CHAPTER FIVE – BORROWING
Kreacher was, in many ways, a perfect example of a House Elf of a Great and Noble House. Born of a long line of elves who had served the Blacks for many generations; fastidious cleaning standards, skilled in various cooking styles, and inbred loyalty to serve anyone who carried Black blood in their veins.
In theory, Sirius could simply order Kreacher to fetch him a wand and command him not to tell Regulus. However, in spite of being magically bound to have ingrained loyalty to each and every member of the prestigious Black family, the current serving elf bestowed quite obviously varying degrees of respect to individuals within the family.
Kreacher's loyalty to his mistress Walburga was absolute and unwavering, whereas Orion himself had never had the same sense of absolute command over the elf. Sirius had long suspected that he was destined to have the exact same problem as his father. Their ranks as blood-born heirs to the House appeared to mean practically nothing to the crotchety old elf beyond lip service.
The elf was choosey. And Sirius was not his pick.
The respect Sirius garnered from Kreacher had been merely surface level throughout his entire childhood. In front of other people, it was dutiful and respectful. Behind closed doors, Sirius might as well be a badly-behaved puppy who wouldn't stop pissing on the carpets for all the respect Kreacher seemed to grant him.
Regulus, however, had always had a much friendlier relationship with the family elf. Treating him as something between a beloved pet and a friend, old Kreacher had always been far warmer towards the youngest Black than any of the other children in the family and showed signs of being just as devoted to Regulus as he was Walburga.
It likely hadn't helped matters that as the Heir, Sirius had long been instructed by his parents to treat Kreacher as nothing more than a lowly servant that was beneath his notice. This guidance had inevitably led the rather spoilt child making impertinent demands for sweets and toys whenever he wanted, deeming his orders far more important than the elf's day-to-day duties.
Kreacher would obey any given order from anyone of the family bloodline, of course, but if you weren't explicit in your instructions, any loophole or ambiguity would be exploited in favour of someone else's preferred commands.
"Kreacher, I ordered you to keep a look out for mother!"
"Yes, young master Sirius, Kreacher did look out for mistress … "
"Yeah, but you were supposed to warn me if she was coming!"
Sirius had never forgotten the slow, sly smile that had graced that elf's face in that moment. Horrid little beast, he thought spitefully, sitting in his bedroom nursing the Stinging Hex burns on his hands that his furious mother had used to punish Sirius for trying to steal Floo Powder to sneak off to Diagon Alley for an afternoon. Enlisting the elf as a lookout had not been a wise decision.
It was a hard lesson to learn and young Sirius had never quite got the hang of being specific enough to close the loopholes. So as far as adult Sirius was now concerned, it was ludicrous to think that the elf's disposition had changed one jot over the past decade, and the young wizard was certainly not prepared to risk it. A kneazle never changes its spots after all.
Regulus had said very clearly in front of the elf that Sirius was not to have a wand, therefore attempting to enlist the aid of said elf was therefore doomed to failure.
Whatever Sirius decided to do, he was on his own.
-o-
While Sirius had been trying to formulate a plan to acquire a wand, an opportunity unexpectedly arose the very next morning over breakfast.
'I'm sorry I'm going to have to leave you all day,' said Regulus, buttering his toast. 'But I've an important meeting to attend today and then I'll be at the Malfoy's until this evening.'
Sirius looked up from his breakfast, trying not to grin at this fortuitous situation. The inkling of a plan he'd woken up with suddenly had the potential to work … with Reg out of the house all day …
'Kreacher will serve your lunch in your room,' Regulus continued. 'I will return for dinner so I'll see you this evening. Kreacher will see to anything you need. I'm sure you'll want to rest.'
'Yes,' said Sirius. 'I'm not really feeling up to doing much anyway.' He gave a small yawn to highlight this.
'Are you not feeling well?'
Sirius shrugged, nonchalant.
'Just a bit tired is all. Don't feel like I slept too well last night. Kreacher,' the elf's ears perked up. 'Run me a bath after breakfast – I fancy a long soak.' He turned back to his brother. 'I'll have a wash once I've had breakfast, then probably just get back into bed and try to get some more sleep.'
