16. Christmas Eve (Sirius)
"Can I help?"
Sirius leaned against the side of the doorway eying his mother in the dining room. She was in the middle of setting the table, laying out emerald green napkins by each person's seat. The white linen tablecloth she always brought down from the attic for special occasions was spread over the table. On top stood white chinaware, gleaming drinking glasses of various heights, and newly polished silverware and candelabras. Each person had received at least two sets of everything. A delicate ribbon of silver glitter was draped around the walls of the room. When Sirus spoke, his mother stopped and put down the pile of napkins on the table and turned to him.
Her eyes were glazed with the same, quite indifferent look she's had every time she'd looked at him since he came home. It made Sirius uneasy, because he thought he glimpsed something more intense underneath. Like she had pulled a film over her eyes to hide her true emotions. But he couldn't quite make out what it was, Anger? Suspicion? Triumph? Sirius hadn't been home for Christmas since his second year at Hogwarts. He was almost never home at all. She must be wondering what the fuck he was doing there.
"Well you could start by getting dressed" she said in a snotty tone, eyeing him up and down. "And you will do something about that hair." She herself had already changed into her dress robes completed with big fancy earrings in matching colour.
Sirius pursed his lips. "I just thought I shouldn't get changed before we've finished the preparations." he said, keeping his voice restrained. "So my clothes don't get dirty."
His mother didn't look very impressed. "Get dressed," she repeated.
Sirius eyed her for a moment as she returned to her napkins. He let out an ironic "Right" before turning around. He managed to take exactly one step before his mother cut in.
"Sirius," she said firmly.
Sirius swung back around. "What?" he snapped, even though he knew he was only making it worse.
"I don't want you to talk to me that way," she said sharply and slowly.
Sirius looked at her in silence. No, I know. You've told me before. A million times. Just like I've told you a million times that I'll be polite when you are.
"Is there a problem?" she pressed on.
"No."
"Good. Then get dressed."
Without another word, Sirius left the dining room a second time and made his way through the house up to his bedroom. Every room he passed was neatly decorated with glitter, floating candles and magic snow falling in heaps on the floor. Refreshments were crammed onto sofa tables.
At first sight, Sirius bedroom looked quite different from the rest of the Black residents. The house was grey, green and dark, filled to the brim with pompously luxurious and old furniture. Sirius' room was warm and red. His walls were covered in gryffindor banners, photos, and images ripped out of magazines - not expensive paintings. But if you looked more closely, you would find that it was only a poor facade. The silver grey wall paper still peaked out from under the posters, a huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, and his bed was just as ancient and swanky as the rest of the house's furniture. But it had been enough of a change for his parents. He had gotten such a beating for it.
Sirius threw himself onto his bed with a sigh.
The guests would arrive in half an hour. The Blacks didn't always have a party on Christmas Eve, but they had never had a quiet family dinner at home as long as Sirius could remember. There was always a Christmas party somewhere. This year it was the Black's turn. All through Sirius' childhood, every year his parents had either dragged Regulus and him to some distant relative's house, or to a party their friends were hosting. Not that there was much difference between the two. All pureblood families were basically related. Maybe that was the reason they were all so fucked up: generation upon generation of inbreeding.
And now Sirius was one of them.
Sirius had gone back and forth between thinking he was a monster and his friends were overreacting more times than he could count. But lately he had been leaning more and more towards monster. "I tried to kill someone," Sirius told the ceiling. I actually tried to kill someone, and in the end, does it really matter it didn't happen? The only reason I didn't have someone killed is because James stopped it. I am just as bad either way. I am still a murderer. I still crossed that line, and I don't know if that means there is something seriously wrong with me.
But the fact Skeeter wrote that article still wasn't Sirius fault, even though Remus loved to blame him for it. He hadn't told anyone Remus was a werewolf. Snivellus had. And yeah, if his plan had gone through Remus had been the one to do the dirty work, but the thing was Sirius hadn't really thought of it as Remus. Sure, Remus was technically the wolf, but they weren't the same person. Sirius hadn't really been aware he was letting Remus murder Snivellus. He had thought hey, there's a bloodthirsty werewolf down there and if I send Snivellus there the wolf will kill him. It had seemed so simple. It had felt like no one had to get their hands dirty.
