A Night, Winter 1971
Sirius lays in her bed on his back, holding and fiddling with the camera she'd gotten him over Christmas. The smell of her mums cooking wafts up to them from downstairs making both their stomachs rumble.
"I don't want to go home." Sirius says breaking the silence.
Hermione's eyes tear away from the letters of her new book to gaze at Sirius knowingly. Lately, its been nearly impossible to get Sirius to go home. It's the reason why she introduced him to her parents so that when it got too dark outside, they both can come home and play. Her mum positively adored Sirius and even her dad said that he's a 'spiffy chap' so they never tired of Sirius coming over, which he did everyday.
The hardest thing to do is getting him to leave even though she didn't feel inclined to kick him out. She knew how terribly frightful and cruel his mother is to him and she's seen some of the effects of her more harsher punishments on Sirius. So she let him stay with her up until bed time.
Now, he's been saying he wants to stay past bed time...he wants to to stay period.
Hermione's not ashamed to admit that she wants him to stay too. Hogwarts just keeps getting closer and closer and she's beginning to worry. Will nothing change when he goes off to wizarding school? Will he still be her best friend when he comes back to see her, or will he find new friends?
Knowing Sirius, he'll easily make friends and forget all about her. It makes her so sad.
That's why she wants to suggest that he doesn't go home that he sleep over and sneak back home in the morning. However, her moral compass refuses outright to give voice to these thoughts.
Luckily, Sirius is not so morally encompassed.
"I'm going to sleep over." he states his face set into an uncompromising expression as he sits up to stare at her.
Calmly, Hermione turns back to her book, hiding her grin.
"There's no arguing with you when you set your mind to something. Do what you want."
She's dying to know what sort of face he's making but can't turn around lest he see the face she's making. She imagines him gaping at her with shock and then smiling widely.
"So you're not going to argue with me." She can hear the amusement in his voice.
"No, but you have to make sure it looks like you leave. No matter how much my parents may like you, they won't let you sleep over. You'll need to go back home and get your broom. Then I'll signal you from the mirror when you can come back."
"Got this all planned out, do you?" he says cheekily as she sniffs.
"I just figured if I left it to you, you'd get us both in a whole load of trouble."
Her view is overtaken with Sirius's bright eyes as he leans over the bed to look at her.
"Righhhttt! You keep telling yourself that. I'm gonna go execute this brilliant plan of yours; keep that mirror next to you." he says as he hops off from her bed and comfortably walks out the door. It never fails to marvel her the confidence and ease in which Sirius handles himself. He's completely fine just coming and going as he pleases. He reminds of a cat in that sense. Other times when he's hyper and in his element he reminds her of an excited puppy.
Either way he makes for a cute pet.
She hears Sirius call out a farewell to her parents and their friendly response before the front door slams. Sighing, she flops back onto her bed and stares up at her ceiling.
She won't ever admit it if someone were to ask her but every time her best friend leaves she can't help but miss him right away even if they are only separated for a few hours. It is this lonely feeling in her chest that worries her when it comes time for his departure.
She knows its because she's crushing on Sirius. Maybe even loves him even though she's not sure if she understands really what that means.
I'll look it up in the dictionary. She decides, sliding off her bed over to her bookshelf and pulling out the dictionary. She flips through the pages to get to to L's when her eyes finally find it.
Love means a numerous amount of things according to Websters dictionary. It can mean 'a strong affection for another rising out of kinship or personal ties' but since Sirius obviously isn't related to her any way she goes to the next definition- 'attraction based on sexual desires.'
She blushes to the roots of her hair as her eyes read this, her face blanching. Sexual desires, she thinks aghast, I can't even begin to fathom that! It's absurd!
Although, Sirius kissing her did do some funny things to her belly. She quite likes it, actually, but sexual desire? No. No times infinity.
So she moves on to the next definition 'affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interest. She blinks and decides to re-read this. It definitely rings true to her feelings but it still doesn't feel adequate enough. Sure, she shared some common interests with Sirius, and she admires him and takes favor to his wit but it felt more then that.
