"Shhh," Sirius giggled, holding up a finger to his lips. He could still hear the sound of muffled voices coming from the hall downstairs.
Regulus clamped a hand over his mouth to quiet the raucous laughter that was brimming inside of him. His shoulders shook with mirth and he scooted closer to Sirius on the drawing room floor. Both boys were laying on their stomachs, their latin homework flipped over and the parchments' backside was now covered in their sketches.
Sirius had just displayed his drawing, a very unattractive version of their mother with her hair standing on edge and long fangs, enticing them both to try their best impersonations of the formidable Walburga, sending them both into fits of giggles.
"Okay, Reg," Sirius said once his laughter had quietly subsided. "Show me your drawing."
He happily complied and dragged his paper across the floor so they could see it.
"That one's you! And that one is me," he said, pointing a finger to the two stick figures holding hands on the page. Even at the young age of seven, he had managed to draw the traditional ruffled shirts that they had to wear most evenings, complete with buttons, bow ties, and all.
Sirius smiled. "I love it! But what's that?" he asked, pointing to the last rudimentary sketch.
A smile stretched across Regulus's young face and he pressed himself against Sirius' side to explain. "That's a dog! Wouldn't it be so cool if we had a dog? It would play with us, and it would be so big that we could ride it around! I've seen dogs outside and they seem so-"
"WHAT. DID YOU DO," came a screech from the doorway, punctuated by a bang as the door was thrown so far open that it slammed against the wall.
Sirius and Regulus froze. Apparently, they had been so enraptured by their drawings that Sirius had forgotten to listen for the sound of the front door closing. He glanced at his younger brother and saw that he was trembling; his eyes were wide with fear.
Steeling himself, Sirius pushed himself to his feet, grabbing onto their drawings all the while and shoving them down the back of his pants so that Walburga wouldn't see them. Regulus followed suit, slowly getting to his feet and automatically placing himself slightly behind Sirius. His eyes were down, staring at his mother's shoes and he shuffled his feet nervously across the floor while Sirius stared resolutely up at his mother, his stance firm and fists clenched.
"You have brought SHAME on this household," Walburga continued, her voice shaking with repressed rage. "I pay for the two of you to have a private tutor and how do you repay me?"
"We never asked-"
"DON'T INTERRUPT ME!" she screamed, spit flying across the room as she stalked forward. Her chest heaved with deep breaths and she seemed to regain her composure. "You repay me by wasting his time with complaints and facetious questions and jokes. You run around like uncultured, muggle filth instead of learning the valuable skills that-"
"But they're boring, Mum!"
"I SAID DON'T INTERRUPT!"
Now, she was so close that her spittle landed on Sirius and he had to raise a sleeve to wipe it away.
"You have gone too far, Sirius! You have dragged Regulus into your shenanigans, teaching him your disreputable and disgraceful ways that bring shame on this family!" Her face was tinged with fury, though her hair was still pulled into the tight chiffon and her teeth were perfectly straight rather than pointed into fangs. Nonetheless, Sirius couldn't help but admire the likeness to his own image.
Before he could notice what was happening, her wand was in her hand and she quickly slashed it down in a venomous arc. Pain split across his cheek like he had been slapped and Sirius fell to the ground with a yelp and even with the ringing in his ears, he heard Regulus begin to sob. On all fours, Sirius raised a tentative hand to his cheek and felt the welt beginning to form under his fingers.
Walburga leered down at him, not even deigning to bend or crouch down to his level. "You will do well to remember this moment. You are nine years old now. That means you are old enough to understand the responsibility that comes with being a Black," she hissed.
Tears were streaming down Regulus's face, but Sirius refused to let his tears escape. He stared up defiantly at his mother, knowing that he definitely would remember this moment, though for very different reasons. It was the first time, though not the last, that she raised her wand against her own son.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Regulus cried, rocking back and forth.
Walburga smiled, the expression more eerie than her scowl, and she lay a hand atop his head, patting his hair gently. "I know you are. And I know that you won't make the same mistake of getting involved with your brother's mischief again, hmm?"
She turned on her heel, her black dress swishing around her ankles and walked out of the room.
Regulus threw himself into Sirius' arms, still whispering "I'm sorry" over and over again.
"Shh," Sirius whispered back, holding him in his arms. "It's okay. I'm okay. Really, it looks worse than it feels."
Regulus' tears stained his wrinkled white shirt and as his shoulders began to shake less and less, Sirius chanced a glass in the reflective table top near them. A reddish-purplish stripe was stretched across his cheek and his whole face was throbbing with the magically magnified pain, but he bit back his own sobs. Instead, he stroked Regulus's back and continued to whisper comfortingly to him.
"Shhh, everything will be okay."
