Chapter 6
Regulus was practically vibrating with excitement as he and his mother arrived at Platform 9 ¾. December 20th, 1971 couldn’t have arrived sooner. The youngest of the family had spent the past few weeks intermittently placed under silencing spells. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason as to when Walburga chose to inflict it upon him, but he couldn’t help but hope that things would be a bit better with Sirius home. It would be so much easier to behave if he could just have the reprieve of being able to spend time with his older brother.
Luckily his mother had decided his behaviour the night before had been good enough that he was allowed to accompany her to the platform to pick up Sirius. Regulus hadn’t been able to hide the grin that had spread across his face as soon as his mother had informed him of this, however, he was quick to smother it.
“I must say, Mistress Black,” A gentle voice speaks from behind Regulus and his mother as they approach the train platform. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. I would have expected you to send one of your house elves to pick up your eldest.”
The two members of the Black family turn to see none other than Regulus’ uncle, Cygnus Black, standing behind them. To say Regulus was shocked was an understatement. It was highly unusual for the man to do something as pedestrian as picking up his children for the winter holidays.
“I could say the same to you, brother,” Walburga says, turning her nose up to her younger brother. “It’s not like you to do something so… human,” She sneers. Be it known that the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black was not above sibling rivalries. If anything, they had mastered it. Regulus was glad that he and Sirius hadn’t let something like titles get in their way.
“I am afraid Druella insisted on it this year, it being Andromeda’s last year and all,” Cygnus replies. Something wicked crosses Walburga’s face as soon as he says this and Regulus begins slowing inching away from the two siblings. He didn’t think this particular family reunion was going to go very well.
“Hmm, very curious. Are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the people Andromeda has been acquainting herself with?” At the murderous look that crosses Cygnus’ face, Regulus assumes that his mother has just hit a sore spot. Deciding to make himself scarce, lest he be brought into this discussion, Regulus creeps away from his mother, thanking Circe that she is distracted enough that she doesn’t notice her youngest child's disappearing act.
Once he is several paces away from his mother, Regulus heaves a sigh of relief. He had a feeling things were about to get messy with the two siblings and he did not want to be caught in the cross fires of their curses. It wasn’t unusual for meetings with his mother and her brothers to end in flinging hexes.
Finding himself a nice pillar to hide behind, the young boy finally takes a chance to take in his surroundings - the last time he was here he was so caught up in Sirius leaving that he didn’t get a chance to properly look around. All around the platform, there were families clumped together in small groups, waiting for their children to come home for the holidays. Regulus couldn’t help but notice that most of them looked quite excited. Just a few steps away from him a charming-looking elderly couple appeared to be practically jumping with joy. The man had a large smile plastered to his weathered face, and the woman kept anxiously running her hands over her long black plait in a nervous gesture. Regulus found himself biting his lip as he tried not to smile. Their nervously excited nature was contagious, and he soon found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet as he urged the train to hurry up so he could see his brother.
Almost as if on cue, a loud whistle could be heard nearing the station. Teeming with excitement, Regulus pushed his way through the forming crowd to be closer to the edge of the platform. At last, the train pulls into the station and the doors are flung open, children pouring out of them in masses as they rush to find their families. Regulus is nearly knocked off his feet by the swarm of students, but he catches himself at the last moment and stands his ground in the mass of bodies, craning his neck to look for the familiar mop of black curls that were nearly identical to his own.
“Maa, Papa!!” Someone to Regulus’ side calls and he is roughly jostled out of the way as a lanky boy with a wild head of dark hair and crooked glasses throws himself at the older couple Regulus had seen earlier. “Wotcher, James!” An intimidatingly tall boy with fluffy tawny hair and wicked-looking scars calls from behind him, a shorter pudgier boy with sandy blonde hair trailing after him.
Huffing and straightening out his waistcoat, Regulus turns back to the train to continue his search for Sirius.
“Reggie!” Before Regulus can even process what is happening, he is being scooped into a crushing embrace.
“Sirius,” He gasps out, wrapping his arms around his older brother, a giant grin splitting his face. After a moment, he is being pushed back and finally, after three long months, there is his big brother. He has grown taller and his hair, which is normally cropped close to his head like Regulus’ own, has begun to grow out in soft curls.
“Your hair!” Regulus exclaims, bringing his hand up to his brother's wild hair. It looks as if he’s just rolled out of bed with the way it is sticking up on one side.
“Oh bugger,” The elder Black brother says, bringing a hand up to try to comb it back into place. “I told James to lay off but he pulled me into a headlock right before we left the train,” The boy says with a self-conscious smile. Regulus snorts inelegantly at this but he can’t help but feel mildly jealous. His own hair is practically glued to his head with all the hair potion and combing their mother had subjected him to before they left. His brother, on the other hand somehow manages to make the wild hair-doo look effortlessly cool.
