Sirius couldn't help the frustrated snort that escaped his mouth at his mother's words. She had been droning on and on and on about the party at the Lestrange mansion, as if this was the first time that they were going to a party. It wasn't even a Christmas party at that, just something the Lestranges had set up for no reason whatsoever (although Sirius had a feeling those 5 children were involved).
Across the table, Regulus had adopted his 'I tuned out a while ago' polite expression, and Sirius closed his eyes to think about anything but his mother's shrieking voice. Their father was so lucky to have a meeting at this time. Sirius was jealous that he wasn't able to get out as well, and he cursed Bellatrix and her mad tendency to be over the top about everything.
There was a loud crack. Sirius and Regulus startled badly, even as their mother turned her ire on Kreacher, who was bowing in apology.
"Get a move on, you filthy creature," Walburga sneered, turning away from the liquid that had sloshed onto the floor.
"Why does she even keep him?" Sirius muttered, frowning at the elf that consistently made his life miserable. Regulus shot him a sharp look, to which he just rolled his eyes. If Regulus cared about people half as much as he cared about that stupid elf, Sirius knew that half his problems would be solved.
"You," Walburga shrieked, turning her ire onto the two of them, "change into some neat clothes, and behave well."
Sirius didn't roll his eyes at the warning in her tone, despite the urge to do so, simply out of years of practice. Regulus had the same suffering expression on his face, and sometimes, Sirius spent hours contemplating why Regulus acted the way he did. The two of them were more similar than Regulus would ever admit, and Sirius had to wonder why.
"Yes mother," he ground out, when she didn't turn away. "I will behave perfectly."
She sneered at his tone, clearly upset with something (the faint thread of sarcasm, no doubt), and then whirled around and left. Watching her, Sirius really didn't understand where the cold, emotionless, stoic pureblood thing even came from. Of all the purebloods he had met, none of them were even slightly stoic, other than maybe grandfather.
"We should go get ready," Regulus said, even as he turned away from his room and towards the kitchen. Sirius sighed.
"And you shouldn't spend as much time as you are with that elf."
Regulus glared; the slight remains of baby-fat on his face making it look more like a scowl. "You don't have any right to judge what I can and can't do."
Sirius scoffed, shaking his head. Stupid hierarchy and stupid Regulus. He needs to learn to stand up for himself.
"Whatever," he muttered, leaving his brother to comfort the elf. "As if you would listen to me anyways."
Regulus didn't say anything in response, and Sirius couldn't help the sharp pang that went through his chest. He hadn't expected anything from Regulus, but he knew that his brother didn't like him anymore. Not since the stupid Gryffindor argument. It wasn't like he chose Gryffindor or anything. Sirius wouldn't have believed that one single doubtful thought could change his life so drastically.
"Get ready in time at least," he threw back, before walking out of the room.
He could see the indecision on Regulus' face, but he didn't want to deal with his brother's nonsense, any more than he wanted to deal with his mother's. Sirius wasn't exactly sure he even wanted to be here, in this dark, dusty house. He grimaced as he scuffed his foot on the carpeted stairs, not looking up at the decapitated elves. Why did his mother have such tacky decorations? James' house was much, much better.
Sirius walked into his room with a bitter scowl. It would be so much better if I could just mope in my room for the rest of the vacation.
"Hey, Sirius!" James' voice hissed.
Sirius scowled even more. He didn't need to be hallucinating James when he was dealing with his family. He just wanted his little break from everything, didn't his brain and hallucination James understand that much?
"Siri," James yelled again, dragging out his name as much as possible. "Where are you?"
Sirius sighed. "What do you want, ghost?"
Because clearly this was a ghost, if it wasn't a hallucination. There was no way for James to be talking to him when he was in his dratted family mansion with the absurd amount of wards because his grandfather and father were two of the most paranoid people in the world (excluding that new weird auror that Sirius had met all of once before declaring him his favorite).
"Did you just call me a ghost?" James? Not-James asked, surprise and confusion coloring his tone. "You think I'm dead? Siri… I'm not dead! Please don't wish me dead!"
Merlin, Sirius couldn't be paid to deal with this. James, or not-James, or whatever, was whining at him. He wanted to shut the stupid thing up, but how was he supposed to do that without knowing where James was? Huh, right, he could just ask.
"Where are you even talking from?"
James paused his whining and Sirius breathed a quiet sigh of relief. If this really was James, and he had a lot of doubts about that, he didn't want to antagonize him further. Their relationship was already strained enough by the kidnapping incident. Which he could find out about now.
Sirius felt a thrill of anticipation go through him. He could use this party to find out what happened to those poor kids and then maybe James wouldn't blame him for it anymore. If he solved the problem, then he couldn't be blamed for the problem after all.
That makes no sense, Remus' voice said, and Sirius knew that this was in his head. His consciousness definitely imitated Remus whenever it was making more sense than he was.
"Your trunk isn't really very neatly packed," James said, complaining loudly, and Sirius groaned as he rolled off the bed.
For all that his parents were annoying, and his house was the most concerning thing he had set foot in, at least the comfort of the furniture was pretty good. Again, Sirius really didn't understand where the 'purebloods have uncomfortable chairs' thing came from, and he had heard quite a few people in Hogwarts complain about that.
Shaking his head to pay attention to the current conversation with James, Sirius shoved open his trunk completely and started rooting through it. It didn't take long for him to find James – his grinning face looking out at Sirius from a mirror that James had given him as an early Christmas present.
