Year of the Wolf

9. Misery at 12 Grimmauld Place

It was easier to fit in the compartments of the Hogwarts Express without school trunks. They were only gone for a couple of weeks and just could not be bothered with packing everything back up only to have to unpack it all again when they returned.

Remus faced these holidays with a muted excitement, glad not only to see his parents again, but to get away from the stress of the O.W.L.s. He slept most of the way back, still a little exhausted from the recent full moon, though he noted how much easier they were these days. For the second month running he had woken with no injuries, only the usual aches and pains that came with the transformation. And he had been so much more aware of himself. It wasn't the same as keeping his mind during the transformation, but the wolf was not as intense or as angry and occasionally even listened to him.

Whatever he got the others for Christmas, it would never be enough after what they had given him for no other reason than they were his friends.

The goodbyes they exchanged when the train arrived back in London were quick and perfunctory - they would see each other again soon and if the usual schedule applied there would be owls every other day.

He ran straight into his mother's arms when he found his parents, drinking in her love as his father caught up and joined them.

'You're looking well,' she said, running her fingers through his short hair as she pulled back. 'Oh my darling, I missed you so much.'

She kissed him on the cheek before his father jovially demanded a hug and he was pulled into another, crushing embrace.

'You're growing up far too fast,' Lyall said. 'I almost didn't recognise you.'

There were days when his parents had been all he had, and though he had found three amazing best friends since then, he still craved the company of his mother and father, still appreciated all that they did to keep him and to protect him. He had the best family in the world, anyone else who claimed they did was just wrong.

'We parked the car out front,' Lyall said as they turned towards the exit. 'You can tell us all about your term on the drive back.'

He saw James and the Potters behind them, and Mrs. Pettigrew disappearing through the barrier with Peter. He thought for a moment that the Blacks had already left when an audible crack nearby distracted him and all three Lupins stopped in their tracks.

Sirius closed his eyes, his head turned away from his mother, face set in a stubbornly blank expression. Walburga Black glared at him with a look of distaste and fury, the imprint of her hand still upon her son's cheek.

'You are sixteen years old!' she hissed through clenched teeth. 'Sixteen, and I am still receiving owls about your behaviour.'

Regulus stood at his brother's side and looked away, said nothing.

'Are you determined to make a fool out of your father and I, to destroy the name we uphold?'

Remus wished that Sirius would say something, but he knew Sirius Black, knew that he would never give her the satisfaction of a response.

With a cry of frustration, Walburga grasped Regulus's hand and marched towards the barrier. Orion looked at his eldest son for a moment before he grabbed him around the back of neck and pushed him forwards.

Lyall moved suddenly at Remus's side, but he reached out and grabbed his father's hand.

'Don't!' he pleaded.

'Remus-'

'You'll just make things worse for him,' he said desperately. 'I know it's not fair, but if you say something, it's not going to be you they take it out on. They already don't like the fact that he's friends with me.'

Hope held his hand tighter, and he squeezed it back. Perhaps Lyall felt what Remus felt whenever he thought about the family his friend was going home to.

'Are they like this all the time?' Lyall asked. He sounded horrified at the thought, and Remus could almost see the Ministry worker in him making enquiries.

'Sometimes worse than others, I guess,' he replied. 'But Sirius is tough. He can handle it.'

He wasn't convinced, so he knew that his father wouldn't be. But the truth was that if anything was going to be done, it was Sirius himself who had to do it. Anything they tried would only make things worse, and if it didn't, it would come back on them and Sirius would not want that to happen.

So, the Lupins remained silent and made their way towards the barrier, Remus feeling rather guilty that he was going home to such a warm environment.

Prongs,

Has Padfoot been sending you owls? Who am I kidding? Of course he has. Please tell me I'm not the only one getting worried here. He's not sounding at all like himself, and I don't know what to do. We have to get him out of there for a while, even if it's just for a day or two.

Let me know what you think,
Moony

James must have read and reread the letter a dozen times. He agreed with everything Moony had said, and Sirius's boring, trivial owls were worrying him too. There were no signs of anything bad occurring, but it sounded very much like their friend was going stir crazy and slowly losing his mind. It had only been two days since the start of the holidays; this was not a good sign.

He would write a reply later, when there was an owl free to take it. For now, he needed to take his mind off things before he was the one going crazy. And, he had an idea.

His father was in the hall, levitating a fallen piece of tinsel back up the wall. When he found his mother in the living room she called him over and patted the settee beside her. As he walked towards her, he saw that she had an old family photo album open on her knee and was smiling fondly at the sights before her.

'Look at this one,' she said, pointing to a photograph of a chubby baby laughing away on its mother's knee. Mrs. Potter looked younger then than she did now, her hair only slightly streaked with grey and her face much less lined. She was still beautiful, and that smile could still melt even the coldest of hearts - she must have been nothing short of stunning in her youth. 'You were only about six months old there. You see, your hair always had a mind of its own, even then.'

He smiled as baby James bounced up and down on his mother's knee. She seemed so happy in the photograph, and nothing had changed.

