Sirius gathered his things slowly once the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, hoping to delay the inevitable as much as he could. James was impatient with his slowness, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and peering out the window.
"Would you hurry up?" He asked, for the tenth time. Peter hovered behind him, his things all ready as well.
"You can go out," Sirius said. "My stuff got all moved around."
James nodded, not in the mood to delay. "See you after the holiday, then," he said with a grin, and then he was out the door, Peter hurrying along in his wake.
"Why don't you go with them?" Sirius grumbled, shoving things into his trunk with a little more force than necessary.
"I think some of my stuff got moved around too," said Remus, peering into his trunk. "Better sort it out."
Sirius knew that nothing had gotten moved around in Remus's trunk, since he was lying about his things in the first place, but he appreciated the gesture.
"You can go, Remus," Sirius said. "Your mum's ill, you shouldn't keep your family waiting." As much as he appreciated Remus staying with him, he knew he was only doing it to be nice, and suddenly he desperately wanted to cling to the last few moments of peace he was going to have. Even his concerns about Remus's recent injuries had left him.
"Well," Remus said slowly, his eyes darting toward the window, then back at Sirius, his brow creasing just a bit. "Okay. Have a good holiday, Sirius. Write, will you?" He placed a brief, comforting hand on Sirius's shoulder before giving him a quick smile and leaving the compartment. Sirius watched him go, a heavy feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.
Finally, when the last people were leaving the train and he could delay no further, he took a breath and pulled his trunk along behind him out into the corridor.
He had half-hoped that his mother would've just sent Kreacher to fetch him, but there she was, standing to her full, impressive height with a scowl on her face. Sirius felt as though his feet had frozen to the steps, and he considered the possibility of just staying on the train as it went back to Hogwarts.
But then his mother spotted him, and he set his shoulders in a determined square and went down to meet her. Regulus was throwing quick glances at him every few minutes, as if Sirius were contagious with something he could get just by looking at him.
"Sirius," she said when he reached her, her lip curling up in a sneer. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Sirius supposed it was to keep up appearances, but he could feel her fingers digging into him, cold and hard as steel, guiding him through the station. He suppressed a shudder.
Kreacher followed along behind them dragging Sirius's trunk as they left the station, Walburga throwing cold smiles and waves at some of her fellow purebloods, completely ignoring everyone else. Once they had reached the outside, she grabbed Regulus's arm and apparated. Sirius repressed another shudder as Kreacher's long fingers wrapped around his arm.
000
Sirius was lying on his bed, staring at the wall. As soon as they'd gotten inside the house, his mother had ordered him to his room without looking at him. She'd said his father would have a talk with him later. Sirius couldn't even muster up the energy to be nervous.
He must have drifted off into sleep staring at the wall like that, because when the knocking at the door woke him up it was much darker. He rubbed his eyes and got up, opening the door to Regulus's anxious face.
"Father's in his study," he said. "He wants to see you."
Sirius couldn't say anything. He closed the door and went downstairs, the nervousness he had been too tired to feel earlier now kicking around in his stomach. What would his father say to him? Do to him? He was never the one who punished them, only their mother or Kreacher…what horrible wave of curses and hexes was about to be cast upon him for daring to be sorted into Gryffindor?
Sirius had always felt happy and confident with his sorting, even when the Slytherins threw jinxes at him or hissed insults in the halls. Now, however, he felt his first real stab of regret, deep and jolting.
He lingered outside the dark paneled door of his father's study for a few seconds, before the deep voice called, "Come in."
As he pushed open the door with almost numb fingers, he wondered if Gryffindor had been the right choice for him after all.
000
Lying in bed hours later, Sirius still felt distinctly confused and wrong-footed by the entire affair. He had gone in expecting the worst and had come out with…well, what had he come out with?
When he had pushed open the door, his father had been sitting at one of his dark dragon-skin chairs, a glass of aged firewhiskey in his hands.
"Sit, sit," he had said, gesturing toward the seat across from him with a whiskey-clad hand.
Sirius sat on the edge of the seat, doing his absolute best to look unconcerned. It was hard though, with his father's dark eyes gazing so coolly at him.
"Have a drink," he said finally, holding out his glass toward him.
"Have—what?" Sirius said.
"Have a drink," Orion said, more firmly but with a faint hint of amusement in his voice.
Before Sirius could respond, Orion had shoved his glass into his hand. He peered at the amber liquid swirling around inside it, then back at his father's amused face, and took a gulp. He swallowed about half of it down, sputtering up the rest with a coughing fit. His father's smile widened.
"Not bad," he said, taking back the glass and refilling it with a flick of his wand.
"Why did you give me that," Sirius coughed again, eyeing his father's wand, "sir?"
Orion leaned back in his chair. "Well, Sirius," he said, taking a sip, "You've started Hogwarts. That means you're becoming a man, doesn't it?"
Sirius nodded.
"And men get firewhiskey." He laughed then, cold and hard. Sirius noticed it didn't reach his eyes.
"Speaking of Hogwarts," Orion began, and Sirius felt his stomach clench. "This little Gryffindor mishap is unfortunate."
Sirius tried not to squirm under his gaze.