“You’d better cut that language out, Maman is bound to be nearby,” Regulus warns however, he can’t seem to wipe the large smile off his face, even at the mention of their overbearing mother. Sirius groans at this, throwing his head back dramatically.
“Don’t remind me. I was so excited to see you I nearly forgot what that entailed.” He says with a frown.
“I missed you,” Regulus says quietly. And then Sirius smiles and it’s like seeing the sun for the first time after a long winter.
“I missed you too, mon etoile,” Sirius says with a smile, wrapping his arm around the younger brother's shoulders. “Now, let’s find Maman. Before she finds us.” Both boys shiver at the thought before quickly making their way through the crowd. Regulus leads the way to the back of the platform where he had last seen their mother and Uncle.
“I must warn you,” Regulus begins as they get nearer. “Uncle Cygnus is here.” Sirius straightens at this, a peculiar expression coming across his face.
“Poor Andromeda,” He mutters under his breath. Before Regulus can question what he means by this, they spot their family. Their mother is standing to the side of their uncle and cousins with a smug look on her face. Andromeda and Narcissa appear to have joined the family reunion by now and Andromeda appears to be having a very tense conversation with her father.
Andromeda, the second born out of the three sisters, always seemed to be a sort of black sheep of the family. The eldest, Bellatrix, took after Walburga’s side of the family with her fierce wickedness and strict adherence to family traditions. Narcissa, the youngest, was softer than the other two, preferring to stick quietly to the background. It was important not to mistake softness with weakness, however, as she was just as cold as the rest of the family and staunchly believed in their family's blood-purist ideologies. Andromeda, in her own words, couldn’t give a rat’s ass about blood purity. Regulus could remember her believing in it when she was younger, but at some point a few years ago she seemed to have changed. She began outwardly questioning their family's morals at every chance she got and very loudly insisted she would not be marrying whomever it was her parents chose for her. It was cause for some very… interesting family gatherings.
“Maman,” Sirius says, interrupting Regulus’ train of thought. This word seems to snap Andromeda and Cygnus out of whatever quiet conversation they were having. Before his very eyes, Regulus watches as Sirius goes from the rogueish older brother he had seen just a moment ago, to the heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. His back straightens, his expression shutters into one of cool indignation, and Regulus swears even his hair seems to flatten into something more presentable.
“Sirius,” Walburga greets cooly, her mouth twisting downward in disapproval. She graces Sirius with only a moment's attention, before turning towards Cygnus. Regulus sees something flash in Sirius’ eyes as he deflates minutely. “We will see you for Christmas, Cygnus,” She says in farewell before turning back to her children and gripping them by their shoulders. Regulus just barely hides a wince as she grabs them in an iron-like vice. This is all the warning he gets before he feels the hook-like feeling of disapparition in his belly and, with a crack, they find themselves back in the entry hall of Number 12 Grimauld Place. It is only with the grace of Merlin himself that Regulus manages to stay upright after the sudden apparition.
Before either boy can even gain their bearings, Walburga is gripping Sirius by his ear and dragging him out of the entry hall and up the stairs.
“Maman!” Sirius cries out as he stumbles over his feet and smacks his knees against the stairs.
“Get. Up.” Walburga grinds out, not even turning around to look at her fallen son.
“It hurts,” Sirius whimpers as he pulls himself to his feet.
“I don’t care,” The woman says cooly, this time grabbing Sirius by his hair and dragging him up the stairs. Regulus can do nothing but stand there dumbly and watch his brother be literally dragged kicking and screaming up to their mother’s study.
After the initial shock has passed, Regulus begins walking up the stairs on shaky legs. He can feel sweat beading down his brow as he makes his way down the hall and to the door to Walburga’s study, recalling the feeling of glass cutting into his hands and the cold sting of silver cutlery on open wounds. Dread pooling in his stomach, the boy slowly peaks around the doorway and can’t help but let out a quiet cry of despair at what he sees.
Sirius has his back turned to him, facing one of the tall bookshelves filled with priceless family heirlooms. His school robes have been discarded and he is in nothing but his shirt and trousers. Slowly, almost as if in slow motion, Regulus watches in horror as the once white shirt slowly begins to turn red as their mother casts a silent diffindo on the boy's shaking back.
“You have shamed our family,” Walburga drawls, somehow managing to sound bored as she tortures her own flesh and blood. “You have befriended blood traitors and tarnished the family name,” Sirius’ shoulders wrack up and down in silent sobs as she says this. She must have already cast a silencing spell on him before coming into the study.
“Siri!” Regulus cries out, throwing himself into the room and at his brother's feet. “Maman, stop! You’re hurting him!” With a loud crack, Regulus is thrown away from Sirius and into a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, several books and dusty heirlooms crashing down on top of him.