'Are these all photos of me?' he asked cautiously. Perhaps she was on another one of her nostalgic kicks.

'Some,' she said with a smile. 'Oh look, that was taken just after your seventh birthday.'

There seemed to be little order to the photos, and he realised that it was a collection of her favourites, all arranged neatly and lovingly on the thick pages of the album.

She turned another heavy page and a curious emotion overcame him. There, at the centre top of the page, grinned Sirius. It was taken only the previous year, at the Quidditch World Cup. James stood over his shoulder, screaming at the camera in juvenile excitement. Just below that was a photograph of all four best friends in their tent, and to the right was an image of James and Sirius taken in Diagon Alley when they were both twelve, grinning widely over Florean Fortescue's best sundaes.

Mrs. Potter's hand suddenly covered his as it rested on the page.

'Honey, tell me what's on your mind,' she said softly. 'You've been so quiet ever since you came back. Did you not enjoy the decorating? Your father and I could have done it before you came back.'

He shook his head. Decorating the house together on the first day of the holidays was almost a tradition - he'd probably have thrown a tantrum or at the very least gone in a huff if they'd done it without him.

'I was thinking...' He was careful to choose his words, because he did not want to worry his mother. 'Maybe we could invite Sirius for New Year? Remus and Peter too. We could have fireworks and a big dinner...what do you think?'

Mrs. Potter smiled.

'I think that's a lovely idea,' she agreed. 'How about we invite the Lupins and Mrs. Pettigrew too?'

'We don't have to invite the Blacks, do we?'

She laughed at the distaste upon his voice.

'Of course we don't.'

'Then that sounds good!'

He had not realised that her arm was around him until she pulled him into her side and kissed his messy hair.

'I know you're worried about him, sweetie,' she said softly. 'And I wish there was something I could do, I really do.'

James may have been fifteen years old, almost sixteen, but there was just something about a mother's embrace that made one forget just how old they were. He would always be grateful that he was so close to his parents. They showered him with so much love, and he wished far too often that he could just share some of that with his less fortunate friend.

'I think having you as a friend may almost cancel out that horrid family,' Mrs. Potter joked. 'I must say, your father and I were worried that we had spoiled you a little too much, but I am very proud of the man you have become.'

'I'm not a man yet, mum.'

She laughed again and held him tighter.

'Good. Because I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet.'

The whole, entire family. Not just Cygnus, Druella and their two least amiable daughters with their significant others, but both sets of grandparents, and even Great Aunt Cassiopeia. Every remaining living relative with the surname "Black", that's who was coming to stay for Christmas. Alphard was really the only one he could stomach being in a room with for more than five minutes - how was he to last all Christmas with the whole lot of them?

He had hidden in his room for most of the holidays so far, leaving only for meals and the occasional lecture of how he was expected to behave himself and be polite - yes, Sirius, even to Lucius Malfoy - and generally be an heir worthy of the Black name. And he had so far stayed out of trouble, had even resisted the urge to undo Kreacher's decorating and replace it with his own. Until he had sought peace and quiet in the drawing room, of all places, and caught sight of the hole in the tapestry where Andromeda's name once was.

I wish you were coming, he thought to himself. Not that I'd wish our family upon anyone, but these things were always more tolerable when you were around.

'Sirius!'

He rolled his eyes at the sound of his name. What now? What had he done that they had taken issue with? He was pretty sure he had been holding his breath as he eyed his own name on the tapestry, so it couldn't have been that. He was still alive though, surely that counted against him?

Orion sat at the long kitchen table as Walburga fussed about in the background with Kreacher at her heel. There was an open letter on the table in front of him and he looked up from it only to cast a vague look at his son as he entered.

'Sit.' He gestured to a chair at the opposite side of the table.

'I'd rather stand, if it's all the same,' Sirius said. Sitting would mean accepting that his father was in charge and after four years of open rebellion and eleven of a slightly subtler vein, he wasn't about to start bending the knee now.

'Suit yourself. I have a letter here-'

'I can see that.'

'Enough of your cheek!' Orion's voice was hard now. He was a quiet man, one of very few words, but he did know how to control his voice. 'You will show me respect; I am your father.'

Orion waited a moment, perhaps for an apology, but he wasn't going to get one.

'It's from the Potters.' Sirius swallowed. They would never send anything that would get him into trouble, but his father was evidently not pleased with the content of their letter, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered to address it. 'They want you to stay for the New Year.'

At this, Sirius's spirits sharply rose, but he tried not to let it show. New Year with the Potters would be wonderful. Any time at all would be, really. If the family were staying for the entire holidays (he had not dared ask), then it would be a nice reprieve for sure...

'Can I?'

Orion looked up at him, his steely grey eyes betraying no emotion.

'I expect the half-blood will be there?'

Sirius's fists clenched at his side. He would not have let a random Hogwarts student get away with talking about Remus in such a derogatory tone, but if he was to stand any chance of getting out of there, even if just for one night, he needed to play nice.

'Probably not,' he said. 'He has his own family, probably has his own plans.'

'As do you.'

The light was slowly dwindling. Orion wasn't going to allow it.

