There he was, back on platform 9 for the first time in months. He had been so excited that morning—Sirius was coming back! They had last seen each other around Christmas and he couldn't wait to finally see his brother again.
But everything changed when they got back on the platform. Every last bit of excitement was drained out of him the moment they landed. Terror crept into his body as he stood still in shock, refusing to move as his parents tried to usher him towards the train.
"Are you all right?" His mother finally asked after several failed attempts to get him to move.
Regulus frantically shook his head. No, he was far from all right. He wished his parents would take him back home to safety, back to where he couldn't be hurt, where there would be no Aurors trying to hurt him, where the flashes of green weren't necessary...
"Come on, Regulus."
She nudged him gently, and he took an involuntary step towards the hordes of parents and siblings waiting for the train to arrive. A group of kids ran past him, and he jumped as their robes brushed against him, grasping his mother's hand. Aurors, disguised as children, they had to be. So many people, so many people who were after him, after his parents, after Bella...
He tried to focus on his breathing. In and out. In and out. He had to remain calm, he was in public.
A deafening sound tore him away from his thoughts, from his breathing exercises, back to the present. The Hogwarts Express entered the platform, and the families seemed to erupt in cheers and laughter as their children were reunited.
Regulus tried his best to spot Sirius in the crowd. He wanted to put his hands up, call out his name—something, anything to make himself more visible so his brother would be able to find them. But he was frozen, unable to move, unable to say anything. Drawing attention to himself wouldn't just help Sirius...
Families were leaving, and Sirius still hadn't found them. He was there, right? He didn't know what ge would do if his big brother had been hurt some way.
A bespectacled boy with messy black hair made his way over to them. Behind him were man and woman he could only assume were his parents, for the man and the boy had the same unruly hair. But the woman held onto a second boy, a boy Regulus knew all too well, Sirius.
These strangers had captured Sirius.
Sirius had been hurt after all. He didn't seem himself, he was fidgeting nervously, avoiding his gaze, he was being held captive by these horrible, horrible people. And they were smiling about it, too.
He wanted to run up to them, curse them to hell, take Sirius and run. But he had no wand, and felt weak, and his parents were there and surely they would do something about it... why weren't they doing something about it?!
"Fleamont."
"Orion," the man, Fleamont, nodded back at Father, and Regulus' mouth fell open. They knew each other?
"Come here, Sirius," Mother urged him, but the woman stepped in.
"We were wondering if you would mind Sirius staying with us for the summer holidays," she asked.
"Absolutely not," Mother said sternly. "Sirius. Come."
"Sirius doesn't want to come, does he?"
Sirius looked up at the woman, then back to the ground. "No," he mumbled.
"That's nonsense! He's just saying what you told him to say," hissed Mother.
Father and Orion were still glaring at each other. Regulus saw his father's hand clutching his wand behind his back, and he hoped he would sweep in and save them all.
"No, you just kept him locked in his room all Christmas!" The bespectacled boy yelled, to everyone's surprise. "You're a mean old hag-"
"James!" Sirius flung at the boy, suddenly getting back his energy. "Shhh!"
But the damage had been done. Both Mother and Father had their wands drawn, and Regulus pushed himself behind them in fear. He stared at Sirius, who was laughing now as he wrestled with the boy he had called James. He glanced back at Fleamont and his wife, who had their own wands drawn, and then looked over his shoulder. The platform was all but deserted as everyone had gone back home already. They were the last ones left.
"I highly recommend you lower your wands," the woman said, "or I might just let something slip the next time we have tea with the Crouches..."
"You have nothing on us."
"Want to find out?"
A chill ran down Regulus' spine as tense silence washed over them.. Regulus knew one wrong move would lead towards a disaster not unlike the one back in September in the Muggle house. He felt a mixture of fear and confusion about what the woman knew about his family, but above all, he was desperate for this to end without anyone getting hurt.
He glanced at his brother, who had stopped wrestling, whose eyes were fixed on the scene, holding his breath. James, the boy, stood next to him, a look of confusion etched into his face as his eyes flickered between the adults.
Regulus' heart hammered in his chest as the seconds ticked by, seemingly taking forever before Father lowered his wand, breaking the silence. "Lower your wand, Walburga," he said, his vice barely above a whisper. Regulus swallowed hard, his throat achey and dry as he stared at his father, then back at his mother who mirrored his movements.
The woman's lips curled into a sly smile. "Wise choice," she said, as she and her husband lowered their own wands. "Now, perhaps we can discuss this matter like civilised people."
"We are his parents, we know what's best for him."
"What's that?"
"It is best for a boy to be with his parents," Mother's voice barely concealed her anger, but it was impressive enough that she managed to refrain from raising her voice.
"Exactly," Fleamont interjected. "The boy needs parents, not people who lock him up for something as silly as school houses!"
That wasn't why they had sent him to his bedroom, Regulus wanted to say. He wanted to scream at them to see the truth, that Sirius had gravely misbehaved, even threatened him with his wand, that Christmas came so shortly after they had been attacked that everyone was still shaken, but Sirius just came in like nothing had happened, acting as if he owned the place... but he said nothing.