But even though Sirius hadn't quite realised how the murder was going to be carried out, the fact that there was going to be a murder had been very intentional. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe James, Remus and Peter were afraid of him? But could they possibly think he would try to hurt them? Maybe not them, but they might think he was prepared to kill someone else. Sirius would like to think that he wasn't. At the end of the day, he didn't think he could ever bring himself to straight up murder Snivellus. The thought had never crossed his mind before that night by the Whomping Willow. Sending Snivellus to Remus hadn't really felt like murder. It still was, but that way he wasn't the direct reason Snivellus died... But... He had actually enjoyed it. A bit. He had liked the feeling of control as he watched Snivellus disappear down the tunnel...
Maybe he really was crazy.
With a deep breath Sirius sat up, trying to get the thoughts out of his head. His eyes fell onto the dress robes his mother had hung from the knob of his wooden wardrobe. She had bought him them just earlier this week. Unlike Regulus, Sirius hadn't had any former one that still fitted him. The last time he had spent Christmas at home he had been 12 years old. Not that Sirius had asked her to buy new ones. In this house everything had to be perfect. Even traitors got to play dress up. Sirius dragged himself from the bed and walked up to the wardrobe. A scent of freshly ironed clothes filled his nostrils. The robes were hanging from a coat hanger imprinted with a gilded Black family crest. With a grimace, Sirius slid the garment off of the hanger. The fabric was quite stiff, tattling it'd never been worn. Sirius threw his normal robes onto the bed and put on the dress robes.
He went over to Regulus' room.
"Hi," Sirius said, standing in the door opening.
Regulus, in the midst of searching after something in his trunk, looked up. "Well you look very handsome"
"Fuck off." Sirius walked into the room and sank down at the foot of Regulus' bed. "How do you do this every year?" he siged. "Don't you have something better you could be doing than hang out with old aunts and uncles?"
"It's not so bad really," said Regulus, his attention back at his trunk. " Buuut , the whole family doesn't hate me…" He tilted his head to the side, giving Sirius an ironic smile.
Sirius hummed. "That does help" he admitted. "But wouldn't you rather hang out with friends?"
Regulus shrugged. "Christmas is a family holiday, don't you think?" It was a bit of a stupid question to ask Sirius. Regulus made a pause. "Is that why you're here?"
"What?"
"Because your friends…"
Sirius grimaced. They hadn't really talked about that, but of course Regulus had noticed he, James and Remus had fallen out. Neither of them had said a word to Sirius since their fight. Sirius didn't sit with them in class, he didn't sit with them at lunch, and he spent most of his free time in places he hoped he wouldn't bump into them. He had spent more time with Regulus than ever before.
"I don't know," Sirius mumbled. He had thought about staying with his family before the fight, to keep making nice with the Blacks.
Regulus had picked up a comb from his trunk. Sitting down next to Sirius he carefully began to brush his hair. "Can I ask what happened?"
Looking out over the room, Sirius shrugged, trying to make it look like it wasn't a big deal. "They're mad at me."
"Why?"
Sirius shrugged again. "I did something."
Regulus raised an eyebrow.
"I really can't tell you."
"Was it that bad?" Regulus laughed.
Sirius was about to shrug a third time and brush it off, but stopped with his eyes on his brother. "Maybe." He paused. "Look, what I did wasn't the best ," he emphasized ironically. "But I still thought they'd understand, you know."
"You know, it's going to be difficult for me to give advice when I don't know anything."
"Well it's complicated."
"Did you sleep with someone's girl?"
"No," Sirius sighed. "I wouldn't do that."
"Is it about that not-a-werewolf-friend of yours? Did you write that article as a joke?" Regulus smirked.
"No!"
Regulus didn't seem sure if Sirius was being serious. He studied him with a quite blank expression, probably trying to figure out what he possibly could have done. What would Regulus think if Sirius told him the truth? Maybe it wasn't the best sign for Regulu's character, but Sirius felt like he would have been able to understand. But maybe that wasn't true. Maybe Regulus would be horrified. And besides, Sirius couldn't tell him anything. It would be difficult to tell the story since he had to leave out everything Remus-related.
"I'm just getting extremely curious over here," Regulus teased.
"I'm not telling you, okay?" said Sirius. He cleared his throat. "I just think they are being unfair. They won't even hear my side of it."