She reads further and finds the true meaning in the following words 'the object of warm attachment, devotion, and enthusiasm.'
They are exactly the feelings she holds for Sirius, right there, written on the pages of a book. She bites her lip as her heart perks up. So that's it then. I definitely love Sirius. That is exactly how she draws her conclusion, trusting it since books have never steered her wrong.
And he loves her too; he'd told her so many times already. So they are in love, but what to do now? If she confesses to him would that make everything change? Will they always hold hands and kiss and get married?
Hermione shakes her head. No, of course marriage is out of the question. She's not dumb. Marriage is only for the adults. And she knows she's far from being an adult. Maybe nothing changes, maybe just saying it is change enough.
She shuts the dictionary with a sharp snap and places it back into its spot. She feels strangely hyper aware with her revelation, as if putting a name to her feelings morphed them somehow, makes them stronger.
Her eyes fall to the camera Sirius had left behind. He'd been snapping random photos for a while now but he never lets her see them. She crosses over and picks the camera up, taking out the film and deciding that she will go tomorrow to get them all developed. She places the roll of film on her nightstand just as the door to her room opens and her parent come in.
Hermione smiles at them, her brown eyes meeting the mirror-like ones of her mother, as the hazel eyes of her father fall to the roll of film.
"We've come to say good night." her mother announces as she pulls down the comforter for Hermione to crawl into. She slips inside as her father begins to speak.
"Is that the camera you bought for Sirius? Do you need to get the roll of film developed?"
"Yes, I was wondering if one of you can take me tomorrow."
"Yeah, I'll can do it. You don't have to come. I know Sirius will be coming for you straight after school." her dad responds, going around her bed and taking the film.
"Thanks dad." Hermione beams, showing off her larger set of front teeth that never ceased to tickle her parents hearts. Her mother reaches over to kiss her forehead.
"Goodnight, Hermione. Love you." she says before pulling away and smiling down at Hermione. Her father does the same and then they walk out the door, turning off her light as they go.
She's not sure how long she sits in her bed, waiting for when her parents door shuts; it could have been minutes or hours but she still felt antsy. As soon as the door clicked shut she leaps out of bed and over to her dresser where her communicative mirror linked to Sirius lays innocently.
"Sirius." she whispers as the mirror ripples. "They've gone to bed."
His face emerges with a beaming smile on his lips. She notices immediately that he seems to be in some place very dark, and there's loud noises she can't really make out in the background.
"Okay, I'll be there in a second." he whispers back as she tries to see more of where he is.
"Where are you? Why is it so dark." but the connection is already gone. With a frown Hermione moves to her window and opens it for Sirius, the cold nights air whooshing in and eliciting goosebumps all over her skin.
She quickly goes and grabs a sweater before going back to the window and staring out at the night sky. Despite the cold, its a beautiful night. She imagines that the view from Sirius's broom is breath taking; the moon seems so big and the stars so bright.
She sits waiting and starts to get worried when ten minutes pass and he's still not there. She has the mirror in her hand before she remembers moving, her mind battling on whether to call to him or not.
"Sirius," she murmurs in a baby soft voice. "Sirius, are you there."
"I'm right here." he answers from just outside her window. She jumps her heart escalating sharply.
"Oh! You gave me a fright! What took you so long? You said you'd here quickly..."
"Walburga decided to try to look me in my prison of a room, had to escape some curses to get here, sorry." his blaise tone makes her heart hurt as she helps him get into her room.
"Oh, Sirius, I'm so sorry! You shouldn't have come if you were having so much-"
"I would rather get hexed to bits then stay another minute in that ugly old woman's presence!" Sirius bits out harshly, a dark expression crossing over his face that only ever emerges when on the subject of his mother.
She bites her lips. Though she understands the hatred that Sirius feels, she can't help but think that it would be better for him to try to reconcile with his mother even a little bit, however, she knows she can hardly tell him that without him blowing up on her.
