Chapter 11: Fellytone.

July 23, 1977 Sunday, 1:20 PM

Sirius had just come home to get his extra broomstick and he stopped at the entrance as he heard voices come from his parents' room.

"But why, Walburga? Your best friends!" Druella said disbelievingly.

"Please, Druella, don't judge me too harshly," Walburga pled.

Druella nodded hurriedly. "Of course not."

"I had to do it," Walburga said almost desperately. "Orion didn't want to bring him back; he said that it would have a bad effect on Sirius to 'pull him up by the roots'."
"It's always about Sirius," she added bitterly.

"He wanted to let the Davisons raise him just so that Sirius can have an undisturbed childhood. But what about me? What about a mother pining away for her eldest son?"

What is she saying? Sirius thought with confusion. Her eldest son? Regulus is her only son.

"Of course," Druella said soothingly.

"Orion was devastated of course. He, Cassiopeia and Harrison were all in the same year at Hogwarts and the three of them were best friends," said Walburga.

"Cassiopeia is your aunt, isn't she?" asked Druella.

"Yes, my father's youngest sister. There was a rather large age difference between them and she was only a few years older than me. Orion's father was her cousin and the three of us grew up together. I was always the third wheel though, until Harrison came into the picture," said Walburga.
"Orion was furious with me," she said after a moment.

"So Orion knew?" Druella said with a gasp.

"Yes, he found out not long afterward," Walburga replied.

"Oh!" Druella said with surprise, "So that's why-?"

Yes. He even filed for divorce…I had to hold on to him somehow," said Walburga.

"You had to hold on to him somehow? What are you saying?" Druella gasped.

"Regulus was the one who found me," Walburga answered, tears gathering in her eyes.

"And he was always so sensitive as a child…" she said remorsefully.

"I'm so sorry, Walburga. I had no idea," said Druella, gathering her in her arms.

"Orion has yet to forgive me," Walburga said, defeated.
"But even amidst the pain of his own loss and the fact that his friends had died, it was Sirius' welfare, Sirius' loss that concerned him," she added angrily.
"And he wanted to let Sirius be adopted, saying that I wasn't fit to be his mother."

"Oh, Walburga, of course not," Druella soothed.

"It was the Potters' decision to adopt Sirius that finally convinced him though. As much as he cared for Sirius' welfare, he couldn't bear to see his own child raised by them," Walburga continued.
"They were always rather queer."

Why, why, why? Sirius had asked himself countess numbers of times.

Why the Blacks had adopted him.

Why they hadn't acted until the Potters' own decision to adopt him.

Why they had specifically wanted him, Sirius.

Why they had been given custody of him over his own aunt and uncle.

Now he knew why. It was because they, the Blacks, were his biological parents.
He wasn't adopted after all.

He had always wondered why the Blacks had adopted him when it was practically unheard of that a purebloodist family adopt. And even stranger was that no one, not even Travers who had so loved to torment him, had ever mentioned the fact that he was an adoptee but had always said that he was a disgrace to the Black line, as if he actually was a Black.

Sirius had always thought that it was because the Blacks had such immense influence that no one had dared mention it. Now he realized that he was so obviously his father's son, especially in looks, that they had deduced that the Blacks were simply bringing back their own child instead of adopting a strange child.

Now the question was, why had they let him, their own son, think that he was adopted?

There was a long silence while Walburga hesitated before she finally spoke.
"He was right though. Orion was right. You wouldn't believe how horribly I've treated Sirius," Walburga said with despair, 'but I can't help it. He's a constant reminder of them; of what I've done. It's been driving me mad with guilt!"

"Put it all behind you, Walburga, you've suffered enough," Druella said, giving her a comforting hug.

"But the fact remains that I gave the order for the attack on the Davisons. I'm the one responsible for their deaths," said Walburga with despair.

Sirius nearly fell over with shock as he heard his mother's confession.