"Maybe talk to them again?"
"They don't want to talk to me."
"Well, make them listen."
The muffled sound of happy voices carrying up from the first floor interrupted them. Sirius could hear jingeling of coat hangers and the thumping of winter boots being dumped onto the floor.
"We better get down," said Regulus. Sirius grimaced as they both got up from the bed and left the room.
At the top of the stairs Sirius could glimpse fancy coats and expensive jewelry. The hall was packed with aunts and uncles, cousins and second cousins. The Malfoys, the Lestranges, the Selwyns … He caught sight of Bella, taking of her wet black coat and shaking out the snow from her thick brown locks.
He braced himself before leaving the safety of the upper floor.
Sirius the Murderer. This was where he belonged.
Leaned back on the sofa, Sirius took another sip of his butterbeer. Regulus, sitting at the opposite side, kept fighting Sirius' legs for the space in the middle. The living room was filled with empty cups and plates. Faint voices from the last guests getting ready to leave traveled from the hall.
It hadn't been as bad as Sirius had thought. Boring, sure, but doable. No one had paid him too much attention. He had had a minor heart attack at one point when he saw Bella talking to his parents, but no one had stormed in to scream at him yet. He had actually had quite a good time with Regulus, avoiding all annoying ladies over 55 telling them they had gotten taller.
"So you would really stand by as You-Know-Who murdered every muggle in existence?" Sirius wanted to know, continuing their conversation.
"No one is going to kill all the muggles, Sirius," said Regulus. "As long as they mind their own business, no one gives a shit."
"I'm not sure everyone agrees with that. I'm not sure You-Know-Who agrees with that."
"It's not like he's going to go out of his way to kill every last muggle." Regulus sat up straighter, giving Sirius legs more space. "Look, people are going to get hurt. But it's worth it . Why do we deserve to hide, when muggles go wherever they want and do whatever they want? We're stacked away like we're second class citizens. We can't dress as we like, we can't talk about what we like. We always have to look out, always be on guard to make sure we don't give ourselves away. How is that fair? That it's not a very relaxing life. There's one, one , all-wizarding village in all of Great Britain. Muggles have whole cities. Our house is hidden for Merlin's sake, Sirius! Children can't even play on toy brooms in their own backyards. " Regulus sounded genuinely upset over the fact.
Sirius stared at him, his bottle of butterbeer balanced on his leg. He had heard that a million times before. He had heard every form of argument under the sun as his family ranted about muggles. He'd always brushed all of it aside, not even bothering to consider anything they were saying. But now, it suddenly didn't sound so stupid. It was actually a valid point. He immediately felt guilty for even thinking it. "But it's for our protection…" he protested.
The law which forbade wizards from revealing themselves to the muggle society had been drafted at the end of the seventeenth century. Muggles had been hunting wizards and witches for centuries; imprisoning them, drowning them, buring them alive. Whatever they could think of. Before the law was put in place, wizards had already started to hide their true identities from muggles, but they were constantly afraid of being found out. Muggles knew wizards existed, so they didn't give up for anything. The children were most exposed. They couldn't hide their powers as well as adults, and muggles slaughtered a lot of them. The law was created to protect them. The wizarding society would go into oblivion, and that way wizards and witches could be safe. Today muggles thought magic wasn't real and that they'd just had some superstitious ancestors.
Regulus huffed. "That's not a good reason. What, so the muggles murder us and just gets away with it? Instead we had to change, we had to hide. That's not right. If they hurt us they should be punished. Not us."
"That's true…" Sirius mumbled.
"And that was hundreds of years ago. And in all that time the Ministry has done nothing to take back our rights. They're cowards."
"Maybe they think it still isn't safe."
Regulus laughed joylessly. "If you believe that, that means you think muggles would start to kill us again if they got the chance. Huh? Then I don't understand how you can be on their side."
"I'm not on their side."
"We'll you're standing up for them. You're standing up for the people who would stab you in the back if they got the chance."
"Not all muggles are like that. There are tons of muggles who know about the wizarding world. As you can see none of them has started a genocide."
"No, not everyone. But as a pack. They are afraid of us. They envy us. But if you don't think they would attack us, then why hasn't the ministry changed the law? Then they have nothing to fear."