Regulus nodded. He seemed relieved.
'Don't forget to take your potion.'
'I know, I know – I'll take it once I'm out of the bath. Don't want to doze off in there.'
'Sensible. I didn't save your neck just to have you drown yourself in the bathtub.'
'I would just come back and haunt you for eternity. I'll hide the soap and leave water on the bathroom floor just to annoy you,' Sirius said with an evil grin.
Regulus smirked back.
'If you do that I'll find father's old book on ghost hexes and curse you to brush your teeth forever!'
Sirius pretended to be horrified at the thought. It felt good to have these kinds of silly back and forth retorts – especially without their parents around to tell them off. Almost immediately on the heels of that thought, Sirius felt a pang of guilt.
After clearing the table, Kreacher dutifully fetched Regulus his travelling cloak and escorted him to the hall, Sirius following behind.
The main entrance hallway had changed little, he was relieved to see. Like upstairs, it was mostly superficial – a few portraits had switched places, a different mat on the floor inside the door to wipe your shoes on. The old gaslights the same as always casting a semi-gloomy light about the place.
Sirius found himself considered suggesting that he and Reg redecorate – brighten the place up a bit, get some colour into the décor. The Victorian gloom of their parents' tastes had never really sat well with Sirius so it would be nice for the house to reflect the current occupants' taste.
But that was a conversation for another day, Sirius decided as he and Kreacher waved Regulus off. Regulus opened the front door barely wide enough to slip through and stepped out into the square beyond.
The front door barely had time to close behind Regulus before Sirius turned sharply to the elf.
'Kreacher!'
The elf looked round at the oddly conspiratorial whisper. Sirius crouched down and beckoned the elf closer, who obeyed after a moment of hesitation.
'Have you already made tonight's dessert?'
The elf shook his head, ears flapping.
'Would you make one of Reg's favourites? We seem to have been eating all my favourites lately. I know it's usually for special occasions only and it takes ages to make, but,' he fixed the elf with a pleading smile, 'Reg has been working so hard and I think he deserves a treat.'
'Kreacher will make young master Regulus's favourite chocolate gateau,' said the elf, nodding agreeably.
Sirius shook his head quickly.
'No, no – his other favourite. Baked Alaska.'
The elf cocked his head, looking doubtful.
'I remember he wanted it all the time as a kid.'
'But, young master –'
'Kreacher,' said Sirius, more firmly. 'Make a Baked Alaska for dinner tonight. You'll need to get started straight away if it's going to be finished in time.' He stood up straight, trying to imitate his father's posture and mannerisms, hoping that he looked similarly imposing and commanding. 'Now, run me a bath. I want to relax this morning so I don't want to be disturbed for any reason.'
To Sirius's slight surprise, the elf bowed low, murmuring 'As master demands,' before quickly shuffling off to the bathroom.
Relieved that the elf had actually obeyed him, Sirius allowed himself a small smirk. Baked Alaska took forever to make properly, even with House Elf magic – so it should keep the elf busy in the kitchen for most of the day.
Should give me more than enough time, Sirius thought to himself.
Sirius strolled casually back upstairs to the bedroom, allowing himself time to look about the corridors. As he arrived back at his room, it was clear that Kreacher had wasted no time in obeying orders. The bath was already ready and waiting.
'Thank you, Kreacher,' said Sirius, looking snootily around the bathroom, noting the fresh towels, the clean bathrobe hung on the door and the clean mats. Everything was spotless and in its place.
'Anything else that master requires?' simpered the elf, straightening the shampoo bottles.
'No, thank you. I won't need you for anything so don't disturb me,' Sirius put a hand into the water, as if the elf could have managed anything less than a perfect temperature. 'You'd best be off to the kitchen. I'm looking forward to that dessert.'
The elf bowed and stepped away, only to loiter in the doorway, until Sirius pointedly shut the door in Kreacher's face.
Sirius paused for a moment, staying absolutely still and listening keenly. When he heard nothing, Sirius pulled off his robe and dropped it the floor right by the door, making a soft flump sound. Then he stepped into the bath, making sure to splash just a touch louder than was necessary.
