Worth the Wait

Chapter Five: Five

Summary: What happens inside 12 Grimmauld Place on November the third and the introduction of Regulus.

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November the third was a tense day in 12 Grimmauld Place. The shadow of Walburga Black's anger could be felt in every crack and crevice despite the fact that no one in the house ever saw her on this day. It had been that way ever since Sirius could remember. His tutoring lessons were always canceled and absolutely nothing was expected of him on that day. In fact, he spent most of the day in his room, and last year he hadn't even bothered to venture out. Meals were always cold and delivered to each person's room. No one ate in the dining room, and everyone maintained a tense, terrified silence. Even Regulus was quiet, though Sirius suspected that perhaps a silencing spell had been cast on him like it used to be cast on himself before he learned how to make no noise on this day. Sirius didn't exactly know why his birthday always caused his mother to disappear and the entire house to go silent, but he figured it was just another weird family tradition. Except no one talked about this one. Ever.

Sirius didn't mind being unofficially confined to his room this year. That only meant he could spend all day writing and drawing with his soulmate (and Hope). Although R's English had gotten better throughout the year, Sirius could tell he still relied heavily on Hope. R was always quicker to respond when they were communicating in pictures than when Sirius used words. Sirius didn't mind so much though, because having R draw pictures was better than having nothing at all.

Picking up his lunch tray from outside his door, Sirius crawled back into bed with his bottle of ink and quill. He had never communicated with his soulmate during the day before and was excited at the thought of getting to talk to R and Hope for hours instead of just mere minutes before he inevitably fell asleep. He wondered if he should start by telling them that today was his birthday, and that he was five years old now. Certifiably wiser and more mature than he had been yesterday. He wondered what Hope's reaction would be.

Taking a chance, he wrote out 'It's my birthday' on his arm and waited. He wondered what R did during the day and if he would even see what Sirius wrote. Placing his quill on his bedside table, he began to dig into his cold sandwich. It seemed liked even the house elves were doing minimal work today. Once he was finished with his sandwich he looked back at his arm and let out a surprised yelp. There, right below his declaration, was a messily drawn and colorful birthday cake with five candles (R's doing, no doubt), and written below it in Hope's handwriting was 'Happy birthday my little star!'

His attention was soon diverted from his arm as there was a low rumbling that went through the entire house, almost as if the house itself was heaving and getting ready to yell. He clasped both hands around his mouth and stayed very still. How could he have forgotten that today was a day of complete silence? Sirius shrunk back into his bed and curled up beneath his covers, both hands still tightly placed against his mouth. He shut his eyes and waited for the rumbling to stop. Somewhere, downstairs he could hear something shatter, and he flinched. Somewhere closer to the attic he could hear a muffled scream, though whether in anger or pain or sorrow, he couldn't tell.

This was the first time that he had remembered there being noise on this day. And now that he heard it, he hoped it would also be the last. He would take the almost oppressive silence to this terrifying uncertainty of whether or not the screaming and rumbling and shattering would come to his room next. He wondered if perhaps there was some secret monster that lived in 12 Grimmauld Place that could only come out on this day. He felt almost nauseous at the thought.

Slowly, the screaming upstairs stopped, and a few moments later, the house settled down again. Not quite silent, but more like an ordinary house than a living one. Sirius cautiously opened his eyes, blinking a bit to relieve some strain from having kept them squeezed shut for so long. He carefully removed his hands from his mouth, being absolutely sure not to utter a sound. He looked at his arm again, and there were more decorative stars and an attempt at Canis Major. Sirius silently traced R's inaccurate constellation (Sirius the star was really off and more left than the actual constellation, but Sirius would give his soulmate a pass for the effort). He let out a small, silent smile. He wondered if R's birthday in March had been a happy one. Hope had written happy birthday to him after all. He couldn't imagine what a real happy birthday would be like, but as he kept staring at his arm and seeing more stars added (and little red ovals with squiggly black lines coming out the bottom that Sirius couldn't figure out what they were supposed to be), he felt that today was definitely happier than his past birthdays. Reaching for his quill, he neatly wrote 'Thank you' wherever there was free space on his arm.

The rest of the day continued with various exchanges of pictures and a few words between Sirius and Hope every now and then. Sirius faltered a bit when the question of presents came up (children got presents on their birthdays?), but otherwise it was as pleasant as this day could be. By dinnertime, Sirius was surprised to find himself tired and sleepy despite not having done much that day. He went to bed without bothering with dinner that night, too tired to open his door to collect the cold dinner undoubtedly left out for him.

The next day, everything returned to normal within the Black household and absolutely no one spoke of anything that happened. Sirius went about his routine with breakfast, lessons, lunch, more lessons, and dinner. His mother was present at breakfast and dinner as was routine, but was remarkably paler than usual. Her white skin a dark contrast to her plum colored lipstick. There was a pained look in her eyes and a tension in her mouth when she curled her hands into fists, as she did most of the time Sirius saw her. Sirius was unsettled during breakfast and dinner. A part of him kept waiting for her to snap at him, but she stayed silent. She didn't speak a word the entire day.

It took a few days before Sirius could put the unease of his birthday completely behind him. His lessons had increased ("You're five now, Master Black. Time for more advanced lessons."), much to his displeasure. His tutor still hadn't gotten any less gray or boring, unfortunately.