"Alright, then," she says lamely, with only a hint of disapproval in her voice as she takes Sirius's hand and leads him to bed. "anyway, its too late for talking, let's go to sleep."
She helps Sirius out of his cloak, storing it into her closet as Sirius undresses for bed.
"What are you doing!" Hermione yelps, panicked when Sirius slips off his trousers. He gives her a confused look as he hobbles on one foot trying to get foot out of the pants.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to bed like you said-"
"But why are you taking off all your clothes?" She cries mortified as Sirius rolls his eyes at her.
"Oh calm your knickers, I'm going to sleep in my boxers!"
"No! No you are not!" Hermione orders firmly, emphasizing her words with a sharp arm gesture. "You should have thought to bring pajamas with you! I will not let you sleep in my bed with only your underwear." Sirius sighs exasperatedly as Hermione crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows at him.
"You can't expect me to go to bed in trousers. It's not a big deal-"
"Yes it is a big deal Sirius Black! Now, you can either go to sleep in what you've brought or you can wear one of my bigger pajama bottoms."
Sirius gives her a look as if he can't quite believe her.
"Or I can go to sleep in my underwear." he retorts back easily as he turns down her comforter and slips into her bed. Hermione's jaw literally drops as she stops scourging for pants for him and turns back around.
"Or you can go back home! I will not-"
"Oh hush already, Star. We both now you can't do anything to kick me out so just go to sleep already. If it really matters to you then I'll bring pajamas next time." he says as he fluffs up one of her pillows and lays his head down to sleep.
Fury bubbles through her at his attitude and disregard of her orders. She's tempted to march over there, rip off the covers and drag him by his hair over to the window and physically throw him out! But like he said, that would be impossible.
So with her teeth grit and her hands balled at her side, Hermione marches on the opposite side of the bed and plops down, stubbornly turning her back to Sirius and vowing not to speak another word to him until she felt good and ready to.
Sirius sighs and shifts in her bed, a wounded hissing sound escaping his lips. Hearing this, Hermione feels almost tempted to turn around and see what was wrong but her anger keeps her in place.
"Good night, Hermione." Sirius whispers.
She doesn't know why, but hearing his voice so quiet in the dark sounding so small wishing her good night makes her feel terribly sad. Her face literally scrunches up in pain as a battle commences inside her on whether to ask him what is wrong or not.
With a groan, she turns and eyes him as he turns his tired face to hers.
"What's wrong?" she whispers grudgingly as Sirius gives her a small smile.
"I thought you were mad."
"I am still mad," she says with an eye roll, 'now, what's wrong?"
His smile drops and he pulls down the comforter to show ghastly blue and purple bruises on his right side.
Hermione's eyes widen, completely horrified as a gasp escapes her lips.
"No," she whispers disbelievingly before she sits up in her bed and turns on the light to get a better look. "We've got to tell someone, my parents- you mother can't get away with this! It's child abuse-"
Sirius reaches out and holds her hand squeezing it reassuringly.
"It's not what it looks like. It's just a hex. Walburga has never laid a physical hand on me and you can't tell anyone about this. You know the law-"
"Yes but this is different Sirius. Even as a hex this is still abuse! Can't you go to your wizarding authorities? Or isn't there some-"
"I'm a pureblood, remember, Hermione? If I tell on my mother the worst that can happen is she'll have to pay a couple of galleons and I'll get a worse curse for the trouble. The cruciatus curse or something..."
"I know what that is! That was in one of the books you lent me! One of those unforgivables! If she uses that on you she can go to jail for certain!"
"Trust me Hermione, I'd rather just deal with a few hexes here and there then get cursed with that!" Sirius says as Hermione balks at him, her face turning what.
"She's used it on you," its not a question but the haunted cold glint in Sirius's eyes is answer enough. "Why? When? What happened?"
Sirius shrugs, pulling up the comforter over himself again. When he answers, his voice is strangely hollow, unlike anything she's ever heard from him before.
