himself free from Regulus's grip. "Arcturus Black doesn't scare me. Look, just- stop pestering me, Reg, alright? You're spoiling it"
With all the air of a boy irked with his playmate for ruining the most terrific game, Sirius turned his back on his brother and returned his attention to the cruppie currently chewing on his finger.
A silence fell between the two boys, broken only by the scuffling and growling noises of the little dog which lay between them.
Regulus did his best to stifle his anxieties. But, try as he might, he could not think of a way out of their predicament. And judging by his reluctance to answer his questions, neither did Sirius. But after all, Sirius was the clever one. Regulus would simply just have to hope that he would come up with a solution soon.
"Have you decided what you're going to call him?" Regulus asked, somewhat hesitantly. To his relief, Sirius relaxed almost instantly at the lighter question, their disagreement behind him.
"I've had a few ideas for a title" Sirius stroked his hand absent-mindedly along the pup's black and white fuzz.
Regulus was puzzled.
"Don't you mean a name?"
"Not a name, as such, no" said Sirius. A slight smile crept onto the boy's face. Regulus knew that smile. It was the specific sort his brother saved for times in which he thought himself rather clever.
The younger boy tilted his head curiously.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Sirius twisted himself back around to face his brother. "What I mean is, you know how Grandad's crups all compete in dog shows and trials?"
Regulus nodded. "And they usually win," he said, images of the vast trophy cases filled with gleaming cups and shields which lined the halls of Noire House filling his mind.
"Of course they do, they're bred to be the best'' Sirius smiled proudly down at the cruppie now chewing on the hem of his robes. "Well, show dogs don't have names, see. They have titles. Names are for pets, not for champions''
"What sort of title is he going to have?" Regulus asked. "One like Grandfather's dogs?"
"No," said Sirius with a snort of laughter. "Arcturus's dogs all have poncy French titles"
"French? Why?"
"Because they're registered in France, of course"
Sirius spoke with the air of a seasoned professional of the dog world.
"Why would Grandfather not register them in England?"
Sirius rolled his eyes and sighed at his brother's ignorance, as though he wasn't enjoying the sense of superiority it gave him.
"Because he can't, stupid. The Ministry in this country makes people crop their crups' tails. Cut off the forked tip, I mean"
Regulus's mouth fell open in horror, his eyes wide with shock.
"Never!"
"It's true!" Sirius nodded eagerly. "It's to disguise them around Muggles. None of the Muggle breeds have forked tails, see. It's a magical feature"
Regulus looked down at the pup, his black-and-white forked tail lashing back and forth excitedly as he bounded about the floor. He suddenly felt very sorry for it.
"How awful…"
"It is, it's horrid. But Grandfather won't do it, he says cropping's all a load of rubbish, and that he won't mutilate his dogs to suit the Muggles"
Sirius placed great emphasis on the word 'mutilate'. Whether it was due his his disgust at its meaning or simply to show off the fact that he knew such a word, Regulus was unsure.
"But that means he can't show his crups in Britain" Sirius continued, stroking his hand along the cruppie's back. "They don't fit the breed standard. So he registers them in France and shows them in Europe instead"
Regulus marvelled at his brother's curious knowledge on the subject of crup showing.
"How do you know all this?" he asked, his head tilted to one side, curiously. "Did Grandfather tell you?"
"No" Sirius, distracted by the antics of the excited puppy, had now taken off one of his socks to use as a tug toy for the dog. "I found some of his books on crup training and an old logbook of his dogs' bloodlines in the library last week. Remember? That day it was raining?"
Regulus very much remembered. A sudden bout of bad weather had kept both boys shut firmly inside the house by their mother, leaving them with little else to do but wander the library. Regulus had spent the afternoon completely absorbed by an illustrated encyclopaedia of magical plants of the tropics, the brightly-coloured artwork distracting him from the fact that his brother's nose, too, had been unusually buried deep in a book of his own.
So that was what he'd been reading.
"Some of those titles truly were barmy, Reg" Sirius laughed. "Listen to this - one of them was called 'Le Yeux sur le Prix' - 'Eyes on the Prize' - isn't that ridiculous?"
Regulus forced out an unenthusiastic trickle of laughter, mercifully too drowned out by Sirius's own for him to notice.
"There was this other one as well, 'Frisson de la Poursuite'. How stupid is that?"
The French phrase spun through Regulus's head, his mind attempting to unpick each of the words and reassemble them in English.
His slow grasp of the title's meaning did not go unnoticed by his brother.
"It means 'Thrill of the Chase' said Sirius, smiling at his brother with just a trace of amusement. "Your French is still shaky, I see"
"It's better than it was," Regulus replied defensively. "Besides, you've been learning it for longer than me. And anyway, what's wrong with it? It sounds quite a suitable title for a hunting crup to me"
"Because it just sounds like he's gloating" Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands to lazily watch the antics of the cruppie, which had tugged off one of Sirius's socks and was now in the process of dragging it under the bed - a predator dragging its prey into its lair. "And besides, suppose the dog turns out to be a rubbish hunter. Arcturus would look like a right fool!"
Regulus flinched at the mere thought of what their tempestuous grandfather's reaction would be if he could hear Sirius referring to him as a "right fool". Images of his grandfather's face apoplectic with anger flashed before his mind's eye - anger almost as vivid as what he imagined the patriarch's reaction to their having stolen one of his prized dogs would be.
