Chapter 2
“Monsieur Stravius, I mean no offense by this.” He did, “but that has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Regulus is sitting at a transfigured desk in one of the additional drawing rooms in Grimmauld Place. His tutor, Andree Stravius, is currently looking at him with an extremely unimpressed expression as he stands before a chalkboard. He had just been in the midst of explaining something called “string theory” to Regulus, who was meeting the man's gaze with an equally unimpressed look on his small face. The boy is well aware that his withering gaze has levelled much more powerful figures than his tutor. However, Andree Stravius is not just any man. He has been the tutor for both Sirius and Regulus for most of their lives and has had to put up with them and their parents long enough to be well acquainted with their family's behaviours.
“It may sound like a bunch of ‘mumbo jumbo’, young man, but I assure you there is much science backing this theory!” Stravius explains to Regulus, his French accent makes the muggle phrase sound even more ridiculous, especially in their current setting. Regulus had grown accustomed to his tutor’s odd way of speaking over the years. The man was a pure-blooded wizard (he’d have to be one to be allowed to even step foot in their house), but he had a passion for knowledge that he was determined to bestow upon as many young children in the wizarding world as he could. Before becoming the private tutor for Regulus and Sirius, he had run a small school for wizarding children that operated just outside of Diagon Alley for some time. However, he had been convinced nearly 10 years prior to work as a tutor for the Most Noble Ancient House of Black. Why he decided to give up his life’s work for two snot-nosed, spoiled, pure-blooded wizards was beyond Regulus.
“And why, pray tell Monsieur, are we learning about muggle theory?” Regulus questioned as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he did so. If his parents ever found out about this, it is very likely that Stravius would mysteriously “disappear” in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.
“Because, Master Regulus, knowledge is power. If you plan to become some powerful Lord someday, you will need to be educated in many different fields. And yes, even muggle studies,” Stravius cut Regulus off with a sharp glare, no doubt disrupting what would have been a truly scathing remark about what Regulus thought of muggles. “The muggles may not have magic, and they may not know much about the world we live in, but the same goes for us. They are years ahead of us in scientific theory.” The wiry, middle-aged wizard states. He turns around and begins scribbling on the chalkboard, his salt and pepper moustache twitching as it does when he is concentrating very hard.
Regulus sighs and leans against his desk, resting his head in his hand. He knows that he looks ridiculous, his round cheek smooshed up against his hand, and his curly brown hair ruffled from where he was running his hands through it out of frustration moments ago. If Sirius were here, the two of them would be passing notes back and forth while the older man's back was turned. Sirius’ notes would be riddled with caricatures of their tutor. But of course, his stupid brother had to go and attend Hogwarts without him for one whole year. Ridiculous, if you asked Regulus. What was he supposed to do for a year without Sirius? Moping around the house wasn’t an option, and hiding himself away in his room was turning out to be a dreadful way to spend his summer. Perhaps he’d find a hobby. Gardening? No, his mother would never approve of him tracking dirt through the house. Maybe he could convince Kreacher to spell him clean before entering the house. Drawing? His father would say that’s too girlish. He had heard them say it enough in regard to Sirius’ art. He could always begin to take his piano lessons more seriously. He loved playing the piano. But it was strictly forbidden from being played outside of lessons, his allotted 30 minutes of practice time each day, or while entertaining guests. His Mother hated the sound of the piano and only allowed her sons to learn it as it was “respectable”.
Regulus would have to put more thought into this after his lessons for the day had ended.
Almost as if on cue, Monsieur Stravius turned back around, clearly having just finished some long-winded explanation on string theory. “Does that make sense?” The man asked Regulus. The young boy nodded once, hoping his expression looked focused and studious, rather than unfocused. Judging by the way that Stravius’ shoulders slumped and the unimpressed look he fixed on Regulus, the latter must have won out.
“Regulus, mon petit bout, I know that this is not part of our regular curriculum,” Stravius explains with a sigh, putting down his chalk and making his way to Regulus’ desk.
“Yes, as we are all well aware, monsieur.” Regulus snaps, scowling due to the nickname. He was not little.
“But, I know that these extra studies will benefit you. You can do great things, I just know it,” The older man leans against the wall next to Regulus’ desk, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed manner. But Regulus can tell by the tension behind his eyes that he is far from relaxed at this moment. “You can do more than what your family expects of you.” He further explains. Regulus quirks an eyebrow and smirks, leaning back in his chair and looking into the man's eyes.
“You have no idea what is expected of me, vieil homme,” Regulus countered. Stravius smiles softly and nods at Regulus.
