Chapter 5
Narcissa couldn’t have chosen a better day for her wedding. The sky was a cloudless blue, the trees rustled with only the slightest of breezes, and the air lacked any of the humidity that usually accompanied such heat.
Occasionally, she could be seen flitting from guest to guest, accepting congratulations with grace and accepting gifts with a look of faux surprise. Regulus kept an eye on her, waiting for his chance to approach and deliver his own well wishes.
From a distance, he marvelled at the ease that she talked with people. Never once did her sweet smile falter, even as distant family members made impertinent comments; ‘Are you pregnant, dear?’, he had heard one woman ask. Narcissa had just shook her head, smile still in place; polite though Regulus could see she was seething inside.
Round and round she went, doing laps of the garden as more and more people commanded her attention. Over in the corner, Regulus could see Lucius. It seemed he had chosen to catch up with his friends rather than join his newly wedded wife.
Eventually, Narcissa came to stop in front of him. He liked to think the smile she sported was more genuine than her others.
“Regulus, I’m so glad you could make it,” she said and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Once, she would’ve hugged him in greeting, but those days were over.
“It was a beautiful wedding,” Regulus congratulated her.
“Yes, it was rather,” she agreed, smiling faintly as she looked out at the guests spread out across her lawn. “I had white roses planted especially,” she explained, “White peacocks brought in just for today too, though I think I’d like them to stay.”
“You should keep them.” He looked over at the nearest one. It was an elegant bird, almost statue-like as it perched on a marble bird table, peering at the guests with black, beady eyes, occasionally fluffing up its feathers. It looked as though it belonged there.
“They’re noisy though, far more pleasant with a silencing charm on them,” she stated. That was when he noticed it open its mouth and heard not a single sound come out. He didn’t comment on it, just turned back to face her.
“Where are your parents, your brother too? I did invite him, didn't I?” Narcissa asked, scanning the grounds.
Regulus didn’t bother looking, he knew he wouldn’t find them. Sirius wasn’t ever very good at knowing that there was a time and place not to act out. Regulus wasn’t sure exactly what had happened but he had caught sight of Rabastan Lestrange with his wand out and his hair a bright, Gryffindor red. Sirius had been laughing even as their mother dragged him away, their father following behind, into Malfoy Manor somewhere.
Luckily, he hadn’t drawn that much attention. At the same moment, a collection of house elves had come out carrying the wedding cake. Evidently, Narcissa’s attention had also been on this rather than his brother.
“You did,” he assured her, “though, it may have been wiser not to,” he added cautiously.
“At my wedding? Really?” she asked sharply, understanding immediately and her pleasant persona falling away in an instant.
Narcissa had never really liked Sirius, Regulus knew. Not since he had taken her dresses and tied them together to use as a makeshift rope to get out of his window when he was nine. What made it worse was it wasn’t even necessary; he was free to leave through the front door. Ever since then, Narcissa had made sure to find fault with whatever he did.
Regulus watched as she took a deep breath.
“How was Hogwarts? You’ve grown since I last saw you,” she said, a smile back on her face and all previous vexation gone.
“It was good. Though, you only saw me three months ago and I’ve not grown since then.”
“You’ll always be seven in my mind, Regulus,” she teased. He huffed for effect and her smile widened.
“How has living at Malfoy Manor been?” he asked.
“Quiet,” she said, eyes shifting to the manor slightly, “Lucius is a good man, he will be a good husband, but he is not a friend,” she elaborated. Though she didn’t say the word itself, he knew she was telling him she was lonely.
It must have been hard, Regulus figured, to go from a childhood surrounded by two outgoing sisters to living with just Lucius for company in a house as grand as theirs.
Of course, she had been alone with her parents for quite a while, what with Andromeda’s disownment and Bellatrix’s marriage to Rudolfus. But, Regulus supposed the house had held memories loud enough to fill the space where they had once been. Malfoy Manor had no such history.
“Could I visit you over summer?” he asked, phrasing it as a request rather than an offer to avoid rejection due to her pride. He knew her too well, often he thought them more similar to each other than to their own siblings.
“It would be lovely to have you,” she said, “Truly come whenever you’d like, you’re always welcome. I’m sure Lucius would also like to talk with you about a few things.”
