The Last Supper
Regulus has never been so scared in his whole eleven years of living. Of course Walburga would find them. Regulus knew she would, she always does, when Sirius and Regulus do something wrong, they have to be punished. So they get punished.
See, the thing about Walburga Black is that she is a severe woman, in every meaning of the word. Severe in her punishments, her parenthood, her glares, her grudges, everything.
So, Regulus is scared, and rightfully so. Because Walburga Black is scary.
Effie looks over at Sirius and Regulus, a pitying look in her eyes that Regulus has never seen before. He hates it. He hates her pity.
”Did you boys tell your mother that you were staying here for Christmas?” Effie asks gently. They both remain silent. That’s just how they are around their mother. Regulus more than Sirius.
”Oh, no, my dears.” Effie says softly. “If your mother wants you home, we have to send you home.” She explains. Regulus knows it’s not warranted, but at the moment, he really, really hates Euphemia Potter.
“No, mum! Don’t send them back! They hate it there!” James exclaims. Regulus is grateful for it, but it won’t work. Once his mother has made up her mind, there’s nothing changing her mind or stopping her from getting whatever she wants.
“It’s fine, James.” Sirius murmurs, giving James a reassuring smile, which is obviously fake. But no one mentions it.
Regulus and Sirius stand up, heading for the doorway just in time for Kreacher to come down the hall, heading towards the brother’s rooms. Well, they’re going home. They didn’t even get a whole day.
“Sirius, Regulus!” Walburga exclaims, putting on her regular facade of loving them, being concerned for them. When she, Regulus, and Sirius all know that her sons will be punished later. “I was so worried!-”
“We’re not going.” Sirius interjects, stubborn as always. It’s going to get him in trouble one day. Today is that day.
“Yes, you are.” Walburga counters, her concerned mother act fading.
”We’re not leaving, you can’t make us.” Sirius announces.
“I am your mother, you will do as I say.” Walburga says coldly.
“No-“ Sirius starts, but Walburga is quicker.
“Silencio!” Walburga says with a wave of her wand.
Sirius abruptly stops talking, his voice just stopping. Lodged on his throat.
“Walburga! He is just a child!” Effie exclaims, wrapping Sirius in a protective embrace.
“He is my son, he will be coming with me.” Walburga informs Effie. Kreacher comes back with their trunks. “Come along Sirius, Regulus.”
Sirius stays. Regulus would move if his legs would let him. Regulus wants to go with their mother, if only to lessen the punishment he will receive. But he finds he can’t move. He is frozen.
“Sirius, Regulus, come.” Walburga orders. Sirius starts moving, Regulus stays put. He still can’t move.
“Regulus!” Walburga calls, much more harshly. Regulus starts walking. His movements are stiff, like someone who hasn’t moved in years is suddenly sprinting.
When they get home they are met with an angry Orion Black. That’s never good. Walburga may be the physical abuser but Orion sure has a way with his words. He is always calm, collected, calculating. Even when his words cut like a razor.
After their lecture, Walburga pulls out her wand. Sirius, being who he is, tries to take the blame. He made Regulus come with him, Regulus didn’t want to go, Sirius convinced Regulus, Regulus is the perfect son. But they both went anyway, they both must face the same consequences.
The brothers go to bed with bleeding and scabbing calves. They are to bandage each other up. Clean each other's wounds. Be the ones to comfort each other. The way a parent should. But Blacks are never very good parents.
The brothers are to go to breakfast the next morning, their legs sore and still not fully healed. They are to act like nothing happened. That’s how it is in this house. Endure, never complain, never mention this to anyone.
The brothers are to act as if their parents love them. They are to act like they love their parents too. They are to act like they don’t hate their parents. They are to act perfect.
“Sirius, sit up straight.” Walburga says coldly at breakfast. Sirius sits up straight, but his shoulders are sagging slightly. His own little act of rebellion, Regulus assumes. Regulus feels no need to rebel at the moment. Regulus thinks that he should behave. Does Sirius not remember the punishment they got last night?
Of course he does. Sirius never forgets. Regulus thinks that Sirius has a special compartment of his brain that is labeled mother’s punishments that he takes out every once in a while to do, well, Regulus doesn’t know what.
What Regulus knows, right now, is that he wishes he could just go upstairs and lay in bed and write his poetry. He can’t though. No reason to dwell on it. So, Regulus just eats his breakfast. He keeps his back straight, he eats in small, polite bites, and he waits.
After breakfast, Regulus heads to the library. When he’s home he usually stays in the library for most of the time. Reading or writing. Whatever suits his mood. Today it is writing. He still needs to write Pandora’s poem and his very polite letters to Barty and Evan.