"I don't know…"
"And that's why the war is necessary. The Ministry is doing nothing. They've never done anything. So we need to take the matter into our own hands."
"But you've heard the rumours. Hell, we've both heard Bella talk about him." Sirius sat up straighter too, leaning forward. You-Know-Who detests muggles. He doesn't want equality, he wants to squish them. Do you really think they deserve that? These muggles didn't hurt any of us. You can't blame them for what their ancestors did."
Their eyes were locked together. "No," said Regulus slowly after a moment. "I don't think they deserve to die. To be honest, I don't like how bloodthirsty some people are."
Sirius didn't know what to say. He had to fight a little smile. Regulus was better than he thought.
The doors to the living room behind Sirius suddenly swung open with a audible pop. Remus looked away and Sirius took another sip of his butterbeer.
"Sirius." His father had stopped in front of the couch. "Your mother and I want to talk to you."
Sirius waited a second before looking at his father. He was still wearing his black dress robes from the party, although the smile he'd been carrying with it was completely gone. Sirus' heart made a little jolt in his chest. If Bella had talked after all...
"Why?"
"Because I said so. Come with me."
"Why?"
His father's eyebrows furrowed dangerously "I said come with me."
Sirius could feel Regulus glancing at him as he stood up. He followed his father through the door and into the dining room, Regulus not far behind him. In the dining room. someone had cleaned up all the plates and put away the food. A simpler green tablecloth now ran across the middle of the table.
Their mother was sitting at a chair at the head of the far end of the room. "Sit down," she demanded.
With all eyes on him, Sirius pulled out a chair and sat down at the very edge of it.
"Regulus, you too." Her tone was gentler when she spoke to him.
Sirius frowned and looked back at Regulus as he pulled out the chair behind Sirius and sat down. What had he done? He looked back at his mother. "Wha-"
"Quiet," his father interrupted.
Sirius glanced at his father standing next to his chair, like he was guarding him, making sure he didn't leave the room.
"You get one chance to tell me the truth," said his mother.
Yes, Bella had definitely talked. Sirius' heart had begun to beat faster.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
His mother didn't answer at first. Her dark eyes pierced him with such intensity it looked as she was trying to read his mind. "What do you think you are up to?"
"What?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."
"I really don't," he said in a challenging tone, staring back at her.
His mother nodded slightly, as agreeing with something only she could hear. "You never stop," she said slowly. "You never stop dragging our name through the mud. I don't know what you hope to achieve with this trick of yours, but it ends now.
"What trick?"
"Quiet. Don't think for a second we believe you. You try to... to ridicule your brother, or whatever it is you're doing. You pretend you're like us when you've never been anything but a blood traitor."
Sirius felt a heated buzz in his chest. The comment stung, even though it shouldn't. There was nothing wrong with being their so called blood traitor. On the contrary, it meant you weren't a narrow-minded ashole. But he had heard that word uttered with disgust his whole life, and he couldn't help to feel offended.
"And then, I hear that this boy they wrote about in the paper - that he is a friend of yours," she continued.
Sirius frowned. "What boy?"
"The werewolf."
Sirius blinked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The fact that he had lied to Regulus didn't seem like such a problem anymore. If they found out he had knowingly spent time with a werewolf he was done for. There was probably no greater crime. Compared to that, loving muggles was nothing. Sirius swallowed. "That's not true."
"He is not a friend of yours or he is not a werewolf?"
"He's not a werewolf."
His mother huffed. "God help you if he is. It makes me sick just thinking about it..." She looked him up and down, shaking her head slightly. "I don't understand what we did wrong with you."
"You don't know?" said Sirius quietly.
"Quiet."
"Maybe you could have tried to be, just a little -"
"Quiet!"
"All I've did was disagree with yo-"
"Quiet!" his mother yelled, slapping her hand against the table.
"Why?" Sirius snapped, rising from his seat. " Why can't I speak? What are you afraid of?" He huffed. "You've never wanted children. You want someone to obey you. To worship you. Someone to control-"
A heavy hand landed on Sirius' shoulder, pushing him down. "Sit down!" his father hissed right next to Sirius' ear, his warm breath tickling his neck, almost making him squirm. Sirius tried to shake it off the best he could but yielded under the pressure and sank back in his seat.
"Do you see yourself like some kind of a rebel? A hero?" His mother's voice was low. "I don't see anything honorable in lying to your family and consort with abominations."