“What things?” he asked, curious. Lucius had only ever talked with him about school before; bland, stilted conversations reflecting how little they had in common.
“I’m not sure I should be telling you just yet; I only know from overheard conversations,” she eluded. When she noticed his apprehensive look, she smiled warmly, “You will be told soon enough, I’m sure. A change is coming, a better world will be created, and we will all be part of it.”
Regulus’ father always spoke of a change. The mention would always follow some complaint about muggles and them mixing with the wizarding world. Whenever he mentioned it, he would smirk knowingly and sometimes, during dinner parties, Regulus watched as others mirrored him.
It sent a thrill through him. Though he wasn’t a lover of change, he knew this one was necessary.
There was always going to come a time when wizards would regain what they allowed themselves to lose; the freedom of life without the statute of secrecy, the comfort of not being forced to live amongst muggles, and the strength of their magic undiluted by those of weaker lineage.
“I look forward to it,” he said, and he really was. He knew now he would spend his nights speculating when he’d been told. This was the kind of knowledge that would never be granted to Sirius.
“Aren’t we all,” Narcissa agreed.
Sirius wouldn’t be, Regulus knew. Maybe one day, when the change arrived, Sirius would come to his senses. He would have to; Regulus assumed at the end of it all the wizarding world would be split. On one side would be those who accepted change, the other would be those who refused it. Sirius would choose the winning side.
“Here your parents come,” Narcissa whispered in warning. When he looked back at her after turning and spotting his parents, any genuine emotion on her face had vanished, replaced by serene indifference.
Regulus turned again to face his parents as they headed their way. Both had a look of annoyance on their faces, but also of satisfaction. Regulus tried not to think about what that must have meant.
“Narcissa, dear, you look lovely,” his mother said as she came to stop beside him, hand coming up to grip his shoulder. Though her words were said to sound like a complement, her permanent tone of disgust couldn’t quite channel any authenticity.
“Thank you, Aunt Walburga,” Narcissa replied pleasantly, “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Where is your husband?” his mother asked, pointedly. “It is a disgrace for him to leave your side.”
“He is talking with his friends at the ministry,” Narcissa replied, voice ever calm. “Last week he moved departments but it’s still important to maintain connections. This was the perfect opportunity.”
Regulus couldn’t tell whether any of what she said was true or not, and he could tell by his mother’s scrutinising gaze that she couldn’t either.
“Quite right,” his father spoke up. Orion had never been a man of many words, preferring to stay on the sidelines adding comments only when necessary. He had always been a strong supporter of Lucius, so it was no surprise he voiced it now.
His mother’s sharp eyes briefly darted to him in irritation. Never had she quite got used to people opposing what she said.
“Will you be staying for the dancing?” Narcissa asked, obviously knowing well that they wouldn’t. Sirius and Regulus had had dancing lessons in their youth, but that was only because their parents would deem it more embarrassing for them to not be able to dance than dance at all, though it was close.
“No,” his mother said, predictably, “you enjoy it, the joys of marriage are few and fleeting.”
Regulus watched his father scowl just as his mother’s expression turned triumphant. Orion, however, said not a word in protest. Perhaps he deemed it a losing battle; his wife would forever be right.
“I will,” Narcissa said with a nod.
“You’d better hope for a boy,” his father cut in, “with your family’s history of girls, it would be a shame if you repeated it.”
Regulus found it a strange comment to make since they shared the same blood. Narcissa was just as likely to bear two boys like both his parents had done as she was to bear three girls like her own.
“Quite,” his mother agreed, sniffing as she looked down at Narcissa’s stomach, as though analysing the child which hadn’t yet been conceived.
“There is little I can do,” Narcissa said firmly, raising her chin defiantly. Regulus stared at her; he had very few times heard protest come from her directed at their family. “The child will be loved whatever happens and their gender will not change that. The child will also not be a Black, so excuse me if I remind you that it is none of your business.” Her voice was colder than he had ever heard it.
Orion and Walburga stood staring at her. If Blacks gawked, they would be.
“I must return to the reception, I have talked with you long enough. Thank you again for coming, Aunt and Uncle. And Regulus, I hope to see you in a few weeks time, write to me.”
