It wasn’t meant to happen this way. No, it wasn't supposed to happen at all.
It was his younger brother's funeral. And here Sirius was. To not show up would be to disappoint. The Black Family always had zero tolerance for disappointments. A star was gone and yet, no one was grieving.
He can’t recall the bigger details. One minute he was standing near the empty casket. No body was found to fill it up. And the next he was home, crying until he was puking. His little brother is gone. Died while trying to leave Voldemort. And yet no one cared. No one felt it as deeply in his heart as he did.
Even to the end, always a coward. It’s what Sirius wanted to believe and yet he couldn't, he knew the boy he raised. Regulus was gone, and yet in that room, they all looked at the empty box with disdain. Like they thought it was where Regulus deserved to be. Merlin, did it make Sirius’ blood boil. Not a single person in that room knew a thing about Regulus even if they were all related by blood. And yet they looked at his portrait like he had brought shame to an already tainted family name.
And Sirius couldn’t have that. How could the most noble of the Noble House of Black die, while everyone else got to live? It simply didn’t make sense. How was it that these vile people were still breathing, they still had air making its way to their lungs, blood pumping to their hearts and Regulus’ had stopped?
--
He went after Bellatrix first. She was the one who mentioned the Death Eaters to begin with. And she purposefully did it in front of Walburga, who she knew to be a blood purist. Sirius knows that was her goal all along. He played it out to fit her personality. Sadistic, homicidal, psychotic. It had to be as batshit crazy as she was. He took his time with the planning on this one. Figured he’d do things the Muggle way. Knives always were more painful and took the longest, if you knew where to hit. She was usually the most experienced in combat. But now? The lunatic was always too out of her mind to take notice when someone was following her. She sure knew how to hold up in a fight, but only if she was expecting it.
He’d started old-fashioned, a simple stunning spell. Knocked her right down and dragged her down an alley he knew to be practically abandoned during this time of night. She’d looked scared, and he almost would have felt bad for her if he hadn't been so full of rage. He’d made sure it had hurt. It had to hurt her as much as the hurt he felt in his heart. It may have taken hours, he lost track of time, but he somehow felt it had been over too quickly. There was fear in her eyes, tears streamed down her cheeks, and blood. So much blood. The air filled with the scent of iron. The knife was dull after he was done. That didn’t stop him from bringing it up and down. A repeated action that left him panting by the end. He’d cut off a lock of her hair, packed it into an envelope, and sent it to his dear cousin, Narcissa. A warning that she was next.
--
He knew Narcissa had gotten her warning when he approached Malfoy Manor and he was no longer allowed through the wards. They would’ve kept him out, but because of Remus and his full moon transformations, wards were pretty much his specialty. It wasn’t long before he was allowed entry (forcefully), making his way up the steps slowly, almost as if he was taunting them. Narcissa may think she did nothing wrong, but Sirius still remembers those dinner parties that always went horribly wrong. The ones where Narcissa had told both Sirius and Regulus to endure. That all the punishment, all the threats, were out of love. That a Black had to endure and endure and endure. Shape themselves to adapt, to take fault for any wrongdoing because their parents were never in the wrong. Sirius never bought it, but Regulus, Regulus thought she proved to have a point. Narcissa also turned a blind eye to the comments Lucius would make about her youngest cousin. Always either vulgar or derogatory. Calling him names and cornering him in places where he thought they were alone. Sirius wasn’t always around to step in, but he did so as often as he could. She had just had baby Draco. And he was not going to let another child bear the burden of this family name.
He wasn’t just going after Narcissa, no, he needed to get rid of Lucius too. Two birds with one stone. He knew he couldn’t take Lucius when it came to magic, so he’d use his physical build instead. And he knew that Narcissa would be hiding somewhere in that forsaken mansion, hiding as if that would stop him from finding her.
Lucius was quite easy to disarm, and even easier to take down with a couple of punches. For all his ego, he lacked physical strength, never having done anything with his own hands since the day he was born. Sirius had never used an Unforgivable. But he figured it would be fitting to use it for the first time on someone who should not be forgiven. Lucius was dead as soon as the spell hit.
He made his way around the Manor, looking in every crook and cranny, to find Narcissa. He had found her in a matter of half an hour. You’d think that someone who is a part of two very important families would have been hidden better, but here she was hidden at the very bottom of the cellar. No charms, no wards, no protection spells. Just her, little Draco in her arms sleeping soundly. She said nothing as Sirius raised his wand. She simply stood, lay Draco down on a small crib that was brought down and walked back to stand in front of Sirius. He looked into her eyes and saw what looked a little something like remorse, regret. He doesn’t know why it pissed him off all the more. Did she finally feel bad, after all these years? Did she want to regret all of it now? It was too late for apologies. Regulus was gone, he was never going to come back.