"Were there any more?" Regulus pressed his brother, by way of distracting himself from the nightmarish visions in his head.
"Oh, yes. In fact, I saved the best 'til last" said Sirius. He leaned forward eagerly, clearly excited to share this particular nugget of information. "You'll never believe it - he called one of the crups after Father!"
Regulus furrowed his brow in disbelief.
"You mean he named it Orion?" His tone faltered slightly as he spoke his father's given name - there was something that felt quite wrong - disrespectful - about hearing it spoken from his own lips.
"No, I told you, they don't have names, stupid" Sirius was impatient by his brother's lack of appreciation for what he clearly thought was a great joke. "But its title was 'Fierté du Chasseur'
Once again, the French words swam dizzily around Regulus's mind.
"Hunter's Pride?" Regulus's voice was uncertain, a combination of a lack of conviction in his translation and a lack of understanding as to what his brother found so amusing about it.
Sirius grinned from ear to ear.
"Exactly! Because Orion is the name of the hunting constellation - get it?"
"I think so," Regulus replied, though still unsure as to what exactly his brother found so amusing about all this. "Why did he give that particular crup that title?'
"I wondered that too" said Sirius, doing a poor job of hiding his disappointment with Regulus's lack of appreciation for what he clearly thought had been a great joke. "But then I realised the birth date next to the crup's title in the book. It was the same day as Father's"
"That makes sense, I suppose. I wonder if Father knows about that crup?"
Sirius shrugged.
"Doubt he'd care if he did. He doesn't like dogs"
There was an obvious resentment in Sirius's voice. He was clearly still vexed with their father for not allowing him to have a crup of his own.
The reminder of the forbidden nature of what they'd done filled Regulus with a fresh wave of nerves.
"Sirius," he began, tentatively. "What are we going to do?"
"I told you, Reg, I'll figure it out!" Sirius snapped in annoyance. "Just - stop nagging me about it, will you?"
"But we need to figure out a plan soon! And you can't- Ow!"
At lighting speed, Sirius had scrambled to his feet and lurched forward to roughly yank Regulus up by the arm. Before the younger boy could offer any protest, Sirius gave him another sharp warning yank - just as the bedroom door swung open and the family's faithful house elf entered.
"Kreacher came to check on the young masters, as the Mistress ordered" said Kreacher, his beady eyes peering keenly at the two boys. "To make sure they are behaving themselves"
"Well we are behaving, so you're all out of luck this time, I'm afraid" Sirius replied, shooting the elf his best innocent smile.
The elf's already-wrinkled brow furrowed further at the elder boy's cheeky tone. His eyes darted about the room, clearly searching for anything amiss.
Regulus stole a quick, daring look down at the bed under which the cruppie still lurked. Mercifully, the little dog was unusually quiet. Not so much as a snuffle could be heard from under the bed. Perhaps he understood the peril of his situation.
Kreacher's gaze suddenly fixed on Sirius's one bare foot, from which the cruppie had stolen his sock.
The two boys stood in tense silence as the elf looked them up and down with an air of deep suspicion.
Mercifully, his gaze averted upward to meet Sirius's hateful glare.
"Master Sirius was told to change out of his filthy robes" Kreacher snapped. "The mistress will be displeased if he has disobeyed her"
"And I was just about to do it, as you can see" Sirius lifted his bare foot, pointing to it in gesture. "So if you wouldn't mind clearing off?"
Kreacher's scowl deepened and he let out a low groan before addressing both his young charges together.
"Kreacher has things to do" he practically growled. "But he will be listening. The young masters had better be behaving themselves, or Kreacher will fetch his mistress"
Regulus nodded eagerly. "We will"
"Yeah, good as gold, that's us" Sirius rolled his eyes and slouched sulkily, thrusting his hands into his pockets.
Kreacher shot Sirius one last distasteful look as he padded backwards out of the room, keeping his eyes trained on the two boys until the very last moment before he closed the door behind him.
The two boys waited until the elf's soft footsteps had faded into silence before breathing a sigh of relief.
"Phew!"
Sirius immediately dropped to the floor and dove under the bed in search of the hidden cruppie.
"It's a good thing he's a smart one!" said Sirius as he emerged from under the bed with the pup scooped under one arm. "He must have sensed that he needed to stay hidden"
The little dog refused to settle in Sirius's lap, wriggling free from his hold in moments, his forked tail lashing so vigorously that his whole body seemed to shake in rhythm.
"See, Reg?" said Sirius through a fit of giggles as the crup leaned up to lick his nose. "He's far too clever to have let old Arcturus do away with. He needs me"
Regulus reached under the bed and retrieved what remained of Sirius's sock. Now reduced to a mere scrap of fabric the garment was soaked in saliva, the many loose threads bearing all the signs of having been set upon by a born predator, having been torn apart seam-from-seam, like shreds of meat ripped from the bones of a carcass.
Grimacing at the ruined remnants of the garment in his hand, Regulus struggled to imagine how any creature which considered one of Sirius's old socks to be a tasty meal could possibly be considered clever.
But, as he looked across at his brother, now romping on the floor with the over-excited puppy and looking far happier than he had seen him in days, Regulus decided better of voicing his thoughts on the matter.