'Would it not be rude to turn down the invitation of a respectable pure blood family such as the Potters?'

'You have responsibilities to your own family, Sirius,' said Orion. 'You will be of age soon and you have not yet shown the required...mindset expected of the heir of this family.'

So that was it. He wasn't going. He was doomed to spend the rest of the holidays with them.

'Speaking of which,' Orion continued, carefully folding the letter before handing it to Kreacher, perhaps to be destroyed. 'How are things at school?' To say that Sirius was shocked to hear this would have been an understatement. Neither of his parents had ever shown any interest in school, or in any other part of his life that didn't directly involve them. 'I understand that you are doing extremely well in your classes, but how about outside the classroom? Are there any girls in your life?'

This, Sirius was sure, was the most awkward conversation he had ever had in his life. What did he tell him? That if Orion thought he was still a virgin and discriminated based on blood, then he was rather deluded? Perhaps he'd like to know about the time he'd been caught snogging some muggle girl in front of a movie theatre and been chased down the street by her father (James had loved that one)? He had already kicked up a storm when he found out about his posters.

'None you'd approve of, I'm sure,' he answered with a grin.

'Bellatrix married into the Lestranges,' Orion reminded him. 'Narcissa is uniting our family with the Malfoys - what are you doing for this family?'

He wanted to say "trying to pretend I'm not a part of it", but didn't think it wise to wind him up even further.

'I'm only sixteen,' he reminded his father.

'And you need to start thinking about your future. Your mother and I can always arrange something for you, just remember that.'

The silence that fell told him that the conversation was over, no further questions. He kicked every step on his way up to his room, fuming internally. Not only had his father taken away his only chance of having an enjoyable holiday, but he had threatened to set him up with someone. There wasn't a single girl in his family or any that they approved off that he would be happy to marry. He didn't even want to get married, not yet. He was far too young and there was a war going on, one he was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore.

Regulus's door was ajar when he reached their floor and he decided, perhaps foolishly, that he wanted some company. Regulus had been quiet since they had returned, but he had not shown any open animosity towards him.

Pushing the door open, he stepped into the uncomfortably green room. Just as Sirius was proud to be a Gryffindor, Regulus was proud of being a Slytherin. Anyone who did not already know that they were related would never have guessed it, stepping into both their rooms. They certainly wouldn't have guessed that they were brothers.

Regulus was not in his room, and Sirius sighed heavily. This house just felt so closed-in sometimes.

He had turned to leave when he saw them, stuck to the wall above the bed beneath that stupid Black family crest Regulus had spent an entire summer painting. Little newspaper cuttings, some with moving pictures.

He moved closer to them, leaned over the bed to get a better look. With every word, his heart sank farther and farther into the pit of his stomach. They were all about Voldemort, about the 'pure-blood' movement and the Death Eaters. But it was not just the content, it was what the entire collection symbolised: it was a shrine.

'What are you doing?'

Sirius turned, blood pounding in his ears.

'What is this?' he demanded. 'What is all this?' He had pulled one off the wall and held it out as evidence of some wrongdoing.

'That's none of your business!' Regulus said as he snatched the clipping from his hand.

Sirius didn't know what to say. he couldn't believe that his little brother was collecting this stuff, that he looked up to this so-called "Dark Lord". It made him feel sick, made him want to tear each and every clipping off the wall, and the Slytherin banners too for good measure.

'This is my room, you have no right to be in here!'

Something dawned upon him. A horrifying realisation, constricting his lungs as Regulus returned the piece of paper to its place on the wall.

'You want to join him, don't you?' he asked. Why he had asked, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that he didn't really want to know the answer. 'You're planning on becoming a Death Eater, aren't you?'

'Get out of my room!'

Regulus was red in the face, pushed Sirius from his bed.

'You have no idea what you're doing!' Sirius shouted. 'This isn't some "great honour", it's not some noble cause, it's genocide in motion, and you really want to contribute to that?'

'GET OUT!' Regulus screamed, and he grabbed his brother's shirt in his fists, threw him out onto the landing with strength that surprised Sirius. 'STAY OUT OF MY ROOM!'

The door slammed with a painful finality. Little Regulus, a Death Eater. It wasn't even the shame that crippled him. He had lost. Regulus had lost. He was one of them, and he had taken it a step further.

When Sirius collapsed on his own bed, he felt as though he were mourning the death of someone close. Regulus had always been his parents' son, had always followed their beliefs without question. But he was just a naïve little kid, soft enough to believe the things his parents told him. He wasn't cruel. It was so easy to hate his parents, but Regulus...he was just a kid. Fourteen years old, and already aspiring to be a Death Eater.

He didn't emerge from his room until Walburga called up the stairs when dinner was ready, and he waited for Regulus's footsteps to disappear. When he emerged, he saw that there was now a sign upon Regulus's bedroom door, handwritten and carefully displayed.

Do Not Enter
Without the Express Permission of
Regulus Arcturus Black

AN - Thanks for reading! And a huge thank you to redheadleela, PhoenixFireHope and Buttermilch for reviewing; I always appreciate feedback!

As always, please review and let me know what you think!