A/N – I am so sorry about how long you've all had wait for this chapter. I thought my life was insane a month ago – well it's gotten steadily worse! I've been lucky to have any days off work at all. We have three of us now doing the work of six. I only have today off because it's my birthday. I'm not going to promise any particular time for Chapter 14, because, quite simply, I doubt I'll be able to keep to it. I will try to not let it be too long, but it really does depend on work. I will promise, however, that it will be up eventually.
Chapter Thirteen
Regulus' new robes were uncomfortable. The neck was too tight, despite the precise measurements that the tailor had taken, and the expensive fabric – in Slytherin green and silver – was heavy and suffocating in the warm room. The press of bodies already filling the enlarged chamber was making his discomfort even greater. His head was beginning to throb from the incessant, loud, chattering voices. The sickly sweet scents of the many flowers that were dispersed throughout the house – all expensively out of season and meant to be a subtle reminder of the wealth of the family – were making him feel sick. And the night had barely even begun.
He wasn't going to start thinking about Sirius, locked in his room upstairs.
He stood stiffly between his parents as they greeted the steady flow of arriving guests, his feet aching from standing in the same spot for so long. Smiling politely, he stepped forward to welcome yet another sour-faced, middle-aged 'friend' of Mother's. His movements by now were so practised as to be almost mechanical as he quickly shifted his attention onto the next new arrival.
He didn't want to be here. He didn't know where he did want to be, but it definitely wasn't here. Somewhere that didn't make his head pound would be nice...
"Regulus," his mother's piercing voice cut through his thoughts, making him jump as he turned to look guiltily at her. Her eyes, though, were not looking at him, but were scanning the crowded room with satisfaction.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Go and mingle."
He happily did as he was ordered, carefully easing his way through the throngs of guests. His polite smile was still firmly in place as he hunted for a place, any place, that was a little quieter – somewhere he could nurse his growing headache. The crowd looked a little thinner over the far side of the room... He had barely crossed halfway however, before he was halted by a fair-haired figure.
"Here," Lucius said, placing a drink in his hand. "You look like you need it."
"Thanks," he murmured, taking a sip. "Though a charm against headaches would probably be better."
"Ah. The noise is getting to you, I take it?"
"Yeah..."
With a quick swish and a tap of his wand against his forehead, Lucius had banished the pain. Regulus blinked.
"Thank you. You'll have to teach me that one."
"Anytime, my boy. Anytime. So... How's Hogwarts going?"
"Fine, thanks. How's life outside Hogwarts?"
Their conversation drifted along for a time in mere idle chitchat, nothing of any particular importance being discussed. It was comfortable and easy.
"Where's Sirius tonight?" Lucius suddenly asked him.
"Sirius?" Regulus shrugged. Thoughts of his brother were not so comfortable. "In his room I should think." He frowned as a sly smile slid over Malfoy's face, but his attention was jerked away a second later as a hand fell on his shoulder.
"Hmm, maybe we ought to pay him a little visit at some point," Bellatrix's husky voice said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see two of his cousins standing there.
"Wish him a Happy New Year," Narcissa added, simpering at Lucius.
"Yes. I was just thinking the same thing myself," the sleek, blond-haired man replied. "He's always... fun to visit, isn't he. When he's not got those friends of his with him, anyway."
Regulus smiled at his cousins, but he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of unease. He had no illusions as to what their 'visit' to Sirius would entail. He had seen such encounters, and taken part in such encounters, too many times in the past. At the best, Sirius wouldn't get away without at least a few nasty bruises. At the worst... With the state Sirius was in now... No. He didn't want to think about it.
That charm of Lucius' didn't work very well. His headache was starting to come back.
For the next several long minutes he managed to tune out his companions' conversation as his gaze drifted over the many pure-blooded witches and wizards who filled the room. Over there were the Rookwoods, and the Macnairs. There were the Snapes and the Goyles. Only those of the purest of blood could expect to receive an invitation to an event held by the Blacks. The Crabbes were here. As too were the Averys and the Dolohovs...
"Is that who I think it is?" Regulus suddenly exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock as he gazed at the tall, elegant figure standing beside his father.
Lucius glanced calmly over. "If you're thinking that it's our lord, then you'd be right."
"'Our' lord?" Regulus blinked. So Lucius was a Death Eater, one of the so-called 'Knights of Walpurgis'... He probably should have guessed.
"Yes, 'our' lord. Is he yours as well, Regulus? Will you be joining us soon?"
"Um... Of course..." Of course. What choice did he have in the matter? There wasn't anything else he could do. He'd never been brave, not like Sirius – but then, look where being brave had gotten his brother! And besides, he did believe that the Dark Lord was right. Mudbloods weakened the wizarding community. Mother had always told him the same thing and, despite what Sirius said, their mother was right. That was what he believed.
Mother would expect him to join the Death Eaters. He couldn't really do anything else...
He'd never been reckless like Sirius either.
"Come on," Bellatrix suddenly said, "I'm getting bored. Let's go and pay that visit to Sirius."
"Splendid idea," Lucius drawled, his arm snaking around Narcissa's waist. "Are you coming, Reg?"
"Er..." No. Very definitely, no – but how could he tell them that? "I can't really leave here yet. Mother would skin me alive." It was true enough, though he was pretty sure she wouldn't notice his absence tonight. He really wasn't in the mood for tormenting his brother though.
