Heart of the Lion

“Regulus, Sirius,” Walburga greeted as the two got off the train, her voice entirely void of emotion. Orion did not say a word.

“Mother,” they both replied, heads down.

There was something like a threat hanging in the air, one that Regulus knew well. For now, they were safe, it was too public for their parents to do anything. But as they got closer and closer to home, Regulus felt a tightness in his lungs. He clasped his hands behind his back to stop them from trembling, and tried to escape this weak body of an eleven-year-old, tried to become something older and stronger, tried to become someone more like Sirius. 

“Sirius, go to your room. Kreacher will bring your luggage,” Walburga instructed, leaving no room for argument. Sirius looked between their mother and Regulus unsurely, but ultimately obeyed, walking up the stairs with a few nervous glances back at Regulus.

Walburga guided Regulus into the sitting room, sitting down on the sofa in an almost casual way that terrified Regulus. His mother was not casual, this was a trick. Regardless, when she gestured for him to sit beside her, he did. As he did for Sirius, Regulus had a soft spot for his mother, compelling him to do whatever she asked. Despite himself, he hated the thought that he had disappointed her.

“What did I tell you at the start of this year?” Walburga asked, one finger under his chin to tilt his head up and make him face her.

“That I was not to be like Sirius,” Regulus mumbled.

“Speak up,” she told him, firmly but not in that typical hiss that was like nails to a chalkboard.

“That I was not to become like Sirius,” Regulus repeated, clearer this time. He finally met her eyes, only to find that they were gentle.

“And you thought that being sorted into Gryffindor was unlike your brother?” She questioned, tilting her head.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Regulus apologised quickly. “I’m- I’m still doing well, I do well in my classes and- and-”

“It’s alright, my love,” Walburga assured softly. She only called him sweet terms of endearment when she wanted something, with some hidden motive. Regulus knew this, deep down, and allowed himself to believe her love was true anyway. No matter how grown he acted and felt, he was still a child, he still wanted to be loved and cradled by his mother. “From now on, you are to do absolutely everything I say. This was simply a mistake, correct? You do not take pride in it as your brother does.”

“No, Mother, I promise,” Regulus agreed. “It was a mistake.”

“Good boy. Go, go upstairs,” Walburga said, pulling her hand away.

As Regulus made his way upstairs, he found Sirius crouching by the bannister, frowning. He stood and looked at Regulus, as though he was so alien as he felt.

“Did you mean what you said?” Sirius asked quietly.

For fear of saying something wrong, Regulus said nothing at all. Because all he could think was, She loves me, she loves me regardless of being in the wrong house where you can only love me as a Gryffindor. She loves me better than you could. He didn’t voice these thoughts because he knew they weren’t true, he knew that his mother was manipulating him and he knew, or he told himself he did, that Sirius’s love for him was unconditional.

Still watching Regulus carefully, his brother led him to his room. They sat on Sirius’s bed, and from his bag, Sirius pulled out a book, the one that he had read to Regulus when he was ill.

“You brought it?” Regulus asked, shocked.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ve got two weeks. I know you like this one, so.” Sirius shrugged, lying down. Regulus followed suit and listened to Sirius read aloud, the both of them hoping that their peaceful bubble would not be burst by any outsiders; because, when they were here, others were not people, just intruders.

There was this small sense of shame that Regulus felt as he realised that he was happy to be home. He would never vocalise this to Sirius, who hated every second that he was not at Hogwarts, with James and his other friends. 

There was a lot that Regulus would put up with to have Sirius all to himself, and being here did not feel like a huge price to pay. This sentiment did not seem to be shared, as Sirius, though he read poetry so softly to Regulus like a bedtime story, was tense and on high alert.

Still, Regulus wondered if he could truly have it both ways, if he could associate with the right people and be loved by his parents, and be in Gryffindor and be loved by his brother as well. It seemed too good to be true. Ever since he was little Regulus had known that there were two paths for him; the one that his parents had chosen and the one that Sirius had chosen. Regulus realised that he had never really thought of a path for himself. There was only what others wanted. But maybe this was his path; having his parents and his brother both.

At dinner, no one spoke. This was typical, and they were all better for it, really. It was only as the house elves were taking their food away, Regulus smiling at Kreacher, that Walburga spoke up.

“The party, as it is every year, will be on New Year’s Eve. I expect you both to be on your best behaviour.” She eyed Sirius as she talked, tone completely formal, and not at all like the motherly façade she had worn only hours prior. “If you step out of line or embarrass us in any way, you will pay for it. Am I understood?”