The shadow he could see just through the gap at the bottom of the door then retreated. After a few moments more, the bedroom door closed.
Sirius waited. There was no audible sound from the bedroom. Slowly, he climbed back out of the bath and put his ear to the door. Again, nothing. Throwing a towel around his waist (just in case), Sirius opened the door and confidently walked through, ready to tell the elf off if he happened to be loitering still.
The bedroom was empty. Sirius let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Kreacher had obeyed again. Wonders never cease.
Quickly, Sirius dropped the towel in favour of throwing his robe back on. It was darker so he hoped it would make him less noticeable if he was forced to hide from Kreacher if the elf ventured out of the basement kitchen.
Thankfully, Sirius's destination was only down one floor. So long as luck stayed on his side, he'd back in the bath before Kreacher could go about his daily household duties.
It was too good an opportunity not to try. There was no reason to feel bad either, Sirius decided, because he was keeping his promise to Regulus.
I promised I wouldn't sneak out of the house. I made no such promise not to sneak around the house.
Pleased with his own cleverness, Sirius quietly opened the door and peered out.
The corridor was empty. There was no sound beyond the soft snuffling snores of the portraits.
Sirius found him feeling quite relieved that Regulus had put all of the portraits to sleep, whatever his reasoning for it was. They were always half the trouble of trying to go anywhere in the house unnoticed. Half the portraits were sticklers for the rules and kept their parents informed as to their mischievous offspring's whereabouts, and the rest were manipulative or boring gossips.
It was hardly the first time he'd tried to creep around the house. It was just that Sirius usually got caught, committing the childish crimes of sneaking treats from the kitchen or simply staying up past his bedtime to play longer.
I'm not committing a crime, thought Sirius to himself as he tentatively stepped out, trying to ignore the niggling feelings of guilt. You just get told off so often you feel guilty before you've even done anything!
Sirius could almost sense his mother standing over him, ready to tell him off for his disreputable behaviour.
Technically, is this not stealing? A little voice of his conscious seem to whisper in his mind.
It's hardly stealing! Really, I'm just borrowing one until I get mine back. I'll return it as soon as I'm done with it.
Edging over to the railings, Sirius peered down the stairwell. There was no movement from downstairs. Kreacher should be busy in the kitchen, deep in the basement.
Still, out of habit and a sense of keeping alert, Sirius stepped as softly as he could towards the stairs.
It was still strange, his adult body. Each step he took felt just too heavy to be quiet, his body now too tall to effectively crouch and hide like he used to. Creeping down the stairs took longer than he expected to – keeping close to the wall and stepping over the creaky boards on the third and sixth steps. None of the portraits stirred as he arrived on the floor below and stood, listening again for any hint of Kreacher.
Nothing.
Feeling emboldened, Sirius tiptoed swiftly down the corridor to his right. Everything was going perfectly!
It wasn't until Sirius arrived in front of the door to his father's private study that he realised there was major problem that he'd failed to consider in his haste to enact his grand plan.
Father always kept the study locked unless he was inside. Past experience told Sirius that the handle was armed with a sharp Stinging Hex to prevent unwanted intruders encroaching upon the inner sanctum - only the head of the house could touch the handle unscathed. Sometimes Orion would change it for something different, such as a Pustules Curse - usually around Christmas or birthdays to protect gifts from being discovered. Sirius and Regulus had discovered that one to their cost last year. Sirius had learned by that point it was better to have someone else try the handle first … Reggie had been so angry and upset, he hadn't forgiven his brother until the New Year, his hands had been covered in itchy boils for days.
Sirius wished he could do more than recall events of over a decade ago, as amusing as that one happened to be. It wasn't helping his predicament at all.
The handle was a ball-shaped coiled serpent, cast in silver. The eyes seemed to glisten slightly in the dim light.
Sirius stood there, staring at it and wondering what to do.
If his hands showed any signs of a hex then Regulus would know immediately what he'd been up to. Sirius would have to somehow hide any stings or burns from both Reg and Kreacher to avoid being found out.