"Come on, Reg! She won't notice you gone," Bella protested, echoing his thoughts.
"Sorry guys. Maybe next time. Mother's been in too much of a temper lately for me to risk it."
Rolling her eyes Bellatrix turned and stalked away through the crowd. Lucius and Narcissa languidly followed behind her, leaving Regulus alone again. Rubbing at his temples he scanned the room, his eyes automatically searching out Voldemort's dominating figure. He was just in time to see the Dark Lord, accompanied by his father, leave the room. He blinked, staring after the pair with a frown. What was going on? Where were they going? And why was his father meeting with Voldemort? He wasn't a Death Eater as well was he?
A handful of minutes later Lucius and his cousins passed through the same doorway, turning his thoughts inevitably back to his brother. Merlin only knew what sort of a state he would be in after his cousins had finished with him. As if Father's attentions hadn't been bad enough... What if Father was also going to 'visit' Sirius – and was taking Voldemort with him? No... No, he wouldn't. Such things as this were kept in the family... Sirius' punishment was a family matter...
"Regulus! What are you doing?" His mother's voice jerked him sharply back to reality. "I thought I told you to mingle," she snapped, advancing on him, "not just stand there looking like an imbecile!"
"Sorry Mother. I was..."
"I don't care what you were doing. You have to give out a good impression tonight. You have to repair the damage that that blood-traitor has done to our Name – and standing there gawping is not doing so! Now," she instructed, "go and talk to Severus," she ordered. "The poor boy has been standing there on his own all evening..."
"But, Mother..."
"No 'but's, Regulus. You're getting as bad as that brother of yours lately and I will not be having that!"
"Yes, Mother," he sighed.
"Well? Go on then!"
"Yes, Mother."
To say that he dragged his feet as he crossed the room to the other Slytherin's side would be an understatement. He could feel his mother's eyes upon his back practically the entire way, almost daring him to disobey her. He wouldn't do so. He didn't dare. After all - Mother's orders were Mother's orders.
Although he had never hated Severus Snape in the same way Sirius did, he had never been particularly fond of the older boy. He didn't think anyone actually liked Snape. Other than Father, of course. He was a loner, with a nasty temper that alienated even his housemates. That was not to say that the other Slytherins ever condoned the treatment he received from a certain group of Gryffindors, but many did feel that he deserved it. Regulus... Regulus had had to listen to his father extolling the greasy-haired boy's virtues far too many times, usually to either his or Sirius' detriment, to have any fondness for him.
"Severus," he greeted him.
Dark eyes flicked briefly towards him before turning back to their surveillance of the room.
"Regulus."
Silence fell between them. Regulus stood, fidgeting nervously, his eyes straying to where his mother stood conversing with the elderly Eldiva Rookwood. He couldn't really desert the other boy yet. She would not be happy.
"Um... How are you enjoying the party?"
"Its fine."
Silence.
Regulus was struggling to find something else to ask - something that wouldn't end in a one or two-word answer - when Severus' voice broke into his thoughts with a question that instantly touched on a nerve. "Where's that brother of your's tonight?"
"What is it with everyone lately?" Regulus snapped, his irritation, mingling with his ambivalent feelings towards his Gryffindor brother, getting the better of him. "That's all anyone seems to ask me! Do you want to go and pay him a 'visit', as well, now that he can't fight back?"
"No," Snape sneered. "I'm quite happy to stay away from him, thanks."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Quite simply so I can stay away from him. Why don't you go and bother someone else?" the older boy asked. "You obviously don't want to be talking to me any more than I want to be talking to you."
"Believe me, I would if I could! Mother's orders."
Snape rolled his eyes and, with another sneer, turned and swept away through the crowd.
Oops. He probably shouldn't have said that. With a quick nervous glance over towards his mother Regulus hurried after Snape's billowing robes.
"Hey! Regulus!"
He halted, glancing around in surprise, to see Lucius and his cousins – Bellatrix looking in a foul temper – approaching him through the crowd.
"What are you guys doing back so soon," he asked.
"He's not in there," Bella growled.
"What?"
"Your brother. He wasn't in his room," Lucius qualified. "That place really is a pigsty isn't it?"
"The house-elves don't go in there," he explained, his mind fixed on Bella's words. If he wasn't in his room, then where was he? "He hasn't really been in a decent state to clean it himself." He couldn't get out on his own – which meant that Father must have had something to do with it. And Father was with Voldemort...
"Oh? Why is that?"
"What? Oh. He, um, annoyed Father."
"Ah..."
Lucius looked like he was about to say more, but was interrupted by Bellatrix.
"Rodolphus is here!" she exclaimed. "Finally." Without another word she was gone.
"Reg... are you alright?" Narcissa enquired, her large eyes worried as she lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. Lucius, he saw, had drifted off to one side, engaged in conversation with one of the many young Avery sons at the party. "You've been miles away all night? This isn't like you at all. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong at all!" he protested. "I'm just really tired, is all. Mother's been making me work like a house-elf, you know, in preparation for this. I think she's determined to give out a good impression. I think she's a bit worried about what Sirius has been doing to our good name..."
"Sirius? Why? What has he been doing now?"