"Perhaps you think it good parenting to let your son run amuck, but we prefer to raise a boy who knows how to behave himself," she said, glaring at James' unruly hair, "and to be presentable."
"Sirius," Father said, gesturing for him to join them. "Come here, and we might discuss your options this summer."
Sirius didn't move.
Father took a couple steps in his direction, prompting Fleamont and his wife to point their wands at him once more. He took a step back, and stared right at Sirius. "Get over here. Now."
Sirius looked between James' parents, then back at Father. He even looked in Regulus' direction, but for some reason, avoided eye contact. He still didn't move.
"We want you home, son. It'll be a fun holiday, it's nearly your brother's eleventh birthday."
"Regulus would want you home, don't you Regulus?" Mother chimed in, putting a hand on his shoulder as she pushed him forward.
He nodded, he had been so excited about having his brother back for the whole summer, and afterwards, they'd both go to Hogwarts, and they'd be together for the rest of the year...
But he never imagined his brother wouldn't want to come home. He never imagined Sirius would have some bespectacled boy with unruly hair whose parents wanted to take him home. He never imagined his brother would be like this, and it was messing with him.
And yet, to everyone's surprise, Sirius stepped forward.
"That's right, son," Father said. "Come here."
Sirius reluctantly walked over to him, and Regulus felt himself relax. Sirius was coming with them, he was coming home, and everything would be okay.
-
Father let out string of swearwords as soon as they got home. He kept go of Sirius and cursed the bespectacled boy's parents under his breath. Regulus, who had Apparated with, watched as Sirius quickly backed up against the wall of the hallway, accidentally knocking one of the paintings of one of their ancestors off the wall.
With wide eyes, he apologised as the man in the painting let out a high shriek. Sirius tried to make himself as small as possible, and Regulus noticed for the first time just how scared his big brother was.
The painting's scream had got Father's attention, bringing him back to the present. His anger seemed to have subsided as he was putting the painting back up again, much to the pleasure of his ancestor.
Sirius was slowly backing away, towards the stairs. Regulus watched him, wanting to go after him, to comfort him, to welcome him back—but his mother had berry her hand clasped tightly around Regulus' arm, keeping him from moving away. She stood as if nailed to the ground, her red face twisted with anger and embarrassment. It wasn't long before she found her voice again, raising her free hand, her wand arm, at Sirius. "I don't know what's got into you, boy!"
Regulus desperately tried to release himself from her grip as Father sped towards Sirius, Mother's wand raised at them both. "This Hogwarts has done nothing but ruin you! We ought to take you out of school, homeschool you, maybe-"
"Walburga, dear, lower your wand," Father's calm voice silenced Mother for a second, before she exploded. In her fury, she released Regulus, charging at both Father and Sirius.
"No! He despises me, my own flesh and blood! Durmstrang ought to sort him right out!"
She came to a halt just in front of Father and Sirius, and Regulus backed away slowly, not wanting to become part of her little outburst.
"Now, now, that's a little dramatic," said Father, ever so calmly. He stood between Sirius and Mother, partially shielding him as Mother seemed uncontrollable, waving her arms around like a maniac, sparks flying out of her wand.
"DRAMATIC?! ME?!" She bellowed, her voice so loud it hurt Regulus' ears. "He is a BLACK! He ought to ACT LIKE ONE!"
Father grabbed both of her arms, his face inches away from hers as he hissed. "As should you."
Mother stopped dead in her tracks. "What did you say?!"
Father wrestled her for her wand, while still trying to keep a hold of her. He spoke calmly, but his voice was cold. "Boys learn from their mothers, dear. With how you're acting, it's no surprise Sirius is the way he is."
Regulus watched the scene, tensed up and trying not to attract attention to himself, but failed desperately as Mother hadn't forgotten about his existence.
"Regulus!" She yelled. "He's my son, a proper son! It's not my fault the eldest is a blood traitor-"
Smack.
Father had hit Mother across the face with his hand which now held Mother's wand, and Regulus couldn't take it any more. He spun around, ran towards the door, yanked it open and sprinted outside before anyone could stop him. He ran down the front steps and onto the streets as fast as his legs could take him, and ran along the street, around the square, along yet another street and into an alleyway between some Muggle houses. He ran until his legs hurt, begging him to stop, and collapsed against the back of a brick wall belonging to one of the houses.
It wasn't until he sat there that he allowed himself to cry, letting the tears steam down his face, the snot pour out of his nose, the slime in his mouth nearly choking him as he took ragged breaths, gasping for air in-between long cries.
He didn't notice the people walking by, he didn't notice them giving him weird looks, silently judging him. He had his head buried in his arms, hiding away from the world.
"Regulus?"
Hearing his name made him look up through his tears, his tears clouding his vision as he tried to calm his breathing as he realised who had called his name.
"Aunt Lu-Lucretia," he stammered, trying to steady his voice. "I- I-"
She shook her head. "This is disappointing, Regulus. What are you crying for? Why are you in the backstreets of Muggle London? You are incredibly lucky nothing has happened to you!"
