Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for the second regular Froday challenge for July 2022, the prompt being Stuntman. And for some reason this is what popped into my head, with the whole stuntman thing because a background element that is still important to the story.
Stunted
"How do they do that?"
Sirius flinched, his head turning towards the voice of someone who certainly shouldn't be there in his apartment. And he stared, leaning into the arm of the couch as said someone leaned over the back, staring at the television.
"I mean, they can't use magic, right?"
"What," Sirius sucked in his breath. "are you doing here?"
Said someone stared as if Sirius were some kind of idiot.
Which he was not. He reached for the remote, turning off the television. "I asked you a question."
"I was watching that," that someone said.
"And she," Sirius emphasized, "would skin you alive if she knew you were watching Muggle television. More importantly, I'll ask again. What are you doing here, Regulus?"
"I came to visit."
Sirius stared, his jaw dropping slightly. "Why is it you think you'd be welcome here?"
"I know I'm not."
"Bloody hell."
"Can you make that do what it does again?" Regulus asked. "You called it the Muggle television, right?"
"Regulus, what don't you understand about not being welcome here?"
"We're family."
"We're not family!" Sirius snapped. "And you can bloody fuck off."
To which Regulus glared, the smile leaving his face. And he didn't move.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Regulus said, still not moving.
"Are you leaving?"
"No." Regulus said. "I don't want to."
"I'm not giving you an option."
"Then throw me out," Regulus said. "And we're family."
"We're not. Stop acting like you're welcome here, Regulus."
"I already told you that I know I'm not welcome."
"And you're here despite that because?"
"We're family."
Sirius stared. He opened his mouth to say that they weren't, yet stopped himself short, realizing that it was the same thing he'd already said which in turn would mean the argument—given it was Regulus, would simply repeat itself, over and over again. But there was something more concerning. "Hold on. How did you get in here?"
Regulus sighed, draping himself over the back of the couch, his fingers wiggling across the cushion as if he were playing the piano while looking rather bored. "Your warding spells are a crude imitation of father's warding spells which have actually improved immensely since you left and they're still child's play to get around."
Sirius' eyes went wide as his body tensed. He forced himself to sit up. "Bloody Merlin. What are you playing at Regulus?"
Regulus sighed, his fingers no longer playing across the sofa cushion. He remained flopped over and instead pointed at the television rather than answering the question, being his normal irritating self. "Can we watch the box please?"
"How about you leave instead?"
"No," Regulus said. "I said I didn't want to."
And there Regulus was continuing to hang upside down, his eyes on the television and Sirius didn't know what to say.
"Hey. Do you know how Muggles do it? Those stunts without magic?"
"Seriously?"
"I'm not named Sirius, remember."
"What is wrong with you?"
"What isn't wrong," Regulus muttered. "Can we please watch the Muggle box?" He pointed at the box. "And could you answer my question about how Muggles and how they do those stunt things?"
"Asks the person not answering my questions," Sirius said, not wanting to say he didn't know."
"Oh. Yeah. I haven't?" Regulus frowned. "I thought I was."
"Why are you here?"
"I could ask a Muggle how it works."
"You could what?" Sirius's voice strained. "Are you crazy? Just how messed up in the head are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You seriously don't know what's wrong about asking a Muggle about Muggle things?"
"I guess asking a Muggle about Muggle things would sound strange, right?"
"You think?" Sirius said. "Not to mention," he started to say.
"I could ask her."
"You're risking breaching the Statute of Secrecy," Sirius said. "Not to mention," he continued.
"Already have." Regulus said, his mouth twisting into
"Getting on her bad side." Sirius said. "Wait. What?"
"No. I'm definitely not on her bad side. I think I'm actually on her good side, to be honest," Regulus sighed, smiling like an idiot.
"Are we talking about the same person?" Sirius asked. "And can you get your shit together?"
Regulus frowned, starting to play his fingers across the couch cushion again as if he were playing piano, only with one hand this time. "Probably not, 'cause you've not met her."
"Her who?" Sirius said. "And you do realize who I was talking about?"
"Her who. Her who smells like Amortentia?" Regulus mummered.