He sighed. "Don't ask. It's more what hasn't he been doing."
"That bad?"
"Worse." He really didn't want to talk about his brother. In an attempt to change the subject he asked the first question that entered his head. "Is Andromeda not here this year?"
"Are you out of your mind? Not since she married that mudblood! She won't be showing her face in polite society again... And have you heard?" she continued. "She's pregnant! Merlin only knows what the spawn will be like with that for a father." Narcissa paused before adding, "Mother's been talking about blasting her off the family tree."
Regulus avoided his cousin's eyes as he informed her, "Sirius already has been, I think."
"Oh... He must have really annoyed your mother then."
"Yeah." He rubbed at his temples. His headache had returned full force. "Look, Cissa, I'm gonna go and find somewhere quiet. I have a horrible headache. Could you make some sort of excuse for me if Mother asks...?"
"Sure thing, Reg..."
A lie down would probably be the best thing for it, he thought, slipping out of the crowded chamber. His room should be nice and quiet. Yeah, a lie down and a pain-killing potion should do the job – hopefully better than Lucius' charm... With that thought in mind, he headed upstairs.
"I apologise, my Lord, that I could not arrange a meeting before tonight," Arcturus said as he led Voldemort up the final flight of stairs. "I ran into a few... obstacles. There was an incident in my workshop last week which destroyed much of my work."
"Not so much that you have nothing left to show me, I hope."
"Oh no," he said, pushing open the door to the room he had ordered Kreacher to place Sirius in, "I have plenty still to show you." He carefully set his case of potions down on the dresser as his gaze fell on the wide-eyed face of his son.
His son! He stared bitterly down at the bedraggled boy huddled against the wall.
He had always been such a disappointment, he thought. Even as a child he had rarely behaved in the way his heir should. He had never been obedient. Regulus had at least tried, but had Sirius? No!
He moved further into the room, a scornful smile of satisfaction curving his lips as a small whimper of fear escaped the boy.
Back then, of course, he hadn't disputed their beliefs; hadn't disputed the supremacy of the purebloods – that was before the days of his spouting of his Gryffindor, muggle-loving, blood-traitor nonsense. But he had never been willing to follow instructions. He had never had the right manner for the first-born son of the Black family.
His heir should have been calm and poised, polite and dignified. Sirius, however, had never been any of these things. He should have always given out a good impression for their family, showed that the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black was still one of the greatest of the wizarding world. Sirius had never done that. He had been loud and disorderly, had run when he should have walked, dawdled when he should have hurried. He had never been able to remain neat for longer than five minutes. His had been both defiant and, regularly, outright disobedient. All of this had simply been compounded with his sorting into Gryffindor.
His disobedience would no longer be tolerated. The boy was a disappointment that would no longer be tolerated.
"What is the meaning of this, Black?" Voldemort's sharp voice demanded from beside him.
"The meaning? I am simply about to demonstrate the uses of my potions..."
"And the boy?"
"The boy is going to... help me. Aren't you, Sirius?"
"Father... Please... I'm sorry. I won't..."
"Silence! You see, my Lord," he said, calmly turning away from Sirius' to face Voldemort's cold face, "it is because of Sirius here that I do not have more to show you."
"I had heard that you had a son who had been sorted into Gryffindor. This is him, yes?"
"It is," he answered, casting a distasteful look at the boy. "It seems that he discovered the nature of my work just before Christmas and took it into his head to engage in a little sabotage. Although overall his actions proved to be a failure, he did destroy a lot. Of both my potions and my notes."
Offering Slytherin's heir a seat, he crossed back to his case of potions and lifted the first large vial free. A few moments later he had measured a careful dose into a goblet, which he offered to Sirius to drink.
"Please... Father..."
"Just drink it, Boy," he snarled, fixing a cold glare on the brat. "This can get far worse if you don't do as I say."
"Please..."
This was starting to get annoying.
A glare was all it took. With unsteady hands Sirius accepted the goblet, causing Arcturus to smirk in satisfaction. It seemed the brat was finally learning...
"Unfortunately," he said, his eyes not leaving his son's face as the boy reluctantly lifted the goblet, "– one of the few negative aspects of this potion – even diluted, both its odour and taste remain strong and fairly distinctive, making it practically impossible to use clandestinely. The majority of potions in the range are odourless, and most are also either fully tasteless or with only a slight after-taste, which can be easily masked by a carrier with a strong flavour itself."
With a whine of defeat, that sent a thrill of sheer power flowing through Arcturus' chest, Sirius dropped the now empty goblet, with a dull thump, to the carpeted floor. The boy's eyes then closed as he slumped, shuddering, back against the wall. Arcturus avidly watched.
"The effects of this potion are three-fold," he told the Dark Lord, his eyes not leaving Sirius. "Paralysis, pain and control, appearing at differing levels, depending on the dosage. I have given 30 drops, which gives, as I see it, the most interesting results. It takes between five and ten minutes to take effect - which means that it should, soon, be taking hold of him. After this time the subject will be held in a form of paralysis, accompanied by an agonising pain – not quite as effective as Crucio, but more than enough to gain obedience from anyone. The subject is only able to break the paralysis by the following of instructions spoken by any person present..."