“You are right, I do not know what they expect of you. But I know that whatever they do expect of you, you can do better. You are better,” With that, Stravius strides back over to the blackboard and picks up his chalk again. “Now, how about we return to our discussion on ley lines? I think that is more to your liking, non?” Regulus nods once, a small crinkle in his brow showing that he is still contemplating what his tutor had just said to him. He is getting far too comfortable in his position, Regulus thinks to himself. He finds himself longing for his older brother once again. He would know exactly how to set Stravius straight.
*****
Regulus,
I can’t believe you got Mother to just let you go! Just like that! If I were home, you know it would have been at least 10 lashings for me, mate. That’s absolutely legendary. Typical Reggie, showing me how it’s done with Maman and Papa!
I miss you.
You are going to love it here, Reg. It is the coolest! Even better than it sounds in the books. Ghosts everywhere, moving staircases, poltergeists, hell even the teachers are cool. I can’t wait for you to come here next year, we are going to rule the hallways. Watch out world, here we come! They won’t know what hit ‘em.
I’ll introduce you to all my new mates when you get here. They’re really great, I think you’ll love the boys. I’ll tell you more about them when I come back for Christmas.
I can’t wait to see you.
I know that Maman has been… displeased with me ever since I was sorted. Reg, I promise that I didn’t plan this. I was thinking maybe I’d get sorted into Ravenclaw, it completely surprised me when the sorting hat placed me in Gryffindor. I even tried to ask it to change its mind but McGonnagal, the old bat, took the hat off before I could really try. But I know that means nothing to Maman and Papa. Hell, maybe it doesn’t even mean anything to you either, Reg. But I swear, I didn’t do this to be rebellious or whatever it is Maman thinks. I know you won’t make the same mistake though - we all know you’re a Slytherin through and through! Cunning, ambitious, way too smart for your own good. Maybe you and I will be able to end the stupid rivalry between the two houses!
Anyways, I won’t bore you anymore with my blathering! Do let me know how everything is going back at home, mon etoile. I worry.
Cheers!
Sirius
Regulus crumpled up the letter that Sirius had written to him and set it aside to be thrown into the fire later. He didn’t want to risk Maman finding it. He’d have to send Sirius a letter telling him to be more careful. The idiot had mentioned making friends in Gryffindor. Nothing good could come out of him befriending blood traitors.
Regulus stands from the desk in his room and heads for his bedroom door, planning on getting rid of the letter as quickly as possible.
As Regulus makes his way down to the drawing room, he passes by the door to his father's study, doing his best to ignore the hushed conversation happening on the other side of the door. But he can’t help but come to a stop only a foot away from it when he hears his mother’s voice raise an octave higher, “How are we expected to get into his good graces with a Gryffindor as the heir?” Curious, Regulus takes a slow step backwards and stands outside the door with bated breath. If they were to catch him eavesdropping the punishment would put him out of commission for days. But he can’t help himself. He’s always had a soft spot for his brother.
“The Black Family name should hold enough power without him, dear. Don’t put too much weight on the foolish actions of a child,” He hears his father's quieter, gruff voice.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Orion,” His mother admonishes. “Sirius will be the face of our family in less than six years, we cannot let his missteps hold our family back.” The last part is spat out venomously. “We need to think of our other option.”
There is a moment of silence before Orion speaks again, “You mean Regulus?” He asks, the shock apparent in his voice. “Walburga, he is the second-born son. We cannot expect him to carry the family name the way we expect it of Sirius.” Regulus tenses, not liking where this conversation has turned.
“Of course we can. He is still a Black. And the exact reason we had a second son - in case the first was a failure.” Regulus has to hold his hand against his mouth to stop himself from making a noise as his mother says this. Is that all he is to them? The spare child? He startles as he hears footsteps moving towards the door, quickly collecting himself and taking a few steps down the hallways, hoping to put enough distance between himself and the door to avoid looking suspicious. As the door opens, he hears his mother harshly whisper something else to his father before she exits the study.
“It was never supposed to come to this, but I fear if we don’t act soon we won’t have another choice. We must prepare the boy to be presented to the inner circle. Soon.”
*****
Regulus spent the next few days deep in thought. He secluded himself in the library, tucking himself up onto the window seat with a book whose cover he didn’t even bother to look at.