"You're wrong," said Sirius.
Her eyebrows shot up. "You think it is honorable?"
"I didn't do those things."
She stared at him."No?"
She stood up, turned around and opened one of the glass doors to the wooden cabinets behind her. She reached her hand inside and retrieved it, gripping a tiny bottle. Sitting down again, she pushed it across the table towards Sirius. He picked it up and held it in his palm, the glass cool against his skin. The liquid inside was clear as water. Sirius tilted the bottle slightly from side to side. There was no label on it. He looked up at his mother.
"Drink," she demanded.
Sirius laughed contemptuously. "No."
"Drink it and I'll believe you."
Sirius gave the bottle a second glance. He began to suspect what he was holding. He swallowed. "What is it?"
"Drink"
"No."
"I thought you weren't a liar. If you're telling the truth there shouldn't be a problem."
Sirius stared at her in astonishment. She couldn't be serious. Truth serums were illegal. They weren't even allowed to be used in court. He looked at his parents. He knew it was stupid, but a fear he wouldn't be able to leave the room before that bottle was empty sneaked up on him. But not even they would go that far, would they?
"It's illegal," said Sirius. No one answered. "You're mad because I break your little house rules, but you're breaking the law!" His parents didn't say anything. They didn't seem very bothered by that fact. Do as I say, not as I do, right? Sirius thought virulently. He stood up. "You can believe what you want. I'm going to bed."
Without another look at his family, Sirius made his way across the dining room. The feeling of relief increased with every step he took. This definitely proved him a liar in their eyes, but it was a thousand times better than if he had taken the serum. This had been his only possible course of action. They still didn't have any definite proof he was-
Sirius' heart jumped when something grabbed him from behind, dragging him back inside the room. He hissed and kicked, twisting in his father's arms like crazy. He couldn't get loose. Then his mother was next to them, grabbing ahold of his jaw and forcing his mouth open, pouring some of the bottle's content down his throat. Sirius choked as the liquid hit his windpipe. The arms around him loosened and Sirius stumbled into the wall in a fit of coughing. When he looked up, his parents towered over him, cornering him against the wall. Regulus had shot up from his chair, staring at the scene with wide eyes.
This can't be happening. Not even they would-
"Did you tell Regulus you support the Dark Lord?"
"Yes," Sirius breathed out.
"Was that a lie?"
Sirius eyes darted between his parents. "Yes."
It was a horrible sinking feeling, losing control of his body. He had spoken without any intention to do so, it had just slipped out of him so effortlessly. He was not really aware he had even opened his mouth. His body felt hot, heart hammering in his chest. They had actually- I felt so degrading. They could ask him anything, poke around as much as they wanted. Every secret, everything embarrassing, everything he wanted to keep to himself; it was all on display.
His mother and father shared a glance. "Why did you lie?"
"I wanted to spy on Voldemort."Sirius could almost feel his cheeks blush. It was the absolute least thing he should be worried about, but he heard what a complete moron he sounded like.
"Why?"
"Because I want him defeated."
His father huffed. "You thought a teenage boy would bring down the Dark Lord?"
"And your friend?" said his mother. "What was his name…?" she turned to Regulus.
It took a moment for Regulus to react, like he had to snap out of a dream."Remus Lupin."
"Remus Lupin," she repeated. "Is he a werewolf?"
No. No, no, no, no-
"Yes."
The change on his mother's face was instant; scrunching up in a ugly grimace she looked utterly repulsed by the idea. "How dare you!" she yelled. "How dare you! Filthy blood traitor!" She slashed her wand through the air. An almost colourless ray shot out from its tip and hit Sirius in the face. It felt as if she had slapped him, the impact flinging his head to the side. Automatically Sirius cowered and put his hand over his already throbbing cheek.
""...our own son! We raised you under our own roof... "
Sirius stood frozen for a moment, watching his mother scream her lungs out. Then it was as if he suddenly came back to life. In one rapid movement he'd reached inside his robes and pulled out his wand. "Get away from me!" he hissed, taking a few steps to his side, away from his parents. He needed to get the hell out of there. They were blocking the way, the doorway behind them.
"Put it down," his father ordered him. He looked furious.