He paused in his narrative, his eyes narrowing and his lips curving into a satisfied smile, as the boy's small, helpless movements suddenly halted. He sat now, wrapped in unnatural stillness, at his feet.
"Ah! See how he is no longer able to move? The pain which accompanies the paralysis will grow steadily worse as he fails to follow any instruction – or, in this case, as no instructions are there for him to follow." He didn't turn to look as footsteps sounded behind him. "It is only when he is doing as ordered that the pain is halted."
"Hmm – very interesting... So, he will follow any instructions?"
"Any at all spoken within his hearing. It may take a little while, but the pain will continue to increase until he does as he is told."
He glanced over at the man who stood now beside him, gazing at Sirius with an eagerly cruel expression.
"Stand," the Dark Lord ordered.
The boy twitched and, slowly, unsteadily, pushed himself to his feet. The instant he stood before them, ice seemed to again sheathe his form as the paralysis regained its hold, freezing him in place. His eyes remained closed, as they had been before the potion had taken effect.
"Open your eyes," Arcturus said.
The heavy lids lifted and the stormy grey depths, looking abnormally large in their sunken, discoloured sockets, were revealed – reflecting the agony that the boy obviously felt within.
"On your knees," Voldemort hissed. "Kneel before your Lord." This time the boy took longer to obey, obviously fighting against the command, but eventually he dropped to his knees before Voldemort, his head bowed in submission.
Casting a disdainful glance at Sirius' kneeling form, Arcturus returned to his description. "Any dosage of less than twenty-five drops will cause only paralysis – there is no element of control. If more than thirty-five drops are given the subject loses the ability to control the actions of his body. He is still consciously present, but merely as a spark of self trapped within his mind. His actions are controlled by spoken orders. Any attempt by the subject to control himself results in severe pain. With more than forty drops that spark of self vanishes. The body becomes a – seemingly conscious – husk, whose actions are completely controlled by an outside force. The subject will have no memory of anything that he has been forced to do."
"This boy seems to have an unusual number of enemies present within this house."
"What?" Arcturus frowned, glancing at Voldemort in confusion. The other man's eyes held a slightly glazed look; the irises, Arcturus saw with a slight shudder, were tinted an unnatural, blood red.
"Lucius Malfoy, and Bellatrix and Narcissa Black." The Dark Lords eyes suddenly refocused, locking upon Sirius' frozen form. "What is it about him that makes so many wish to..." and the inhuman eyes shifted to lock onto his, boring straight through into his mind, "control him."
"His defiance," Arcturus automatically answered, unable to prevent the words from escaping his mouth. "He needs to be shown just who is in control."
"Ah..."
The eye contact was broken as Voldemort turned to gaze speculatively at Sirius once more and Arcturus blinked. Why had he said that? And... And just what had the other man meant about his nieces and Malfoy?
"Malfoy and your nieces just passed outside the room," Voldemort answered the unspoken question. "They had planned some rather interesting diversions involving this young man. They were all feeling rather disappointed that they had been unable to find him."
"What...? How do you...?"
"Do not underestimate me, Black. I am more powerful than you could imagine."
Voldemort continued to gaze down at Sirius' still kneeling form, an incalculable expression upon his face. Long, thin fingers snaked out to twine into the tangled strands of black hair, forcing the boy's head up.
"Look at me, Boy!" he ordered, and the pain filled eyes reluctantly rose to the Dark Lord's face. "Yes..." Voldemort murmured, barely loud enough for Arcturus to make out the words. "Yes. I can see why so many people wish to possess him. Such defiance... And he is strong!" he added a moment later, his eyes, glistening again with a blood-red sheen, widening slightly. "How unexpected..." A cold smile curved the man's mouth. "How enticing... Give him to me."
It took a moment for Arcturus to even realise that the Dark Lord's words, his request, was directed towards him. No. It wasn't a request. His order.
"No."
Voldemort, it seemed, had not expected a refusal. His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he turned to face him, releasing his grip on Sirius. But... Arcturus was not about to give the boy up – not now he finally had him under his power. He had had to put up with the brat's disobedience for far too long. He now had a chance to show him just who was in control.
That didn't help to still the shiver of fear that ran down his spine as he faced Voldemort's wrath, however.
"You dare to defy me!"
"I do. I am not one of your Death Eaters. He is mine."
He forced himself not to flinch at the flash of fury that suddenly contorted Voldemort's face.
"I could easily take him from you."
"I am sure that you could – but to what purpose? As 'enticing' as he may be, he is nothing but a useless whelp." He carefully kept his voice calm and level – the voice of the logical Potions Master. "All you would gain from such a course of action would be my enmity. Surely you would be better to keep me, and my potions, allied, willingly, to your cause."
Before the Dark Lord could say anything in answer Arcturus calmly returned his gaze to Sirius.
"The effects of this dosage of the potion can last anywhere between fifteen minutes and half an hour, depending upon the subject," he returned to his recital. He frowned as a shiver suddenly wracked his son's body. "As you can see, they are now beginning to wear off. I am currently working upon ways of extending it. The effects of a larger dosage, complete control, last a little longer – up to forty-five minutes."
He glanced at the Dark Lord's face. The fury had faded, to be replaced by a strange, unreadable expression that left Arcturus feeling vaguely uncomfortable.