Sirius groaned and staggered into his room, leaning heavily on the door handle, then slid down the wall and shut the door with a kick. He let his head fall back against the wall and his lanky legs were sprawled out in front of him. Biting his lip to stop any sound from escaping, he leaned forward and tugged off his bow tie and shirt, ignoring the flare of pain that came with the movement. He flung the bow tie across the room haphazardly and balled the shirt into a ball.
Wincing every time he pressed the shirt against his chest, he hissed in pain as he began the painfully slow process of dabbing away the blood. Two long gashes were stretched across his chest, starting at either shoulder and intersecting along one ribcage, mirroring his mother's furious swipes.
Just one more month, he thought to himself, not for the first time. Not even for the first time that evening or hour.
Downstairs, the sounds of laughter and the piano melded into a symphony of a dinner party, their entire extended family playing their roles, continuing as if nothing had happened. Walburga and Orion certainly hoped that their family would do the polite thing and ignore the 'traditional' scolding that had happened in the kitchen. Sure, the comeuppance was away from the prying eyes of the party, but only because Orion had physically dragged Sirius away. And sure they had cast a silencing charm on him, but only after Sirius had erupted angrily and got his fair share of arguments out. He couldn't remember exactly what he had said in that kitchen, but it certainly wasn't pretty. Although, he did vividly remember putting his latin lessons to good use and cursing the entire family in the beautifully ancient language.
And all because Walburga had said…
"You're so fortunate you were able to see him in person, sister. I haven't had the chance to yet, but I've seen all of his pamphlets and flyers and the like. I must say, I think he has the right ideas."
Just one more month, Sirius thought to himself from the couch where he was pressed between Regulus and Andromeda with Bellatrix on her other side. Of course the children weren't allowed to go off and play on their own. No, they had to sit with the adults and listen to their backward politics so that they grew up thinking in the same backwards way.
"Yes, originally I had always thought that muggles should be our main concern, though he convinced me otherwise. He thinks that mudbloods should be our top priority since muggles pose no real threat to witches or wizards. But mudbloods are dangerous. If they were able to steal magic for themselves, who knows what other self-interested acts they're capable of! They could steal magic for more muggles or start an uprising against the purest of us!" Druella said, reaching a hysterical pitch.
"What a load of-," Sirius murmured.
"Sirius! Stop, it's not worth it!" Andromeda instantly hissed back.
One more month until I'm out of here.
"Mmm, very true," Cygnus grunted from over his glass. A pinkish tinge had blushed his cheeks, and though his sight had started to blur around the edges, his words were as enunciated and proper as ever.
"This family can't even get drunk properly," Andromeda whispered into Sirius' ear. He grinned, pleased to know that his only sane cousin was on the same page with him.
"It's certainly the mudbloods we have to watch out for," Orion acknowledged, leaning forward in his seat. "But what about the half breeds? They're so far from the pure race we could be that they seem as dangerous to the cause as any."
"Yes, but they didn't steal magic, Orion. They aren't pretending to be something they're not," Druella insisted. With a deep breath, she bristled and hurriedly returned to her story. "But after Vol-the Dark Lord convinced me of this small fact, he politely inquired as to our family's stance. Apparently, he's looking for pureblood support. So naturally, I assured him of our family's continued interest in the cause and I assured him that we had the purest blood, going all the way back to Licorus and Magenta Black," she finished with pride.
"How about before that?" Sirius blurted out before he could stop himself.
Every eye swiveled towards him and the piano keys under Narcissa's fingers stumbled. Regulus cowered into the corner of the couch, Bellatrix leaned forward off the couch cushions to crane her neck around her sister, and Andromeda's face was void of all color.
"W-What?" Druella asked, feigning politeness.
"You said that we can trace our magical blood back to my great-great-great-great grandparents-" Sirius squinted one eye as he counted off the 'greats,' trying to keep track of them all "-but what about before that?" Sirius asked again, working hard to keep his face neutral, the image of natural youthful curiosity.
"Well… it was certainly someone else of magical blood if that's what you're worried about. We just don't know their name," Druella answered placatingly, eyeing her irate sister-in-law cautiously.
"Sirius-" Andromeda hissed warningly.
"What if they were muggle-born though? What if they were the start to our family line?"
Narcissa stopped playing all together to stare across the room at Sirius, the dearth of gentle melodies adding to the tension. Orion shoved himself to his feet, slammed his glass down onto the side table, and stormed across the room. He reached out and grabbed Sirius by his bow tie, pulling him from the sofa and out of the room. Walburga was barely a step behind them, assuring the family that Sirius just needed a reminder about their family's glorious history before they would return and begging them to please, continue eating and drinking without them.