"That day, when I told you about magic...Walburga, she-she'd found a couple of muggle things I had hidden and destroyed them so I got really upset. She tried forcing me into a dark oath that kills you if you break it...the oath was that I would never go to the muggle world or speak to another muggle again and I...I flipped out. I did some accidental magic that flung her away and broke a few things. She got even angrier, starting hexing me but I kept dodging them and then I said I would rather have been born a muggle then her son. She sent the curse as I was running away. It didn't last long but it was the worst pain I ever felt. I got out straight after that."
She's on him faster then the eye could see, holding him tightly as he starts to sniffle.
"Oh Sirius, I'm so sorry!" She breathes into his ear, her whole body feeling the pain of his words. "You should come live with me! That woman is not fit to take care of anyone! I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind once they've heard the whole story..."
Sirius doesn't say anything, just lets her hold him and soon they both drift off to sleep. The next day, after school, Sirius is waiting for her with a small little suitcase in one hand and his broom in the other.
February 1, 1971
Walburga sits languidly in a tall backed armchair by the fire, her snifter glass holding the last remains of her drink that she swirls as she stares out into the flames.
She sneers as she thinks about her accursed son not worthy of the Black family name. That blasted brat that has not darkened the halls of Grimmauld Place for almost a month now.
At first, she had thought he had his good-for-nothing Uncle Alphard pick him up so she hadn't bothered herself about it for two weeks, happy not to see that annoying face of his for a while. She didn't care to see him at all, in fact, but as heir to the Black family fortune and business, she had to do her duties as his mother to prepare him.
So, after two weeks she set about to retrieve the boy from Alphard. When he proved to not be there, instead of feeling worry or fear for where her son could possibly be, she only felt red hot anger. She wanted to curse that odious stain on the family to pieces. She wanted to blast him off the family tree and be done with him for good.
Unfortunately, Orion wouldn't let her, saying there must always be two family heirs to the Black name so unless she wanted to get pregnant again and bare another child, they had to live with Sirius.
Now, today, a whole week later, she sent Kreacher out to find him and bring Sirius back. She thought they would be back hours ago but obviously her son was proving to be a right pain as usual.
A pop sounds and the grunts as Sirius struggles in Kreachers hold reaches her ears as she stills.
"Let go of me, Kreacher! Let me go-"
"Kreacher," her voice rings out, deadly and poised like a snake. It makes Sirius struggle even harder. "Well done, now bring him to me."
Her index finger traces the rim of the cup as she watches Kreacher levitate Sirius over as he thrashes and howls in his airborne position. She duly notes that Kreacher looks worse for wear, his pillow case ripped, displaying the scuffle that must of happened between the two.
When she looks at Sirius, her eyes are cold and predatory, brewing with malicious intent. She's intimidating yet still her son glares back at her defiantly. It makes her teeth grind, seeing him looking at her like that. How dare he think he has any power here, how dare he think that he had a right to defy her!
She stands, giving into her more baser nature as she crosses over to him and smacks him hard across the face with her hand adorned with rings. Sirius's head snaps to the side and he cries out, tears welling in his eyes. She eyes him disgustedly.
"Look at what you have made me resort to! Striking you like some despicable muggle filth!" She storms away, breathing hard as she clenches her fist to restrain from beating him with her own bare hands. Kreacher is watching with barely restrained joy on his face as he stands off on the side maintaining Sirius's levitation.
Sirius is trying to quell the urge to cry, his cheek burning from the force of her slap and already bruising from the jewels. He bites his lips, feels a hatred so deep run throughout his body at his own mother. In this moment he thinks he would like to see her dead. He pictures himself squeezing her face together in between his hands and hurting her.
When Walburga turns back around, she is calmer but still furious. Her wand is in her hand, a deep promise of pain on her face. She flicks a burning jinx on him which hits him right in his stomach. She feels nothing when it makes him hiss in pain.
"You have thought you could defy my direct orders, not once, but three times." she starts, her voice deadly and face unforgiving as she holds up three fingers. "And now you have shamed not only the family the entire Black name and purebloods as a whole by consorting with inferior muggle scum!" She bellowing by the time she's done with her sentence, her spit landing on Sirius's face as he cringes with disgust.
