CHAPTER FOUR – QUESTIONING

It felt like no time at all before Sirius was again sat in the parlour with Regulus, the table now set for dinner as Kreacher began serving what was apparently the first course out of a full blown five course meal.

'I'm starting to think I ought to be ill more often,' Sirius quipped as Kreacher served yet another finely prepared dish: smoked salmon with lemon cream.

Regulus looked rather smug, as if he'd orchestrated the whole meal himself.

'You need to eat well if you're going to get well,' Regulus said, almost sagely, watching as his brother began to devour the food as if he'd been starved for days.

'I bet the food at Hogwarts wasn't half as good as this,' said Sirius, eagerly shoving a forkful into his mouth.

Regulus chuckled appreciatively.

'Absolutely. The Welcome Feasts were always very good, but the day-to-day was quite sub-standard compared to what we're used to.'

Sirius pulled a face. Their parents had briefly considered sending them to Beauxbatons – partly to honour their family's French heritage and improve their French language skills. By all accounts, the standard of living and food was exquisite and more in keeping with their upbringing.

Ultimately though, Orion and Walburga had agreed that Hogwarts would be better for their sons in the long run, to better maintain relationships with the other members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

The mouthful of salmon suddenly tasted odd in Sirius's mouth. Like he couldn't quite swallow it with the butterflies now going off in his stomach. With some difficulty he managed to force it down.

'I … err …'

Regulus looked over at him, patiently waiting for his brother to string a sentence together.

'I … um …,' casting around for a sensible question, couldn't formula one, so Sirius blurted out, 'did I get that chocolate birthday cake I wanted?'

For a moment, Regulus looked thrown by the question, but then burst out laughing.

'Oh, yes, you got the cake you wanted. It was an absolute monstrosity! You fully deserved that stomach-ache!'

Sirius smiled. Rather than have Kreacher bake one, he'd begged for some grand looking tower of a cake he'd seen in a boutique bakery window, chancing that mother would overlook that it was a Muggle establishment. She must have relented to his request just for the occasion.

'You got everything you asked for,' Regulus continued, tucking into his starter with more elegance than Sirius could recall ever seeing him manage. 'Grandfather hosted your party at Noir House – we had all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families in attendance, all of our extended family. Some distant relatives from France even came over.'

'Sounds like it was pretty big,' said Sirius, wistful at the lack of memory of the event.

Regulus's face twitched.

'Of course. Nothing but the best for the first-born Heir to the House of Black after all. Grandfather made a big speech, going on about continuing our family traditions, honouring our heritage, and looking forward to the day that you would be Sorted to Slytherin.'

There was something off about the way Regulus was speaking but Sirius wasn't at all sure what was wrong. A peculiar sense of unease gnawed at him.

'I … I did get Sorted to Slytherin … didn't I?' Sirius asked, his stomach knotting again, fearing where this was leading.

An odd, closed look greeted this question.

'Of course you were. What else would you be?'

The brothers looked at each other in silence for a moment. That statement should have felt reassuring but it wasn't.

'That's a relief,' said Sirius, hoping he sounded genuine. 'I was worried for a bit that I wasn't a good fit for Slytherin – that maybe I'd been Sorted to Hufflepuff and disowned!'

Reg gave a stilted huff of a laugh which Sirius found surprising.

'You were raised a proper heir to this House, Sirius. There's no reason to question which House you were going to end up in. Mother and Father were very proud when they received word of your successful Sorting – not that anyone had any reason to be concerned of course.'

Again, there was something off about the way Reg was speaking but for the life of him Sirius couldn't think what was wrong.

'Well, Wiggins did say that I had the brains for a Ravenclaw,' said Sirius, recalling a recent tutor they'd employed. The comment had been made in passing as a result of his essay on transmutation theory, but it had got the young wizard thinking.

And worrying.

Regulus pulled a face as he remembered the portly old wizard with obviously distaste.

'That old buffoon? You should forget everything he ever taught us – mother fired him when she discovered he was teaching us about the contributions of Muggle-borns to our society.'

He couldn't have infused the word 'contributions' with more derision if he'd tried.

Sirius averted his eyes as Kreacher offered up the next course.

'That's a shame. I liked him. He knew loads about Transfiguration and Herbology. Far better than Madam Vaugh.'

'She was an honourable Pure-Blood and an expert in Herbology,' said Regulus sternly. 'Professor Sprout has fairy-moss for brains in comparison. No surprise, being a Half-Blood of course.'