"One of the advantages of this potion," he continued, "is that it can be used in conjunction with any of the other potions within this range, causing a variety of interesting effects which I will explain later."
A faint, dog-like whine drew his attention back to his son as the boy crumpled again to the floor, curling onto his side. He turned and lifted the next vial from the case. This time he didn't bother with placing the substance into a goblet – it took little enough to work, after-all – and simply knelt down and grasped Sirius' chin, forcing his mouth open. Before the boy could gather the strength to resist, he poured a small drop onto his tongue.
Calming rising to his feet he returned the vial to its place, and found Voldemort still gazing at him.
"It is not often that you find someone willing to use their own son in such a way," the Dark Lord said softly. "I am... impressed. You would do well as one of my Death Eaters, Black."
In spite of himself, Arcturus felt a thrill of pride run through him at Voldemort's words. Everyone knew that the Dark Lord didn't hand out praise often. Even so, he merely shrugged. To show that he was flattered by the man's praise was beneath the dignity of the head of the House of Black.
"This is no longer a son of mine," he said, casting a cold glare at the boy's supine form. "A Gryffindor brat, nothing more. He has already been wiped off the family tree. As for becoming a Death Eater," he continued, "I am too old for such things. Such roles are for the younger generation to take up. I have told you this before. However, I know that Regulus, in a year or so, will be happy to stand at your side. And he shall have my blessing.
"Now this next potion is another which can be used to control the subject – this time in a similar manner to the Imperio. It leaves the person's mind completely open to any mental attacks..."
Regulus lay on his bed, his head buried beneath his pillows. Not that they helped much. He could still hear... everything... He would probably be better to just go back to the party. For a little while his room had provided the desired sanctum, a respite that allowed the dose of potion to work at easing the throbbing of his head – but it hadn't lasted. As had happened so many times over the past week he had, yet again, been awoken from a refreshing sleep by the sounds of his brother's screams. So much for his room being quiet!
He shuddered as yet another broken cry was torn from Sirius, carrying easily to his ears from the lower floor. How much longer could they keep it up for? It had to stop soon! At first, last week, he had found this whole thing entertaining. That had long since passed. All he knew now was that the tortured sounds continued to echo in his ears long after they had truly faded. He couldn't stand it any longer.
Sirius' screams could probably by now be heard by everyone at the party – not that hearing screams would really be all that odd to any of them... But it was a bad sign. No matter what Sirius had been stupid enough to do, his punishment would ordinarily have stayed within the family. For Father not only to have neglected to put silencing charms around the room when he had a house full of non-family guests, but also, or so Regulus now had to presume, to have taken Voldemort with him... It showed that Sirius was no longer seen as part of the family. Which meant that father's treatment of him had gone beyond mere punishment.
Regulus wasn't entirely sure just how much more his older brother would be able to take. Not without breaking completely. He didn't want to see him break. Not really. Sirius might have been an annoying prat, he might have been a blood-traitor and a hot-headed idiot, but... he was his brother. No matter just how much he liked to see him in trouble, he didn't want to see him broken completely.
He didn't want to see him dead.
That was what Sirius was going to be if he didn't get away soon. Dead. It had gone far past mere punishment. This was pure cold-hearted malice.
But there wasn't really much that he could do about it, was there?
He buried his head beneath his pillows and struggled to block out the broken sounds. They had to end soon. They had to!
He was beginning to consider giving up and heading back to the party – his headache was mostly gone now anyway – when the cries began to slowly dwindle. Finally they fell completely silent, and he gave a sigh of relief.
He was just beginning to drift into a light sleep when shuffling, uneven footsteps on the stairs outside his room caused him to suddenly start in surprise. The soft muttering of a house-elf's high-pitched voice quickly told him just who was outside, but it was Kreacher's barely distinguishable words, and the thumping of something heavy striking against the steps, that drew him from his bed and over to crack open the door. He caught a brief glimpse of an unconscious, bedraggled Sirius being dragged along behind the house-elf before the pair moved out of sight.
Regulus closed his door and moved slowly over to perch on the chair by his desk, his elbows on the polished wood while his head rested in his hands.
What was he going to do? He couldn't leave him there, suffering as he was. He just couldn't. But... what could he do? Sirius had to get away, but it would be practically suicidal for him to help. Father's attention was unpleasant enough at the best of times. To have to face him when he was angry... That was something that Regulus had always done his best to avoid. Even Sirius had always done his best to avoid that.
No! He had to do something! If possible before his cousins and Lucius could get to his brother. Merlin only knew what lengths they would go to if they found Sirius in his current state. Cissa on her own wouldn't be too bad, but Bella – she had always delighted in tormenting Sirius. And Lucius... Everyone knew how much Lucius hated him. Sirius and his friends had played a few too many embarrassing pranks on the older boy before he had left Hogwarts three years ago, and Lucius was notorious for holding a grudge.
He had to try.
He waited for Kreacher to return downstairs before he left his room. It was late now. He hoped Mother hadn't noticed his absence from the party. He also hoped Narcissa had been able to think up a decent excuse if she had – he greatly doubted that saying that he'd had a headache would be a good enough excuse for escaping early. Not for Mother.
He could hardly believe he was actually doing this!