An hour or so later, after the screaming match in the kitchen ended with a silent and bleeding Sirius storming up the stairs and his parents returning to the parlor like nothing was the matter, the door squeaked open to admit a downcast Regulus.
"Why do you always have to disagree with them?" he asked quietly, shutting the door behind him. He automatically came to sit beside Sirius and he took the balled up shirt, damp with blood, and continued to blot at his brother's chest.
Sirius grinned. "Because they're always wrong."
Regulus didn't say anything, his pale lips were apparently glued together with worry and his eyes were focused on the task at hand.
"How was the rest of the party?" Sirius eventually asked. He had always hated the silence. There was too much opportunity to get lost in his head full of thoughts and memories. His eyes were closed, but he still winced occasionally when Regulus found a particularly sensitive spot.
"As boring and torturous as ever," he replied calmly.
"But I bet you were a good little boy and kept your mouth shut, huh?" Sirius asked sardonically. Then he laughed a laugh devoid of any humor. "That's good, Reg. I'm glad you can keep quiet when it's good for you, unlike me."
Regulus stopped his blotting and Sirius opened his eyes so that their gazes met. "Why?" Regulus whispered.
Sirius cocked his head and gave a gentle smile to his little brother. "I won't be here to watch out for you in a few weeks. If you keep a calm head, you'll be safe."
"I don't need you to protect me," Regulus said defensively.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "What a way to say thank you for taking the fall all the time."
"You've never-"
"Last week, when you broke that vase on accident. Or when you spilled tea on your freshly pressed shirt and I said I bumped into you. Or when you laughed too hard, disrupting their quiet reading time, and I said I made a joke when it was really just you being too emotionally invested in a book. Or that one time-"
"Okay! Okay!" Regulus interrupted with a small smile. He looked down as his cheeks flamed up. "Thank you."
Sirius smiled back and let Regulus get back to his cleaning. "Of course. You're so young, you shouldn't have to go through that."
"You're not much older and you shouldn't have to either."
"No, but better one of us than both of us."
Regulus pursed his lips but said nothing.
"See? You're much better at staying quiet when you disagree," Sirius laughed.
"Why did you really ask that?" Regulus questioned, flipping the shirt inside out in search of a spot of clean fabric. "Were you just trying to get a rise out of Mother or were you trying to prove your defiance or something?"
Sirius furrowed his brow and sat up straighter. "What? No, I said that because they're all prejudiced pigs who are blinded by hatred and their love of feeling important."
Regulus went back to blotting at Sirius' scars, but they had mostly stopped bleeding so Sirius raised a tentative hand and gently pushed the shirt to the ground.
"Reg," he said softly, a hint of concern in his typically confident voice. "Don't tell me you actually believe all that stuff."
He shrugged indecisively. "I don't know, but I also don't know how mudbloods-"
"Muggle borns," Sirius interrupted with anger beginning to flush his cheeks.
"-got their magic. Or why wizards still have to hide from muggles when they're the ones without any power."
With a new burst of energy, Sirius jumped to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his chest. He cracked the door open and peeked out.
"Where are our parents?" he asked.
"Upstairs. In their bedroom," he replied bewilderedly. Though he barely had time to get the words out before Sirius grabbed him by the hand and pulled him from the room.
They raced quietly down the hall, Sirius leading the way, and they spun around the banister at the ground level, tearing down the hallway to the front door. Sirius carelessly pushed Regulus to the window parallel to the door and pointed at the glass wearing a victorious smile.
"What do you see?" Sirius demanded.
"Er… just a bunch of muggles," Regulus shrugged, unimpressed.
"Exactly! Just a bunch of muggles, living their happy, muggle, magic-free lives! And see how happy they are? Oh, except for that guy over there. He looks pretty sad. But see? Look at all that emotion, all that life, Reg! They're still human!"
"But they don't have power, right? So aren't they kinda-"
"See that family, right across the street?" Sirius interrupted. "The one with the young mum and dad and that little toddler?"
"Yeah?"
"See how the mum is hugging the kid and kissing him? And look! The Dad is tickling the little tyke, making him laugh," Sirius prodded, trying to ignore the new pang in his chest that had nothing to do with the long gashes; it was a pang full of longing for the life that could have been.
"Yeah..." Regulus dragged the word out, unsure of where this was going.
"Do you think mother or father have the power to do that? Do they, in all of their pureblood, magical bones, have the power to operate a family like a sane adult?"
Regulus scoffed. "Apparently not."
"No they do not!" Sirius said, far too happily. "Muggles are just like us, but with no magic. It's that simple. But that doesn't mean their lives are somehow worthless. They're just like us, though it seems like a lot of them have actual families."
Regulus nodded and continued to stare at the muggle toddler, wrapped up in his parents arms and love, until the family walked away, the child swinging and skipping between his parents' hands.
