Frozen hearts

Born of cold and winter air and mountain rain combining

This icy force, both foul and fair has a frozen heart worth mining

So cut through the heart, cold and clear

Strike for love, and strike for fear

See the beauty, sharp and sheer

Split the ice apart

And break the frozen heart

“Pssst Reggie!”

“Reggieeee,” someone whined in his ear.

“Mm what?” he murmured, still asleep.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” the annoying someone still whisper-yelled.

“Go back to sleep, Siri.”

“I can’t,” Sirius whined again, throwing himself on bedding, “the Moon’s awake, so I am awake.”

“The Moon is always awake.”

“That just means I am too!”

“I’m tired, Siri.”

“Well I’m not,”

“Yes, I can see that,” Regulus cracked one eye open, his lips curling up just a pinch. He pushed Sirius off the bed and a smirk pulled on his face at the ‘thump’ he heard next.

Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Just as Regulus thought he was going to leave, Sirius' face lit up. He climbed on the bed again and hovered right above Regulus' face as he whispered the following;

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

Regulus’ eyes cracked open, and a smile took over his face as he looked at Sirius’ excited face. He supposed a bit of late-night fun won’t hurt, will it now?

“Slow down Siri!” he yelled after Sirius who was running down the stairs laughing. Regulus laughed too, trying to catch up to Sirius. They giggled as they descended the stairs, pretending to be quiet.

When they reached the bottom, they ran to the ballroom and they threw open the doors, closing them behind them. Together they ran to the middle of the room, laughing all the while with hands covering their mouths. They were supposed to be quiet, because if their parents or someone caught them, it wasn’t going to end well.

“C’mon Reg, c’mon! Do the magic!” Sirius said, coming to stand in front of Regulus.

Regulus laughed, and brought his hands together. He focused on the cold he felt in his palms, in his veins, trying to get a sense of it. When he did, he carefully created an invisible string and started carving it with his hands, moving it around.

Slowly, a mist started forming around his hands, and Regulus shivered in anticipation. He could hear Sirius clap his hands, but he continued to focus on what he was doing with his hands. Snow slowly started sparkling amongst the mist and Regulus gathered it all into a ball of sorts before throwing it in the air. Just as it reached the ceiling, Sirius shrieked, throwing his arms up in the air.

Instantly, the misty ball explodes and in its place turns thousands and thousands of snowflakes.

Regulus made it snow. In the dead of the night, in a closed room, in the middle of fall.

Regulus has made it snow.

Sirius shrieked again and started trying to catch the snowflakes with his tongue stuck out. Regulus laughed, putting his palm out just to see a few snowflakes land right in the middle of it.

“Look at this,” Regulus said as he stomped his leg on the floor. From where his foot landed, ice started spreading all throughout the room, and suddenly it was all frozen like a giant lake, except there was no icy water underneath they could fall into.

They both giggle as their feet glide on the ice. Sirius took Regulus’ hand, and together they started going around in circles around the room, tumbling over their feet every few steps.

Regulus closed his eyes, concentrating on the snowflakes flying around, and tried to make them even more. When he opens his eyes, around them are many small, white hills made out of snow, and Sirius is looking at him with starry eyes. Everything around them looks like a winter wonderland, and Regulus can’t help but feel proud of himself for creating it.

His parents have always hated him for having this power, thinking it was ‘unnatural’ and ‘wrong’, and saying he should’ve never been born. His older brother, Sirius, has always defended him, even though more often than not it would get him into trouble.

Their parents…weren’t really great, so to say. Regulus still has the scar on his cheek from where his father had back-handed him and his ring broke the skin. Sirius had scars all over his hands from cigarette burns, most of them not healed properly. They’re both severely underweight, from long hungry nights spent hugging their knees to their chest from the hunger pains.

Walburga and Orion Black were cold-hearted, and they wanted their sons, Sirius and Regulus Black, to be just like them.