Narcissa turned, white dress flowing behind her as she went. Regulus could see the jewels in her hair, catching the light and looking like silver raindrops. Lucius came to join her, snaking an arm around her waist and leading her further into the crowd of guests.
“Come, Regulus,” his mother’s hand tightened on his shoulder, her voice sharp in his ear, “I don’t like to leave your brother too long in the house alone.”
“I said that was a mistake,” his father grunted as he followed them both as they walked away from the wedding reception. If not for Sirius, perhaps they could have stayed a little while longer. They hadn’t even tried the wedding cake.
Music began to sound and Regulus couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and smile at the sight of Lucius and Narcissa dancing.
-
Sirius was confined to his room. The second they had arrived back at Grimmauld Place, his mother had made sure he knew it.
“You are not to see him. He is to learn his lesson,” was her final declaration as she disappeared into the depths of the house. Regulus often wondered where she went and what she did to pass the time.
His father stood beside him for a second longer before starting towards his study. Regulus wanted to speak with him; to talk about the change that was yet to be revealed to him, The House that had yet to stop plaguing him, and what he did in that study all day, every day. Instead, he watched the door open and close behind him.
The house was eerily silent once again.
It was later, when the sun had set and he was sure his parents were listening out for disobedience that he crept across to Sirius’ room and gently opened the door. Sirius was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, staring at his wall in raging silence.
Even when Regulus clicked the door behind him, he didn’t even look over. If Regulus looked closely, he could see a spattering of dried blood on his brother’s hand.
“Hey, you alright?” Regulus asked quietly, walking over to stand beside his brother, looking down at him in concern.
Sirius looked up, eyes looking strangely blank. He looked exhausted, worn out.
Regulus crouched down so they were eye to eye. “What’s the matter?”
When Sirius didn’t answer, Regulus checked him over with his eyes. There was blood on his socks too and, when Regulus hesitantly pulled up his brother's trouser leg, he noticed there was dried blood on his ankles. There were cuts too. They weren’t bleeding anymore, just scabbed over.
Regulus looked up at Sirius who was watching him. “Wait here,” Regulus whispered, standing again and rushing silently back to his room to collect the box from the bottom of his wardrobe.
When he returned, Sirius still hadn’t moved. It was rare for their parents to actually harm Sirius physically. Usually, shouting and taking his things away was the extent of it. There were a few times though, in the past, that it had happened. That was why he kept the box of healing supplies.
There was nothing magical about them. To get them was the only time Regulus had ever ventured into the muggle world. It had taken a while to find the right shop, more time again to find the right things, but in the end he had grabbed bandages, plasters and wipes and hoped it was enough. On his way out, he had left five galleons from his mother’s purse on the counter.
Now, he put them to use. As he sat there and worked, he could feel Sirius’ eyes still on him, tracking his every move.
“How was the rest of the wedding?” Sirius asked in a hoarse voice.
“Short,” Regulus remarked, then winced slightly at the allegation in his words. “Narcissa enjoyed it, she’s well. She wanted to say hello,” he amended, making up the last bit since Narcissa had asked where Sirius was.
“That’s nice.”
They went back to silence. Regulus finished up quickly and sat back on the wooden floor opposite Sirius.
“What happened?” Regulus asked, trying his best not to sound too demanding. He knew how much Sirius hated being told to do things.
Sirius shrugged. “Nothing to worry about.”
It obviously was, but Regulus hadn’t really wanted the answer anyway, so he didn’t ask again. Instead they sat there in the light of the moon, not a word spoken between them. Sirius looked out the window intently and Regulus wondered a few times whether he knew he was still there.
When he did get up to leave, Sirius’ eyes still didn’t stray from the full moon outside.
-
The day his parents requested his presence, there was a summer storm on the way. He could tell by the way the world outside seemed to be holding its breath. There was an eerie stillness that descended with the grey, a dampness in the air that told them all they needed to know.
Regulus was waiting for it. Sat in the doorway of the back door he looked out at the garden, waiting for the first falling of rain. It was here that Kreacher found him and told him of his parent’s wishes.