"They're just like us," Regulus finally parrotted in the dimming light.
"We may have sucky parents, but you'll always have me Reg. Even when I'm off at Hogwarts next year. And in two years, you'll come join me!"
"And then we'll have all of our cousins too! We can all play together in the Slytherin dormitory and eat at the Slytherin table and go to the Quidditch games, all dressed up in our green and silver," he rambled excitedly
"Yeah…," Sirius said half-heartedly. He knew Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, but he just didn't have the guts to turn his poor brother's world upside down twice in one evening.
Grimmauld Place leered down at Sirius, its foreboding walls towering above him and stretching into the dismal sky. From across the street, Sirius glanced at his watch and saw that he was due inside ten minutes ago.
Damn, he thought. I expected that to take longer.
He cocked his head and bounced his leg, deep in thought, earning quite a few strange looks from muggles who stared at the young teen curiously. He was, after all, staring at a building that according to them, didn't exist, while toying with a silver handheld mirror and leaning against a park fence.
"Good evening," he muttered to an elderly couple who ambled by him. Then he shoved himself off the park fence and strode across the street and up the stairs outside number 12. But instead of knocking or letting himself in, he sunk onto the top stoop and flipped the mirror over.
"James Potter," he said clearly.
He spun the mirror aimlessly in his hand, waiting for the face of his best friend to appear. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long.
"Hey Padfoot," James grinned through the glass. "What are you up to?"
"Oh, just trying to delay the inevitable," Sirius bemoaned. He held up the mirror so James could surmise that he was sitting outside Grimmauld Place. "You?"
"Just finished dinner with my parents."
"Finished? Merlin, I forget how early your lot eats."
James shrugged. "They're not as young and spry as your delightful folks."
Sirius grinned and the minutes slipped by easily, both boys tactfully and skillfully zoning out the babel emanating from behind Sirius until eventually, approximately fifteen minutes later, a cacophony of sound erupted from inside Grimmauld Place. Something had crashed to the ground and an enraged yet inaudible shout added to the din.
Sirius winced. "I guess that's my cue."
"You sure?" James asked, his expression wrought with concern. He looked like if jumping through the mirror to join Sirius was an option, he would have dove right through by now.
With a forced, tight-lipped smile, Sirius nodded. "See ya." Then he shoved the mirror into the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door.
Instantly, Walburga's loud voice hit his ears in a tidal wave of fury. Sirius quietly padded down the entrance hall and taking a deep breath, he plunged into the dining room where the rest of the family was already assembled. For a moment, everyone was quiet as they took in his sudden appearance.
"Good evening," Sirius said cheekily, hands in the pockets of his Levi's.
Regulus glared at him from his chair at the table, arms crossed and dressed in the appropriately pressed suit. Though now that he was older, he had unambiguously ditched the ruffles for a simple, plain shirt. Orion had a cigar in one hand as he leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowed broodingly. Walburga's fingers tapped against her crossed arms and her chin was stuck up so high that Sirius wondered how she could still see him.
"You ungrateful brat!" she hissed. "You're late. Again."
"Am I?" Sirius asked and made a show of checking his watch. "My bad, though I'm honored you waited for me. It was quite unnecessary." He edged his way around his father towards his seat, the one straight across from Regulus.
"The time is the same every evening, Sirius. Six-thirty, on the dot. It's not that hard," Orion said condescendingly, leaning against the back of his chair now.
"It seems my evening stroll took longer than planned. My sincerest apologies," Sirius drolled on, pulling out his chair with a mock bow and flourish.
"It took exactly as long as you planned," Walburga accused from the opposite end of the table. "You dedicate your pathetic life to vexing us and ruining our well-oiled machine."
"Regulus has managed to be on time without fail every evening since as long as we can remember. I'm not sure why you have such trouble with the simple task," Orion added on almost lazily.
Sirius rolled his eyes and plopped into his seat. "I'd love to listen to your lecture about punctuality, but dinner is already late so can we at least eat while I listen? Or is multitasking not your forte."
Walburga narrowed her eyes at her eldest son and whipped out a finger, pointing it straight at his nose.
"Walburga! He's right. Let's not let the food go cold," Orion capitulated.
She scoffed but sucked in a deep breath and sunk into her seat nonetheless. Her back was straight, not even touching the firm chair, and her hands were clasped in her lap with her shoulders positioned just so, so that no part of her body was facing Sirius.
Orion clapped his hands twice from his seat and called out, "Kreacher! First course."
Right on cue, out bustled the house elf with four plates of lucious salad levitating before him. With a snap of his fingers, the plates flew in front of each silently stewing Black and settled themselves down without a sound. Kreacher bowed and backed out of the room, his eyes never leaving the floor.