Sirius was going to make sure Narcissa never came back either. Make sure the Black name never came back to haunt anyone or their lives ever again. As soon as Sirius opened his mouth to speak the Unforgivable, her voice cut him off, “I’m sorry.”
Her death was quick. The sounds of the spell leaving his wand, the weight of her body hitting the floor and the soft breathing of baby Draco who still slept soundly, completely unaware of the world around him, were heard.
He took another strand of hair from both Narcissa and Lucius on his way out. He needed to give his warning out, that he was coming after Cygnus and Druella next. Uncle and aunt, and yet they still abused their “offspring” just as much. They never stopped Walburga either. Maybe if they had wanted change, Cygnus would have changed his ways and asked his sister to do the same. Maybe if Druella wanted change, she’d have treated her daughters with love and respect instead of dolls. Moving them as she saw fit, grooming them to be nothing but vessels of power and children.
He turned before leaving, landing his eyes on the silhouette of Draco. He’d raised his wands aiming it at him. He kept thinking about how it did do this, Draco wouldn’t have to bear the burden the name could have him carry. Just as the words for the spell were going to leave his lips, he thought of Regulus. Little baby Regulus, and how his first memory had Regulus in it. He hesitated, his hands now trembling, a sob wanting to make its way out of his lips. Of course, Sirius wasn’t a monster. He’d done horrible things, but what harm had the baby done? He was only a year or so old. He fisted his hair, frustrated, before making his choice. He wasn’t going to leave a child to rot in a cellar. So, Sirius gently took the baby into his arms and made his way upstairs. Remus and he would find a way to make things work for the little one. If it really came down to it, he knows Remus would be willing to help raise him. They would help Draco be better.
--
It might've been a day or two later when he went after Cygnus and Druella. Sirius had done nothing flashy this time. He’d walked up to the door of their home and knocked. A simple three times, and when it was clear they would not be answering the door, he blew it up. The funny thing is, he knew they wouldn’t answer. It was around four in the morning when he’d decided to show up, after all. He was aware his uncle and aunt would be asleep, thinking that they’d have more time before they met their end. Okay so, maybe he did do something flashy. Maybe even petty. However, it was what he was known for.
The explosion would surely wake them up and Sirius knew he didn’t have much time before both wizards would escape. He ran up the stairs, making his way towards the east side of the Manor where he knew the bedrooms were located. As he reached the final step a spell came flying at him. “Stay back!” He recognized the voice to be Rodolpus Lestrange, Bellatrix’s now widowed husband. Sirius laughs out of disbelief, “I didn’t think Cygnus and Druella would go so low as to bring someone else to fight their battles. You aren’t part of this Lestrange, so I suggest you leave this to family.” Sirius now hid behind the wall covering part of the stairwell. He couldn't get a clear shot at Lestrange without also putting himself at risk.
“You made this my issue as soon as you killed Bella, Black! I’m simply here to return the favor!” Sirius could hear Rodolphus’ footsteps, slowly making their way to where he was. “If anything I did you a favor, woman was batshit crazy!” Sirius slowly angled himself lower, making sure that when Rodolphus turned the corner he wouldn’t see Sirius aiming for his feet. “She was pregnant, you bastard!” His steps got closer and Sirius readied his wand. “She was a pregnant woman, a child would’ve carried on my family name!” Rodolphus finally stepped into Sirius’ field of vision and didn’t have much time to react before Sirius shot the killing spell at him.
He watched as Rodolphus’ body hit the ground and rolled down the stairs. Each thud was loud and clear, echoing through the quiet house. “I’m sick and tired of your family name bullshit.” Sirius turned on his heel and began to look for Cygnus and Druella, yet found no sign of them.
He sat on the couch in the drawing room, head buried in his hands. He pulled his hair out of frustration yet again and sighed. “I guess Rodolphus bought you enough time.” He quietly stood up and made his way to the front door of the Manor. He stepped off a distance before deciding that he might as well do something while he was here. He whispered a small ‘incendio’ and watched as the Manor engulfed in flames. Sirius stood there for a while before walking away to start looking for his aunt and uncle.