"I don't care! I hate you! I hate and everyone in this house! I don't want to be a Black! I don't want to be your son!" He screams back, all his fury and hatred screwing his face and flushing his cheeks even further.
Walburga far too enraged to speak raises her hand to strike him again, making him flinch but the blow never came.
"Kreacher!" she screeches, making the creature scurry over with over enthusiastic groveling. It makes Sirius's lips curl.
"Yes, mistress. What can Kreacher provide for mistress..."
"Get me the cane, Kreacher and quickly!" she orders, making Sirius's eyes widen in fear. Her mouth curves into a smile when she sees this as Kreacher falls into a deep bow.
"Yes, mistress, anything, for mistress." With a pop he is gone.
"Consider this punishment as your first lesson on never defying me. You may hate that you are my son, and if I could have I would have blasted you off the family tree a long time ago, but you can't ignore blood coursing threw your undeserving veins. You will be taking over the Black family business and as heir you cannot be anything but disgusted with the muggles because every pureblood with sense knows muggles are to be treated as lesser creatures-" She roughly grabs Sirius chin, turning his face to hers to stare deep into his hate filled eyes, her nails digging into his skin just as Kreacher pops back into the room.
"Because they are lesser creatures." She lets him go, turning back toward creature and picking up the cane and running a finger down its length. Sirius swallows hard, his breathing heavy but anger consuming.
"NO they aren't! Hermione and her parents are a thousand times better then you are! I hate you!"
Walburga froze, her cold eyes staring at him with shock that quickly turned into righteous fury. In a flash her wand is pointing at him again.
"Crucio!" she hisses. Instantly, Sirius is screaming from the top of his lungs, his body thrashing in mid air, making a horrific grotesque image.
"You dare to think those filthy animals are better then me? A pureblooded witch!" she yells over his howls of agony, a mad glint in her eyes as she holds the curse over him.
She stops when she sees that Sirius has passed out. Breathing heavily, her face flushed, she turns to Kreatcher.
"Leave him on the floor. When he wakes up, administer the healing potions. I can't have his mind getting anymore warped then it already is. If he doesn't wake up in an hour, wake him up." She orders.
"Yes mistress, anything you say, mistress." he responds, bowing so deeply his nose brushes the floor.
Without another word, she steps over Sirius and walks out, her face dark and filled with malice. This thing with her son needs her immediate attention, having already gotten way out of hand. She can not allow for this notions to continue and grow. These muggles were a threat, a festering wound on the cusp of rotting. But she knew just how to take care of it.
Ominously, she stroked a finger down her wand as she breezed through the hallways, never noticing the wide, terrified eyes of Regulus as he trails her. Once outside, her lips curl distastefully at all the muggles passing on the sidewalks and roads. She tucks her wand away and wishes fiercely that she could just curse them all, show them there rightful place.
Regulus, heart pounding in his little chest, crouches behind the ledge of the staircase as she walks across the sidewalk, a muggle-notice-me-not spell in place. He can see the utter disgust on her face as the golden light from the last rays of dusk hit her stone cold expression. He doesn't know why he's following her but feels compelled to. Maybe its because he's simply worried. He'd heard his brothers screams under the Crucio and he felt afraid. Would his mother kill this muggle girl?
He had to know. He kept behind her until they reached a similar house like theirs, number 7 Grimmauld Place. His mother swept gracefully up the stairs, following her point me spell inside the house while he waited outside so she wouldn't catch him. He had no idea what she would do to him if she caught him.
When he thought it safe, he climbed up after her and gently-oh-so-quietly-pushed the door open. He felt as if his heart was trying to leap out of his throat. He held his breath as he stepped inside, eyes wide like owls.
"You," he heard his mother say, making his heart jolt and his body jump in the air in fear. He turns toward the voice with unadulterated dread and fear. Walburga's eyes, cold and gray, are glaring fixedly as she strokes her wand but not at him. No, her focus is on the bewildered muggle man and woman leaping to their feet in front of her.
