The sound of the newspaper folding echoed through the Potters’ kitchen. Sirius frowned, pushing his coffee cup aside and stretching out the Prophet with irritation. He couldn’t understand why James and his parents seemed so tense that morning.
“What the hell is wrong with you lot?” he asked, rubbing his still-sleepy eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
James opened his mouth, but in the end, it was Fleamont who slid the newspaper towards him. “Son, I think you need to read this.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, grabbed the Prophet, and unrolled it with a sigh. His gaze immediately fell on the bold headline:
SCANDAL IN THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK: WALBURGA AND ORION BLACK IMPRISONED AFTER HORRIFIC ATTACK ON YOUNGEST SON
He felt the blood freeze in his veins. Frowning, he quickly scanned the article.
“Reliable sources from St Mungo’s have confirmed that Regulus Black, barely fifteen years old, was admitted in critical condition two nights ago. The family’s house-elf, Kreacher, appeared at the hospital with the young wizard, desperately explaining the situation. Healers state that the boy suffered severe blood loss and displayed alarming traces of the Cruciatus Curse, inflicted repeatedly. It is believed that, had he arrived mere minutes later, he would not have survived.
Walburga and Orion Black were arrested the same night following a preliminary investigation that led authorities to their residence at Grimmauld Place. Regulus’s condition remains uncertain, and healers are unsure whether he will regain consciousness or what the long-term consequences of the attack may be.”
The newspaper trembled in his hands.
“No,” he muttered. “This… This has to be exaggerated, the Prophet always dramatises.”
“Sirius…” Effie Potter began, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s not an exaggeration.”
Sirius clenched his jaw and threw the paper onto the table. “I don’t care,” he said harshly. “He chose to stay with them. Decided his blood family was worth more than me. Well, now he can live with the consequences.”
The silence in the room became suffocating. No one dared to speak until Fleamont cleared his throat.
“The authorities have requested your testimony, Sirius. As someone who lived with the Blacks, you could assist in the investigation.”
Sirius scoffed. “And why the hell would I want to help my idiot bastard of a brother? He chose to stay, let him deal with it on his own.”
Effie Potter sighed. “Oh, Sirius, son…”
“No, Mum,” James cut in, his voice unusually serious. “Let me talk to him.”
Sirius turned to face his best friend. “Don’t start lecturing me, Prongs.”
“It’s not a lecture, Pads. It’s something you need to know.” James took a deep breath before saying, “You didn’t come here on your own.”
Sirius blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Effie glanced at her husband hesitantly, but in the end, she nodded. “Regulus brought you.”
Sirius felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “That’s a lie.”
“It isn’t,” Effie said quietly. “He left you at our doorstep, in my arms. And he didn’t leave until I promised him you’d be safe.”
“Then why the hell did you let him go?” Sirius shot to his feet, shoving the chair back violently. “Why didn’t you make him stay?”
Effie shook her head, her expression filled with sorrow. “Because he begged me, Sirius. He pleaded with me not to tell you, because he knew how you’d react.”
Rage boiled in his chest. “Then why didn’t he write to me? Why didn’t he say anything? I ignored him because he ignored me first!”
James folded his arms. “Well, Pads, the first thing you called him after that summer was ‘bloody snake’ and shouted that he was just like them. Can’t imagine that made him feel particularly encouraged to reach out, mate. I love you, but you didn’t exactly help the situation.”
James’s words hit Sirius like a weight dropping onto his chest. He staggered, his breathing uneven. He remembered that conversation as if it were yesterday—the fury, the resentment, the frustration of seeing his brother still trapped under their parents’ influence. He hadn’t stopped to think about what Regulus had felt, what he had endured.
And now, perhaps, he never would.
“He’s in St Mungo’s,” Sirius murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “They don’t know if he’ll wake up?”
Effie shook her head. “The healers haven’t given any clear answers. But Kreacher hasn’t left his side since bringing him in.”
The elf.
Sirius ran a trembling hand down his face. Kreacher, Regulus’s devoted house-elf, had saved him. Not because it was his duty, but because he loved his young master more than his own parents ever had.
It was too much. His brother had been minutes away from death. Minutes. And he… he had discarded him without a second thought. He felt sick.
James placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can still go, Pads. You can still do something.”
Sirius swallowed hard. He could cling to his pride. He could stay in this house, pretending none of this was real.
Or he could stand up and face the truth of what his brother had suffered.
“Take me to St Mungo’s.”