“Get out!” Walburga bellows, the strength of her voice shaking the very walls of the room. With a hiccough, Regulus pulls himself to his feet and stumbles out of the room. As soon as he crosses the threshold, the door slams shut behind him with powerful wandless magic, the sound echoing throughout the entire house. Falling to his knees with a sorrowful groan, Regulus begins dry heaving as the image of Sirius’ back being shredded burns itself into his retinas.
His own mother . How could she! Regulus and Sirius were all too familiar with their parent’s outdated forms of punishment but neither of them had ever been lashed . Regulus couldn’t help but wish it were him behind that door being punished if it meant not having to have that image replay in his mind over and over again. He didn’t think he would ever be able to unsee that.
“Master Regulus,” Kreacher’s ancient voice croaks from beside him. Lifting his head from where it had fallen on the hardwood floor of the hallway, Regulus looks up at him, tear tracks staining his round cheeks. “Sir, you needs to be leaving the hallway. Mistress Black will not wants to be seeing you here,” The house elf says as he begins ushering Regulus to his feet.
“No, Kreacher!” Regulus gasps out, grabbing one of the house elfs leathery hands in his own. “You need to get Sirius out of there, Kreacher. She’s going to kill him!” He wails, fresh tears falling from his eyes as he stares down at Kreacher desperately.
“Master Regulus, sir, Kreacher can’t be doing anything,” The house elf says mournfully. “Mistress Black has forbidden me from helping the young Masters when they’s is being punished. Please, Master Regulus, let Kreacher get you some food,” Kreacher all but begs, beginning to lead Regulus back down the hall by the hand that is still grasping his own. Regulus follows on numb feet, eyes unseeing as he is led down to the kitchens.
Sometime later, after Regulus has eaten a sandwich that Kreacher made for him that tasted like sawdust in his mouth, the boy makes his way up to Sirius’ room. Kreacher had already told him that their parents would be dining by themselves that night, having already instructed Kreacher to feed Regulus before sending him to bed early. Sirius was not to be served dinner, but Regulus had managed to sneak half of his sandwich into his pocket for the boy. He was certain Kreacher had noticed it, but the house-elf wisely chose to keep his mouth shut on the matter.
With shaking hands, Regulus pushes open the door to Sirius’ room, preparing himself for the worst. For all he knows, he could be walking in to find his brother dead on the floor.
To his relief, he does not find Sirius dead. Instead, he finds him lying on his stomach in his bed in his blood-soaked shirt and trousers.
“Sirius?” Regulus whispers as he eases the door shut, careful not to let it make a noise as it latches.
“Reg?” Sirius’ voice is barely louder than a breath, but Regulus nearly bursts into a new bout of tears upon hearing it. Lurching forward on shaky legs, Regulus crosses the room and collapses on the ground beside Sirius’ bed, grasping his older brother's hand in his own.
“Oh, Sirius!” Regulus sobs, burying his head next to Sirius’ arm in the soft red duvet. “I thought she was going t-to kill you,” He whispers, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
“Oh, Reg,” Sirius rasps, lifting the hand that isn’t being held in Regulus’ death grip to ruffle the younger boy's hair. “She would never risk losing her heir,” He jokes with a barely-there smile.
“That’s not funny, Sirius,” Regulus mumbles, head still shoved into his older brother's blankets. A moment of silence lapses before Regulus feels Sirius’ hand in his hair again, this time gently brushing it back from his forehead rather than tousling it.
“I’m okay,” Sirius says again, voice still far too weak. Regulus lifts his head to shoot a glare Sirius’ way, although he’s sure it doesn’t come off as cross as he would hope due to the drying tear tracks on his cheeks.
“Kreacher!” Regulus calls. Siriu’s eyes widen comically large and he begins to sit up in protest, before hissing in pain and falling back on his bed. Kreacher appears in the room with a crack, throwing a scowl Siriu’s way before bowing.
“Yes, sirs?” He croaks, glancing suspiciously between both boys.
“Could you please fetch me a basin of water, some clean rags, and some bandages?” Regulus asks the house-elf. Kreacher opens his mouth and begins to protest the request, surely something along the lines of being forbidden from helping Sirius, but Regulus cuts him off. “For me, please. You cannot - or will not - help Sirius, but surely you can fetch them for me,” This earns another scowl from Kreacher, but he acquiesces, ever so faithful to the youngest member of the family. After quickly dissapparating from the room, Kreacher reappears a moment later with all the items Regulus had asked for.
“Thank you, Kreacher,” Regulus says with a small smile as he collects the items and sets them gently down beside Sirius. “And -” He begins, turning back to the house-elf, “Do not tell Mother about this.” He says with a stern look. The house elf nods once, bows, and then disapparates without another word.