--
A week. It took him only a week. They had moved to their safe house in Toledo. This time, he wouldn't make any announcements. No more talking, he was going to mangle their bodies if he had to. Breaking in was easy, a simple spell and he was in. Their wards were also weak, so very weak. He was sure he’d caught Druella by surprise when she felt the tip of his wand press against her throat. “Sirius.” He smiled fakely. “What a pleasure it is to see you Aunt Druella.” He pressed his wand to her throat harshly, wanting to express how pleased he was. “Stop being a foolish child, end this tantrum. We always knew you were a disgrace, but this has gone far enough.” Sirius laughed, bitterly, coldly. “Cut the crap. What is it with you lunatics? Even when you're so close to dying all you lot think about is the family name.” The more Druella opened her mouth to speak, the more pissed off he became. This was getting ridiculous, the name, the disgrace, the lack of emotion. “Say hello to your daughters for me, will you?” And just like that she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even blink. She lay lifeless on the very ground she stood on only a couple of seconds ago.
Sirius wasted no time in going to look for Cygnus. He looked around and found him in his study. Sitting on his desk, writing in that navy blue journal he has always written in. “Not running anymore?” Sirius asked as he raised his wand. Cygnus said nothing, didn’t even lift his head, as he continued writing. “Nothing to say for yourself, Uncle?” Only the pen in Cygnus’ hand halted. “Get on with it Sirius.” Sirius scoffed. “Nothing? No apologies? No regrets? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING?!?” To say he was pissed was an understatement. Even more so when Cygnus looked at him with a bored expression and went back to writing. Sirius clenched his fists and ‘got on with it’, sending a spell directly at his uncle.
This one was violent. An explosion, bits and pieces of his uncle scattered everywhere. Blood splattered all over him and the surroundings. He didn’t feel as sick to his stomach as he thought he would. He looked around the room and saw the grey handkerchief Cygnus always carried around, on the ground. Sirius picked it up, wiped the blood off of his face, and left it on the desk, whispering a small “good riddance” before walking out of the room. Leaving behind his crime, his family, and Toledo.
--
They say it’s best to leave the best for last. And he did. Sirius had left his mother and father for the very end of it. He let them live so that they would know he was coming so that they would know it was him coming for them. Walburga and Orion Black, the root of the issue in his and his little brother's lives. Both parents were equally as emotionally unavailable. One parent abusive and one parent neglectful. Orion could not care for his children and Walburga cared too much in the wrong ways. He remembers it all, the cupboards, the bruises, the cuts, the hair on the floor, the screaming, the spells, all of it caused by his mother. And he remembers calling for his father, thinking maybe, just maybe Orion would help. But Orion would take a single glance and walk away as if it was a bother to watch his sons take punishments from their mother.
Sirius knew his parents would remain home. They didn’t run from danger, ever. When he entered Grimmauld Place he slowly made his way around, no longer concerned over which floorboards creaked. As he walked past the staircase, from the corner of his eye, he saw his mother standing there. She looked as well put together as she ever did, hair in a tight bun, long black gown, hands in front of her skirt, her back straight. And her voice still as sharp as before, “We placed our all into building a life for you, and this is how you repay us, Sirius. You’d think we’d have taught you to do better. And all of this? For what? Because your brother was a coward?” He snapped. “Regulus was not a coward! He was brave! He was the best of us! And you put him there, Walburga! You did!” She seemed slightly taken aback by the fact that he had called her by her name but quickly recovered. “I set him up on a path to success, it is not on me that he failed. He was a failure, as are you.” Sirius took quick steps up the stairs until he stood face to face with his mother. “Say what you want about me, but do not insult Regulus like you had any idea what was going on through his head. He was no son of yours, I am no son of yours. Regulus was mine. I raised him, and you, you fucked him up.” He was sure Walburga could feel the heat of his breath on her face. “You are a horrible excuse for a mother.” Now, he felt the heat of her palm as it struck him in the face.
There was silence, he was stunned. He was twenty, a grown man, and she still laid her hands on him. Like she had a right to. He doesn’t know what possessed him but he’d pushed her down the steps. Sirius is sure he’d heard a couple of things break on her way down, one was most definitely her neck seeing as when he reached the bottom she wasn't moving. There was no rise and fall of her chest. To be truthful, he didn’t want to go down and check whether or not her heart was still beating. So he climbed up instead.
He went up and up until he heard a familiar pop of magic. “Blood traitors are not allowed here. Much less you.” Sirius laughed bitterly before turning to face Kreacher. “I’m here on task and won't be long, you ugly wretch.” Kreacher frowned at him. “This task involves the death of countless members of the Ancient and Noble House of Black?” Sirius sighed, “Yes Kreacher, yes it does. It has to happen. They…” He swallowed the lump that was starting to form at the back of his throat. “,,, They have to die. They can’t be breathing when Regulus isn’t.” At the mention of Regulus, Kreacher let his guard down. Sirius would’ve taken this moment to kill the house elf too but he knew that was something Regulus would never forgive. As much as Kreacher and Sirius despised each other, the relationship Kreacher and Regulus had was much different. They looked after each other, they were friends, and they cared so deeply for one another. “All these deaths are for Master Regulus?” Kreacher looked at the floor as if contemplating something. Sirius nodded, “That’s right. This is for Regulus.” He waited for Kreacher to process the information. If it weren’t so quiet Sirius may have never heard what Kreacher said. “Carry on then, for Master Regulus,” before snapping his fingers and disappearing with a crack of magic.