That said …
Sirius pondered whether the curse had been refreshed at all since his father's passing. These minor hexes didn't last forever – they needed to be re-cast regularly to stay effective.
Maybe he and Reg had done away with them?
The serpent's eyes shone … almost beckoning …
Sirius screwed up his resolve and stepped forward.
I've come this far …
Sirius grabbed the silver balled serpent handle and gave it a firm twist, bracing himself for the sharp sting.
The sting didn't come. There was no resistance – the handle seemed to glow faintly under his hand but in the dim corridor Sirius wasn't sure if it wasn't just a trick of the light – the door opened, much to his surprise and relief. The hex obviously wasn't in use anymore. Thank Merlin for that!
Slowly, Sirius pushed the door open wide. It creaked ever so slightly and the scent of stale air came billowing out. As Sirius stepped over the threshold, the gaslights automatically came on, bathing the room with a soft glow through the dusty shades.
The study itself was also far messier than Sirius had ever seen it before. Books on the shelves were no longer neat and tidy, and a number of volumes appeared to be missing. Loose papers, tatty scrolls, opened letters and assorted books littered every surface. The air felt thick, as if the room had not been aired out properly in some time.
Sirius bristled. Who on earth had left it in this state? He couldn't imagine for a moment it was Father – he had been far too fastidious a man to leave anything out of place on his desk. This room was rarely anything less than immaculate. It seemed almost sacrilegious for it to be in this condition!
It was quite irksome that Sirius couldn't order Kreacher to clean up in here without letting on that he'd snuck in and seen the state of it.
The distance chime of the grandfather clock in the hall downstairs nudged at Sirius, bringing his mind back to his original mission. He had been lucky so far, but he shouldn't dawdle.
Carefully, Sirius turned and eased the door closed behind him, wincing as it creaked from lack of use.
Then, he turned and slowly approached his father's desk.
How much smaller the desk seemed to be now that he was an adult. It had appeared huge to his ten-year-old self, a wide impressive expanse of dark polished mahogany that you could almost see your reflection in. Sirius had been permitted to sit in the big leather chair on occasion and draw on some parchment at the desk, pretending he was in charge of the family for an afternoon whilst his father did the monthly accounts beside him. Occasionally, Orion would make a show of puzzling over some calculation out loud, prompting Sirius to figure out the answer and 'help'.
Sirius wasn't sure whether he was about to smile or cry at the thought. It had made Sirius feel so clever (and rather smug he had to admit) to accomplish something his father seemingly couldn't.
Sirius wondered whether being physically older, he could instinctively understand now what his father had been doing – manipulating an otherwise reluctant child into engaging with the financial responsibilities he would be responsible for in the future.
Sirius sat in quiet contemplation of that for a minute – quite uncharacteristic of his younger self. Yes, he only had the recollections of his childhood, but did he hold more of a sense of maturity regardless? Was that more than just memory? Was he inclined to behave in certain ways because of things he couldn't recall?
It posed an interesting question – maybe one to bring up with Regulus over dinner. Right now, there was there were more pressing matters to think about. Time was of the essence.
Shoving aside a pile of loose papers and thick leather-bound books on inheritance law, Sirius felt around for the secret catch that was set into the wood. Invisible to the eye, but to the touch … his fingers brushed over the correct spot and he pressed down. A hidden drawer inside the desk clunked open.
The sound was far louder than Sirius expected and he froze, eyes locked on the door, ears straining for any approaching footfall. After a while of hearing nothing except for his pounding heart Sirius slowly sat down on the old, creaking leather chair. Again, he took a moment, just to feel the worn leather under his palms, breathing in the familiar scent.
Reaching into the drawer that had opened, he pulled out a large wooden case made of elaborately carved ebony and set it on the desk upon the mess of papers. The glass in the lid was a little dull, slightly obscuring the contents. Flipping open the sliver clasp, he raised the lid with care, and gazed down upon the contents.
The Black family wands.
Inlaid with soft burgundy velvet, the ebony wood case contained several trays of wands belonging to the most recently deceased members of the family. Neat, calligraphy labels set below each wand, bearing the name of the original owner.