Regulus and Sirius both nodded wordlessly, and though Walburga’s face remained apathetic, Regulus knew she was pleased with their silent obedience. They walked calmly out of the dining room once they were dismissed and immediately ran upstairs once out of their parents’ sight.

“I can’t believe we have to go to this stupid bloody party,” Sirius groaned, falling backwards onto his bed. It creaked under his weight, and Regulus worried for a moment what would happen if he broke any of the wooden slats underneath the mattress.

“You didn’t have to come home,” Regulus reminded him guiltily. “You could have stayed at Hogwarts.”

“Not without you,” Sirius answered immediately and firmly. 

No matter how many new friends Regulus made at Hogwarts, nothing would ever compare to having his brother there and entirely focused on him. It was not lost on Regulus that holidays, winter and summer break, were maybe the only times that he had Sirius all to himself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough. He wondered how Sirius would feel if he knew that Regulus was hoping to come back home every Christmas. 

They only had two days entirely to themselves before Christmas dinner, and then another several days until the New Year’s party, which neither was looking forward to. Regulus could deal with being home, but he could not deal with the parties, stuffy and fake and loud. He hated all of it. Sirius hated the concept, the idea of it, more than the experience itself.

“What are you writing?” Regulus asked Sirius as they sat on his bed. Regulus wasn’t sure why, but whenever they spent time together, it was in Sirius’s room.

“A letter. To James,” Sirius replied with a grin. “He’s spending Christmas with his parents, too, but apparently he’s happy about it. Do you reckon his parents are like ours?”

“Like ours? What do you mean?” Regulus asked, tilting his head.

“Well, you know.” Sirius shrugged. “The way they treat us.”

“Aren’t all parents like that?”

“James says his parents are great,” Sirius continued. “But I think most people are lying. Remus says his parents are good, too, but he’s got all those scars.”

Regulus did not confide in Sirius his theory, as he worried Sirius would laugh at him or, if he did believe him, it would make Sirius hate Remus. Sirius had always been strange about people who were ‘different’, Regulus himself had spent his entire life trying to be enough like his brother that Sirius could love him.

-

Regulus woke up on Christmas morning with that regular pit in his stomach. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, Christmas had never been good for Regulus. Still, he tried to pretend, to make Sirius believe that he was still doing a good job at shielding Regulus. As he had every Christmas save the last, Regulus waited in bed for Sirius to come and ‘wake him up’.

The door opened twenty minutes after Regulus woke up, and Sirius kneeled on the edge of the bed, shaking Regulus. 

“Reggie, wake up, it’s Christmas,” Sirius said, quietly but with an excitement that they both knew was forced.

Regulus turned over and opened his eyes, feigning a yawn. “G’morning,” he mumbled. Sirius threw himself at Regulus in a hug, making Regulus giggle.

“I’ve got you gifts, but you’ll have to wait, James is sending them with his owl,” Sirius told him, the excitement now far more genuine. Regulus smiled and nodded, trying not to hate that James seemed to be brought up in every one of their conversations.

Sirius sat up in the bed, and Regulus rested his head on his brother’s shoulder as he began his story. After starting Hogwarts, Sirius had learned a few actual, muggle Christmas stories, but Regulus preferred the ones he made up himself, incoherent and always following two brothers who bore a striking resemblance to Regulus and Sirius, though Sirius assured him that it was purely coincidence.

“The two brothers finally escaped the witch’s house, and got to celebrate Christmas, going around and giving presents to everyone except the witch and the monsters,” Sirius finished. “I thought of that one last Christmas, I’ve been waiting to tell you it.”

“I like it,” Regulus mumbled, eyes drooping with exhaustion.

“Come on, Reggie, we have to get up,” Sirius said, standing up and intentionally jostling Regulus to keep him awake.

The day went as days normally did in Grimmauld Place, Christmas not meaning anything to Walburga and Orion, past their regular Christmas family dinner. It was not until the late afternoon that anything began to differ from their regular routine. Cygnus, Druella, and Narcissa were the first to show up. Cygnus and Druella watched Sirius and Regulus with a clear disapproval, and Narcissa would not meet their eyes. Stepping in, Walburga led the three into the kitchen and to their respective seats, having Kreacher get them drinks while they waited for everyone else to arrive.