Standing, he took one last look outside before he shut the door. As he wound through the house to meet his parents in the drawing room, he met Sirius. They both stopped before they passed each other, curious but neither wanting to ask the first question.
“Where are you going?” Sirius asked finally, since Regulus had been the first to ask last time.
“Mother and father want me,” Regulus said, truthfully.
Sirius furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, seemingly more interested in an instant.
“Why would they want to see you?” he asked, putting a little too much emphasis on the ‘you’ for Regulus’ liking. Surely it shouldn’t be so outlandish that his parents wanted to speak with him. Unfortunately, it was.
“Don't know,” Regulus lied. There was a hope and excitement in him that he didn’t want to feed until his suspicion had been confirmed. “Where are you going?” Regulus asked in return.
Sirius reached into his jacket pocket and revealed a handful of letters. “Sending these off before mother and father notice,” he said, “enjoy your chat.”
They both passed each other, going their opposite directions. Sirius went to go find the family owl who liked to hide behind jars and in the cupboards in the kitchen, and Regulus walked steadily to the drawing room.
He knocked when he reached the door and made sure to wait for a response before pushing open the door. Inside, his father sat in the armchair before the tapestry with his mother hovering over his shoulder.
“Regulus,” his mother greeted, “take a seat.”
So he walked forward and took a seat in the chair opposite his father. There was a coffee table between them, the only thing separating them.
“There is something we wish to discuss with you,” his father started, lifting a glass of amber liquid to his mouth and taking a sip. “It’s concerning the future.”
Regulus nodded diligently. So he had been right.
“There is a man, a powerful man, with ideals that align with our own. When the time comes, our family will support him. One day, you will meet him and you will pledge your allegiance. That time is soon.” His father paused, watching Regulus for any objection.
When none came, he continued. “You will be the representative for our family during this change. That means you will not break any rules that we have enforced on you, do you understand?”
“I would never wish to, father,” Regulus replied honestly.
“You are not your brother,” his mother observed. She was glaring at the tapestry, more specifically at his brother’s name Regulus assumed. “This is something we would never ask of him; he would only bring us shame. But you, Regulus,” she turned to him, “will make us proud.”
“I will,” he affirmed.
His father leaned forwards, setting his glass down on the table but a thud. Regulus could see his mother eyeing it up disapprovingly, whether because of the lack of coaster under it or because of the alcohol, Regulus wasn’t sure.
“You will start making connections now,” Orion began again, “You will speak with other pure families at school, when you visit Narcissa you will take time to speak with Lucius, you will meet with Bellatrix and Rudolfus–”
Regulus suppressed a shiver at that. Seeking out Bellatrix for company was not something anyone chose to do.
“ –they will teach you much, things they don’t teach you at that school. Once all is done, that is the first thing we shall change.”
“May I ask,” Regulus spoke, feeling his anticipation building, “When will the change happen?”
A smile appeared on his mother’s face at the eagerness in his tone that he wasn’t quite able to conceal. Regulus wished she hadn’t, she was more pleasant without it.
“You will meet him next year at the earliest, a year after that most likely,” his father replied and Regulus couldn’t help but feel disappointed, “You are only going into your first year, hardly skilled enough to have anything to offer yet.”
“Work hard, Regulus, and you will be rewarded,” his mother added.
“A drastic change such as this takes a long time to plan.” Regulus’ eyes moved back to his father from where they had gone to his mother when she had spoken. “In war, you must not be hasty. Soldiers may fight the war, but rarely do they win it. With time and planning, they will. You, son, will win it.”
There was such finality in that statement. There was only one outcome that his father would allow; the one where the Black family won. Perhaps they would become royalty of sorts, like they had been considered all those years ago. Regulus liked the thought of that.
“You are free to go,” his mother stated, waving a hand to the door.
Back to his room, he walked, in a bit of a daze. This was the news he wanted, the opportunity he needed to make his family proud. To wait two years was nothing if in the end he got to live a lifetime in a new world, a better world.
Nevertheless, there was a growing dread inside of him that he couldn’t quite understand. It had been festering for a while now.
Outside his window, the rain fell heavy, dampening the ground and streaming down his window. There was a puddle on his window sill, dripping off the edge onto the carpet.
Regulus turned away and ignored it; he knew better.