Sirius's heart ached at the sight of the first two wands, half trying not to read the names as if that would soften the blow somewhat.
The elegantly simple dark cherry wand of his father sat almost regally in its setting, with the twisted walnut wand of his mother resting below it.
For a while Sirius simply sat there, feeling rather numb, and allowing his tears to fall and hit the velvet.
They were gone. Both of them. Here was the proof.
Sirius could remember, far too clearly, the last time he had sat here, looking at this very case. Mere weeks ago, or so it seemed to him.
'Father, why can't I just use one of these?'
Orion couldn't help but wince a little as he looked up from his papers to see his eldest son putting his fingers directly on the polished glass of the antique wand case.
'They won't be a perfect match for you,' Orion said, quite simply, returning his attention to his correspondence, quill scratching lightly on the parchment.
'So, I can't use these at all?' the child pouted.
'Not necessarily. They are simply as individual as the wizard or witch who wields them – the personal connection you form with the wand allows you perform to the full extent of your abilities. Another wand simply won't allow you to do that – even twins will not achieve the same results with one another's wand.'
Orion raised his own wand, and with a short sharp wave, the clasps on the case flipped open and the lid lifted with a slight squeak of age..
Sirius watched, awestruck, as his father held his hand out over the wands, slowly moving over each one in turn. One wand seemed to grab Orion's attention and he deftly removed it from its velvet setting.
Holding it up for his son to see, Orion then cast a basic spell.
'Lumos.'
At once the old wand tip glowed like soft candlelight, illuminating their faces. Sirius grinned hungrily at it. Just a few more weeks until he got his very own!
Orion then held up his own wand and gave the same command. The light that burst out of the wand was significantly brighter causing Sirius to screw his eyes shut against it.
'Do you now understand the difference?'
Sirius nodded. With the wands casting side by side, the difference was very obvious.
'One is a perfect match for me, the other is merely acceptable. Any wizard is capable of using any wand they hold, but only with a perfect match will you get the highest standard of spellcasting. Which is why,' the lid snapped shut, narrowly missing Sirius's eager fingers, 'you shall have your own wand in good time. One that will match you perfectly, not a poor wizards substitute.'
At Sirius's confused look, Orion explained, 'You will find when you go to Hogwarts that not all of the students will have their own personal wand. Those of lesser families will often have inherited wands – rather whimsical and sentimental reasons are often given, usually to cover up a poor financial status, but as I have just proven to you, there is no substitute for a perfect match.'
Sirius's eagerly twitching fingers reluctantly drew back from the display tray, looking a little crestfallen. Orion allowed himself an indulgent smile, putting a hand on his young son's shoulder.
'It is a fine occasion when a young wizard obtains his first wand. Your mother and I are looking forward to it almost as much as you are.'
'Reggie is going to be so jealous,' said Sirius, already imaging waving his brand new wand around, sending their toys flying around the nursery in his mind's eye, with little Reggie open mouthed in wonder, being impressed and jealous in equal measure of course.
Orion was now giving Sirius a mildly stern look as if he could see exactly what was going through his son's mind.
'Perhaps. But Regulus knows he is still too young by law and he does have more patience than you. Therefore, you are not to flaunt it in front of your brother, Sirius. It's bad form.'
Sirius gave a perfunctory nod, resuming his longing gaze of the wands.
'Are these all the family wands?'
'No, just those from the past fifty years. The eldest wands are stored in our primary Gringotts vault and you have seen that some are at your grandfather's house on display.'
'Like great-great-great Uncle Cetus's wand? The one that Oblivated an entire Muggle town?'
'Yes, indeed. A wand belonging to a wizard who could cast a spell over an entire town certainly makes for an interesting conversation piece, according to your grandfather,' Orion said, his tone suggesting that he didn't necessarily agree with his father's ostentatious displays of their more famous relatives.
Legend was that Cetus had been showing off to a visiting foreign witch, was seen performing magic by a local Muggle and Cetus had proceeded to cast a Memory Charm over the entire town, rather than just the Muggle in front of him – whether it was deliberate or not was debatable. In any case, the story was that the witch was also hit and she promptly forgot who Cetus was, and he had to start all over again with his attempts to woo her.