"Let's move on to another topic, shall we?" Orion offered pleasantly, his tone belying the coldness still lingering in his eyes. "Regulus, what did you do today?"
Regulus looked up abruptly from his plate, the little color he had draining from his face. "The usual, father," he mumbled.
"Speak up, son. Have confidence!" Orion boomed, slamming his fist against the table, with what he clearly thought was a fatherly smile, rather than a demeaning scowl.
"I just read and studied. Nothing of interest," Regulus said, his voice slightly louder than before, but his eyes still glued to his fork.
"What a useful way to spend your time," Walburga cooed. "What did you study today?"
He cleared his throat. "Spells and magical theory."
"Theory of the dark arts, more like," Sirius muttered under his breath.
Regulus scowled in his direction and while Orion was at least pretending not to hear his other son, Walburga's head whipped around.
"I don't see why you have to take that tone when discussing the finer arts of magic, boy. Those are the requirements to make any sort of use of yourself nowadays."
"I think I define my own usefulness very differently than you do," Sirius replied pleasantly.
"You are sixteen. You are fully unaware of what is needed in the real world," said his mother, leaning forward with the back end of her fork digging into the table.
"Though Regulus is old enough to know, isn't that right?" he quipped, with a cocked eyebrow at his brother.
"He listens to his elders and clearly, he understands quite a bit better than you," Orion added.
"Other students your age have already made their paths quite clear, you know," Walburga continued haughtily. "Bellatrix has already begun to rise in the ranks of the Dark Lord. At such a young age, it's quite impressive."
"Good for her. I heard Macnair and that Travers boy recently joined as well," Orion added.
"Really? Their parents must be so proud. I'll have to have Kreacher send them something," Walburga said, nodding to herself.
"Do you think there's an age requirement?" Orion asked, leering at his eldest son.
"I've asked," Regulus interrupted. "If you show your interest early enough, he may take members as early as sixteen years of age, so long as they show genuine commitment, promise, and skill."
Sirius' fork clattered to the table and he pressed his sweaty palm against his jeans to stop them from visibly shaking. Regulus' tone was so… practical. Pragmatic. Like it was a textbook definition that he had been asked to share.
Walburga perked up considerably. "Well, if you've already shown your interest as a fourteen-year-old, just by asking around, then I'd say you'll have a leg up if you join in a few years!" She reached out and laid an adoring hand on his shoulder while Regulus tried to refrain from flinching.
"That's wonderful, son," Orion praised, though his voice was as stolid as ever. "That must be why you're studying so hard. To prove your skill."
"See, Sirius?" Walburga said, her voice as sharp as a knife. "Regulus is already on the way to having an excellent career in bettering society."
"His career will be murdering anyone who opposes Voldemort," Sirius said, his steely gaze boring into Regulus's forehead.
"His career will be cleansing society and doing the necessary deeds for our kind to live in a better place," Walburga shot back, auguring no room for disagreement.
Though Sirius was hardly listening. "You'll be killing innocent people. If you join them, there's no turning back. They won't let you out once you're in."
Regulus paled and his scowl lessened somewhat. Sirius could see his words leaving some sort of impact, so he pressed on. He had to remember, even if his parents or those other Slytherin students trying to rip his brother away from him didn't, that Regulus was still just an impressionable kid who was constantly trying to appease his carping parents to survive this wretched household.
"You'll be tearing apart harmless families every day who have done nothing wrong-"
"A necessary cost for the life we could be living!" Walburga screamed over him.
"I know what the job entails," Regulus sneered, his conviction returning.
"Do you? So you're okay with killing students at our own school? In your own house? There's Elise Haywood, a Slytherin muggle-born. Or how about Lily Evans? The brightest witch in the year," Sirius said, his hands shaking so that his voice wouldn't. He tried not to imagine the kind, red-head at the mercy of the Death-Eaters, yet they all knew that she was a primary target for those that were running around Hogwarts. She was a proud and capable muggle-born, after all. That plus having hot-headed friends like him and James, she was bound to draw unwanted attention.
Regulus's chest was heaving and he glared at his brother, anger surging through his bones while letting his parents speak for him.
"You dare speak of those mudblood filth as if they aren't thieves and-"
"Don't you dare call my friends that!" Sirius shouted back.
"You're mad I called them a mudblood when that's what they are?" Walburga taunted with a malicious grin. She let out a mirthless laugh, the high pitch ringing out eerily and rebounding around the room. "You're mad when I'm not the one besmirching our family name every day by spending time and writing letters to mudbloods and half-breeds and pureblood traitors?"