It took a lot of self-control for Sirius not to roll his eyes. His little brother had apparently turned into a carbon-copy of their mother. Walburga had always been the most vocal about the importance of blood-status, and although Orion did hold the same views, he tended not to voice them quite so bluntly. Sirius had questioned it somewhat as a small child but over the years had learned not to – it had infuriated Walburga no end for her values to be questioned and any whiff of differing opinions were swiftly chastised.

As his parents often pointed out to Sirius whenever he dared to speak his mind and question anything – he had never spent any time with anyone other than fellow Pure Bloods, so what did Sirius really know about Halves, Mudbloods and Muggles in order to question anything?

Sirius had learnt to hold his tongue over the years.

Most of the time anyway.

'You'll make friends with suitable children, of course,' Walburga had sniffed over dinner one evening. 'Slytherin has far fewer undesirables than any other House, but a few still get Sorted there, so you must be vigilant!'

'Yes, mother,' said Sirius, obediently but not overly listening.

This line of thinking brought up the question that Sirius had been dreading to ask most of all.

'Did I make any friends?' he asked, trying to sound unconcerned but pushing his food around with nervous energy.

Regulus appeared to give this some considerable thought before answering.

'I wouldn't say either of us made any close friends,' he said, slowly. 'To be frank, as much as we have many connections and associates, we've never really entertained the notion of socialising for the sake of it.'

Regulus gave Sirius a more encouraging smile.

'We've always had each other, Sirius. That is what's important.'

Sirius nodded, but he could feel the disappointment swell in his chest. Sirius had known how difficult it would be, of course he had. It had been drummed into him often enough to be suspicious of everyone other than family. But it didn't make the disappointment any less painful.

Sirius had been secretly hoping for some time to meet another young wizard like himself at Hogwarts, someone he could be himself around. Sirius and Regulus had never been permitted to socialise with any other children who weren't a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight – Hogwarts was going to be their first time amongst other young wizards of lower social status. If the reputation of Slytherin house held true, then most children in that House wouldn't necessarily have the purest intentions when it came to offering a hand of friendship. Almost every member of the Twenty-Eight were in Slytherin, and Sirius didn't particularly like any of them.

It was the reason that Sirius had found himself wising that he wouldn't be Sorted to Slytherin.

The idea of being a Ravenclaw as Wiggins had suggested had taken hold, leading to daydreaming of being something other than what his family expected. To be able to choose a different House …

Ravenclaw was perfectly respectable as far as the other Houses went. Contrary to popular belief, not every single member of the Black family had been members of Slytherin. A number of Ravenclaws had married in over the centuries, not to mention witches from various European countries who had obviously attended other schools. There was even a Hufflepuff somewhere on the family tree – married to some third cousin or other who wasn't generally brought up in conversation.

It was really just those born of the main line that were expected to remain purely Slytherin – upholding tradition and honour. Which was exactly what was expected of Sirius and Regulus.

Now, Sirius loved his baby brother to bits, but Sirius had wanted a friend his own age for some time. A year at boarding school without Regulus around had been a dreary prospect that the young wizard had not relished the thought of. Not that they would have shared classes when Regulus arrived the following year anyway, so the boys would have had to make their own friends eventually.

Which was why Sirius had dared to imagine that making friends in a different House might be far easier. None of the other Houses had the same cut-throat reputation as Slytherin, valuing things like intellect and hard work instead. But the fear of what his parents would say if the Hat didn't select Slytherin …

Sirius knew all about the Sorting Hat – there wasn't much his parents hadn't seen fit to inform and instruct him on regarding Hogwarts. It wasn't befitting of an Heir to turn up clueless and uninformed. Being so early in the alphabet, Blacks were called up pretty quickly and more often than not were the first new members of Slytherin for that year's intake.

'You'll be welcoming other First Years to the table,' Orion had reminded his son, one afternoon on the subject. 'It sets a precedent that you are in charge of that group and they will follow the Black name naturally. Keep your head up, back straight – no poor posture! Other children will be arriving unprepared and likely nervous, so you will be able to establish your position quickly.'

'Yes, Father.'

Further guidance as to where the Slytherin common room was located was also drummed into him. Down in the depths of the castle dungeons, there were a maze of dark stone corridors to navigate to find the entrance. Sirius had never laid eyes on it but with his father's precise instructions Sirius was sure he could walk it even if someone had cast Blindness on him.