"W-what do you..."
"It's dangerous to venture into Muggle neighbourhoods, Regulus! Especially at night, and especially now. Come on," she said, pulling him to his feet.
He steadied himself and dried his eyes, wiping his face with the hem of his sleeve.
"Regulus!" She yanked his arm away from his face. "Don't wipe that on your robes!"
He mumbled an apology and she let go of his arm. "Let's get you home."
He nodded, and she started taking him home. They passed some funny looking Muggles, but he kept his head down and tried his best to ignore them. If they looked at them for too long, his aunt told them to mind their own business, and they quickly hurried off. He was safe with her.
It was nearly all dark as they reached the front steps of the house. Aunt Lucretia knocked on the door a couple times, a hand resting on his shoulder as they waited for the door to open.
"Why were you in Muggle London?" Regulus finally got the courage to ask. "I mean, if it's dangerous..."
"I had some business to attend to."
"What-"
But before he could ask about what business she attended to, the door had opened, and Father stepped out, wand in hand. He pointed it straight at Regulus and his aunt, his face unreadable.
He tried to take a step back, to get to safety somehow, but his aunt's grip on his shoulder tightened and he couldn't get himself to move. "Orion, look what I found," she said slowly.
"Lucretia." He lowered his wand slightly as he extended his free hand for Regulus to take. He grabbed his hand, but Aunt Lucretia hesitated for a moment, still holding onto his shoulder.
"Luca," said Father. "Let him go." He took another step outside, his wand pointed at Aunt Lucretia once more as he pulled Regulus toward him. He stumbled as Aunt Lucretia's fingers lost their grip and he fell towards his father.
"Get inside," Father whispered to him. "Quickly."
"But-"
"Get inside," Father repeated, his eyes and wand both focused on Aunt Lucretia, who stood calmly in front of her brother. Regulus didn't understand what was going on, Aunt Lucretia had brought him back, why was Father so angry with her? He wasn't going to hurt her, was he?
Father shoved him back with his free hand, his wand still pointed at Aunt Lucretia. Regulus stumbled towards the door, stepping inside and hiding in part behind the wall, looking through the doorway to see what would happen next, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Leave now, and I won't hurt you," Father said, his voice sending shivers down Regulus' spine. The words repeated in his head as he watched them. Aunt Lucretia didn't move. She didn't grab her wand, she didn't turn to leave, she barely seemed to breathe or blink.
"I said leave," he repeated, and she was pushed back by an invisible force, flying across the street, landing on the ground with such force Regulus shuddered to think what might have happened to her. She could be really hurt, maybe even unconscious—or worse. And what if Muggles found her, it was night, and she had warned him about being out there at night just moments before. He felt his breathing get out of control as his mind went over all the possible scenarios that might happen, and none of them was good.
He snapped out of it when he was pushed further inside, the door shut tight. "Get upstairs," Father said. "Now."
Regulus hesitated, but his father had started muttering charms, waving his wand around the door. He slowly went towards the stairs taking a few steps, looking back at his father every so often as he made his way to the first floor. He still didn't understand what was going on, but part of him was scared, very scared, by how his father was acting.
Slowly, he moved up the staircases until he reached the topmost landing, and went to his own bedroom. He crawled up in his bed and missed his puffskein more than ever before. He just needed something to hold, to snuggle, something that would pur loudly as he pet it, something to care for and to love.
He pulled the covers over his head, pushed his face into his pillow and screamed. He hated them, he hated them all; he hated his brother for leaving him and for wanting to say with some other family this summer, he hated his mother for how she misbehaved, he hated his father for hurting his mother and his aunt. He even hated himself for not being able to do something about it all.
"Reg?"
He hadn't heard the door open, he hadn't heard the footsteps approaching his bed, but he did hear his brother's concerned voice, and felt even more guilty than before as he slowly pushed the covers off, turning his face to look at his brother, whose eyes were just as red and puffy as his own.
"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed as Regulus pulled himself into a sitting position, drying his eyes on his sleeve. His aunt's words came to mind and tears once again clouded his vision as he remembered her being thrown across the street. All because of his father—no, because of him. If he hadn't ran away...
He shook his head. No, he was not okay.
"What's wrong?"
Regulus tried to tell him, he tried to find the words to tell his brother about what had happened, but there were no words for it.
They sat there, next to each other, in silence. He felt his eyes get heavy, the exhaustion setting in. It had been a very long and very busy day, but above all, a very emotional day, with him going to Platform 9 against his will, then the confrontation between his parents and the bespectacled boy's parents... the argument back at home, him running off into Aunt Lucretia...
Aunt Lucretia...
He hoped she was okay. She had to be. He still couldn't believe Father had hurt her, had thrown her out so literally, but if word got out she was seriously injured, or worse... he didn't want to think about it. He didn't know what to think.
Regulus and his brother slowly dozed off in each others arms on the his bed, reality fading away as they entered their dreams; a safe haven for the night.