"However, I see no reason why it should be…insurmountable."
He swirled his drink around, apparently deep in thought.
"You've always been a bit too…fiery for Slytherin, I suppose. I'd hoped you'd grow out of that, of course, but now that we're here…"
He sighed, taking another drink, then fixed his cold gaze back on Sirius. "Your mother is very disappointed. I'm sure you've noticed. Her eldest son, in Gryffindor…" He shook his head. "I've talked her down out of most of her anger, though, and she's willing to welcome you back."
Sirius privately thought that was stretching the truth a bit, but he didn't comment.
"There's no reason for any hasty decisions, as long as you do your part. You are the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, after all. Isn't that right?"
Sirius struggled to find his voice. "Yes, sir."
"Good, good. I'm glad you understand." His wolfish smile glinted again. "Now," he began, tone suddenly businesslike, "that means you'll have to behave."
"Cut back on all these silly pranks. If I hear you've been bothering Slytherins again I'll have to punish you, and we don't want that, do we?" Sirius shook his head. "But if I hear you've been pranking some muggleborns, well—I might be persuaded to let that slide." Orion's leer deepened in what he apparently thought was good-natured leniency. Sirius tried not to grimace.
"As for when you're here, you'll do as your mother says. Dress well, speak politely to your relatives, and behave. You'll not respond to any teasing you may get about being in Gryffindor. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"And when your time comes to your duty to the House of Black, you will do so."
Sirius wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but he nodded.
"Very well." Orion said finally, once he had finished gazing at Sirius. "I'm glad we got that sorted out." He toyed with his firewhiskey some more. "Maybe it can even be beneficial," he muttered, more to himself than to Sirius. "Having some eyes and ears in the enemy camp could be useful, after all."
Sirius could not resist squirming at this. Orion's gaze flickered back over him.
"You may go, Sirius. See you at dinner."
"Yes, sir," Sirius said, and left the study as quickly as he could without running.
000
Dinner had been easier than Sirius expected. As his father had said, his mother was acting a bit less icy to Sirius, even referring to him by name without sneering a few times. Regulus looked amazed that Sirius had emerged from Orion's study with no injuries, and kept shooting wide-eyed glances at him. For his part, Orion kept up a steady stream of self-congratulatory talk, speaking of his latest business deals and social activity. All in all, Sirius felt he had escaped relatively unscathed.
But now, lying in the dark, Sirius couldn't shake the unsettled feeling that filled him. His conversation with his father had definitely been littered with threats, that much was clear to him. But at least he wasn't being punished, or disowned, or any other horrible thing that could've happened…
But what was all that about "doing his duty" when the time came? What would that mean?
Sirius tossed and turned, unable to shake the disquieting thoughts. He finally drifted off to sleep with the comforting thought that at least Orion hadn't mentioned his friends at all. They were safe, at least for now.
000
Every hour, every minute of break seemed to crawl by. Sirius was bored out of his mind, with nothing but the dusty, gloomy hallways to keep him company. He wasn't going to risk sending any letters to his friends, and Regulus seemed too nervous to stay in the same room with him for long. Which left him with nothing but his textbooks to occupy his time, and even he wasn't that desperate yet.
He suffered through several of his mother's parties, stuffed into uncomfortable dress robes and forced to hear all the barbed comments about his sorting. As his father had instructed him, though, he kept his mouth shut, never snapping back, no matter how much he wanted to wipe that dumb smirk from Narcissa's face.
The only solace was seeing his Uncle Alphard, who had clapped him on the back and pressed a present into his hands when his mother wasn't looking, offering him a conspiratorial wink before mingling back with the other guests.
That evening, Sirius unwrapped the thin silver paper around the gift. A Gryffindor scarf tumbled out, warm and thick and golden. Tears sprang to his eyes automatically, and he blinked them away as he carefully tucked the scarf in his trunk underneath his robes.
000
Finally, Sirius's last night arrived. He suffered through dinner (though thankfully it was only their family, not a big party) and escaped to his room. All his things were packed, and he was bursting to leave. He couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts, but most of all he couldn't wait to see his friends; it had been a long, difficult month.
There was just one thing he wanted to do before he left.
Carefully, Sirius crept out into the landing, pausing to make sure no one was moving around. The house seemed quiet, so he set off down the hall. He reached his destination and pushed open the door.
Regulus was curled up in his blankets, his hair sticking up all over the place. Sirius felt his resentment toward his brother melt away as he saw him like that. He sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Sirius?" Regulus muttered, rolling over to face him, voice and eyes blurred by sleep.
"Yeah," he whispered.
Neither boy said anything for a while. Sirius thought Regulus might have fallen back to sleep, but he didn't know how to say the things he wanted to say to his brother. They were beyond the scope of anything an eleven year old could put into words.
"Sirius?" Regulus asked sleepily, some time later.
"Yeah?"
"I'll miss you."
Sirius laughed shakily. "I'll be back soon, you prat. And then you'll be at Hogwarts."
"But I won't be in Gryffindor."
"You never know."
Regulus snorted softly.
"G'night," Sirius said quietly, getting up and padding toward the door. He wasn't sure why he felt so much sadder than he had just a few minutes ago.
A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think!