He starts with Barty and Evan’s letters. They are beautiful. Regulus used his good parchment and perfect penmanship. I request that you proceed to engage in sexual intercourse with Barty. Happy Christmas. Regulus then writes his letter for Barty, rolls the letters up and ties them with beautiful black ribbons. Regulus decides to wait to send them so they will actually arrive on Christmas, since he knows that Evan and Barty will open them right when they get them.
Regulus starts on Pandora’s poem. What could he write for Pandora? Could he write about Nargles? No, Regulus doesn’t quite know what they are. He knows that Pandora is obsessed with them, but that’s about it.
Sirius barges into the library, with all his usual dramatics. Regulus rolls his eyes.
“Regulus, we must do something!” Sirius announces dramatically.
“Uh huh.” Regulus hums distractedly, tapping his pen on the table he is working at.
“What’re you doing?” Sirius asks.
“Writing for Pandora.” Regulus murmurs. He’s not really in the mood for Sirius’ dramatics today.
“Boring.” Sirius says, flopping onto the couch closest to Regulus. Walburga would be yelling at Sirius to have some decorum! But Walburga isn’t here at the moment, is she?
“What do you want to do?” Regulus asks.
“I dunno.” Sirius groans. “Something fun, not whatever you find fun about writing and reading.” Sirius says.
“Reading and writing is fun.” Regulus counters.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Sirius replies.
Regulus rolls his eyes. Sirius is ridiculous.
“So, what can we do?” Sirius asks.
“You can read?” Regulus suggests.
“Nope.” Sirius announces.
This is going to be a long Christmas break.
~*~
Sirius has always hated Christmas eve. He has always hated the dinner party his family hosts. But he always has to attend.
Sirius and Regulus spend the day hiding from Kreacher as long as they can, running around the manor and finding places the house elf can’t find them. When Kreacher does find them they get changed and complain about how uncomfortable the dress robes are.
By the time the guests start arriving Sirius and Regulus are standing by the door, greeting everyone. Sirius whispers snide comments to Regulus about the hat their great aunt has chosen to wear. And it's… a choice, for sure. Sirius can see Regulus doing that half smile thing he does when he’s trying not to grin.
After all the guests arrive they sit at the dining table. The table is a rich mahogany and long enough to fit everyone at the party, which is impressive. Sirius is sitting next to Regulus, both of them listening to the conversations their cousins are having. Bellatrix is showing her wedding ring to Narcissa for the umpteenth time like Bellatrix didn’t get married months ago.
“So, Regulus, about your sorting,” their Uncle Cygnus asks. Sirius can feel Regulus tensing up beside him.
“Yes?” Regulus answers.
“Two Gryffindors in two years. Well, you can imagine how surprised we were.” Cygnus states. His wife, Druella, nods beside him. “Now, we would have expected this from Sirius. But you? Well, we were kerfuffled.”
“Yes, well I was surprised as well.” Regulus responds stiffly. Sirius glares at Cygnus.
“Oh, yes, Regulus. I thought you would be in Slytherin, at least.” Bellatrix says.
Regulus looks down at his plate. “I thought so too.” he mumbles.
“Please speak up, dear cousin. I could not understand a word you said.” Bellatrix taunts.
“I thought so too.” Regulus says, only slightly louder.
“A little louder.” Bellatrix continues.
“Leave him alone, Bella!” Sirius says.
“Aw, you’re defending little Reggie.” Bellatrix coos.
“Shut up!” Sirius exclaims. Bellatrix sneers at him.
“Why you-” Bellatrix starts.
“That’s enough!” Bellows Orion. His voice carries around the room. The room goes silent. “Sirius, up to your room.” Orion says in a deathly calm tone.
Sirius glares at Bellatrix’s smug smile one last time and goes up to his room. He sits there for a while until his mother walks into the room. Her wand drawn. Oh no, not again.
“Why would you say that to your cousin, Sirius?” Walburga asks. Sirius looks down at his lap.
“I don’t know.” he mumbles.
“Of course you do. Why?” Walburga asks, twirling her wand around on her long, thin fingers. Sirius doesn’t answer. “Silencio.” Walburga says with a flick of her wand. Sirius can feel his voice falling out of his throat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, a sticky feeling in his throat, like grease sliding down it. He knows what’s coming next.
Walburga makes him turn around and raises her wand and makes a slashing motion. Sirius feels it on his calf. A slicing sensation. His muscles tense involuntarily. When Walburga raises her wand and slashes again it hurts. It really bloody hurts.
Sirius can feel the warm sticky sensation of blood trickling down his legs. His mother slashes again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And again.
And again.