'Your grandfather likes to display the wands of more famous individuals,' Orion gently took back the case and returned it to its place inside his desk. 'The rest should be kept safe.'
Sirius couldn't imagine ever doing something famous enough to ever have his wand on display at Noir House. Not even trying to steady his shaking hands, Sirius gently lifted the top tray to reveal the one underneath. Looking at the neat calligraphy labels beneath each wand, there was a growing sense of loss as he read each one.
Seeing his grandparents' names was of no great surprise of course – they had been old a decade ago. But it was still saddening to realise that they were really gone.
Blinking away the tears, Sirius sniffed and gave himself a mental shake. He needed to focus on choosing a wand. Whilst he knew from his father that any of these wands would be a poor substitute, it was all Sirius had access to right now – and any wand was better than no wand at all.
Taking his cue from his father, Sirius held his hand out a few inches above the wand tray containing his parents' wands and closed his eyes.
Nothing.
He wasn't sure what he was meant to feel, but after waving his hand back and forth over both of the wands with no discernible response, Sirius decided moved on to his grandparents' wands.
Nothing there either.
He moved on to the next tray - an assortment of aunts and uncles.
After allowing his hand to drift over the tray a feeling that Sirius could only describe as a fuzzy tingle tickled his palm. Sirius stopped and slowly opened his eyes before drawing in a sharp breath.
An African blackwood wand.
Uncle Alphard's
For a few moments, Sirius sat staring at it, blinking back tears for his favourite uncle. A stark reminder that Alphard was no longer with them … that he'd never see him again … never get to bombard him with questions about his latest travels and what trinkets he'd collected …
Tears hit the velvet with a chorus of thuds in the silent study.
Sirius slowly took hold of the wand with a shaky hand. At once, the blackwood wand grew warm at his touch and a tiny spray of silvery sparks fizzled at the tip. Instinctively, Sirius could tell that the dormant wand had accepted a new user and out of all the possible wands he was very glad that it was this one that had answered him.
Just think – you could have been stuck with great-Aunt Vega's knobbly little ugly wand.
Sirius wondered for a moment whether he ought to continue, to see if he could find another wand that might do. But it was Uncle Alphard's wand. It felt both wrong and right to use it.
It felt comfortable in his hand, so Sirius gave it an experimental wave. A few more sparks fizzed and crackled like a miniature firework.
Taking a steadying breath, a whispered spell passed his lips.
'Lumos!'
A glow, faint at first but steadily growing, appeared at the tip of the wand.
Sirius let out a barking laugh of joy. It worked! It actually worked! He could cast!
Waving the wand more enthusiastically, drawing a squiggly line of light through the air, Sirius marvelled at it, feeling a huge sense of relief and renewed confidence. It may be far from perfect, but it worked well enough if this was anything to go by. It would do as a temporary acquisition.
It wasn't until the chiming of the grandfather clock reached his ears that Sirius abruptly realised how long he'd been sat there. If he didn't get a move on, Kreacher would start his rounds and be back upstairs before too much longer.
Closing the case back up, Sirius carefully returned it to its original hiding spot.
Sirius commanded the wand, 'Nox!' which obediently snuffed itself out like a candle, then quickly moved across the room towards the door.
Just as he reached for the door however, to his horror, the sound of flapping feet came pattering down the corridor. Sirius froze and cursed under his breath. That bloody elf was meant to be busy in the kitchen with that stupid dessert – what was he doing back upstairs so soon?
Listening intently, Sirius estimated the elf was at the far end of the corridor – that Kreacher wasn't coming this way. Cautiously, Sirius risked peeking out into the corridor, just in time to spot the back of the retreating elf disappear into the bedroom at the far end.
Not wanting to miss his chance, Sirius slipped out of the study, shutting the door as quickly as he dared, then hurried off in the opposite direction. There was a spiral stairway in the corner of the house, originally intended for the human servants of the household, now hidden behind a full-length portrait so that wandering guests wouldn't unwittingly enter the private quarters on the upper floor.