"How dare you!" Sirius raged. Somehow, he was on his feet now and his chair had fallen backwards: some instinct had taken over him. "Those are my friends and just because you're so prejudiced and hateful that you can't see them as human beings doesn't mean you have to teach Regulus your backward ways!"
"Don't talk back!" Orion ordered, rising to his feet too. "We are your parents! We-"
"Unfortunately," Sirius cut in.
"We demand respect!" he finished. "You don't respect our heritage. You don't respect our ways of life. You-"
"Your ways of life depend on THREATENING innocent people. My FRIENDS! MY FAMILY!" Sirius screamed.
"THEY ARE NOT YOUR FAMILY! WE ARE YOUR FAMILY!" Walburga screeched back.
Sirius scoffed and shook his head. "No. You're not. You're crazy, that's what you are."
"WE ARE NOT CRAZY FOR WANTING TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE! FOR OFFERING TO BETTER SOCIETY-"
"BY WIPING OUT MUGGLES AND MUGGLE-BORNS!"
"BY WIPING OUT THE SCUM OF THE EARTH!"
Sirius stared at his mother. Both of them were leaning heavily against the table, their chests heaving indignantly. Even though Sirius had not yet finished growing, he still matched his imposing mother's height and glared at her evenly, loathing her more and more every second.
"Regulus will join the admirable Death Eaters in a few short years, as he has already shared his own intentions to do so, and will fight for the right cause. It's time you choose your path, Sirius," she spat, though her voice was terrifyingly calm.
Orion stood straight, shoulders square, as he prepared himself for the blow he knew was coming.
Regulus sat up straighter in his seat and watched his older brother, studying him for any signs of hesitation and finding himself hoping for what he knew would never be.
Sirius' gaze never wavered from his mother's. "I already chose my path. I chose it five years ago when I begged the Sorting Hat not to put me in Slytherin. I begged it and you want to know what it said?" He paused, letting the tension grow dramatically. "It said that Slytherin wasn't even an option for me. And that was the proudest day of my life."
Walburga scoffed haughtily, pretending that every sentence he spoke wasn't a slap to the face, and shook her head at her son in disappointment.
"Well, then. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, that you would grow out of this silly phase of yours. But you have forced our hand. You are forbidden from seeing your friends again. Regulus or one of your cousins will keep an eye out and alert us if you so much as sit near any of those freaks."
Sirius laughed with actual amusement for the first time that evening. "I live with them, Mother. Staying away from them might be difficult, even if I had any intention of listening to you or following your preposterous rules."
"You will change dormitories! Regulus, if you see your brother-"
"Don't bring him into this!" Sirius yelled, pointing at the immobile form of Regulus across the table. "You've already spoon-fed him your prejudiced lies and he's gobbled them up like candy. Isn't that enough?"
"If you see your brother cohorting with that traitorous Potter, the werewolf, that blond boy, or Merlin-forbid, that mudblood Evans girl, you write to us straight home!" Walburga said, her hysterical voice reaching an apogee that rose above Sirius's.
Sirius kicked his chair out of his way. "WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT CALLING THEM THAT!"
Walburga smiled victoriously. "You hear me, Regulus?"
Sirius scoffed and began walking backwards out of the room slowly. "Get your quill ready, Reg. You'll be writing a lot of letters home this term since we all know you would never dare question an order from dear mumsie, even when you know it's absurd."
Regulus at least had the decency to look away in shame while Sirius stormed out of the room. He threw open the door and made it to the base of the staircase when he collapsed to the floor, his head barely missing the first time. Initially, he didn't realize what had caused it; then he felt a searing pain across his face.
He reached up to feel across his jaw and his fingers came back warm with blood. His breath caught in his throat as the same white-hot pain seared across his side, crawling to the front of his chest, seeping his favorite band t-shirt with blood. He managed to flip himself over onto his side in time to see his mother, towering over him with a haughty smile dancing across her horrid lips, her wand held delicately between both hands.
"I warned you to remember what happens when you go against the Black family name. It is time you felt the full wrath of all that is honorable."
Sirius frantically groped in his back pocket for his wand, but his hand was shaking violently and every breath was taking more effort than he had ever remembered. His throbbing jaw and chest screamed in agony with every movement, but his mind overrode them both to scream in victory when he finally managed to get a firm grasp on his wand.
But he was too late.
"Crucio!" she screeched, the light casting eerie shadows across her face. Sirius saw Regulus stumble out of the kitchen just before the light hit him.
Then he could see nothing.
Nothing but pain like he had never even imagined. Searing agony. Knives were cutting across his body-into every bone, every muscle. Every nerve was being torn apart, stitched back together, and torn apart again. His skin was on fire, yet freezing cold.
He heard his wand clatter onto the wooden floor and he heard himself scream, though he wasn't aware of doing so.