"I know, I know," Druella soothed, "but Walburga, I can't condemn you for wanting your son back."
"I'm not saying that it was excusable," she said as Walburga protested, "but it is understandable. I think that I might have done the same if it had been one of my girls."
"You wanted to get Sirius back."

So that was it, thought Sirius. It was the tremendous guilt she bore that had turned her love to resentment.

For a moment, Sirius felt a twinge of pity along with the shock and fury.

But no, that wasn't it, he suddenly thought, as he recalled that it had been when he had been sorted into Gryffindor that her attitude towards him had changed. Before that, she had always been as loving and tender towards him as she was with Gwen and Regulus.
She really would forsake her child for her pureblood prejudices, Sirius finally realized.

Sirius had always thought that it was because he was an adoptee that her love had changed so easily; that things would have turned out differently if it had been either Gwen or Regulus, one of her real children, who had been sorted into Gryffindor.
I was wrong, he thought with dismay.

She might truly believe that it was the guilt driving her but she was only kidding herself.

July 26, 1977 Monday, 3:20 PM

Regulus abruptly stopped as he caught a glimpse of Sirius while passing by the slightly ajar door of Sirius' room.

Hemust be mistaken. He must have just hallucinated for a moment; he couldn't have just seen what he'd just seen.

Regulus turned back and peered through the door into Sirius' room.

Hewasn't mistaken.

There Sirius was, sitting at his table surrounded by over half a dozen empty bottles of firewhiskey. And even yet, he was drinking by the bottle.

Regulus burst into the room and grabbed the bottle away from Sirius.
"Don't you know how strong that stuff is? And what are you doing drinking here in broad daylight? What if Father catches you like this!" Regulus said anxiously.

He and Sirius were the only ones at home now which was probably why he had picked today of all days to get drunk.

How convenient, Regulus thought sarcastically.
Knowing father, if Sirius happened to get caught, it wouldn't be Sirius but Regulus himself who would be held responsible for allowing Sirius to get into this condition.

Whyhe should be expected to look after Sirius he didn't know. After all, wasn't it generally the older who looked after the younger?
Yet father had always expected Regulus to watch out for Sirius and keep him out of trouble.

Gwen tried to assure him that it was only because he was far more responsible than Sirius was. He knew better; she was merely trying to comfort him. It was obvious that it was only because Father favored Sirius and never blamed him for anything.

Regulus was merely his scapegoat.

Yet he didn't resent Sirius for it. He didn't even resent his father for it. After all, it was only natural that he favor Sirius. Sirius just had a way with him that drew people to himself.
It was difficult not to like him.

Regulus himself had nearly idolized him as a child and even now, he held a high respect for him. Yet he never allowed it to show because he knew of Sirius' resentment of him. And he would never allow anyone to see how much it hurt to see Sirius, who had once been his adoring brother and a friend, speak to him as he would to an acquaintance.

Before Hogwarts, they had been friends. They had been brothers. Now they were little more than strangers who just happened to live in the same house.
Before Hogwarts, they had played together and would talk of anything and everything. Now any sort of conversation or venture was awkward without Gwen. There were so many things he wanted to tell Sirius, so many things that only Sirius would understand, yet he couldn't.

"Hey Reg," Sirius said with a slight slur.

Regulus stared at him for a moment with surprise. The last time Sirius had called him that had been before he had been sorted into Slytherin. Before their Houses and their mother had torn them apart.

"Hey Siri," he said wistfully.

"Do me a favor, will you? Take care of our sister. Don't let her hurt Gwen."

"Her?" Regulus repeated curiously.

"Mother. Who else?" Sirius said bitterly.

"Mother? Why would Mother do that? She would never hurt anyone!" Regulus said incredulously.

"How do you think I got these scars?" Sirius answered with a cynical laugh, lifting his robes to reveal his recent scars which had yet to completely heal.

"What? How long has this been going on? Why didn't you say anything?" Regulus demanded.

"What would that have solved?" Sirius snorted.

"But-why?" Regulus asked incredulously.