Sirius could feel the smile growing on his face. "Jamie!" He nearly yelled, suddenly glad that the silencing spells around his room activated automatically. "How did you do this! It's genius!"
He turned over the mirror, and titled it sideways, just trying to examine it. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the stylized writing that said, 'Merry Christmas to my best friend'. Sirius had no idea why James chose to write that, but he didn't ask, oddly touched at the thought anyways. What he did want to know was how James managed to create it.
"What spells have you used on this?"
James shrugged, shoulders barely visible in the pocket mirror. "It's indestructible and will always stay reflective. It works by calling out names. I've only managed to connect these two mirrors, so you just need to call out my name, and it will open the connection."
"Can we do this for more mirrors?" Sirius asked, mind already whirring through different ideas and places where they could use this. The amount of mischief they could cause would be unparalleled. He couldn't wait!
James titled his head, similar thoughts going through his head. "I'm sure we can, but I haven't figure out how. I'll have to think about it once I'm done with my current thing."
Sirius nodded, not bothering to ask what James was working on. James' father might have been an auror, but that didn't change the fact that the Potters were a family of inventors and that was how they grew their wealth. Sirius knew that James had his own little tests to become the head of his family, and they were nearing his 16th birthday as well.
Someone banged on his room door, and Sirius jumped, cursing the person to the ends of the Earth.
"What do you want?" he yelled back. "I'm changing!"
He winced at the lie, before wriggling his fingers at a wide-eyed James and throwing the mirror back into his trunk. "I'll talk later, Jamie," he whispered, "got to go now."
The banging ceased thankfully, but Sirius didn't want to risk more yelling when he went out, so he threw on the clothes Kreacher had thoughtfully left out for him in a hurry. Making sure his hair was combed through, and looked presentable, he inched his way out of the room.
Running on the stairs was forbidden, and he could see Regulus traipsing down without a sound, so he followed. Sirius didn't know why his parents insisted on the silence while going down the stairs, but he didn't want to question them about it. Merlin forbid they give him another lecture.
Somehow, it was this silence as he walked down the stairs that caused the problems. Or well, gave Sirius things to think about.
He had barely crossed the landing on the first floor, when he recognized his mother's signature shrieking from the room, voice rising sharply. Sirius had seen Regulus just walk down the stairs, so it couldn't be him mother was shrieking at. And the only one who could get her to lower her volume was father anyways.
Which is why Sirius took the few steps back to the landing, so he could press his ear against the door and eavesdrop.
We need to create something to help with eavesdropping, he thought, even as he muttered a spell that would increase his hearing. I'm willing to bet we're going to end up in these situations more often now.
Sirius normally liked when he was right, except in instances like this – situations that involved the war that would only lead to more death and less citizens of magical Britain. Sirius knew from grandfather's lectures that it was a bad thing, but he hadn't been paying much attention and now he cursed politics even worse than he had as a child.
"Sirius needs to be controlled, Orion!" Mother whispered. "We cannot allow him to just run amok, let alone with that nasty Potter child and the other Gryffindor half-bloods."
"What do you want us to do, Walburga?" Father's deeper voice spoke up. "Lock him up like a misbehaving child? Brand him like a slave against his wishes?"
"Nobody's branding anyone, Orion!" Mother said, venom dripping from her tone.
"That Dark Lord is," Father mocked, derisively.
"That Dark Lord is the most powerful wizard in years, decades!" Mother argued back. Sirius pressed closer to the door as Father hissed something back at mother.
"He's going to change the world, Orion." Mother exclaimed abruptly. "We can either support him or die with all those light bastards."
"And how's he going to do that?" Father's voice dripped with scorn. "By branding powerful, ancient, pure-blooded families?"
Mother scoffed. "He's got power Orion. And those children he took will be of the utmost use, especially as hostages against the light. You'll understand when you see the children later today."
Sirius especially hated it when he was right. He knew that Voldemort had taken the children, what else would the death eaters be doing in Knockturn that day, celebrating at that? But Sirius hated that it was confirmed that the children were being kept in Lestrange Manor and that the party was just a farce for the Dark Lord to show off his power or receive gifts. Whatever his mother said.
He pressed closer, trying to listen and get all the information he could, but he had to scramble away quickly when he heard his mother's shoes clacking against the floor, getting louder as she neared the door. He did hear his father's voice though, speaking even as the knob turned, "We can't allow our family to fall that far, Walburga, especially after the mess that was the previous war. I won't let you do it over an unstable gamble."
Heart thudding in his chest, Sirius made his way down the rest of the stairs, mind far away from James' fancy invention, and thoughts of finding the children. He wouldn't be able to do much for them now anyways, not as he saw the two remaining children being portkeyed away to an unknown location. At least he could confirm that they were still alive, for now. It would be something he thought about later. He knew he spoke to one of the children, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember the conversation, other than the vague feeling that the child said he had no problem being the sacrifice, so long as the world had a better future.
He remained preoccupied by his father's words for the whole of the Lestrange party, not causing any problems, because he knew what his father meant, and he knew the lengths his mother would go to prove herself right.
Sirius knew that his father would eventually agree to join this war, and he knew that there was only one way for him to stop his family from getting involved – if he convinced his grandfather that it was a bad idea.
Sirius felt like his stomach was gnawing itself, twisting into complex knots at the thought.
Because Arcturus Black was one paranoid, hard-to-convince person.