After the new year, Regulus was finally allowed to start his own lessons (and sit for meals at the dining table with Sirius), so at least he wasn't alone with his tutor anymore. Both brothers were placed in the same room, sharing the same gray tutor, though he lectured each boy separately.

Sometimes Sirius would look at Regulus and wonder if he was ever that slow and unsteady when he was a toddler. Regulus was a strange boy, Sirius decided. He wasn't allowed to spend all that much time with the toddler, but even he could tell that. His brother always looked like he was on the edge of tears, with big watery eyes and a quivering lip. His slightly chubby hand struggled to hold the quill properly, and Sirius could tell that if given the choice Regulus would choose to be anywhere but in the library, being forced into lessons.

Sirius suddenly thought of R and how he definitely didn't have lessons (he could tell that without Hope's help they'd be awful at communicating in words with each other). He wondered if R was a pureblood. His stomach twisted at the thought, and he knew his answer. Sirius unconsciously put a protective hand on his left forearm. Staring at his brother struggling with even copying the alphabet, Sirius wondered if R was even capable of magic. Real magic, not soulmate mark magic, because he knew even muggles had that. Something felt very heavy in his chest at the thought that R was a muggle.

His first thought was of his mother and the hateful line of her lips whenever there was talk of muggles and filthy blood and blood traitors. His second thought was of Hope and kindness and an offer for love. R couldn't be a muggle, he decided. He didn't fit anything his mother had said of muggles, and Hope definitely didn't fit either. They weren't muggles. They couldn't be.

"Master Black! Focus on your own work, please."

Sirius tore his gaze away from his brother and to his tutor. He squinted and only saw gray. "Sorry," he muttered before directing his eyesight back on the heavy tome in front of him. History of the Black family. Exceedingly dull. In the background, he could hear his tutor lecture his brother about the proper way to hold a quill, and he could hear sniffling. He didn't think he cried when his lessons had started. His brother was weird.

Sirius stared blankly at the book he was supposed to be reading. What if they were muggles? Maybe his mother was wrong about how all muggles were barbaric and uncivilized. He frowned. But everyone agreed with his mother. This was silly, he decided. He didn't even know if they were muggles. Besides, didn't muggles have another language so that anything purebloods said wouldn't be understood by them?

R hasn't learned English yet, he remembered with a sense of panic. But he lived in Wales, Sirius tried to reason. Maybe Welsh wizards spoke Welsh? Were there even any wizards in Wales? Sirius thought there must be, even if he hadn't heard of them. After all, he hadn't heard of—he leaned forward and squinted his eye—Eduardus Limette Black before, and surely he existed. He was even in a book.

He'd have to ask them tonight, he thought. Only, he couldn't just ask in case they were muggles. He'd have to be clever about it.

"Alright, why don't we take a little break, hm? I shall be back in fifteen minutes' time after a short discussion with your mother, Masters Black."

Sirius blinked and looked up to see his tutor walk out the library doors. He looked over at Regulus, who was still sniffling with tear streaks down his cheeks. His hands were stained with black ink and the sheet of parchment underneath his quill was messy with wet, leaky ink blobs. Sirius didn't remember ever being that messy and he was filled with dread about what their mother would say.

He got out of his seat and walked over to Regulus, whose eyes had widened. Regulus tried to wipe away his tears with his hands but Sirius moved quickly and caught his fists in time. "You'll get ink on your face, Reg," he said. "Just wait, okay?" Sirius moved to grab a handkerchief his tutor had left on the table and dipped part of it in the glass of water his tutor kept and magically refilled when he needed. He walked back to his brother and started cleaning his face, gently wiping away the tears and snot. Then he cleaned up Regulus's hands, making sure all the black ink was gone in case his mother decided to pay them a visit.

"Thank you," Regulus said in a small voice, and Sirius thought about his relationship with Hope.

"We're brothers," he said. "We've got to stick together, okay?" He felt Regulus move, and before he knew it, Sirius had a toddler hugging him, Regulus's chubby face pressed against his shoulder. "It's okay, Reg," he said, wrapping his arms around his brother. "I'll look after you."

By the time their tutor returned (alone—Sirius almost cried with relief), both boys were back in their sit. Sirius was pretending to read the history text and Regulus had a fresh sheet of parchment and quill, neatly lying side by side. The old man went over to Regulus's desk and started instructing the boy, a bit gentler this time, as if he had not made mistakes before the break. Sirius wondered what his mother had said.

Later that night, back in his bedroom, Sirius crawled into bed and pulled out the ink and quill he had started to keep in his bedside drawer. Tonight, his arm was covered from the inner elbow to wrist in streaks of color, forming a rainbow. Sirius again marveled at the idea of being allowed to have colors.

Chewing on his lip, he hesitantly wrote out a question to Hope. It was one thing for someone to offer something to you. But to ask? Sirius didn't have a lot of good experiences with asking for things. But he also didn't have a lot of bad experiences with Hope either, so he thought those two would cancel out.

'Can my brother have a loving mother too?'

Sirius waited for a reply, wondering if perhaps he was asking too much. But before his thoughts could spiral into something worse, he saw Hope's handwriting appear right beneath his. 'Absolutely.' Sirius grinned and started to draw the Leo constellation, forgetting to ask whether or not Hope and R were muggles.