Except, Regulus came out even colder than them, with hair as black as coal, and skin as white as snow; and most of all, hands that could create something colder than them all. Snow and ice, winter at his fingertips, Regulus grew up being told his powers were a disgrace, and that he should hide them under all costs. And he did, because he knew no better, and thought his parents knew everything and how it all should be. So he listened, hid his powers, wore gloves at all times, and sat near the fire, no matter how much it pained him to be so close to the heat.

And then Sirius, in the late hours of the night, would come to jump on his bed and wake him up, asking for them to play. Neither of them understood it at the time, but it was a way of Sirius showing Regulus that he accepted him, and of showing Regulus that he could be accepted just the same, even though he is different. So when the Moon was high up, they would sneak into the ballroom, and Regulus would make it snow, and they would play, and they would be happy.

“Hi I’m Peter, and I love warm hugs!” Regulus said, pretending to be the snowman they made while Sirius giggled.

“I love you, Pete!” Sirius squeaked as he hugged the snowman, careful not to ruin it. It was nice, like this, not bothering to hide their true selves and just being kids, like they were always supposed to be. The snow, it was theirs, and nothing could ever take it from them.

“Reg, catch me!” Sirius yelled right before he jumped off a snow pile, Regulus quickly shot out his hands and created another snow pile right in the place where Sirius would land before he could hit the ground.

Sirius laughed as he landed in the snow, before he got up and jumped again. Regulus created another snow pile, catching him again.

“This is so fun!” yelled Sirius as he jumped once more. Regulus struggled to catch up with him since creating the snow piles took significantly more energy than jumping from them.

“Slow down, you’re going too fast!” he shouted after Sirius, muscles straining as he desperately tried to make sure his brother didn’t fall and hurt himself.

Sirius doesn’t register what he said, still jumping from heap to heap.

Just as Regulus is about to catch him again, he slipped on the ice and fell. He scrambled to turn around and get up, shooting a burst of snow from his hand in Sirius’ general direction.

Thankfully, he catches him.

But his relief is short-lived since right afterwards his parents enter the ballroom.

“What in the world is happening here?!” he heard his mother shout.

“Mother!” Sirius yelled as he scurried to get up.

Their mother was walking fast towards them, with their father on her heels. She took a second to look over the room before she strode over to Regulus and lifted him by the shirt he was wearing.

“How dare you filthy this room as you did?! How absolutely dare you use your powers so plainly!” she shouted in his face.

“Mother no! He didn’t want to do it, I made him, I made him!” screamed Sirius desperately, clutching at her robes. And Regulus' blood runs cold, because he knows, he knows his mother is going to believe that, that it was Sirius’ fault. Because, no matter what powers Regulus had, he was the more well-behaved one, and not Sirius. They liked him more, not Sirius. They had more limits with him, not Sirius.

“You!” Mother turned to him, “ You’ll pay for that!”

She dropped Regulus, and he fell to the floor, frozen.

Walburga then took Sirius by the hand and dragged him to the other side of the room, away from Regulus. She slapped him, and Sirius flinched away from her.

“Look at your mother when she’s talking to you!” Orion’s voice bloomed from where he was standing, kicking Sirius with his leg.

Regulus wants to help his brother, he wants, he wants, he wants, but he can’t, because he’s frozen in place watching his parents as they hurt Sirius. Only Sirius’ scream of pain finally broke him out of his trance, and he held his hand out, meaning to run to them.

Only that doesn’t happen.

And he could feel the power coursing through his veins, from his heart to the tips of his fingers, a power born of hatred, hatred for the people that could ever dare to hurt his brother, his Sirius. He watched in slow motion as ice formed from his palm and flew over to where they were all standing, hitting all of them.

Hitting all of them.

Sirius, his mother and his father all fly backwards and fall on the still frozen ground. His heart drops when he hears a sickening crunch from where his father fell down.

He couldn't help it, he screamed.

He screamed until his throat was raw, until he was pretty sure he had woken up half the castle by now. He screamed until two more people came running into the ballroom.