He felt nothing but his very limbs being pulled off his torso. It had gone on for too long. Surely it would end soon, surely merciful death would come to end this soon. Just black out, just faint already. If he would just die, he would be free. Just die and it will end. Just die just die just die just…
And then it was over.
Sirius opened his eyes, panting. His vision swam before him; the base of the first step was swaying up and down. His legs had curled in on himself and his hands were trembling, so much so that he didn't even bother trying to reach for his wand. Instead, he used the last vestiges of his energy to raise his head and stare blurrily at his mother.
She looked down at him with an intense hatred he had yet to see: as if he was no more than gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. Without a word, she turned on her heel and strode down the hall, back into the kitchen where Orion was waiting, watching the whole scene with nothing but mild shock frozen to his face.
"Come, Regulus," she said from the doorway. "We haven't even finished our first course yet."
Regulus was trembling against the door frame, shock etched into his pale features. His dark eyes couldn't help but stare at his older brother, the always bold and cocky Sirius, curled up on the floor before him and suddenly what lies before the path he had chosen finally set in.
Sirius groaned and let his head fall back to the floor, his eyes fluttering closed. With a grunt of effort, he forced his sweaty palms onto the floorboards and pushed his trembling body to all fours. He managed to grab his wand in a full fist and heave himself up into a standing position, leaning fully on the railing and sagging against its sturdy weight.
"Regulus!" Walburga called from the table, as if she was calling a dog.
Regulus glanced back, apparently torn between loyalties. Then he hurried forward, towards Sirius, and wrapped one arm around his suffering brother. Sirius moaned in pain when Regulus's hand touched his arm, but Regulus only held on tighter. Together, they managed to get up the flights of stairs and into his bedroom.
"Just sit still, I'll grab a towel or a rag or something," Regulus said in a panic, his eyes frantically scanning the room before darting to the door when his search came up short.
"Wait!" Sirius called out thickly, though the effort sent a bout of racking coughs through his chest, shaking his whole body.
Regulus froze in place and turned around again, though his eyes never stayed on Sirius.
"I'm leaving, Reg," Sirius said simply. The decision had been made as soon as he had hit the ground, his resolve only hardening as they made the trek up the stairs. One thing was for certain: he wasn't coming back here in this lifetime. He wasn't trembling any longer, now that he had a firm plan and list in his head of what he needed to grab before he made his escape.
The first of which, being his brother.
"Come with me," he begged. "You've seen how horrible they are. We'll be safe together, away from here. Please, just come with me."
Regulus' expression clouded over. "So you're abandoning me? Again?"
"What? No! Didn't you just hear me? Come with me, Reg! The Potters will take us in! We'll be safe and happy there, just until I can get us our own place."
"Of course. You're leaving me for him. Your actual family, as you make so abundantly clear every instance you can," Regulus spat.
"What do-"
"Look at this room, for Merlin's sake!" Regulus cried, throwing up his hands in despair. Gryffindors posters, muggle magazines, and pictures of his friends were all posted along every part of the wall that Sirius could fill, all with permanent sticking spells. "Be honest, you left this family years ago. You left me years ago."
Now Regulus had found the resolve in him to stare hard at Sirius and his bruised face, the gash running along his jaw slowly dripping with blood. His cold, calculating countenance mirrored Walburga's so closely that Sirius had to force himself not to shudder.
"I never left you, Reg. I just went to Hogwarts and you came when you were old enough. That's just the way the school works."
"You used to write me letters. Almost every day, just like you promised. Then you got your new friends, your new family, and you stopped writing to me. I would get a letter once a month if I was lucky. Not even a note so I knew you were thinking of me as much as I was thinking of you! I had to deal with Mother and Father all alone with not even your words to console me!"
"I know all about having to deal with them by myself! You did for a few months, congrats," Sirius taunted sarcastically, their voices rising on top of each other's. "I did for the first eleven years!"
"I didn't ask for you to protect me like I'm some… some weakling!"
"You didn't have to ask!" Sirius shouted back, the frustration belying his repressed affection.
The two brothers stared at each other; anger, resentment, as well as hope and longing were boiling within them. Sirius was leaning against his bed, one hand draped across his bleeding side and chest. Regulus was standing in the middle of the room, his jaw working furiously as he came to a decision. Then he walked towards the open door.
"Fine," Sirius scoffed, the sound coming out as a throaty cough. "Run back to your dear mother and father and all of their twisted ways."
"I'm just closing the door," Regulus said in despair, his head hanging. Sure enough, he shut the door, then strode to Sirius's closet, reaching in for a bag and beginning to fill it haphazardly with clothes, both clean and dirty, and anything that seemed somewhat important.
He worked silently, Sirius watching him curiously. Eventually, Sirius used his wand to send a few other items that Regulus had missed into the open duffle bag.
