Siblings
Sirius woke up to pain. A deep, aching kind that sat in his ribs. His head throbbed, his vision swam, and when he reached down, he felt bandages, new ones, tight and neatly wrapped. Not his work. Kreacher, then. The old house-elf pretended to hate him, but he still patched him up in secret.
With a wince, Sirius pushed himself upright, 5:40 in the afternoon. He had been out all day.
That meant his parents weren’t home. If they were, he’d have been dragged downstairs by now. They left often, usually for sacred 28 meetings or so.e pure-blood gathering, if not then to plan hate crimes. Sirius preferred it when they were gone, he had gotton used to it, him and his siblings had a routine.
Slowly, he stood, his muscles protesting. He had to check on them.
He found them in the small sitting room.
Astraelle was on her stomach, little legs kicking as she scribbled on a piece of parchment. Irene sat beside her, arms crossed, bossily giving directions. Regulus was sat over un the far end of the room.
The moment Sirius stepped into the room, Astraelle’s head shot up.
"Siri! Tu es réveillé ! (Siri! You’re awake!)” she squealed, immediately launching herself at him.
Sirius barely had time to brace himself before she clung to his waist.
"Tu m’as manqué. (Did you miss me?)”
She nodded vigorously, looking up at him with wide grey eyes. "T'étais parti trop longtemps. (You were gone too long.)”
Irene scoffed. "Pas trop longtemps. Juste toute la journée. Mais on a cru que t’étais mort pendant un moment. (Not too long. Just all day. But we did think you were dead for a bit.)”
Sirius snorted. "Heureux de voir que tu avais confiance en moi. (Nice to know you had faith in me.)”
Regulus finally looked up from his book. His voice was quiet. "Ça va? (Are you okay?)”
Sirius hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Je vais bien. (I’m fine.)”
Regulus didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. That was how it always was between them, Sirius never admitted how bad it got, and Regulus never asked. Although he guessed they all heard the screams from the night before.
Sirius sighed, stretching out his sore limbs. "Qui a faim? (Who’s hungry?)”
Astraelle gasped dramatically. "Moi! Moi! Moi! (Me! Me! Me!)”
Regulus set his book aside. "Tu fais quoi? (What are you making?)”
"Ramen?" Sirius suggested.
Regulus’s face brightened slightly, and the girls cheered. Their mother never let them eat “foreign” food, but Sirius had learned how to make it himself. It had quickly become their comfort meal.
The water boiled as Sirius grabbed ingredients. Astraelle climbed onto a stool, watching him intently. Irene crossed her arms beside him, her usual smug expression in place.
"Je veux celui qui est épicé. (I want the spicy one.)” she declared.
Sirius raised a brow. "Toi? Tu ne supportes même pas le poivre noir. (You? You can’t even handle black pepper.)
Irene scowled. "Je peux trop! (Can too!)”
Sirius smirked. "D'accord, mais tu auras une version légèrement épicée. (Alright, but you’re getting a mildly spicy version.)” He turned to Regulus. "Tu veux toujours le vrai? (You still want the real one?)”
Regulus nodded. "Évidemment. (Obviously.)”
They all settled at the worn kitchen table.
For a while, they ate in comfortable silence, the warmth of the broth cutting through the ever-present chill of the house. Sirius glanced around at them, Astraelle kicking her legs happily, Irene pretending she wasn’t struggling with the spice, Regulus quiet as ever.
Finally, Sirius cleared his throat. "Comment c'était? (How bad has it been?)”
Regulus didn’t look up. He twirled his chopsticks between his fingers. "Comme d’habitude. (The usual.)”
Sirius waited. Regulus sighed.
"Père boit plus. (Father’s drinking more.)” He hesitated, then added, "Et je crois… il prend autre chose. (And I think… he’s taking something else.)”
Sirius’s grip on his chopsticks tightened. "De la drogue? (Drugs?)”
Regulus nodded. "Peut-être. Il est souvent dans un état bizarre. Mais on reste à l’écart. (Maybe. He’s out of it a lot. But we stay out of the way.)”
Sirius exhaled slowly. That explained a lot. Their father had always been cruel, but drinking made it worse. The idea of him using something stronger.
"Il t’a…? (Did he—?)” Sirius started, but Regulus cut him off with a shake of his head.
"Pas vraiment. Juste en colère. Mais il nous ignore la plupart du temps maintenant. (Not really. Just angry. But he mostly ignores us now.)”
Sirius didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Irene, who had been listening, suddenly scoffed. "Il est toujours en colère." (He’s always angry.)
Astraelle, completely unaware of the weight of the conversation, grinned at Sirius. "Tu fais la meilleure nourriture! (You make the best food!)”
Sirius forced a smile. "Quelqu’un doit bien vous nourrir, vu que Mère s’en fiche. (Someone’s got to feed you lot, since Mother doesn’t care.)”
Regulus smirked slightly. "T’es pratiquement notre troisième parent. (You’re basically our third parent.)”
"Ouais, (Yeah,)” Irene agreed. "Mais en mieux. (Except a better one.)”
Sirius huffed a laugh. "Quelle flatterie. (High praise.)”
Astraelle clapped her hands and immediately began interrogating Sirius.
"Alors, dis-moi tout sur Poudlard!" (So, tell me everything about Hogwarts!) she demanded between mouthfuls.
Sirius smirked. "Tout? Ça va prendre toute la nuit." (Everything? That’ll take all night.)
"Alors, commence!" (Then start!) Astraelle insisted.
Even Irene looked interested, though she was much more subtle about it. Regulus, too, glanced up.
Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning.
"D’accord. D’abord, le Choixpeau." (Alright. First, the Sorting Hat.)
Astraelle’s eyes widened. "Tu as vraiment dû porter un chapeau magique?" (You really had to wear a magic hat?)
Sirius chuckled. "Ouais. Il chante, aussi." (Yeah. It sings, too.)
Astraelle gasped. "Un chapeau qui chante?! Et il t’a mis à Gryffondor?!" (A singing hat?! And it put you in Gryffindor?!)
Sirius hesitated for just a second. Right. He hadn’t told them much about that.
Regulus’s expression hardened slightly. "Tu aurais dû être à Serpentard." (You should have been in Slytherin.)
Sirius sighed. "Le Choixpeau a décidé autrement." (The Sorting Hat decided otherwise.)
Regulus stared at him for a long moment before looking away, taking another bite of his food.
Sirius didn’t push it.
Instead, he turned back to Astraelle and Irene. "Mais Poudlard, c’est incroyable." (But Hogwarts is incredible.) He launched into stories about enchanted staircases, secret passageways, and floating candles in the Great Hall.
They listened, wide-eyed, hanging onto every word. Even Regulus, though he pretended not to care, kept quietly listening.
Just the four of them, sitting around the kitchen table, talking about things that mattered.