“What happened?” Euphemia Potter said, crouching down beside Regulus.

“I– I don’t–” he tried to say, but his heart was in his throat, and he couldn't seem to get the words out.

The other person who came running, Fleamont Potter, Euphemia’s husband, goes over to check on Sirius, Walburga, and Orion. His face morphed into one of panic, and he quickly takes in Regulus’ panicked expression.

“Euphemia,” he whispered, but in the silent room, it was heard as well as if he screamed it.

Euphemia looked over to her husband, and all colour drained from her face as she took in the people lying on the floor unconscious. Regulus looked over too, and he felt himself getting sick to his stomach at the sight of his family lying there unmoving and unconscious.

“Okay, okay, it’s going to be fine, we don’t have to worry, it’s going to be okay,” Euphemia said, and Regulus guessed it was supposed to be reassuring, but it only sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

“Effie, they’re ice cold.”

“Monty, take Sirius, I’ll call the guards and tell them there’s been an accident and the King and the Queen are down,” she said, this time more surely.

Fleamont picks up Sirius, who has a white streak in his hair and whose head sags against Monty’s shoulder. Regulus thought he saw him kiss Sirius’ forehead, but he couldn’t be sure in his panicked state.

“Ma– ma’am, I can’t– I don’t know–” he tried to say, to explain, to tell her that he didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t want to hurt them.

“Shh, it’s okay darling, call me Effie,” she said soothingly, caressing his arm, “tell us what happened, please?”

Regulus took a deep breath. He can do this, for Sirius, he can do it. His brain feels woozy, and he still thinks he might be sick any moment now, but he’s going to be fine, and his family isn’t if he doesn’t get it together.

“I–I hit them, accidentally! I hit them with my powers, I hit them…” he whispered, terrified of himself. He never meant to hit them, he didn’t, but he did, and now they might– they might–

“Hey, shh, it’s alright, we’re going to fix this, okay?” said Effie, still trying to comfort him, “They’re going to be alright, okay? I promise, Sirius will be fine.”

“Okay,” he breathed.

“Monty, prepare the horses, we’re going somewhere.”

Fleamont left the room immediately, Sirius still in his arms. Euphemia gently took Regulus' hand and led them to find the closest pair of guards. Since they were in the ballroom and it was the middle of the night, it was a long time before they found the guards patrolling. Regulus guessed Fleamont was already ready with the horses and waiting for them.

“Quick, the Queen and King are down in the ballroom! They were there with their sons when they just fell to the ground out of nowhere!” Effie told the guards when they got close enough for them to hear them.

“Thank you ma’am!” one of them answered as they all started running towards where Effie told them Walburga and Orion were. After that was done, Effie took Regulus’ hand again and led him to the gates, where Regulus could distinctively place Monty waiting for them with two horses.

“Where are we going, dear?” Fleamont asks when they reach him and the horses.

“To save Sirius.” said Effie determinedly as she climbed Regulus up on one of the horses, coming up beside him. Monty doesn’t need any more time, as he quickly climbs himself and still unconscious Sirius up on the other horse, wrapping him up in his cloak.

They gallop through the woods, the grass freezing after them, Regulus’ powers turning them to ice.

Regulus looked around them as they stopped in the middle of the clearing, or, more like an amphitheatre? Full of rocks?

Definitely not rocks.

Definitely not rocks because they are currently moving towards them.

Not rocks, because they just turned into trolls. Regulus hid his face in Effie’s chest as he heard the whispers.

“It’s the Princes!”

“What are they doing here?”

“What’s wrong with Prince Sirius?”

“Is he okay?”

“What are Effie and Monty doing here?”

“Where’s James?”

“Effie! Monty! What brings you here?” one of the trolls finally spoke to them, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture.

“We need help, quickly. Could you call the chieftain, please, it’s an emergency,” Monty said as he unwrapped Sirius from his cloak, showing his shivering figure to the trolls. Gasps echoed throughout the amphitheatre as they took in Sirius’ frail, trembling form.