'A Prefect will be assigned to lead the First Years there, but you should be at the front and lead with confidence. The only thing you will need from the Prefect is the first password.'

Orion had even gone so far as to instruct Sirius on choosing the correct bed in the dormitory – '… furthest from the door so you won't be disturbed so easily – ideally chose the middle so that you sit as if at the head of a table – it's a subliminal tactic to show your authority.'

Everything was about maintaining the family's position in society, not embarrassing them, and forging working relationships with other Houses. Protecting their wealth, status and reputation. Everything was about his duty as Heir to the House. Merlin forbid he do anything to embarrass the family.

There was never any real discussion about making friends – beyond maintaining a healthy dose of suspicion of anyone who extended a hand. Everyone had an ulterior motive … nobody wanted to be 'just friends' with a Black. Trust no-one but a fellow Black, and even then, you should be wary.

It had made Sirius feel lonelier than ever. As much he'd been looking forward to going to school, the fear of not making any friends had been a growing source of worry the past few months.

Sirius had been wondering which inclination had won out in the end; the expectations of his family and his desire to make his parents happy … or his own selfish desire for actual friends.

He sighed a little to himself as Sirius accepted that he must have done 'the right thing' in the end. Sorted to Slytherin like a good Heir should.

So why did he feel like crap? It felt like he had a headache coming on.

Feeling quite dejected, Sirius looked sadly over at Regulus, whose focus was clearly on his food.

What a miserable first year I must have had, mused Sirius. No one to talk to about anything other blood status and how important our families are … I just wanted to be friends with someone who didn't give a toss about me being Heir to anything –

A bolt of pain shot through Sirius's head and he dropped his cutlery with cry.

'Sirius?' Regulus looked up, alarmed. 'What's wrong?'

Hand in his hands, Sirius's vision swam, his head throbbing. Everything seemed to blur and go grey for a few moments.

Suddenly, Regulus was there crouched beside him, hand on his shoulder, face full of concern.

'What's wrong? What happened?'

Sirius opened his mouth to answer but a wave of nausea bit back his tongue and he screwed his eyes shut against the glow from the gaslights – they suddenly seemed far too bright.

'Kreacher! Fetch some water!'

A goblet of water was gently placed in Sirius's hands and he took a shaky gulp of the cool liquid.

'Did you remember something?' asked Regulus, sounding very concerned.

Sirius shook his head, then winced at the movement.

'No – no, I just feel like someone's hit me around the head with a broomstick all of a sudden.'

Regulus frowned, then waved his wand over Sirius's forehead. A wisp of bright purple smoke plumed out of the tip and twisted into a number.

'Hmm, you are a little warm.'

'I'm fine, Reg, really. You don't need to fuss.'

It was true – just as quickly as it had come on, the pain in his head seemed to ebb away. Vision clearing, Sirius sat up and blinked hard.

His brother's face swam into view, giving Sirius an appraising look, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

'I'm fine,' said Sirius, more firmly. 'Let's just finish dinner and then I'll go back to bed, ok?

Regulus look down at him in silence. Then there was twitch of a smile.

'You just don't want to miss out on the tiramisu, do you?'

The brothers both let out a huff of laughter.

'Busted!' chuckled Sirius with a shrug. 'Some stupid headache isn't coming between me and dessert!'

Regulus was still looking at him funny, but he returned to his seat and gestured to Kreacher to resume serving the next course.

Shaking off the last of the haze, Sirius asked, 'What was your favourite subject? Do you remember mine?'

His brother gave him a thoughtful look.

'Oh, mine was Ancient Runes, but I was excellent at Potions and Charms. As for your favourite … do you remember anything at all?'

Sirius shook his head and Regulus waved a hand impatiently.

'Take a guess – what do you think your favourite was?'

Obediently, Sirius sat back and gave it some thought. There were few subjects he'd covered at home that were a challenge for him, and less that truly interested him. There had, however, been one subject in particular he'd been looking forward to studying.

'Transfiguration?' he ventured. It was a good a guess as anything else. He genuinely couldn't recall.

Regulus, however, seemed very pleased.

'See? Exactly right – you were in the top three of Transfiguration consistently your entire time at Hogwarts. Your memories may not be buried so deep in your mind after all.'

Sirius smiled and nodded, but he didn't agree. It was a logical guess, nothing more. That said, it was good to know he'd excelled in a subject he'd been looking forward to.