With his heart thudding almost painfully in his chest he padded up the final flight of narrow stairs. These, unlike those of the rest of the house, were ill lit and dingy. The occupants of the portraits were all absent. It felt deserted and unused, but Regulus knew only too well that that was not so. Drawing a deep breath as he reached the small landing at the top, he slowly pushed open the door to his brother's room.
When Lucius had described the place as a 'pig-sty' it had been one of the biggest understatements of the decade.
The room was filthy. No house-elf had cleaned in there recently. Every surface was grimy and dust-covered. The number of items within the room that bore what looked unnervingly like dried blood was frankly terrifying. The floor... The carpet, Regulus believed, had once been green, the same as that in his room. It was practically impossible to tell for certain any more. Beneath the ingrained dirt and the stains of blood and sick – and quite possibly other substances that he didn't particularly want to think about – the carpet could have been any colour at all. On the far side of the room was his brother's bed, with its crumpled, filthy sheets and tangled blankets showed clear evidence of current events.
In the centre of the room sprawled Sirius' unconscious form. He had, by the look of it, tried to make his way back to his bed, only for his body to give up the struggle barely halfway there. The image that was created was one that Regulus was quite certain would stay burned on his mind for many years to come. His brother – annoying, arrogant, headstrong Gryffindor, but his brother nonetheless – who had always seemed so strong... so alive, now held the appearance of a broken, discarded wreck.
He was thin – far thinner than Regulus had ever before seen him – and his skin looked pasty and pale, marred by bruises and dried blood. His black hair, which he usually took great care over, was a tangled, unwashed mess, hanging in rats-tails about his face. He wasn't even going to start cataloguing the other boy's injuries. He had thought that he had looked bad when he saw him yesterday...
Casting a quick, nervous glance down the stairway, Regulus slowly entered the room, his steps hesitant as he approached his brother's side. He dropped to his knees and reached out a tentative hand to touch the older boy's shoulder.
Sirius' eyes flashed open - a wild, frantic look in their depths as he drew away.
"No! Please... no... Leave me 'lone..."
"Er... Sirius. It's me – um, Regulus. I'm... er... I'm not gonna hurt you. Ssh. I'm gonna help you get out."
The wild look slowly faded as Sirius' eyes focused on him, to be replaced by a dull confusion.
"Reg..." the older boy croaked. "Wha's goin' on...? Why...?"
Why? Regulus grimaced. He wasn't really sure of that himself. Why was he doing this? It was stupid. It was practically suicidal! If Father found out... He shivered. He didn't even want to consider that possibility. Not even being in Mother's favour would be enough to protect him from the consequences. He ought to just leave Sirius... He had gotten himself into this mess. He ought to just leave him to get himself out of it. But he couldn't do that. He just wasn't entirely certain why that was so.
Luckily Sirius didn't seem to really need an answer. His eyes had closed again. The sheer, unbounded levels of pain and exhaustion that consumed him were starkly visible on his haggard face.
There was no way Sirius was going to be able to get out of the house – not in the state he was in. Regulus frowned. There had to be something he could do, some spell he could cast... But what? He wracked his brain, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to find a spell that would help. There had to be something!
Unfortunately, if there was, he couldn't remember it.
Okay... so maybe not a spell... What about a potion?
What about Pepperup?
He knew they had some of that in. He'd seen it in the medicine cabinet when he'd been getting his headache cure earlier. He wasn't entirely certain that it would work – it was meant to cure people with colds, after-all – but hopefully, if nothing else, it would give Sirius enough of an energy burst to get him out of the house. Hopefully.
He swiftly rose to his feet and left the room.
A few minutes later he was standing in the main bathroom of the house, rifling through the many jars and vials that filled the medical cupboard. One of the good things about having a Potion Master for a father – they always had a good range of medical supplies in. His eyes quickly scanned over the many labels, all written in Father's cramped hand. Skele-gro, burn heal paste, wound-cleaning potion. Arrgh – where was it?
Ah ha! There it was. Finally! Pepperup. Extra strong – yeah, that'd be good. With a quick glance behind him he pocketed the large jar and hurried back up the stairs to his brother's attic room.
Sirius lay sprawled exactly as he had left him: his mind sunk into an insensible stupor; his body's only movement that caused by his shivers. Moving quickly over the intervening distance, Regulus returned to the older boy's side, dropping to his knees beside him.
"Sirius? Siri? I've got something to make you better." He nudged his brother's shoulder, but his only response was a pained groan and an unintelligible murmur. "Sirius, wake up!"
Frowning, he removed the bulky jar from his pocket, placing it on the floor, and, ignoring the groans of pain that his actions caused, lifted Sirius into a seated position, supporting his upper body against his own. If he could get some of the potion into the other boy, maybe he would wake up... He removed the stopper and lifted the bottle to Sirius' mouth.
The instant the glass touched his lips Sirius jerked awake, causing the potion to spill down his chin and the front of jumper. With a wordless cry he pulled himself free of Regulus' arms, scrambling away, his head shaking. He backed himself against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest, his thin body shaking.
"Sirius?" Regulus said softly, but he got no further as Sirius' rough voice interrupted him.
"No! Not again... Please... I'm sorry... Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry..."
Regulus edged closer. "Come on, Sirius – you've got to drink this!"