A troll made their way over to them, this one with even more gems around his neck than the other ones. He took one look at Regulus before taking his hand, cold as ice in his earthy ones.

“Cursed?” he asked Euphemia and Fleamont.

“No, not as far as we know. Were you born with your powers, dear?” Euphemia answered the troll– chieftain?, before asking Regulus.

“Y–yes, I was,” he manages to stutter out to the troll.

“They’re getting out of control,” he whispered as an afterthought.

“Give him to me,” the chieftain said to Monty, referring to Sirius.

Monty carefully crouched down with Sirius, not once letting him out of his arms. He removed his cloak completely and swung it around himself, leaving Sirius bare bar his clothes.

“You were very lucky it was the head, and not the heart,” the troll chieftain said, putting his arm on Sirius’ forehead, “The heart is unwavering, the head…can be coaxed to change its mind.”

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked them, his eyes getting teary as he looked over to his still brother.

“It means that we can help him, because the head, the mind, is constantly changing. The heart, however, is very firm in its decisions,” they said, moving their hand around Sirius’ head, creating a purply blue mist, not unlike the one Regulus did.

Then, amid the mist suddenly snowflakes turned up, and it looked like they were pulled out of Sirius’ skin . But that would be impossible, obviously.

Except would it? Regulus hit him with his powers, and the snow went into him with such force that it knocked him backwards. Who knows what is currently happening inside of Sirius’ head? Regulus can only hope he will be okay.

“He will be okay,” the chieftain troll said at last. He then turned to Regulus and took his hands in theirs, looking him in the eyes. Regulus shied away from the eye contact, but something made him want to look into their eyes, and listen carefully.

“Listen to me carefully, child. Your powers, they are dangerous, and as beautiful as they are, the danger is all that people will see. You’ll have to learn how to control them,” they said, shaking their joined hands slightly.

“Fear will be your greatest enemy.”

Regulus gasped, ripping his arms away from the chieftain and crowding into Effie, who wrapped her arms around him.

He didn’t know why, or how, even, since he had seen them just a handful of times before, but Effie and Monty felt safe. Regulus was scared, and he just hurt his whole family with his powers, and only found out now that his brother was going to be okay. He felt like he was going to float away, and he needed an anchor. And Effie and Monty were there, with their feet on the ground and hands willing to hold him down. Monty quickly ushers them both towards the horses, helping them climb on. Regulus, in front of Effie, looks over to where Fleamont is wrapping Sirius again in his cloak. His heart contracted, and he quickly looked away.

The ride back to the castle was blurry, all sharp and fast gallops and dark shadows. Regulus was only half-aware of his surroundings, lost in thought.

When they arrived at the castle and the guards let them through, with more than a few questioning looks, Regulus honestly couldn’t wait to just get in bed and go to sleep. His eyes were already closing on their own; he should’ve been asleep ages ago. What would Mother do when she found out he stayed up so late?

Only, when he got to his and Sirius’ room, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Sirius's bed is gone.

And the whole room felt wrong.

Because there, on one side, was Regulus’ bed, made, with neatly laid pyjamas on top of it, and Regulus’ closet. But on the other side, where Sirius’ things are supposed to be, was just empty space. There was no Sirius’ messy bed, and his overflowing closet, with peasant shirts hid in the back. There was nothing, nothing except empty walls.

“His Majesty has ordered we remove the Prince’s bed and things from your shared bedroom, and they have been moved to the room at the end of the hallway,” a servant informed him with a curt voice, eyes looking straight ahead, not anywhere near Regulus’ direction. Regulus is thankful for it; he felt like crying, and Father always used to tell him to never cry in front of others – or at all, really.

He managed to nod in the servant’s general direction, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor.

The servant – Regulus should really know his name – then leaves, leaving Regulus alone. Completely, utterly alone. In this room, not new no, but new somehow it is, because it’s without his brother.

Looking back, Regulus thought, this was the first time his relationship with his brother began crumbling and decaying.