"Amortentia?" Alarm bells started going off in Sirius' head.
Unfortunately, Regulus also perked up in a way that also set off alarm bells, but he also pulled himself over the back of the couch, flopping so uncharacteristically, so uncouthly—or so their mother would say, with his shirt sliding up slightly to show some skin, while his robes went all over the place. "She smells like Amortentia."
And Sirius stared. "Are you in love or something?"
"I thought that would be apparent from me saying she smells like Amortentia," Regulus said, looking at Sirius—still upside down, but now giving him these big puppy dog eyes that he always did when he wanted something.
"And would your mother approve?"
"She certainly would not," Regulus muttered. "But you should have already figured out why."
"What do you mean?"
Regulus stared, then sighed. "Sirius, were you even paying attention to our conversation?"
"Not really."
"Figures." He glanced off, struggling to make direct eye contact like always.
"You've still not answered why you're here?"
Regulus' frown deepened. "Not sure how to put it."
"Well, try."
"You know how you always talk about how I'm on the wrong side?"
"Oh? So you've figured that you? That mother dearest is actually the one on the wrong side, not me?"
"No. You said that, not me."
"Good lord. If you're still insisting his side is in the right, you can leave," Sirius said.
"And you're talking as if there's only ever been two sides of his," Regulus said, still watching his brother.
"What?"
"There's more than just two sides."
"No, Regulus, there's the dark side—your side, and the light side, our side."
"Um, no. There's the light side, our side, and the dark side, your side and then there's Bella's side."
Sirius stared. "Bella's side? And we're the dark side?"
"And I just realized something."
"And that is?" Sirius frowned. "And what's this about Bella's side?"
"I thought her side was a singular anomaly, but then I realized he's on her side."
Sirius closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay Regulus. How are you even defining which side is dark and which side is light. Because I'm quite sure that I'm on the light side."
"You're not."
"Because?"
"Because you treat House Elves like crap."
To which Sirius opened his eyes and lowered his hand, staring at his younger brother. "What?"
"You've always mistreated Kreacher. But Bella's side—Voldemort tried to leave Kreacher to die Sirius."
"I see."
"Well, I'm glad you're finally seeing my side of things."
"I am not! You blundering idiot! You bloody realized Voldemort is an awful person because he left a House Elf to die?"
"The way you treat House Elves isn't okay."
"Oh, and the way you treat Muggles is?"
"Says the person who treats Muggles like some kind of fetish," Regulus nose wrinkled up.
"Excuse me? I like Muggles, and I'm not the one who's fallen in love with a Muggle girl knowing full well what our mother thinks of that."
"And I'm not the one who hung posters of poor, scantly dressed Muggle girls on my walls."
Sirius paused, thinking about what Sirius said. "Okay. So we really need to talk about this idea you have that those girls are poor Muggle girls, because they're dressing that way because they want to."
"I honestly can't believe any girl would ever purposefully objectify herself like that!" Regulus said. "And you wonder why mother objected to them."
"You're a fucking retard."
"Am not."
"You definitely are, because what she objected to was the fact they were Muggle girls, not that they were scantly dressed."
"Suit yourself."
"And if we're such an evil side, then how do you explain away mother's idea of that Muggle girls blood being inferior to your own, that you're not going to ever be with her."
"If she were my mistress, I could," Regulus said.
"What?" Sirius stiffened. "Please tell me that you're not thinking about doing something so disgusting as that?"
"I know it's antiquated and treats women like property."
"Then?"
"I don't want to do that, but I don't want to get married either."
"And you think she'd let you get away with that?" Sirius leaned against the couch arm, folding his arms. "And Regulus, what about thinking our blood is superior to theirs?"
Regulus sat up, glaring at him, though not looking him in the eye. "You're a Black. You know the answer to that. And I don't think, in regards to your prior question, that they'd be able to find a suitable match like they would for you."
Sirius laughed. "You kidding me? You're the perfect little Pureblood, aren't you? You're perfect to continue the line."
"Considering the fact nobody would have considered me a suitable match until suddenly out of the blue I became family heir? But you were always considered a match despite being sorted incorrectly."