He guesses that they exchanged a few words already since the tension in the room is almost palpable; their faces flushed and jaws clenched. His mother's eyes, particularly, are crazed and skittish, skirting back and forth between the two muggles.
Regulus cowers back into the cover of the dark corner as he watches the events unfold.
"What are you doing in my house? Get out!" The man bellows. Regulus notices that this man stands rather tall which surprises him since he thought all muggles to be feeble and small. At his aggressive response, his mother seems to straighten up even further, her face screwing hideously into something ugly; all trembling lips and twitching mad eyes.
It makes Regulus scared to see her so unhinged. He thinks these muggles should be afraid too but they just seemed angry and confused at his mother's unexpected and unwanted invasion into their home.
"Don't order me around you disgusting abomination!"
Regulus winces at the shrill note of her voice. He saw the spit flying out of her mother as she spoke and in that moment everything about his mother disgusts him. He's not sure why its surprises him when she screeches Crucio at the man. Of course she would curse these muggles if she can curse her son but still he hadn't expected it, its why his heart jolts in fear again when the man falls down to his knees like a sack of potatoes, screaming something horrifying.
He doesn't really understand it; the cruciatus curse. He knows its supposed to be the worst pain anyone could ever feel but the worst pain he's ever felt in his short years of living was when he accidentally broke his arm coming down the staircase. Looking this man screaming and sobbing, he just doesn't understand what he's feeling, but seeing him so upset and the overall wrongness in the atmosphere, Regulus finds tears pouring down his face too.
"Richard! Richard! What's happening?" the muggle woman seems hysterical as she gapes at her screaming husband for a second before falling to her knees beside him and trying heedlessly to help him.
Regulus feels his blood cold go cold when he looks at his mother, genuine fear seizing him. Standing there, watching this unblinkingly, Walburga is smiling cruelly, condescendingly, with superiority. He's staring so horrified at his mother that he doesn't see the little bushy haired girl barreling down the staircase adjacent to him.
"Daddy!" her aghast cry jars Regulus almost like a physical blow. He watches the girl, skinny and frizzed hair, pause disbelievingly at the sight before her; her father screaming, her mother hysterical, and this woman, this stranger, inflicting all of this madness.
In the next second she's charging for his mother, grabbing her wand arm and biting down on her wrist with visible force. Regulus couldn't even imagine what she must feel but he her reaction is unexpected none-the-less.
Walburga howls, dropping her wand reflexively as her head turns to her attacker. The man finally stops screaming and collapses onto the floor, and Regulus isn't sure if he's still even alive and neither is his wife as she apparently loses it.
"Richard, NO!" she cries, leaning over him and placing fingers onto the mans neck. Even in the hazardous state of his mind, Regulus finds her actions strange but it seems to calm her down momentarily.
Smack!
The sharp sound brings his attention back to the other two, his eyes landing on them just in time to see the girl go flying back at the sheer force of his mother's hit.
"How dare you! You'll pay for that you pathetic little muggle! Cruc-" Walburga abruptly stops when her wits finally comes back to her when she finds no wand in her hand. Her eyes flick to where it lay halfway between her and the muggle woman who was now glaring at her with her own hate filled brown eyes.
The both move at the same time, just as the young muggle girl springs back up and makes for something hanging from the wall with some long cord dangling from it. The muggle womans hand reaches just a hairs breath before Walburga's.
Clumsily, the woman stand upright and moves out of reach from his mother. She looks unsure but determined as she automatically points the weapon used against her husband at the perpetrator.
His mother stops and stares for a moment and then she laughs, her head going back. It's loud and disturbing and a flicker of fear and uncertainty cruse the womans face but the wand she holds doesn't waver.
"What are you going to do, muggle? Huh? Your worthless body doesn't hold any magic to use a witches wand! You are a magicless creature. Weak. Less than nothing. I am more powerful than your puny inferior mind can even comprehend! I can end your life with a flick of my wrist! Now give me back my wand!" Her eyes were wide with madness.