But Sirius merely flinched away. Regulus drew a deep breath, forcing himself to some semblance of patience as he gazed at Sirius' trembling form. He could tell that his brother was not seeing him. The other boy's eyes were unfocused and distant, staring straight through Regulus, fixed on something that only he could see. It didn't take a genius to figure out just what it was that Sirius was seeing – their father. His brother had been through too much in the past week to be able to distinguish between the abuse that he had been forced to endure and a helping hand.
He had to calm him down. He had to get him to understand what was really happening... and he had to do it quickly! The longer this took, the greater the chance of interruption. Carefully placing the potion on the floor, Regulus reached out a hand to touch Sirius' shoulder. His brother recoiled violently away and he quickly lowered the hand and instead began softly talking, his eyes locked onto the older boy's.
"Sirius, you're alright. Father's not here. It's Regulus and I'm trying to help you... Sirius! Look at me! Please. I'm here to help you get out of here. Fathers not here."
Slowly the grey eyes came into focus on his own; confusion in their depths as Sirius blinked groggily.
"Reg'lus...?" He slurred. "What're you...? Wha's hap'nin'...?
"Thank Merlin! Sirius – you've got to drink this for me," he explained, lifting the bottle from the floor. "It'll make you feel better." He hoped. He couldn't be entirely sure, but... he hoped.
"No! Don' wanna..." the older boy said, weakly pushing his hand away. Sirius' eyes were now fixed anxiously on the dark glass of the bottle he held. He regarded it in the way many would regard a snake – with fear and distrust clearly evident in his gaze.
"This will help you. Not like Father's... It will give you some strength. Hopefully enough to escape. And it should clear your mind a little. Sirius please. Drink it. I will make you, if I have to. Don't make me have to."
Sirius' eyes slowly shifted back up to meet his own and Regulus could clearly see the struggle that the other boy was undergoing. Finally, though, he nodded and, with a sigh of relief, Regulus lifted the bottle so his brother could drink.
A moment later steam was pouring out of Sirius' ears.
"Well?"
"You gave me Pepperup."
"Er... yeah. Are you feeling any better?" Colour was slowly returning to his brother's pale face.
"A little... You know I hate Pepperup."
"Well its obviously helped you, so shut up!"
Surprisingly Sirius actually obeyed and silence fell between them, only broken when Regulus finally muttered, "Come on. Let's get you out of here."
"Regulus... er...thank you. But... why?"
Regulus merely shrugged, avoiding his brother's pain-filled eyes as he helped him to his feet. He still wasn't entirely certain of the answer to that question himself. Eventually he shrugged again and gave the simplest answer. "Because you're my brother. You know, 'blood is thicker than water', and all that shit." He paused. "This doesn't mean we're friends."
"Oh."
There was no way he could ever be anything even vaguely resembling a friend to his brother. Sirius would be best to stay away from the entire family after this, and Regulus would be best to never even think about speaking to him. If his parents ever heard that he had any sort of friendly contact – and they would learn, there was no doubt about that – with him, their reaction would not be pleasant. Besides... soon he would become a Death Eater, whilst Sirius... Sirius, foolish Gryffindor that he was, would undoubtedly choose the side of the muggle-loving Dumbledore. Friendship could never be an option.
But that was all in the future. Right now he had to think about getting Sirius out of here before anyone else came looking for him.
A/N – Right... Um... I'm not entirely certain how I feel about this Chapter – or, more importantly, the first section of it. Could you guys please let me knew what you think, because I'm quite tempted to just remove it? The first section that is, not the entire thing. The chapter would still be long enough (in case you were wondering it actually managed to get up to 7000 words!) and I'm not sure whether it actually adds anything to the story. Also, what do you all think about the change in viewpoint? I tried originally to write it from Sirius' as I usually do, and it just wasn't working. Then I got started with Regulus and Arcturus, and they just wouldn't shut up! Next chapter will be back to Sirius.
Please do leave me a review. They are greatly appreciated. Thanks.
Replies to Reviews – for both chapters 11 and 12. If you reviewed 12 the reply will be to that review. If you only reviewed 11 it will be to that one. I hope I haven't missed anyone out.
Allacaya – I'm glad you like the dedication. I was glad it was you. I had decided beforehand that I was going to dedicate a chapter to my 50th reviewer and I always love getting your reviews. No, not writes block, just no time to write – or, at least, write up. I write odd, random scenes in my notepad all the time, but I need a nice stretch of time sat at the computer to link it all together into a chapter. I was thinking about you when I wrote that scene with his parents arguing – though it did actually develop out of a snippit that I'd planned to include in Ch7. He was going to overhear a similar 'discussion' about what ought to be done with him while he was delirious. It didn't really fit in that chapter though. Yeah, you're right, Kreacher did do that on purpose with the door. He's a very nasty little specimen. Um... sorry you had to wait longer than I said...
Phinea – Er... Thanks, though I think I'm glad I'm not anywhere near you. (I hope!) Despair is good, isn't it? I'm glad you liked the suicide moment. That was actually one of the first bits of this I actually wrote! Which is rather scary when I think about it... Sorry about the wait – both for the last chapter and this one.