As Sirius reached the T-junction at the end of the hallway, he slipped behind a huge ornamental vase and peered back the way he'd come.
There was no sign of Kreacher. Sirius let out a shaky breath. His luck was holding out. All he had to do was walk down the left-hand passage and the stairway was just a short distance away.
But …
Sirius looked up the right-hand passage, hesitating. Should he risk it? The other prize he sought was just around that corner. Temptingly close …
He clutched the blackwood wand tightly.
If I don't go for it now, I don't know when I'll get another chance.
Kreacher might reappear at any moment …
The faint sound of scuffing feet reached Sirius's ears and he quickly bolted, hoping his gut instinct was sending him the correct way.
Racing around the corner, Sirius slowed down, tiptoeing as quickly as he dared before diving through an open door, closing it behind him with a soft snap.
Leaning heavily against the door, Sirius put his ear to the smooth wood, trying to hear over the pounding of his heart and slightly ragged breaths.
Time ticked by and there was no sound outside of the room.
Sirius let out a small laugh of relief. He'd made it undetected! Luck really was on his side today.
Feeling emboldened, Sirius turned to look about the room.
Generally referred to as 'the school room', this small library was one of many across the numerous Black estates. Two entire walls were stocked, floor to ceiling, with various books ranging from gory historic records through to more modern light novels for the ladies to enjoy.
It was also the room in which the children of the house were educated by an endless stream of private tutors, both prior to attending Hogwarts and during the school holidays to ensure all Black children were ahead of their peers. Just as per the last time Sirius had been in here, there were two desks in the middle, facing the blackboard that dominated one wall, and a larger desk for use by whichever tutor was present for the day.
Sirius walked over to the desks, curious to see how they had aged. There was no mistaking which one belonged to Sirius. One had more marks and scuffs on it than before, whilst the other almost as pristine as the day it was made. Sirius smirked. How uptight Reggie had been, always on his absolute best behaviour for the tutor – he'd almost had a fit when Sirius had doodled on his desk one morning, terrified that he would get into trouble for it. Kreacher had cleaned it up right away of course and then Sirius had been punished with no dessert.
The sound of footsteps outside the door startled Sirius and he immediately ducked down behind the desks, peering through the legs at the closed door, praying it would stay that way.
The footsteps slowed …. Then moved on past.
Sirius didn't dare move. Not wanting to make any noise that might alert the elf, he stayed still and slowly counted to fifty.
When no further sound could be heard, he cautiously got up.
'Shouldn't hang about,' he said quietly to himself. 'Get the book, get out.'
Not wanting to waste any more time, Sirius hurried over to the bookshelves, and started scanning the titles.
There was every book imaginable available that any studious young wizard could wish for to help with their schooling – The Basics of Potioneering: A Beginners Guide. A Comprehensive Guide to the Theory of Transfiguration for Children. The Children's Charms Chronicles. Herbology: Magical Plants of the British Isles …
'Ah ha!' Sirius exclaimed in relief as he spotted them: the Standard Book of Spells series.
There were two sets on the shelf – no doubt one belonged to Regulus. Probably the most pristine looking set. Smiling, Sirius reached out and grabbed the more tatty-looking volume of Book One.
Sure enough, on the inside cover was a label: Property of S. .
Flipping through the dog-eared pages and skimming the text, Sirius was fascinated to see words written in his own handwriting … but he had no recollection at all of writing them. There was no time to examine them right now. Sirius snapped the book shut and looked back at the shelf, pondering whether he ought to take the opportunity to take the second-year book as well –
There was something off about the books.
It took a moment, but it then dawned on Sirius that not all of the books he expected to see were present on the shelf. The set that clearly belonged to Reggie was there, all seven books neatly together in numerical order … whereas Sirius' own set only went up to book four – the last three books were missing.
Sirius quickly scanned the rest of the shelfing, wondering whether they'd been misfiled somehow – but he couldn't spot them anywhere.
'I really don't have time for this,' Sirius murmured to himself. Book one would have to do.
Shoving it inside his robe pocket, Sirius hurried to the door.