At that moment, Regulus feels such a fear he presses himself further into the shadows, scared of this frightful monster in front of him. The woman does not as something fierce rises in her eyes.
Eyes riveted to the woman's blazing determination and bravery, Regulus watches as the woman grabs hold of both ends of the wand raises it above her head and brings it down toward her upraised knee with the intention to snap it.
Never in his life had he ever seen the gracious cold and poised Walburga Black move so quickly. In a second she is on the woman, intercepting her from snapping her wand. In the next second Walburga is standing triumphant with her wand in hand trained on the woman on the floor with a murderous glint in her eye.
Someone is screaming. The girl. She's screaming as her mother starts screaming under the torture curse. And then the strangest thing happens.
One second, his mother is there inflicting pain, and the next she's thrown clear across the room, colliding harshly against the wall. Everything glass shatters and all eyes fall to the trembling wide eyed little girl who just did something that can only be described as magic.
In an instant it feels as if all the air was knocked clear out of his body as he stared. Muggleborn.
For the first time in his young years Regulus had a face to the abominations his mother always raved on about. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She did not look hideous and grotesque like the picture his family had painted. He hadn't believed Sirius when he said they were normal but now standing in the shadows and staring at this muggleborn girl he could see the truth.
A loud nail biting screech drew his attention back to his mother. Leaping to her feet looking quite red faced and decomposed stood his mother, her neat up-do falling hazardously around her enraged face.
"Enough of this! Enough!" She howled, raising her wand with an air around her that screamed she surpassed her breaking pointed. "I won't tolerate this insolence from muggles and mudbloods!"
A loud shrieking outside the home stilled all movement from Regulus, the sound so wretched he felt he could go mad as his face scrunched up and he pressed his hands against his ears. The sound only increased to fray his fried nerves and he felt like he couldn't stand another minute of it.
The sound made his mother's face harden and the other two females in the room hold impossibly still. Once again his mother's cold dead eyes fell upon the muggleborn girl. The girl trembled, clearly uneasy but kept her eyes locked on her as well.
"So you summoned your kinds aurors, did you? Did you think that they can save you? It's laughable. All I have to do is do to them what I'm going to do to you all." His mother's voice sounded frightfully calm and sent chills down Regulus's spine.
With two long strides of her long legs, Walburga stood behind the muggle female, wrenching the woman's hair back painfully, making her gasp and hold with both hands Walburga's forearm.
"No! Stop!" The girl cried, immediately making toward her mother with an outstretched hand.
"Ah, ah, ah, Immobulus!"
The girl froze mid-stride as the door to the house burst open and men in strange uniforms came busting in.
Seeing these strange men, Regulus felt compelled to run having seen and felt too much. He hid underneath a large dinning room table obscured by the long table cloth. He couldn't help but peek out from the tiny slit though his view was blocked by the two unexpected men.
"Freeze! Put your hands up and step away from the woman! Now" One man ordered loudly.
He could hear his mother's shriek of laughter.
"Or what? What can a muggle like you do?"
"You get one more warning-"
"Petrificus totalus!" She cried, followed by two loud thumps.
"Do you see? Do you see now, muggle ,why your kind can never even hope to be equal to a real witch or wizard? It's why I can't have your filthy ,disgusting ,mudblood abomination anywhere near the noble and most ancient heir to the Black family name. You understand, right? The evidence of your kinds inferiority is right here, right in front of your face. To have the heir associating with such a distasteful creature such as yourselves is like having him associate with swine. You don't befriend the animals you kill, do you? Surely your kind can understand this concept."
He knew then, when the woman didn't speak that his mother must have put them sometime before under a silencing spell. His mother waited for a response anyway knowing full well that they couldn't speak anyway.
"Well, doesn't matter. What's done is done all the same. Obliviate!"
Regulus sucked in a breath as he gazed at their shadows on the wall. A blinding light made them disappear for a moment like a brief flicker, there and gone the next, just like her memories.
