Chapter 11
When Morgana and Regulus learned that he would stay at her house for the remaining summer, they knew something was off. Their mothers had sat them down that morning and explained that it would be best that he remained at the Travers estate and under their care.
Walburga Black was not a loving woman. She screamed at, hit, and demanded perfection from her children. But Regulus was her favorite…
She smiled at them with too many teeth when she broke the news. Something in her eyes looked dead but mad. There was a smear in her lipstick as if she hadn’t waited long enough for it to dry before continuing her routine. One lock of hair had called from her head and was now tucked behind her ear.
“Oh the fun you two will have,” she said, never breaking the smile.
Dahlia looked at her, worried, a gesture not noticed by the children. “We will need to give you your own room now, of course, it isn’t proper the way you have been sleeping together. You aren’t children anymore.”
”Yes well, I’m sure you two are smart enough to figure everything out,” Walburga pinned their cheeks, an odd act. “We best be off to our Wednesday meeting now, my loves. Mrs. Shafiq will host. Ta-ta.”
”But it’s Friday,” Regulus expressed, confused.
”Is it? Well, anyways we’re taking our evening tea with Mrs. Shafiq.”
”…But it’s 7:30 in the morning,” Morgana glanced at Regulus.
Walburga didn’t seem to hear her as she apparated away. Mrs. Travers pursed her lips and sighed, “Forgive me, but I must go with her. Regulus, are home is yours more than ever now. I highly suggest you go get some of your belongings.”
With that, she apparated away leaving Morgana and Regulus with more questions than answers.
”Okay, what the fuck?”
”Hell if I know,” Regulus stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve never… I’ve seen her that way-“
”-only once before… I remember,” Morgana finished. They didn’t talk about that day much. Walburga had been completely unhinged, so much so that she’d gone so far as to draw blood from all three of them: Sirius, Regulus, and Morgana. They still sported the scars from that day across their backs as reminders of how far that woman would go. If it hadn't been for Orion walking in, there was a high chance it would've been worse. “You don’t think-“
”-that she did something like that?” Regulus was pacing now, “Yes I do.”
Morgana stumbled through the fireplace first. No matter how many times she flooded to number 12 Grimald Place, she always caught her foot on the fire guard. Regulus came through second and both froze in their tracks staring at the body on the floor.
Sirius had always been a peaceful sleeper. Sometimes, as children, they were worried that he was dead, especially considering his favorite way of coping with their mother was to sleep off her rage. The only reason the two knew where to find a pulse was because of Sirius's dead-like behavior.
Now, as he lay there, a knee-jerk reaction triggered them into action and they were all over him, checking his pulse and respiration. Everything seemed normal, but his grey eyes had a glossed-over look to them and they knew that something was definitely more than a little wrong.
"Your mother's work?" Morgana asked, throwing Sirius's arms around her to slowly start to lift him up.
Regulus went to Sirius's other side and helped her, "I think so, but I don't know what it could be."
"He doesn't seem to be physically harmed," she stated, grabbing a fist of floo.
"St. Mungos can't do anything for him but lock him in the looney ward."
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Usually."
They nodded and shuffled into the fireplace, carrying Sirius between them. "Potter Manor."
The green flame engulfed them and that gut-wrenching feeling swirled in her stomach. Similar to apparating, the places that you could've gotten off flash before your eyes with an almost dizzying effect. Morgana was never a fan of traveling magically. She preferred having either the ground or a broom beneath her feet, but after years of going back and forth between houses, events, etc. she had grown used to it. That didn't matter now though. There were far more important things.
Regulus and Morgana managed to keep from stumbling too violently as their bodies lurched to a halt and they arrived at the Potter household.
The Potter's residence was built with the idea of modern class and perfection. It didn't at all look like the home of someone like James Potter who was often regarded as a messy and disorganized individual with little on his mind but Quidditch, school, and his friends. However, that would be discrediting the extreme success of his father, Fleamont Potter, an amazing potion master who created well-renowned solutions such as Skelegrown and Sleekeazy's hair formula, and his mother Euphemia Potter, who aired from a long prestigious line of wizards and after her mother, Arabella, The Countess of London, died of dragon pox in January 1900, lived a life of privilege with her father, the Earl of London. Her father remarried the Dowager Countess of Alsager. In 1935, her father passed away and though the title of Earl of London passed to a distant cousin, per his will, the family fortune and estate passed to Euphemia. Upon the passing of Fleamont's mother and father, the pair were named the Earl and Countess of Stinchcombe, the Potter's vast estates.
The bloodlines which the Potters aired from were enough to make those like Walburga Black and Dahlia Travers blush. Though the Blacks and Travers though were descendants of great magical bloodlines, their estates and titles had never been so great as to last through the twentieth century. The Potters and Briathewaites had seated themselves perfectly in muggle history to hold a place of power not only in the wizarding world but in the muggle one as well while still keeping magical bloodlines pure. It was incredibly impressive by their mothers' standards and was what allowed Sirius to get away with being friends with the Potter boy till his third year.
However, as the Potter family looked stunned at the soot-covered teenagers emerging from their fireplace, no one cared about titles. No long-standing familial relations could ever find means to warrant value as Euphemia and Fleamont jumped from the couch to assist Sirius. Two sides of wizarding pureblood history came together for Sirius that day.
The world seemed to slow as Morgana caught James mid-air from diving in after Regulus back to No. 12 Grimald Place and the two adults diagnosed Sirius. Morgana felt the tears slip from her eyes as the weight of Sirius's unresponsiveness sunk in and the anger, the noise, and the intensity of everything that she realized they were wrapped in became too much.
"The Cruciatus Curse," Fleamont exclaimed as Regulus came back through the fireplace with Sirius's things. He dropped the bags and turned to Morgana.
They locked eyes and a sort of understanding crossed them as it often did. Her ears seemed to be stuffed with cotton as Regulus explained best he could to the adult Potters what they knew, and Morgana pleaded with James not to go through the fireplace.
"Our mother is prone to fits of rage..." Regulus whispered to them.
"James, please don't," Morgana could feel herself beginning to sob almost, hardly able to choke out words. "You don't understand please don't. She'll kill you. Please, Sirius needs you."
James seemed to recognize those last words and turned, whipping the tears of rage from his own eyes as he turned toward his friend laying on the kitchen table. It was at that moment that another pair of footsteps came tumbling down from the upstairs apartments. Remus Lupin, scar covered as ever and still in his pj's came running asking about the ruckus. Upon seeing Sirius and then James, he ran over and removed James from Morgana's care.
"Thank you," was all he said as he gently lead James away.
Regulus finished talking to the Potters before grabbing Morgana's hand and leading her back to the fireplace. Before they knew it, they were sitting on the floor of the library, covered in more soot than ever. Their arms and legs were wrapped around each other, pulling each other as close as possible, and sobbing.
Morgana didn't like crying. Her mother said crying was a weakness and she agreed. It made her eyes and lungs hurt and her nose run. Her mascara ran and since she wasn't constantly focused on tucking her hair behind her ears or back into a bun or ponytail, it would start to fly all over and she looked like a mess.
Regulus didn't like crying either but he was used to letting the tears fall when they needed to. His mother liked to see people's pain and having that fulfilled often led her to stop her advances. His eyes got so puffy it was almost unreal and his cheeks got so hot he thought he might spontaneously combust. Crying was almost a defense mechanism for him so even if it wasn't much, he did it often.
They had never cried together, oddly enough...