The next time there was a knock on the door, it was Bellatrix and her new husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. He followed after her like a lost puppy as she completely ignored him. They sat at the table side by side, and Regulus understood so well the sadness in Narcissa’s face as Bellatrix did not choose to sit beside her. 

As always, Walburga and Orion invited families who were related by marriage, or who would be. This was how Regulus learned that Narcissa was betrothed to Lucius Malfoy, and he was sure he threw up a little in his mouth. Rodolphus’s family had also been invited, Rabastan sitting down beside Regulus. He smiled a little awkwardly at Regulus, which Regulus returned.

The absence of Andromeda did not go unnoticed by either brother, Regulus attempting to catch Narcissa’s eyes. One of the only good things about these dinners, especially for Sirius, was seeing Andromeda. She had always been Sirius’s favourite cousin, and they both looked around, trying to figure out what they were missing.

Alphard was the last to show, as he always was. He sat down wordlessly with a wink towards Sirius and Regulus. Regulus wasn’t sure if he was communicating the question well enough with his eyes, but he didn’t know how else to ask of Andromeda’s absence. If Alphard knew what he was getting at, he showed no sign of it.

The entire thing felt fake, not just in the sense that this familial love was untruthful, but in the sense that everything felt plastic, an artificial taste lingering in Regulus’s mouth with every bite.

Regulus made sure to eat slowly and in small amounts, as their parents always instructed them to do. All he wanted was to appease his parents, though it never worked. They were always punished for something, no matter how well they believed they had behaved. But however badly they had been punished in the past, this was going to be much, much worse.

An owl flew in through the window. Normally, the Blacks kept protective wards around the house, but during their dinners and parties they took them down for their guests, in case they were to receive any letters. So, at first, it didn’t matter that there was an owl. It was not unusual for one or two guests to say they could not make it, or for someone to receive a letter. They were all of high status, someone always demanding their attention. But the owl flew straight for Sirius, who unsurely took the package from its foot, eyes widening with fear as he read the note attached.

“It’s from James,” Sirius whispered. “It’s…it’s your present.”

Before Regulus could reply, Walburga was walking around the table and pulling the package from Sirius’s grasp, sending the owl—Parker, according to the note—away. With a forced smile, Walburga waved a dismissive hand, and they could both tell this was not the end of it.

After dinner, Regulus and Sirius slipped away to the bathroom to have a moment alone, and realised that Narcissa had followed them. It was the most secure Regulus had felt in a long time, really, the two most important people in his life both surrounding him.

“Sirius, what was that?” Narcissa hissed.

“He wasn’t supposed to send it through there! I told him to send it to my room!” Sirius replied in a whisper-shout.

Regulus did not say, but thought, that James had a knack for ruining things. Sirius’s face only grew sadder.

“I’m sorry, Reggie, I really wanted to give you your present,” Sirius said quietly. “It was just a few more books and a new quill and ink set that I thought you’d like.”

“It’s okay,” Regulus mumbled, just glad that Sirius had thought of him at all.

“No, it’s not,” Narcissa interjected. “You’re going to get in a lot of trouble for this, Sirius.”

Although Narcissa’s tone was harsh, Regulus thought he could hear an underlying apology in it. Before he could think better of it, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She only tensed for a moment before returning the hug. Regulus felt Sirius step into the hug as well, and he wished that he could stay like this forever, enclosed in some circle of utter safety and comfort.

As the brothers stepped away from Narcissa, Sirius brought up the question that had entirely slipped Regulus’s mind. “Where’s Andy?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Narcissa asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. Regulus and Sirius both shook their heads. “She married a muggle. My parents…they disowned her for it.”

None of them said another word, just let a sadness pass between them. Narcissa had always been closest to Bellatrix, Regulus knew, but if she was feeling even half of what Regulus would feel at losing Sirius, he didn’t know how she could bear it.

For the rest of dinner, Regulus and Sirius were on edge, unsure of what to do, how to make any of this okay. A lingering sense of sadness and dread was continuously in the air, reminding them of what had happened and what was to come once the gathering ended. Regulus could not help but think that everyone else felt it, too. Narcissa, Alphard, even Rodolphus, all seemed to look at them with such a knowing pity that Regulus felt ill with it. 

Following a plastic dinner was a plastic reunion of sorts, the small party moving into the bigger of the sitting rooms. Neither Walburga nor Orion looked at either of their sons for the entirety of the night. As everyone left, Regulus could feel that Alphard wanted to protest whatever his sister and brother-in-law were going to do, but thought better of it. 