"I want you to forget any of this ever happen. You will not recall anything remotely close to magic, Grimmauld Place, or the name Sirius Black. You and your husband share a mutual want to move far far away from here. You will do whatever means necessary to move away immediately."
A pause sounded and then another loud thump. Regulus saw the shadow of the woman fall roughly to the ground. His mother then moved to the unconscious father and repeated her actions before turning to the two other muggle men and ordering them to report that everything was fine and to leave remembering nothing of what they saw.
"And you," Regulus's stomach churned uneasily at the bitter and threatening tone his mother spoke with. Her shadow stood before the tiny girl. "You only have yourself to blame for all of this. You dare to overstep your place and poison my sons mind with you evil deplorable notions! You dare to stand there with your stolen witches magic and conspire to attach yourself to the most noblest of pureblood ancestry by seducing my son!"
Her loud ear grating screech made Regulus wince.
"You will pay for this unthinkable grievance you have made to my kin. Accio knife!"
Clatter sounded from the kitchen as a dresser was pulled back. The knife glinted ominously by until his mother snatched it right out from the air. Right then, Regulus felt like he should run out there and make his presence known, scream at his mother not to do this, to let the poor girl live!
But his feet remained where they were for the fear had a tight grip on him. He could barely breath. His eyes remain with dreaded attention to the shadows on the wall.
His mother's shadow took hold of the girl's arm in a tight grip and sliced across her arm, chanting away words he couldn't understand. Above him the items on the table trembled along with picture frames all over the house like an earthquake.
His breath left his body in a gasp not heard above the chattering and his mother's increasingly loud voice. He could hear the girl screaming, however, an agonizing wail that sounded as if she was being tortured.
Suddenly, Regulus became blinded by a bright light that lit up the house like the sun. Things all around the house broke and Regulus cowered, hiding his face under his arms.
And then it stopped.
Everything became so still and eerily quiet in the house. Regulus peaked from under his arms and saw the disastrous state of the house. And then a sound. A whimper. Regulus looked to the shadows and saw the girl had curled into herself, falling slowly to the floor. His mother on the other hand stood tall with her head tilted back taking a deep long breath before slowly looking down at the girl.
"Aw, does it hurt little muggle? I've taken back all your magic after all. I can't imagine how painful that must feel, not that it isn't just what you deserve since you had no right to magic in the first place."
The girls silhouette convulsed as she let out another whimper that rattled.
"You'll have to live with whatever pain you're in for the rest of your pathetic life. I think that this is a suitable enough punishment for the crimes that you muggle's have committed. Obliviate!"
Walburga stared around at the bodies lying around her feet and gave a humph of amusement. Muggles really are the lesser species. Tucking her wand away she turned on her heel and left oblivious to the horrified eyes watching her.
Regulus didn't move, not even a twitch. What should-could- he do? He wished he never followed her.
But this, what he just saw...
Slowly, like a cautious little kitten, Regulus stepped out from under the table and moved to the living room. He gazed at the closed eyes of his mother's victims looking so still and quiet. The only thing that reassured them that they were even still alive was the slow rise and fall of their chests.
He stepped over to the fallen girl curled awkwardly on her side. Even with the enchantment his mother placed on her, the girl's face was scrunched in pain and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Regulus felt something big he couldn't understand swell at the sight of her.
Even with the fear that had yet to abate that made him twitch at every sound, he knew he couldn't just leave her like this. But he didn't know what to do. This girl meant a lot to his brother, enough for him to withstand the cruciatous curse and this violent reaction in his mother.
What could he do?
He scrambled for something to write on, scouring the house with a panic dreadful feeling in his heart. He managed to find something to write on and tore half of the strange sheet of paper writing the only thing he could think to say in his childish scrawl. Gently, he opened up her hand and placed the paper in her palm. Staring at her a little longer before the guilt washed over him, Regulus then stood and ran away as fast as he could. He could only hope his words would be enough.
Find Sirius Black. Number twelve Grimmauld Place.