"You're not allowed to use magic, Sirius," Regulus chastised weakly.
Sirius laughed, though it sounded as feeble as he felt. "Your mother just used an Unforgivable Curse on me and that's the magic you're protesting?"
"She's your mother too," Regulus said quietly.
"Not anymore. And she doesn't have to be yours if you just come with me. I'll protect you from the others. We'll deal with the rest of this sordid family together, Reg. You and me. Please."
Regulus sighed and zipped up the duffle bag. "Am I missing anything?"
"Regulus… please… don't-don't do this. Don't stay here, in this disgusting place."
He drew himself up and looked at Sirius with an expression as cold and straight as the dead. His crisp white shirt had specks of blood on one side and his dark hair was spilling over, into his haunted eyes. "You said you chose your path five years ago when you asked to be put in Gryffindor. That sent you away from this family, away from me, and determined my path too."
Sirius was stunned. His mouth hung open while he searched for what to say. "You can't put that on me. That's-that's absurd, that's what that is! We're all free to choose our own paths. You can change your mind now! It's not too late!" Sirius urged and he tried to sit forward, the pain coursing through his veins almost forgotten in his desperation. Almost.
"Well sorry if I don't have the courage to throw away everything I've ever known! If all I know is self-preservation. Isn't that what they all say? That Slytherins only know how to take care of themselves?" Regulus spat, his voice dripping with self-loathing and tears unwillingly seeping out of his eyes.
"Reg-"
"I'll be right back," he said, storming from the room, leaving Sirius to his thoughts for only the briefest of moments. Then he returned, holding his pouch of floo powder. Sirius's had been confiscated by Orion earlier that summer when he had used it without permission to visit the Potters.
"Come on. Let's get you to a fireplace. There's no way you're getting on a broomstick right now," he murmured. He held out his hand to Sirius and after a moment of tense staring, Sirius took hold of his forearm and let himself get pulled to his feet. He stumbled at first, trying to find his balance since everything felt woozy, like his mind was operating at half its usual pace. Regulus threw Sirius's arm around his shoulders, none too gently, and half-pulled, half-led Sirius to the nearest fireplace which happened to be down one flight of steps.
"Regulus! Come finish your dinner!" Orion shouted out of the dining room door that was cracked open.
"Just keep moving," Regulus murmured.
"Would you look at that. You're not just their golden puppy after all," Sirius muttered back.
Once inside the drawing room, Regulus promptly deposited Sirius onto the sofa who groaned in pain as his wounded side hit the cushion. He watched as his younger brother took his bags and marched to the fireplace, setting his belongings on the floor with as much care as he had with Sirius. Then he threw in some of the floo powder, leaned over the flames to say the destination, and tossed in his bags. He had to repeat the process again to send Sirius' broomstick and school trunk on their way, but then Sirius was all that was left.
Regulus stared at the empty fireplace for a moment, watching as the dust settled itself back onto the brick firebox in a fine film. Sucking in a breath, he dusted off his hands and turned towards Sirius, his hand already extended to pull him to his feet.
"Looks like this is it," Regulus said meekly, all of his previous harshness lost somewhere in the depths of fear and betrayal.
"It's not too late, Reg. Come with me," Sirius whispered hoarsely, still gripping his forearm.
He shook his head. "I-I can't."
"You can! Just take the plunge and I'll be there for you, every step of the way."
Regulus's scowl returned. "I'm not falling for that promise again. No, this… this is where I belong. This is home. It's everything I know."
"But you could know so much more, Regulus. You deserve more."
Regulus drew in a deep breath, drawing in all of the resolute decisiveness he could. "I've chosen my path."
Sirius looked down at him hopelessly.
"Go," Regulus demanded. "They'll come looking soon."
Nodding, Sirius turned, swayed slightly, then managed to duck into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder.
"Stay safe, Reg. And it's never too late," Sirius said, his words coming out slightly slurred. He gazed at his brother, squinting to make out his slightly blurred form. "See you at Hogwarts."
Regulus squeezed his lips together and fought the urge to jump into the swirling green flames with him. He knew where his future lay, and it was not with delusions of grandeur or false ideals of equality that could never be. His future was one of honor, loyalty, and being a part of history. He forced his feet to stay glued to the floor and shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them from reaching out to his brother-the only family member that felt like family.
"Potter's mansion," Sirius said firmly, dropping the floo powder and tucking his arms into his sides.
"See you at Hogwarts," Regulus whispered back through tears, though Sirius was already long gone.
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this collection! I'm working on a part 2 to this story right now, so stay tuned. Let me know what you thought in the review or if you have any story ideas or thoughts!
Reviews always make me more happy than you can possibly imagine!