"Wasn't miss incorrectly."
"And all of your behavior problems," Regulus continued. "You've always been considered a suitable match. And then you had to go and burn all of your connections with the family."
"You're still missing the point that they treat Muggles as if their blood is inferior to our own, and you don't seem to have a problem with that at all."
And Regulus glared. He took a deep breath and then said, "You don't go and breed a high-quality thoroughbred with a common mare, Sirius."
"What?" Sirius stared. "Why are we suddenly talking about horses?"
"Because, Sirius, you are in this analogy you are that thoroughbred!" And now Regulus was in his face, though not yelling. And so he could smell something as Regulus said. "And me? I the low-quality thoroughbred nobody wants, but I'm what mother and father are now stuck with."
Regulus' eyes were closed, his body trembling. Sirius stared, and then said, "Are you drunk?"
"Of course I'm drunk. Wouldn't have had the courage to even come here had I not gotten drunk."
"And how did you get drunk?"
"I know where the family keeps the liquor, Sirius."
"Are you seriously blaming me for the fact you're not going to be able to marry you're little Muggle wench?"
"Olivia's not a wench!" And now his brother was crying.
"Yeah, well, we both know even if I'd left, you still wouldn't be allowed to marry her."
"If you'd left I wouldn't be forced to marry someone who wasn't her!" Regulus snapped. "I don't want to marry anyone who isn't Olivia. I don't want to be with anyone else."
"So you'll remain a virgin the rest of your life?" Sirius said, not thinking their mother would let Regulus do so.
"I'm not a virgin."
"What?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I know you're seventeen, but mother's not made you go and marry yet has she." And he closed his eyes, realizing he'd referred to Walburga as their mother. "Your mother hasn't done that, has she?"
"No," Regulus was trembling. "I made a choice. A choice that my first time would be with someone I choose rather than someone mother choose for me. Because we know it's going to be her who chooses. And it was Olivia and my decision."
"Bloody Merlin, Regulus. What have you done?"
"I don't want to be with anyone else, Sirius. And," that was when Regulus pulled up his sleeve. "I don't want to become a murderer."
And Sirius stared. He stared at the Death Mark on his brother's arm. He'd known Regulus was in, but—Sirius swallowed. "Become a murderer? Are you kidding me? You can't get that mark unless you tortured and murdered Muggle children."
"Shows what you know," Regulus said, pulling the sleeve down. "Because you simply have to be useful to him, and I was useful."
"How?"
Regulus shook his head, biting his lip. He glanced down, tugging the sleeve down.
"How were you useful to him?"
Again, Regulus shook his head.
Sirius sighed. "Why did you even join?"
"Because," Regulus glanced away. "I'm tired of hiding who I am."
"This garbage?"
"It's not garbage."
"You constantly repeat what comes out of her mouth, Regulus. You don't think I don't know that you're talking about not hiding our ability to use magic from Muggles? Are you crazy?"
"What's wrong with wanting to be friends with Muggles?" Regulus said.
"You actually think mother would let you interact with Muggles?"
"I said to be friends with, not marry them, Sirius."
Sirius sighed. "You've got a really messed up way of thinking, Regulus." And another thought crossed his mind. " And it 's going to get him in trouble someday. "
"You don't think I don't know that my brain doesn't work normally? You don't think I have to try and hide that from everyone else? But with Olivia, I could be myself. Completely myself, magic and all—flaws and all." And then Regulus collapsed right into Sirius' lap, sobbing, a drunken mess. And he cried and cried until he couldn't cry anymore while Sirius stared. And when Regulus finished crying, he said. "Please don't make me go home."
"You know she'll come looking for you."
"I don't want to go home."
"Are you going to even remember this conversation once you sober up?"
"Don't know. First time drinking."
"Obviously. She's going to—no. I won't let her."
"Let her what?"
"Don't worry about it, okay? I'll figure out something." Sirius turned on the television, thinking there was a lot Regulus wasn't telling him.
From his lap, Regulus muttered eventually. "How do they do that? Without magic?"
"The stunts?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't honestly know."