“Regulus, go to your room,” Walburga ordered once the door had closed behind the last guest.

Hesitation, in their parents’ eyes, was a form of weakness, if not rebellion. Still, it took Regulus a second to obey. He did, of course. He always did. As he spared a look towards Sirius, his brother nodded encouragingly. Regulus tried not to feel cruel, leaving Sirius to whatever punishment he was to receive. But he had no choice, he supposed.

Trying to summon any of his brother’s courage, or his own supposed Gryffindor traits, he sat at the top of the stairs and listened for whatever was to come.

Regulus did not hear what curse was used. It was something quiet, then a flash of light, then a piercing scream that Regulus would never be able to unhear. Any sort of acceptance he had begun to feel towards James Potter quickly evaporated. This was entirely James’s fault. The screaming did not stop until Sirius’s voice was gone, and Regulus would never forgive James.

As he heard Walburga and Orion ascending the stairs, Regulus ran and hid in his bedroom until he was sure they had gone to bed. He snuck back downstairs, finding Sirius sprawled out on the floor, and struggled to help him back upstairs. Sirius did not say a word for three days.

-

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Regulus entered Sirius’s room and laid down on his bed. He felt Sirius’s arms wrap around him, and neither spoke for a half hour. More than family dinners, Regulus hated the parties. Especially the New Year’s ones, that dragged out from the early afternoon until the small hours of the morning.

When they finally spoke, it was Sirius reading quietly to Regulus, poetry about early mornings romanticising the darkness of the room. Regulus focused on the beams of light coming in through the window, writing his own little poems in his head.

They did not move until 10am, when they knew they’d have to start getting ready for the upcoming party.

They dressed in their respective rooms quickly, neither putting on anything special as they knew Walburga would have specific outfits laid out for them before the party. They met in the hallway and walked downstairs, finding Walburga ordering people around, telling the house elves where to put things and getting frustrated with Orion, who was just sitting there.

“Sirius,” Walburga said suddenly after they had been standing in the doorway for a few minutes. “You are to cut that god-awful hair. What have I said about making sure it doesn’t get too long at Hogwarts?”

“Sorry, Mother,” Sirius replied, jaw clenched. There was a new glint of fear in his eyes that had not been there before Christmas. They had been punished before, but from the scream still sounding in Regulus’s ears, he knew this was the worst of it.

“Sorry doesn’t fix it. Kreacher!” She shouted. Kreacher quickly apparated to her side, listening intently to her order and guiding Sirius away so that he could have his hair cut. Regulus kept his hands behind his back and his face blank, so that his mother would not notice his anxiety at being separated from his brother.

As Regulus waited for Sirius to get back, he had nothing to do. Walburga continued to order house elves around, making sure everything was perfect for the party that evening. Orion sat across from Regulus in the sitting room, reading the Prophet. And Regulus just waited, wishing he was able to see Sirius at all times. He could breathe just a little better when Sirius was around.

The only time Regulus was acknowledged was when his mother sat beside him and spoke softly and yet with an underlying threat. “People are going to ask you about being in Gryffindor. Whatever you say, you are proud to be a member of the House of Black, and you will represent us well. I do not want any more of your mistakes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

As guests began to show, Regulus felt his throat tighten with worry. Sirius was not here. Regulus had to greet people alone with his mother and father. Where was Sirius? As Regulus looked around desperately, knowing he was not doing well to play the composed part his mother had requested of him, his eyes finally landed on Sirius.

Safe.

Of course, he wasn’t. Not really. Not in a place like this. But still, he stood a little straighter, his hands stopped shaking. By the look on Sirius’s face, he was not happy about his new haircut, which was much shorter than he liked it to be. He headed straight for Regulus, standing protectively at his side.

“Are you alright?” Sirius asked, his voice stiff. Regulus just nodded, his voice failing him.

They both knew the routine by now, standing at the door and conversing for a few moments with each guest, everyone uninterested and none willing to admit it. Regulus knew them all by now. None were kind people, not if they associated with the Black Family. Regulus wondered what that meant for the people he and Sirius spent time with. Were they bad people, too? Or would being around people from the House of Black make them bad, ruin them? Regulus felt sick thinking that they might taint people so kind as Pandora, someone so considerate as Remus.

“Reg, pay attention,” Sirius whispered into his ear.