Sirius continued his ascension up the stairs, stopping abruptly at Regulus’ bedroom. The door was open. Regulus’ door, which had always been closed, with a dramatic sign placed on the door, was now open. Sirius stepped closer to it, catching sight of Orion sitting on his bed. Sirius froze by the door frame, “What are you doing in here?” Orion sat where he did, a picture frame in his hand. “This is my house, I go where I please.” Orion moved his gaze off of the frame in his hands to look at Sirius. “Leaving me for the end? I’m honored, Sirius.” A scowl took over Sirius’ face. “Don’t be. This isn’t me being kind to you. I’m letting you do what you did one last time. Letting you sit back and watch, do nothing, as others suffer.” Orion's cold gaze somehow seems to turn colder. “You abandoned your family, just as you abandoned your kids. Very predictable, by the way. Walburga is down by the steps, I’ll be sure to lay you down next to her when I’m done. Wouldn't want you to stink up Reggie's room. That's your other son, just in case you were wondering.” Surprisingly, a small chuckle escapes Orion's mouth. “It was not my job to raise you, that was your mother's. As poorly as she did, I had to desire to interfere.”
“No desire to interfere? Even though your children were nine and seven calling for you to help them? No desire to interfere even though the first time I experienced a Crucio was when I was 11 because I had broken a glass? Are you taking the piss right now?” Orion remained silent, returning his gaze to the picture frame in his hands. “Your so-called son, the one you never acknowledged, is standing in front of you, ready to kill you, and all you do is sit there?” Orion looked back up, staring at Sirius now. “And what is it that you are killing for Sirius?” Sirius punches Orion in the face, an audible smack resounding in the room. “I’m killing this cursed family for my brother, for the child that you all threw down the drain. You all put him wherever he is right now, Merlin knows where that is since there was no body!” Orion hums in acknowledgment, “This seems more like it’s for you. Are you being selfish Sirius?” The question catches him off guard. Him? Being selfish when all he ever did for others was give? Sirius raises his hand, placing it directly at eye level with Orion, “Go to hell, Orion.” It’s a simple flash of green and there is no one else to go after. His task ends right then and there. Sirius stands here, feeling everything and nothing at all. He looks around Regulus’ room, facing the reality that Regulus is gone, that almost the entire Black Family is dead. There is no coming back from it.
--
It’s been four days. And he finds himself on his best friend's couch, staring off into space, recalling everything. It’s James who speaks first, “Pads? Can you talk to me? I mean I won't push you too but you’ve been gone for weeks. And…” He glances at Sirius cautiously, “And the entire Black Family is dead.” Sirius flinches at that. He knows that James knows. “You want me to be honest?” James nods his head. “I killed them all.” Sirius stares at his hands, they seem redder now. “They’re dead. Every single one of them.” He pauses and James looks at him, like he’s waiting for him to continue. “And not just the men. But the women… and children, too.” James reaches his hand out to hold Sirius’, “Padfoot-”, before James can continue Sirius keeps going. “They’re like animals. And I slaughtered them like animals.” He pulls on his hair again, fisting it so tight his knuckles turn white. “I hate them. They ruined everything. They took him from me. He’s gone. And I- I had to Prongs. Me- I-” James is hugging him suddenly, shushing him, telling him it’s okay. And Sirius knows it’s not, it’s not okay at all. But for the moment he lets himself believe it is. He lets himself believe he did the right thing.
They stay there for a while, holding each other. And he’s not sure when he drifts off but he wakes up the next morning with Remus sitting next to him, a protective arm wrapped around him, like he’s scared Sirius will go away again. James must've called him over, he knows they’ve both been frantic since his sudden disappearance. “Hey, sweetheart.” Remus breaks the silence and that’s all it takes for Sirius to burst out crying, sobs wracking themselves out of his chest. “Shhhhh, it’s okay. We’ll work it out. You gave me a scare. You disappear, leave a child at my doorstep and I’m hearing news of the Black family being murdered.” Remus’ grip seems to tighten. “Merlin, Pads. You gave me such a scare.” Sirius nods his head because he knows. He knows what he did, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. Because in the end, it was all for Regulus. For his little prince.