Lhune – Um, I'm afraid the crossed fingers didn't seem to work. Ah well – here's a chapter for you. As for what his father and Voldemort are up to... I was quite surprised that no one at all remembered that letter Sirius read back in Ch2: If it is possible I shall call upon you before the New Year and will hopefully be leaving with samples. Due to Sirius' actions the lovely Arcturus wasn't ready before New Year... I've been trying very hard to keep Sirius in line with the character JKR created, and bravery is a part of his nature. As we see in the books, it takes an awful lot to completely break him – not even Azkaban does that – though he will come incredibly close to it in the course of these stories... No, I didn't like that part of the books either. In fact, I like to forget that it ever happened. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.
Celebrean – I'm really sorry about the lack of an update. I was supposed to have had two days off in the week after I last posted, which was why I said I'd be able to post again the following Sunday. As it was, I didn't actually have any. I've been working over 50 hours a week for the past month with only the odd day off every once in a while – and most of that day I spend sleeping, shopping and catching up on the house-work. Again, I'm really sorry. Believe me, it's probably been as hellish for me to not be able to write, as it's been for you not to be able to read the next chapter! If not worse...
Linker27 – I thought you might like to know that by the time I got the chapter actually up and everything it was about 1:55, maybe even close to 2:00 – I'm a dreadful fiddler. I'll go through a chapter 20 odd times, making little changes. Anyway, that means you read it in about 10-15 minutes after I posted! I'm sorry this chapter wasn't on time. There was absolutely no way it could have been on time, as it turned out. Sorry.
Willow Ann Rover – Sorry for scaring you. This chapter isn't scary. I'm not sure what this chapter is, other than long...
Marauding-siriusly – Er... sorry about the cliffie. Thanks for the review. I hope you liked this chapter as well.
Gohan Hugger – Thanks for your review. I'm glad you liked it.
Sun Kissed Rose – Thanks for you're review. I'm glad you liked the chapter so much. I hope you found this one okay... As I mentioned in my author's note, I'm not so sure about parts of it. Anyway, he's still alive, as you see. Just as, yes, he's still alive today. I agree. Denial is a very powerful thing. That part of the book didn't happen. Or, if it did, I have my own little interpretation on what happened that may, someday, be written.
Dark Nasty Angel – Thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying it.
Dumbo-Dolly – Thanks for your reviews, and for putting me on your favourites list. Here's your update. I'm sorry about the wait...
Drew Hanson – Sorry! He's your update. I hope you enjoy it. Wow – you think it's addictive. Thanks!
Jan – Thanks for your reviews! Here's your update. Don't worry, I've not given up on it yet!
Silberfell – Um, yeah – I do enjoy tormenting him. I sometimes think that maybe I'm a little odd... I am sorry about tormenting you though. I hadn't meant to leave updating so long.
Kurtcobain4eva – I was beginning to think you'd stopped reading! I'm glad you hadn't. You were my first ever reviewer after all. Here's your update.
DarkHiei – Sorry about the wait. As I said in my author's note, life went insane. Um... thanks. I'm definitely not a child. 25 today, in fact. Glad you're enjoying it.
EsCaper – I found your review very heartening. You actually came looking for my fic! Wow. Thanks. As for wondering whether enjoying the angst is 'sick'... Um... if it is, then what does that make me for enjoying writing it so much? Okay, so you don't have to answer that...
Ramis Hunroll – Thanks for your review. He will get back to Hogwarts eventually...
Maria – Thanks for your review and please do review again. I don't bite. I have to admit that I'm actually a dreadful lurker myself. I'd been reading fanfic for years before I ever actually left a review, and even now I have to really force myself to leave them. I'm honoured that you chose me to leave your first review on! Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying it and I'm sorry about the lengthening waits between updates. Hopefully our management will soon decide to employ a few new people and I can start having my days off again. Then I can get back to my weekly updates.
Leslie Lady of Light – Thanks for your review
Mily – I'm glad you liked the bit with Regulus in Ch 11 – it was meant to lead up to what happens in this chapter. I hope you still liked the way I presented him here. I'm kind of thinking of giving up on Immeritus. You're the only person who ever seems to take any real interest in it there...
WEAT-BIX – Thanks for your review. No, I agree – Sirius torture is great. I happen to think that there's not enough of it. Which is why I write it. I'm glad you liked my portrayal of Regulus. What did you think of him in this chapter?
Kangaroo – I'm glad you're enjoying the story. There will be another two following which deal with the... um... aftermath of this story. There will be a 'big fluffy marauder ending' but it won't be coming for a while I'm afraid. Thanks for your review.
Cicci Green – thanks for your review. As you've probably figured after this chapter, his father's name is Arcturus – which, along with Regulus and Spica, is one of the 'three bright stars of spring'. It's in the constellation Bootes, if you care to know, whilst Spica (Sirius' mother's name) is in Virgo, and Regulus is in Leo. The three form a right angle triangle. Um... I think I'll shut up now... I hope you still like my presentation of Regulus.
Prongs – Thanks for your review. Um... the comfort will come eventually. There should only be three or four more chapters of this story, but I can't really say what will be coming after that...
I can't believe that I've just spent most of my birthday sat at my computer. The only people I've properly spoken to are my sister and my nephew, and that's only because I share a house with them. Does that make me really pathetic...? I think it does. I need to get myself a life, don't I? Ah well.
Bye-de-byes
Misthea
