The Summer After First Year
The Black family dining room was as grand as ever—heavy silver candelabras flickering against dark green walls, the long mahogany table set with pristine, enchanted silverware that never needed polishing. The Black sisters were spending a month at Grimmauld over the summer, then they would be spending their days in France. Then when their Grandfather got tired of them, he would take them to the Korean countryside with their Maternal Grandmother.
The smell of roasted pheasant and buttery vegetables filled the air, but Hyacinth barely touched her plate.
It had been like this all summer.
Walburga and Soleil carried most of the conversation, discussing the upcoming pureblood galas and which families had fallen in and out of favor. Cygnus gave his usual sharp commentary, commending Andromeda’s academic achievements while scrutinizing Bellatrix’s recent endeavors, even though she barely reacted. Narcissa, ever composed, listened attentively, offering the occasional, well-placed agreement.
And Sirius and Hyacinth?
Nothing.
They sat two seats apart, not looking at each other, not speaking, as if Hogwarts had never happened.
Regulus noticed. He always noticed.
Hyacinth could feel his curious gaze flick between them, his brows slightly furrowed as if trying to decipher what had gone wrong. In past summers, Sirius and Hyacinth had been inseparable, whispering plans of mischief between mouthfuls of food, hiding grins behind their goblets of wine. Now, the silence stretched between them like a chasm, heavy and impossible to ignore.
“So,” Walburga’s sharp voice cut through the quiet, “Bellatrix, have you heard from Rodolphus Lestrange recently?”
Bellatrix exhaled sharply through her nose, cutting at her meat with unnecessary force.
Hyacinth glanced at Sirius, hoping he’d find something to say about the situation. But he didn’t even glance her way. He just took another sip of his drink, as if nothing had changed. And maybe, Hyacinth thought bitterly, that was the worst part.
-
Grimmauld Place had never felt so suffocating.
Hyacinth had spent the last week moving around the house in careful, calculated steps, avoiding crossing paths with Sirius unless absolutely necessary. If she heard him in the sitting room, she stayed in the library. If he lingered in the kitchen, she took her tea upstairs.
But the worst part was that Sirius did the same thing.
One afternoon, as she was making her way up the staircase, she nearly collided with him at the landing.
They both stopped abruptly.
Hyacinth froze, fingers curling at her sides. Sirius looked at her for half a second—just long enough for something unreadable to flicker across his face, before stepping aside and continuing past her without a word.
Her throat tightened, but she kept walking.
That night, as she passed by Sirius’s bedroom door, she hesitated. In past summers, she would’ve knocked. He would’ve let her in, and they would’ve talked for hours about Hogwarts, about the professors, about what they were looking forwar to.
But now?
She swallowed down whatever words wanted to surface and walked away.
-
Regulus had clearly had enough.
“I’m bored,” he declared one evening, flopping dramatically into the sitting room. “Let’s play chess.”
Hyacinth barely looked up from her book. “You and I can play.”
“No,” Regulus said stubbornly. “All three of us. You and Sirius on one team, I have been getting better”
Hyacinth stilled. She wasn’t the only one. Sirius, lounging lazily in the armchair across from her, visibly tensed. Regulus didn’t give them a chance to protest. He grabbed the chess set and set it up himself, pulling them both toward the board with absolute determination.
They played in silence at first. Sirius moved their knight. Regulus countered with his bishop. Regulus, watching intently, sighed dramatically. “This is boring. Talk.”
Sirius snorted. “We’re playing.”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “We used to talk when we played. What, Hogwarts made you both go mute?”
Hyacinth bit the inside of her cheek. Sirius didn’t answer. But then, Regulus made an absolutely terrible move.
Sirius and Hyacinth immediately reacted.
“You’re joking,” Sirius scoffed.
“Reg, that was the worst move I’ve ever seen,” Hyacinth added, amused.
Regulus smirked. “Ah. So you can talk.”
Sirius threw a cushion at him. Hyacinth huffed out a small laugh despite herself.
And just like that, the silence cracked.
-
One afternoon, while lounging in the drawing room, Regulus suddenly blurted out:
“I can’t believe I’ll be going to Hogwarts with you both soon.”
Hyacinth blinked. Sirius’s head snapped up from where he was absentmindedly flipping through a book. For a moment, the tension melted away.
Hyacinth grinned, shifting to sit up properly. “Finally. No more Grimmauld Place all by yourself.”
Regulus scoffed. “You say that like it was fun without you two here.”
Sirius smirked and ruffled Regulus’s hair. “Don’t worry, baby brother, we’ll make sure you have the full Hogwarts experience.”
Hyacinth chuckled. “Just don’t listen to Sirius if he tells you to hex someone”.
Regulus looked between them, clearly relieved that they were talking again. “I think I’ll manage.”
Sirius opened his mouth to say something else, then hesitated. None of them mentioned what house Regulus would be sorted into.
And for the first time all summer, Hyacinth and Sirius locked eyes—truly, properly—and understood each other without saying a word.
-
A few days before she was set to leave for France, Hyacinth sat at her desk in her bedroom, and she found a book lying there. Not just any book it was a rare, advanced dueling guide she had wanted to borrow from Sirius but never got the chance.
She ran her fingers over the worn cover, then glanced toward the door.
No note. No explanation.
But she knew. And later that evening, when she brought tea into the parlor, she casually set an extra cup next to Sirius before sitting down. She didn’t say a word when he took it. He didn’t thank her. But he drank it anyway.
And across the room, Regulus watched them both, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.