There was a lot he'd been looking forward to.

'Did Father take me to Diagon Alley that Saturday, like he promised? To get my wand?'

Regulus's own wand was just visible, sticking out of his robe pocket and Sirius was eyeing it keenly. Regulus noted coolly where his brother was looking and tucked his wand further into his pocket.

'Yes, he did.'

When Regulus didn't continue, Sirius gestured impatiently.

'Well? What did I get?'

Regulus didn't answer and for a second Sirius thought he wasn't going to. Then Regulus seemed to think hard about it.

'Your wand was ebony and unicorn tail hair. About 16 inches, I believe.'

Sirius couldn't help but feel pleased with that. Traditionally, ebony was a very good wand-wood for a Black. Their father's wand had been ebony, their mother's hawthorn. The unicorn hair was a little more unusual though – most Blacks favoured dragon heartstring.

There was another pause.

'Sooo,' Sirius drawled expectedly, 'where is my wand anyway?'

He looked about hopefully, as if half expecting to see it laid on the table amongst the cutlery settings, perhaps resting between the salad and fish forks.

Regulus's lips thinned somewhat at the question.

'It was broken,' he said, quite matter-of-factly. 'When you fell – it was very badly damaged.'

There was no hiding the huge disappointment on Sirius's face at this news. Reg quickly held up a hand and hastily added, 'Don't worry! I've had it sent off to be repaired. You should have it back in a few weeks' time.'

'A few weeks?'

'Wands aren't easy to fix, Sirius. It's a very delicate process. You'll have it back as good as new, I promise. You just need to be patient.'

Sirius slumped back in his chair and pushed his food morosely around his plate. He'd spent so long looking forward to getting his own wand and now it was broken. He couldn't even remember what his wand looked like.

'Maybe I ought to just buy a new one?' he suggested, hopefully after some thought. 'I don't even remember my old wand, so if it's going to take that long maybe I –'

'I've already authorised payment for the repair,' Regulus snapped angrily, surprising Sirius into silence. For a minute.

'Shouldn't I have a wand to defend myself with?' he asked, tentatively after an awkward silence, not ready to let the matter drop.

'Defend yourself?'

Regulus looked mildly quizzical as if he couldn't quite understand.

'Against our enemies? You told me about them over lunch?'

Surely Regulus hadn't forgotten?

Regulus drew himself up tall, looking down his nose at his brother.

'Sirius – you may have the body of an adult, but you currently have the mental age of eleven … you have no recollection of any of your schooling – none of the spells you've learnt, nothing of how to duel or cast so much as a basic Shield Charm.' He leaned forward, hands together in front of his face. 'Tell me … how exactly do you intend to defend yourself?'

Sirius's face flushed angrily.

'I can learn everything again! You could teach me.'

There appeared a rather patronising smirk on Regulus's face that didn't suit him at all.

'Sirius … you are sick right now. You need to focus on getting better, not playing around with a wand you don't know how to use.'

'Maybe if I tried I would remember something? Shouldn't I be re-learning things, like you said? I am a fast learner.'

'I said no, Sirius. It would be better for you if your memories were allowed to come back naturally in their own time. If we try to force it, who knows what damage it could do? You might damage your recall entirely.'

Sirius's heart sank at this.

'But if I could just –'

'I don't want us arguing over this, Sirius,' said Regulus firmly, raising a hand to indicate his brother should stop talking. 'I'm only doing what's best for you – you understand that, don't you? I'm only following the advice that the Healer has given me.'

Sirius frowned, brow furrowed quizzically.

'Wasn't the Healer meant to come see me today?'

He was certain that was what Reg had said over lunch and he was fairly certain he hadn't slept through it …

'Oh, that,' said Reg, wiping his face with a napkin. 'Something urgent came up; he's had to reschedule. Don't worry about it, I'll sort something out.'

Sirius slumped in his seat with a huff. Another setback Reg wasn't being fair. It made no sense to Sirius to not have a wand for his own protection. Surely it wouldn't be that hard to learn a few defensive spells?

The rest of the meal passed with little conversation bar polite praising of Kreacher's culinary talents. Sirius's mind was otherwise occupied.

Without meaning to, Sirius's gaze drifted to Regulus's robe pocket where his wand lay, now out of sight.

Regulus might have said no, but Sirius wasn't willing to give up on the idea just yet.

After all, what good was a wizard without a wand?

Author's Note

As always, constructive criticism and kind words are forever appreciated