"Why do think? Of course it's because of all this pure-blood mania. It obsesses you, to the point where you're blinded by it all…to the point where you would torture and even KILL! It's all BULLSHIT!" Sirius burst angrily.

Regulus looked down at his brother with shock and confusion. It was the first time Sirius had spoken outright to him against their parents' beliefs. It was generally an unspoken rule between them that they avoid pureblood/Muggle-born issues when speaking to each other.

But if what Sirius was telling him about their mother was true, then he was also most likely right about the pureblood mania. Besides, hadn't he seen for himself how much their mother's attitude towards Sirius had changed just because he had been sorted into Gryffindor?

But Sirius couldn't be right, Regulus protested.
He was turning over all the beliefs he had held firm during his life. Everything he had been taught from birth. It would mean that his entire life had been wrong.
And nearly the whole House of Slytherin were Purebloodists. Surely they couldn'tall be wrong, could they…?

"Tell me, Reg, why do you even hate Muggles and Muggle-borns?" Sirius asked.

Regulus gave him a disbelieving look. "Isn't it obvious, Sirius? Don'tyou ever get tired of this hiding, of pretending that we don't even exist? And it's not only a year or two or even ten years but our whole life! A whole lifetime of hiding, hiding, and more hiding!" he burst out.

Sirius stared at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

"Don't you understand, Sirius? Our lifestyle isn't normal. We shouldn't have to sneak around like criminals. We shouldn't always have to hide like cowards from Muggles. We are the ones with power in this world and Muggles are under our mercy," Regulus said fervently.

"I've always thought this was normal," said Sirius, looking dazed.

Regulus laughed humorlessly. "Normal? Tell me, Sirius. Why do we have to hide? Why must we always be careful? Why must we always fear that the Muggles will notice us? Tell me! Why!?" he said with outrage.

Strange. He had never thought of it that way before. He had always thought that Muggles were the victimized, had thought that Muggles were merely the scapegoat in the pure-bloods' struggle for power. Now Sirius could begin to understand why Regulus had been led astray.

Regulus paused then spoke again, his voice now full of hope and anticipation. "Generations of wizards and witches have longed for freedom and the Dark Lord has promised us this. He has promised us a world where we won't have to hide, but will rule over Muggles. And he has promised this world to his Death Eaters, Sirius."

Sirius could understand where Regulus had been led astray, yet he knew with certainty that this new Dark Lord was not the answer.
"Yes, a world where he will rule with his 'beloved' Death Eaters as his puppets! A world ruled by terror!" he spat.
"Don't you see? His promise of purification of the Wizarding race is merely a excuse! All he wants is power! Voldemort is just another Grindelwald; he kills people simply for opposing him, even his precious pure-bloods! Do you think it will be any different when he has achieved this world?"

"The Dark Lord only does what he must. His opposers are too easily satisfied. They are fools who are content with this dissatisfactory life. It's for the better good, Sirius," said Regulus adamantly.

"The better good," Sirius sneered. "So it's alright if a few people are killed along the way, is it? A throne obtained by bloodshed will be kept through bloodshed. You're the fool if you don't realize that, Regulus."

Regulus looked thoughtfully back at him and Sirius continued, his voice now smooth and persuasive.

"Tell me, Reg. Why is a Mudblood" Sirius spat out the word with distaste, "or even a Muggle so inferior to us purebloods that we have to treat them like filth? They're humans, like us, only without magic and we treat them worse than House-elves."

Regulus snorted and opened his mouth to retort to the question he considered ridiculously obvious when he realized, he didn't know. Of course he had reason to hate Muggles since it was because of them that he was forced into hiding, but that didn't automatically make them filth, did it?
He had merely, mindlessly, accepted what he had been taught without question simply because he had been brought up on the belief.

The sky is blue, the grass is green, all Muggles and those associated with them are filth.
Likewise, he had never bothered to wonder: why?
The sky was just blue, the grass was just green, and likewise, he had believed that Muggles were just filth.