"You're crazy," said Sirius. "I just thought you were awful human beings, but you…" he shook his head, letting out a joyless laugh. "You're actually completely insane."
"Put. It. Down."
They seemed so convinced he wouldn't use it. None of them had raised their own wands. If they'd been normal parents they'd thought he would never do it because civilized people didn't go around curing each other. But they didn't mind cursing Sirius, so that was not it. They were just so fucking sure they had him in their pocket. He would have loved to show them wrong. They'd deserve it. But he was not like them.
"Get out of my way," Sirius demanded.
Heated anger flashed in their eyes. It drove them nuts he talked to them that way. In their eyes he had sinned. And he needed to pay. He needed to beg. He needed to beg on his knees to even begin to hope to earn their forgiveness.
"You put that down!" his mother hissed, stepping closer.
"No."
"Do you think you can talk to us that way? To me? You will pay for this, I promise you."
"Then why would I let down my wand?" Sirius wanted to know.
His mother sneered. "Don't get smart with me! You behave like an animal. Your disgusting, filthy-"
Sirius spit her in the face.
A sudden burst of light filled the dining room. Before Sirius was able to register where it came from, a white hot pain pierced his body. It was everywhere, digging deeper and deeper, into the very mare of his bowns. He was being burned alive. He was being torn apart. He was being torn to shreds and he could feel someone pulling off limb by limb... And he screamed. He screamed and he screamed and he screamed.
The pain was gone. Sirius' thoughts spun around inside his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. It was all an unintelligible mess. He was vaguely aware of his own hitched breathing. The only thing that felt real was the pain. The echo of it cut into him, so real he could almost still feel it. Where was he? He seemed to be surrounded by a void, but he had a hard time focusing. He had been doing something... It had been important. Something… something important. He had been in the middle of something… He had been in the dining room, he suddenly remembered. At home. His parents had been there. They had been arguing. Was he still there? But he wasn't even sure that had been today. The memory seemed distant. Eventually he became aware his palms were pressing against something cold and hard. The floor , he thought. But could that really be it, since it felt like his hands were facing upwards. Was he upside down? The image of himself hanging from the dining room ceiling like a bat flashed through his mind.
"That's enough!" his father's voice was saying from somewhere above. It sounded distant, like in the mist of a sleepy mind. "This ends now . All of it. Your shenanigans, your arrogance, your disobedience. You've disrespected this family time and time again. It. Is. Over."
Sirius wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to find his voice. Hadn't they noticed what had happened? They must have. How could they not have? But his father was still talking like Sirius was right there.
"We have been way too soft with you. We have let you think you can do what you want. But your behaviour is completely unacceptable . From now on I want none of this. You are to behave perfectly ."
There was a sharp tug at Sirius' shoulder and he was yanked upwards. Sirius blinked as his perception of reality was restored. He was on the floor in the dining room. On his knees, bent over him, was his father. He had a firm grip around Sirius' shoulder, keeping him somewhat into a sitting position. His nails dug into Sirius' skin. Only seconds must have passed.
"And you do not disrespect your mother." his father finished. His face slipped in and out of focus. "Do you understand?" He shook Sirius aggressively. "Do you understand?!"
Sirius opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but not a word passed his lips. Something was off about his father. Really off. He always looked displeased when he laid eyes on Sirius, but he had never looked at him like this. Something about him reminded Sirius of a ticking bomb.
"Do you understand? Crucio!"
In an instant, the pain consumed Sirius. He couldn't see. He could hear nothing but his own scream. He was burning, bleeding. Knives were cutting into him-
Sirius was laying on his back, staring up at the blurry, dark blue ceiling above him. His jaw trembled uncontrollably, his breath uneven and shallow. He wanted to throw up. Oh god . This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. With great effort he turned onto his side and heaved himself up. His whole body shook violently in protest. The world spun. He managed to grab onto the edge of the dining table for support.
The curse had sent him further down the dining room. His mother and father were standing a couple of feet away. Regulus stood pressed up against one of the dining table chairs. Their eyes met. Sirius didn't know what to do. His thoughts were racing, but at the same time his mind seemed empty. It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real. Because if it was real it meant-
"Apologise," said his father.
Sirius stared at them.
" Apologise ."