With Kreacher on the prowl, it was time to get back upstairs.
-o-
Kreacher's ears were twitching.
The young master was out for most of today. The other was meant to be taking a bath. There was nothing to distract Kreacher from his daily duties, bar the one request for a pudding to be made for this evening. A straightforward task for an accomplished house elf really, though Kreacher not made one in years.
So why did something not feel right?
Having set the various bowls and spoons to mix up the necessary ingrediants, Kreacher had set about performing his daily checks of each room; drawing curtains, opening windows for fresh air, when he thought he'd heard an odd sound from the corridor behind him.
Grimmauld Place was an old building, so occasional creaks and groans were expected. Kreacher knew the place better than anyone. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, the elf had hurried after the sound. But upon reaching the end of the corridor, there was no sign of anything.
Or anyone.
Kreacher's ears twitched, turning to try and catch any nearby noise. House elves had excellent hearing, particularly in their prime, but Kreacher was aging and his hearing wasn't what it was a decade ago. With the usual creaks and groans of the house on the edge of his hearing, it was getting harder to discern sounds at a distance.
Instinct, however, told Kreacher that something was afoot. And there was only one other individual in the house that it could be.
Kreacher scowled. It wasn't right that he would still behaving like a child … but young master Regulus had explained …
The idea that master Sirius might still be creeping about like the mischievous brat he'd been so long ago … it was not befitting behaviour.
The young wizard had claimed to be in the bath … but it wouldn't be the first time the wizard had lied about his whereabouts. He had cause no end of trouble as a child, and Kreacher was dubious at best about what to expect of him now.
Patrolling the first-floor corridors, Kreacher had seen nothing untoward. The sleeping portraits were of no assistance – young master's orders that they remain in slumber. Otherwise they would have been only too happy to tell Kreacher if he were simply hearing things or if his nagging suspicion had merit.
After a fruitless patrol of the corridors, Kreacher determinedly went upstairs to see for himself if the young wizard was up to no good.
'Young master Regulus warned Kreacher,' murmured the elf under his breath. 'Kreacher is to be vigilant.'
Reaching the next floor, Kreacher quickly entered the bedroom and looked sharply about the room, which was clearly empty, before padding over to the bathroom door and opening it.
'KREACHER!'
The loud indignant shout and accompanying splash of water from the bathtub startled the old elf making him jump.
'What did I say about not wanting to be disturbed?' Sirius growled angrily, sinking down into the tub. 'Get out! Now!'
'Kreacher is very sorry, Master!' simpered the elf, bowing and hastily retreating, shutting the door with a quick snap.
'Should box your ears for that!' the wizard yelled through the door.
Muffled apologises and flapping footsteps could be heard moving out of the bedroom, followed by a door shutting sharply.
Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, Sirius sunk down into the water, only now relaxing his grip on the blackwood wand under the bubbles.
-o-
Later that evening, Regulus was pleasantly surprised to have a generous helping of Baked Alaska served for dessert.
'Had to twist his arm a little. I don't know if it's still your favourite or not but …'
'It's great. Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you. Excellent job, Kreacher, well done.'
The elf beamed and shared a rare smile with Sirius. Good, though Sirius, he might be more willing next time I need him out of the way for a bit.
'How was your meeting?'
Regulus chewed slowly, his eyes taking on a glassy look for a moment. Or maybe it was the reflection of the flickering gaslights?
'It was fine. I have informed our Lord of your current status … he is pleased you're awake and appear to be otherwise unharmed.'
'That's … nice of him,' said Sirius slowly, unsure how else to respond to that. This Lord Reg kept speaking of was just a name to him – a stranger still.
'He will want to see you once you're well. He's extremely busy at present so his earlier instructions still stand. I'm to ensure you are re-educated in everything you've missed.'
Sirius nodded, trying not to smile too much at the thought of his secret plan to educate himself. Regulus was going to be so impressed.
Surreptitiously, Sirius allowed his hand to brush against the blackwood wand, laying hidden deep in his robe pocket.
'I look forward to it.'
-o-
Authors Note – as always, comments and constructive criticism is always welcome, and reviews are very much appreciated.