This was what Sirius meant, Regulus was beginning to realize. This mindless acceptance, so very much like brainwash.

"They don't have magic," he finally managed to say.

"We don't have science or technology," countered Sirius, fully expecting him to ask what science was.

Instead Regulus replied, "We could if we needed or wanted to."

"But we don't," Sirius retorted, slightly surprised.

Regulus paused, trying to think of a good comeback. "Isn't science just a sort of substitute for magic?" he finally said.

"Pretty much," Sirius agreed and asked offhandly, "Did you ever see the wonders of a fellytone?"

"Telephone," Regulus automatically corrected, without thinking.

"…" Sirius stared at him in stunned silence.

"I was curious!" Regulus said defensively, "so I—uh—took a peek in your Muggle Studies book."

Once Sirius had gotten over the shock, the two began to discuss Muggle issues which Regulus was surprisingly knowledgeable about, having taken frequent 'peeks' into Sirius' books.

Though Regulus knew of the advanced technology of Muggles, he had never allowed himself to appreciate nor acknowledge the greatness of it before now. Now that he allowed himself to think objectively, he was able to fully understand the vastness of it all. He finally was able to admit, at least to himself and to Sirius, that Muggles weren't filth but were actually very admirable for their capability to function without magic.

Why is it that I have never once, in nearly sixteen years, bothered to question my parents' beliefs before now? Am I that dense? Thatmindless Regulus wondered.
But the answer to that at least was simple enough. Sirius was right; he had allowed his hatred for Muggles, his pureblood mania, to blind him. He had never really bothered to questioned it before, to actually think it through, because until now it had always been those he had been taught to deem as unworthy, bloodtraitors and Muggle-borns, who had questioned his beliefs. He had simply closed his mind to what he was being told. But this time had been different because it was Sirius, someone who he would actually question his beliefs for, who had shown him.

"Promise me, Reg, promise me that you'll never become a Death Eater," Sirius suddenly said.

Though Regulus had dreamt for years of the day that he could finally join the Dark Lord, he answered without hesitation.
"I promise," he assured Sirius.

"I always did like you…" Sirius said wistfully and added softly, "I hoped you would be in Gryffindor so we can be like real brothers."

Siriushad always liked Regulus, even when he had been living with the Davisons. And when he had come to live with the Blacks, he had been glad to have the cute, adoring little boy for a brother. He himself had adored the sensitive and imaginative little boy that Regulus had been as a child.

There was nothing left of that sensitive little boy in Regulus now. Slytherin had taken his sweet, sensitive boy brother and turned him into a stranger.
And that was his grudge against the Slytherin House. Because Slytherin had taken his brother away from him.

His sensitive, compassionate brother who had loathed pain and ugliness speaking of a cold-hearted murderer with admiration, becoming one of his puppets! He couldn't bear to think of it.

A slight wistfulness came over Regulus as Sirius said, "I hoped you would be sorted into Gryffindor…"
He had hoped too. How he had longed to be sorted into Gryffindor where he could always be with Sirius! They would always hang out together as they always did at home and he could accompany Sirius on his adventures.

For months before starting Hogwarts he had prayed, to whatever higher being there was out there, to sort him into Gryffindor.
And how desperately he had begged the sorting hat to put him into Gryffindor! Yet the sorting hat had ignored his plea and had said that Gryffindor was not the house for him. He had pled, saying that he would try to be brave like Sirius if only he could be sorted into Gryffindor, yet it had put him into Slytherin in the end.

Nevertheless, it was no use laying blame on the sorting hat for its actions. It had been right to not place him in Gryffindor, even he knew that. He had never had half the courage and valor Sirius had. He had always been too weak, too sensitive.

Regulus opened his mouth, perhaps to tell him so–that he had wanted to be sorted into Gryffindor, not that he thought himself half as brave as Sirius-, but Sirius interrupted him.
"Remember, whatever happens," Sirius grinned, all signs of solemnity gone now, "you will always be my favorite brother."