His parents would start… what, preparing him to be the heir? Instead of Sirius? Regulus knew they were angry about Sirius being sorted into Gryffindor. His mother had gone on a rampage big enough that the portraits had all fled from their frames, finding refuge elsewhere in the house. If only Regulus had the same opportunity. His mother had cornered him at one point and made it clear that, under no uncertain terms, was he to be sorted into any house other than Slytherin. Regulus had just barely managed not to stutter as he told his mother he would make sure not to let the family down.
Damn, Sirius. Why did he have to always make things so difficult for them? Regulus knew that their parents could be… a lot. But still, it was much easier to just go along with what they asked for, rather than face the consequences of disobeying them. And Sirius knew they had high expectations of him as the heir. Regulus would certainly have to speak with him in depth about this when he returned for Christmas.
Now Regulus was going to have to try to somehow be better? He wasn’t sure how that was possible, he already worked so hard to be good for Maman and Papa. Perhaps this new responsibility just means showing his face at more events. He had only had to attend a few in the past - it was always Sirius who got dragged to them. Instead, Regulus normally got to stay home, which always worked in his favour as it meant he could spend time with Kreacher. The two of them would spend the whole evening in the kitchens, Kreacher explaining all of the different tasks he had to perform for the family while he made Regulus hot cocoa. He would be sad to part with those calm evenings.
Regulus huffs out a petulant sigh and leans his head against the window, staring forlornly out at the back garden. This was one of the best views of it in the house, capturing the magically expanded garden beautifully. Regulus spent many days here watching the leaves on the trees flutter in the wind as bumblebees lazily flew to and fro each flower. He and Sirius liked to sneak into the library late at night just to get a good look at the stars above the treetops. Sirius had taught him exactly where to find each of their stars.
Ever since Sirius had departed for Hogwarts, Regulus found himself seeking out his star more often than not, comforted just by the sight of it. It made him feel closer to his brother, thinking that he could be looking up at the very same star at that moment.
Regulus’ daydreaming is broken as Kreacher pops into the space next to him. “Master Regulus,” the old house elf croaks, lowering himself into a bow. “The Master and Mistress have requested your presence in the drawing room.”
“Thank you Kreacher, I will be right down,” Regulus replies, already standing from his spot by the window and stretching his stiff muscles. He must have sat there for longer than he thought. Kreacher bows once more and then disapparates from the room, probably back down to the drawing room to report back to Regulus’ parents. Not wanting to keep them waiting, Regulus hurries down to the drawing room, only slowing once he is just outside of the drawing room.
Drawing himself to his full height, Regulus walks into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. Coming to stand in front of his parents, both sat in matching regal wingback chairs, Regulus bows his head to both of them, keeping his gaze locked on the carpet in front of them.
“Maman, Papa, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He asks, his tone both respectful and cool. Never too good to sound over-eager.
“Thank you for coming to see us Regulus,” Orion starts, tilting his head towards his son. He locks his icy blue eyes on Regulus who in turn tries not to shiver. It is rare that he is the sole focus of his father. He had never bothered to pay Regulus too much attention before, preferring to focus on Sirius. Regulus supposed that would very likely be changing soon. “Your mother and I wish to extend an invitation to you.” The man continues. He looks over to Walburga, nodding at her to continue.
“Regulus, we would like you to come with us to the Ball that the Lestranges will be holding for Samhain,” It is Walburga’s turn to focus her attention on their youngest son, her steely grey eyes locking in on him. Regulus can’t help but feel like prey while under her sole focus. “We have already ordered a new set of dress robes for you, they will be arriving this evening. Madame Malkins will be sending her assistant with them to get them fitted. You will need to look your very best if you are to attend with us.” She finishes.
“Maman, Papa, thank you for the invitation. It would be an honour to attend the Ball with you,” The young boy graciously smiles at his parents, bowing his head to them again. His mother lifts her hand to him and he takes two steps before kneeling before her and placing a kiss on her family ring. She gives his cheek a gentle pat and a barely-there smile before he stands back up and crosses over to his father to do the same.
As soon as Regulus has been excused, he leaves the drawing room as quickly as he can and makes his way up to his bedroom. Once behind the safety of his room, he lets out a deep breath and slides down to the ground. Despite hearing his parent’s conversation the other day, he hadn't expected to be brought to a gala of all things so quickly. He had assumed maybe a luncheon, maybe even a dinner, to ease him into it. But a gala? This was far more daunting than he had been anticipating.
As Regulus sat on his bedroom floor, he couldn’t help but wish with every bone in his small body that his brother was there. He had never attended a gala without Sirius. He didn’t even know who to talk to. He would usually fly under the radar the whole time, operating under the guise of being the “shy younger brother”. Something told him that wouldn’t be an option this time.