For what , it echoed inside Sirius' head. What did I do? Please tell me what I did to deserve this? He wanted to tell them, scream at them that they were crazy, deranged. That they could fuck off to the end of the universe. But he couldn't speak. His jaw and throat were petrified, the mare thought of bringing a sound over his lips impossible. But it didn't matter. There was no way to reason with them. They had actually-
"Crucio!"
The words made Sirius' heart bolt. Before he could react the world disappeared, the pain over him once more. He screamed. Please make it stop. Please just make it stop. Make it stop please I'll do anything. I'll do anything please just make it stop...
The pain disappeared. Sirius drew his breath. He was lying face down on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he could see someone moving towards him. He cowered against the floorboards. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please... I'm sorry." His words ended up in a choking sob.
He thought he really meant it.
"Good." His father's voice was coming from above him. "You are a long way from forgiveness. But it's a start."
Sirius' heart made another jolt. "I'm sorry..." His voice sounded very weak.
There was a moment of silence. Sirius thought he heard the others mumbling. Maybe they didn't care he'd apolegised. They were insane. Maybe they would just keep going and keep going... Maybe they were going to kill him.
"Go to your room," said his father. "I don't want to look at you anymore."
Sirius wasn't quite sure how he'd made his way back to his room. He was vaguely aware of fleeting hours laying on his back in his bed, watching the cracks in the wooden ceiling. There was a ticking noise coming from the clock on the wall. Faint moonlight shone in from the window, slowly moving across the room. When Sirius eventually mustered the strength to sit up, his whole body felt stiff and his cheeks were sore and dry. With his arms hugging his legs Sirius stared blankly ahead of him in the dark.
I need to get out of here. Now.
He was screaming inside his head, but his body didn't want to cooperate. It took him great effort to unlatch the deadlock of his arms around his body and clumsily get out of bed. Frantically he began searching for his belongings, throwing them randomly into his trunk. What if his parents came to look for him now? What if they'd changed their mind and had decided he needed some more punishment? Maybe one of them would be waiting by the door, making sure he was sorry he'd tried to escape...
When Sirius had closed his trunk and dug out his outerwear from the wardrobe, he realised he didn't have his wand. Another frantic search of his room told him it wasn't there. He must have dropped it in the dining hall. Maybe it was still there… But that was unlikely. His parents had definitely taken it. And even if they hadn't, could he risk going down there? If they caught him...
Sirius' heartbeat picked up as he stepped out into the dark hallway. He felt so naked without his wand. With careful steps he made his way over to his brother's room and slowly cranked up the door. Regulus wasn't asleep. The moment Sirius stepped inside he caught sight of a dark shadow sitting up in the bed. The bedside lamp came to life, filling the room with a warm glow.
Sirius gently let his trunk fall to the floor. "I'm leaving," he said in a weak voice. "You should come."
"Leaving? Where?" There was something off about Regulus' voice. His face was hard set.
"Anywhere! Anywhere but here."
There was a pause before Regulus spoke again. "I'm not going."
"We can't stay here," said Sirius impatiently.
"We? There's no 'we'. I don't want anything to do with you."
Sirius stared blankly at Regulus, taking in what he was saying. "Do you really want to do this now?" he asked tiredly. Sure, he had lied, but Regulus could be mad at him later. How could he even be thinking about that now?
Regulus flipped the covers to the side and stepped out of bed, walking up to Sirius "Are you thick or something? I'm not coming with you."
Sirius stared at him. "Why the hell not? It's not fucking safe here."
Regulus huffed.
"They tortured me!" Sirius blurred out. "They fucking tortured me! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? Have you taken a look at yourself? I'm not going. But you go ahead. Go ahead and embarrass our family even more. Like you always do. I can't believe I thought you-" He shook his head.
"What happens when you do something wrong, huh?" Sirius wanted to know, staring Regulus down. "When you step out of line?"
"Don't act so tough," Regulus sneered. "I've seen you cry like a little girl. " I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry ."
It felt as though he had been punched in the gut. Whatever Sirius had intended to say died in his throat. He stared at his brother, standing there in his striped pyjamas pants, and wondered how he had ever liked him.
"I really do hope they hurt you too," said Sirius quietly. With that he took his trunk and left the room.
His heartbeat was thumping heavily in his ears as he made his way down the staircase. There was no one in the dark hall and Sirius pried up the door as fast as possible, stepping out into the night to never come back.