Apologising quietly, Regulus clasped his hands tightly behind his back and greeted the next people to enter, the Malfoys. Lucius’s glare felt as though it burned through Regulus’s skin, as it had at dinner the week prior, so heavy as it was. Abraxas wore a lazy smile, extending a hand to both brothers and again making some attempt at conversation.

The Yaxleys entered with a similar aura of power, a true belief that they were better than everyone else. Regulus himself had never understood this belief, he had always felt far inferior to those around him, to Sirius and to his parents and, now, to James and all of Sirius’s other friends. Maybe it was some façade these people had worked to build. Whatever the reason, Regulus had realised long ago that he did not like people who believed they were better than him, even if he believed it as well. He felt far too vulnerable, far too susceptible.

Regulus thought that, so far, everyone had danced around the topic of the two being in Gryffindor, which he was grateful for. It raised questions about how Walburga and Orion had raised them, Regulus knew that. It didn’t look good for them. Sure, Sirius could be excused as a black sheep, a defect. But if it was both of them? Regulus could not help but worry for his parents. He didn’t want anyone thinking that his and Sirius’s mistakes were their parents’ fault. He tried to only think of what they had done to Sirius the week before. He should not feel bad for them. Forcing hatred for his parents had never worked before, though, and it would not work this time.

Every greeting went the same way, really, from the Averys to the Lestranges, avoiding the subject in a way that made its presence so loud.

The only thing that made everything a little bit more bearable was Barty’s arrival. Although he was not himself, not when he was around his father, Regulus still found comfort in the fact that he was there. They shared a look, something unreadable to everyone else, and Regulus did not feel so trapped anymore.

It was strange, though. Regulus had always been encouraged to spend time with Barty, but had never wanted to. Now, he wanted to, and was not allowed.

“That’s everyone,” Sirius said with a relieved sigh. Regulus nodded, eyes sticking to Barty and the tightness with which his father gripped his shoulder. “Earth to Regulus.”

“Sorry,” Regulus mumbled.

At every other party they had been to, Sirius would drag Regulus to the table laid out with all kinds of food they were not allowed to eat, and would convince Regulus to eat them, to break the rules. This time, Regulus was the one to make him eat, not for the sake of angering his parents, as Sirius did, but because his brother hadn’t eaten in days. Regulus felt worry rise in his throat as Sirius refused the first two times Regulus urged him to eat. Finally, though, Regulus snuck something away for Sirius, and they found a quiet sitting room to hide for a moment. 

Punishments had never done this to Sirius before. It terrified Regulus, to think how badly he must have been hurt for it to cause this reaction. When they made their way back to the main hall, Regulus felt as though Sirius was hiding behind him, where it was always the other way around. All Regulus wanted was to go up to his brother’s room and cling to him for dear life.

Despite the clear undertone of sadness and exhaustion, they both tried to keep up a cold yet proud appearance. As they grew tired, though, they knew they weren’t doing very well. In their parents’ eyes, they never did.

In Sirius’s letter to him the year before, his brother had told him of the countdown the small group of students who’d stayed over Christmas break had done in the Gryffindor common room. At the party in Grimmauld Place, nothing of the sort happened. It was not a celebration, nothing in this house ever was.

Guests began to file out late into the early morning, and Regulus couldn’t tell if he was unnerved or happy that the noise began to quiet. He’d never like how loud the parties were, music and muttered conversations overtaking his senses. He felt like a bystander in his own life at his parents’ dinners.

Barty cast Regulus a sympathetic smile as his parents led him out the door. The last of the guests had gone and Sirius and Regulus stood alone in the entrance with their parents. There was no punishment, not even a word uttered. Regulus knew it was not necessarily a good sign, but allowed himself to be grateful nonetheless.

-

Regulus hated himself for it, but he was sad to be at the train station once again. There was a lot wrong with being home, and he knew that. But at home, Sirius was nothing else but his brother. Sirius had been so excited to leave, so ready to be away from their mother and father. And it was not that Regulus would miss his parents. He loved them, of course, but they left pain wherever they went. Regulus worried that if he was around them for long enough he would begin to do the same. If it were up to Regulus, he and Sirius would spend all their time alone, somewhere nicer than Grimmauld Place and quieter than Hogwarts. Somewhere safe. But it was not up to Regulus. Nothing ever was.

There was no warning from Walburga this time around. Regulus supposed the screams still ringing in his ears were warning enough.

Together they got onto the train, searching for Sirius’s friends. Regulus felt as though, as the train pulled away, he was already losing Sirius once again.