He was back on Platform 9 for the first time in almost a full year, and all excitement he had felt this morning about his brother coming back drained out of him the moment he set foot on the platform. Terror replaced it, creeping into every inch of his body and keeping him from taking another step.
"Are you all right?" Mother asked and he stiffened at her touch.
He meant to shake his head – he was far from all right – but his neck refused to move.
"Please..." Mother nudged his frozen body but he wouldn't budge. He needed to get away from here. He needed to get back to safety. He needed to go home, where everything was OK.
He couldn't just be here where the Aurors were around every corner, ready to snatch you and take you with them, ready to drug you until you spill your deepest secrets.
"Come on, Regulus..." Mother didn't understand. She didn't understand how he feared the flashes of red and green, how they still kept him from sleeping. She'd never understand.
Father pulled on his arm, roughly, and he fell forwards. He caught himself with his feet and it was as if a spell had been broken—his muscles unclenched for long enough that he could take another step. Mother gently nudged him again and he took a few more steps until he reached the middle of the platform.
He stood between his parents, holding both their hands for added safety. If anything were to happen, he wouldn't be alone. Mother and Father would save him.
And yet... he wished Bellatrix had come with them.
The Hogwarts Express pulled into the platform and he stayed close to his parents, whilst the crowd around them seemed to erupt in chaos, with both children and adults running up to the train.
The doors opened and the students poured out. Laughter and cheers filled the air as he hid behind his father's cloak, still clutching both his parents' hands.
It took forever. The chaos quieted down and he saw many happy families leaving the platform, but they still hadn't seen any sign of Sirius.
Had he been taken? The Aurors had got to him faster than they did. They were too late. Everything was too late. They had to go home, ask Bella to go after them—she could do it, he knew she could. She was strong, she was powerful. She saved people.
A bespectacled boy with messy black hair walked over to them. Behind him were man and woman he could only assume were his parents. The woman held onto a second boy, a boy Regulus knew all too well.
These strangers had captured Sirius, and he didn't seem himself—he fidgeted and kept his eyes on the ground. These strangers hurt him to the point he was a nervous wreck and they were smiling.
Oh, if only he had a wand (and maybe some more courage). He'd make sure they never did anything as bad as this ever again. Those bastards!
"Fleamont," Father gave the man a curt nod.
"Orion," he nodded back in acknowledgment.
"Come here, Sirius," Mother said, beckoning him to come with her free hand.
The woman kept a firm grip on Sirius, preventing him from walking. "We'd love for Sirius to stay the holidays."
"Absolutely not," said Mother sternly. "Sirius, come."
"He don't want to come, does he?" Fleamont said.
Sirius didn't say anything, and kept his eyes focused on the ground. Couldn't they just hex these people, steal back Sirius, make a run for it away from these people?
Father reached for his wand with his free hand, whilst he glared at Fleamont. Mother glared at the woman.
"Kept Sirius bloody locked up, you hag-"
Sirius ducked free from the woman's grip and jumped the boy. "James!"
Both Father and Mother had their wands pointed at the parents, and they'd let go of him. He took a few steps back and looked around—the platform was all but deserted.
Sirius and the boy he'd called James lay wrestling on the ground.
"Had tea with the Crouches a week agone, didnus?" Fleamont said, glancing at his wife.
The woman nodded. "I recommend you lower those wands. We have a dinner with them next week—might let something slip."
"You have nothing on us."
"Want to find out?"
A chill ran down Regulus' spine as tense silence washed over them. His brother and James had stopped wrestling; they, too, were staring at the adults before them.
Regulus' heart hammered in his chest as the seconds ticked by, it seemed to last an eternity before Father lowered his wand and told Mother to do the same.
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 in a civilised matter."
"There's no need for a discussion," Father said. "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."
"Exactly," the woman said. "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, and Regulus wanted to say something, 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, and 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," he said, glaring at James' unruly hair, "and to be presentable."
"Sirius," Mother said, gesturing for him to join them. "Come here. Maybe you can visit later."
Sirius didn't move.
Mother took a couple steps in his direction, prompting Fleamont and his wife to reach for their wands. "One wrong move," the woman threatened.