“You don’t need to help me, Reg,” Sirius says, lifting his head from his pillows to shoot the boy a meaningful look. “If Maman or Papa find out-”
“They won’t,” Regulus says firmly, “And I am going to help you, you idiot, so shut up.” With this, Regulus sits down on the mattress beside Sirius and begins the arduous task of peeling away his older brother’s blood-soaked shirt. Several minutes go by like this with no sound aside from Sirius’ hisses of pain and Regulus’ whispered apologies.
Once Sirius’ ruined shirt has been removed and Regulus has begun cleaning the long gashes on his back, Regulus takes a deep breath before asking the question that had been sitting heavy on his mind ever since September.
“How could you do this?” Sirius makes a questioning noise, fists clenched in his blankets so hard that his knuckles have gone white.
“What?” He grunts out, pain evident in his voice.
“How could you get sorted into Gryffindor?” Regulus elaborates. Sirius whips his head around, wincing in pain, and shoots a sharp look at Regulus.
“I didn’t do anything!” He protests. “And honestly, out of everyone in this dreadful house, I expected you to be on my side in this,” His voice cracks on the last word, grey eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I am on your side!” Regulus argues, doing his best to keep his voice down. “I have been on your side from the very beginning, Sirius, but you have no idea what Maman and Papa have been like ever since you were sorted into that house full of blood traitors.”
“I didn’t mean to, Reg, I swear. You have to believe me, I would have loved to have been sorted into Slytherin like the rest of the family. And the hat was going to sort me into Slytherin but the bloody thing decided at the last second not to,” Sirius explains, looking at his brother pleadingly. “It said something about my loyalty outshining my ambition or something like that. I didn’t even have a chance to ask it not to put me in Gryffindor before it was calling it out.”
Regulus takes a second to process this. While he would love nothing more than to argue the matter more, he found he couldn’t argue with the logic of the batty old sorting hat. There was hardly an ambitious bone in Sirius’ body, and he was fiercely loyal to those that he deemed worthy.
“Okay,” Regulus says after a moment and his older brother’s face lights up. “I’m not done talking to you about this, though. Especially not your dorm mates - but it can wait.”
“Thank you, Reg,” Sirius says, and it is so genuine that Regulus can’t find it within himself to be angry about the matter any longer. He was certain he would be getting more than an earful from his parents over the next several years anyway.
He hands returns his attention to Sirius’ back and can’t help but feel slightly queasy at the sight before him. With all the blood it had been hard to tell how bad it really was, but now that it was mostly cleaned, he was able to clearly see that there were several large, deep lacerations spanning from Sirius’ shoulder blade down his hips. It seemed that his mother must have done something to the wounds to keep him from bleeding out, however they were still sluggishly bleeding.
“Merlin, Sirius… I’ve never seen Maman that angry before,” Sirius grunts, his face now buried back in his pillows. “Are- are you okay?” At this, the older boy barks out a laugh.
“Just dandy, Reggie. In fact, I often enjoy having my back torn to shreds by my Mother as an early Christmas gift,” Sirius replies sarcastically. Regulus scowls at this as he reaches for the bandages on the side table.
“I was only asking, you berk,” He grumbles back. “You don’t make it any easier for yourself, you know,”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Sirius asks, voice muffled in his pillows.
“I mean, you could try listening to them for once. Maybe they wouldn’t treat you this way if you did.”
“I do listen to them, you know that,” Regulus snorts at this but doesn’t object. He was sure Sirius listened to them to the best of his abilities, it just seemed that his listening abilities when their parents were involved were few and far between.
“I know you make it worse for yourself so they don’t notice me as much,” Regulus says in reply, rather than voicing his thoughts. Sirius stiffens minutely upon hearing this but he doesn’t turn around or offer any sort of protest. “But you can’t always protect me, Sirius. And I don't want you to hurt yourself to protect me,” There’s no reply to this so, with a sigh, Regulus hands Sirius the half sandwich he had brought up with him and begins bandaging his brother’s back.
Once Sirius has finally been cleaned and bandaged and Kreacher has returned to take away the bloody rags and water, Regulus climbs into Sirius’ bed careful not to jostle his back.
“Wha-?” Sirius mutters, already half asleep now that his back is as patched up as it’s going to get.
“Budge over, you bed hog,” Regulus says in reply, trying to settle in the small space between Sirius and the wall. “I’m staying in here tonight. I don’t want you dying in your sleep.”
“‘M not dying,” Sirius slurs sleepily as he gently shimmies closer to the edge of the bed to allow Regulus some more room.
“You say that now, but who knows what you’d do with your penchant for dramatics,” Regulus retorts. Sirius snorts in reply, but no more is said on the matter and soon enough both boys find themselves falling into a deep, if not fretful sleep.