Father glared at Sirius. "Get over here. Now."
Sirius looked at 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."
Mother grabbed his arm and pulled him forwards, more into view. "Little Reggie would want you home, wouldn't you?"
"I would..."
Sirius stepped forwards. "For Reg. Not you lot."
As soon as they Apparated to their hallway back home, all hell broke loose.
Father had Apparated with Sirius and the trunk. He pushed the trunk up against the wall and it slammed into one of the paintings, which fell down with a shriek and a thud.
Father didn't pay attention to it—he was muttering a string of curses under his breath, clearly aimed at Fleamont and his wife.
Mother held him in a tight grip but if she hadn't, Regulus would've tried to fix it. Put back the portrait, apologise. Go over to Sirius who stood cowering against the wall in a way that reminded him much of his aunt Druella a few months ago. He'd never noticed just how scared his brother could be.
But neither Father nor Mother seemed to notice much about the situation, although Mother's ever-tightening grip was starting to hurt, and he wondered if she did it out of anger at him, or his brother, or those people who kidnapped Sirius.
He looked up at her. Her face was twisted red with rage and embarrassment. It wasn't long before she found her voice again. "I don't know what's got into you, but it stops today!"
Sirius slowly backed away, towards the stairs. Father was still muttering to himself, seemingly unaware of Mother's rage—he wasn't, for Mother was still holding onto his arm as she moved closer to Sirius, and every time he tried to free himself, her grip tightened.
"Help! Dad—help!"
Father sped towards Sirius, and Mother quickly raised her wand 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 voice was calm and it silenced Mother for a second, then 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. His arm still throbbed from where she'd held him.
"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 the wand she held in her hand.
"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 just say?!"
Father wrestled her for her wand, still trying to keep a hold of her. He spoke calmly, but his voice was cold. "Boys learn from their mothers, dearest. 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, 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.
He collapsed against the back of a brick wall belonging to one of the house, and 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.
Why was this happening? Why was his entire life falling apart? Ever since September—no, before then, ever since Bella went looking for that man... everything had been fine until then. Why couldn't things just be fine again? Why couldn't Mother and Father be good to each other, be good to everyone? Why did Sirius have to be like this?
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.
The world wasn't fair, and he wanted nothing to do with it. He wished he could go back in time to a moment where everything was fine and he was happy and his biggest problem was Cissy not coming home for Christmas. Or maybe even before that, just playing with his brother, no concerns whatsoever... or maybe before that, though he didn't remember much about his first few years of life he was sure they were better than the state of life nowadays.
"Regulus?"
Hearing his name made him look up through his tears. He recognised that face.
"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 just get you home, all right? Come on."
She put her arm around him when they passed some funny looking Muggles. He kept his head down and tried his best to ignore them. Aunt Lucretia guided him through the streets as he calmed down.
It was nearly all dark when they reached the front steps of his house. Aunt Lucretia knocked on the door a couple times, her hand still resting on his shoulder as they waited for it to open.
"Why are 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 opened. Father stepped out and pointed his wand straight at Regulus.
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, extending his free hand for Regulus to take.
He grabbed it and went to move forwards, but Aunt Lucretia held him back. His heart hammered in his chest as he felt both of them pull on him, both of them trying to get him to go one way or another. He just wanted to go home. He was tired and he was so close to home. Why wouldn't Aunt Lucretia just let him go home...
"Luca, let him go." Father stepped closer and pulled Regulus free with both hands. He fell towards him as Aunt Lucretia's fingers lost their grip.
"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.
He 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?
When he still didn't move, Father shoved him back with his free hand. He still had his wand still pointed at Aunt Lucretia as Regulus his behind the wall, peering around the corner through the open door to see what would happen.
"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? At night? She had warned him about being out there at night just moments before. Oh God, she could die!
Father pushed him farther 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 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, all the emotions coming back and hitting him at once. He hated them, he hated them all; he hated his brother for leaving him and for wanting to stay 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. He 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 OK?" Sirius asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 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 OK.
"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 that Fleamont and his wife and son... 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. If 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.