Epilogue; before his letter to school
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was known for many things. It is known for being one of (if not the) oldest magical bloodlines. It is known for producing the occasional insane person who is quickly written out of history. It is known for being all Slytherins. It is known for the children being quiet, well dressed, well behaved, only childlike in appearance and never in attitude.
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is known for being one of the most terrifying families in the entire wizarding world and no one will ever speak of why that is, you are just raised to fear them just as you are raised to fear giants and dementors. Of course that begs the question, what are the Blacks taught to fear? It surely could not be themselves. Some would joke it's a warm hearth at the end of the day, or a loving parent. Those in the family would agree, it is in fact the cold reality of family that they fear, it is in fact the awful sickening thought of home that brings them nightmares.
To an outsider of the family it is easy to forget that the family must start somewhere, that children are not born miserable but made to be that way. To someone who is not a part of the family it is easy to pretend these people come out cruel, they come from the womb insane and mean, they surely are not kind children who are quite literally cursed into this. It is impossible to believe that whilst the parents are evil now, beyond help, beyond understanding, they do have children, and the children have hardly any hope to come out of this family normal. It is easier for the average wizard to comfort himself with the thought that the children of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black start tearing feathers off their owls before they start to walk, the average kind hearted man can sleep at night with the image of a toddler playing pretend with fake poison at teatime, poisoning their toy pixies and house elves. Of course this is easier, what good man is comfortable with the thought that a little boy is out there pleading with his parents to hurt him instead of his brother, what mother is okay with the thought that there are children who go to bed wishing to pass in their sleep or travel forward in time to a place they don’t have to live in the house anymore. Of course the answer is there is no wizard and no mother who would rather think those things, there is no one out there who will admit the truth to themself.
To be born into the oldest pure blood family in Great Britain is to be born abandoned and neglected. Neglected by your family, neglected by the wizarding world.
Luckily, Sirius learned that early. He quickly avoided a life of disappointment in trying to achieve happiness, probably by age nine the lesson had properly set in.
He had been about eight when he first started to really realize that he was born to be an heir, not to be a boy. He was playing with the local magical children at his cousins’. Many magical families had all settled in the same area, The Blacks, of course, The Potters, The Malfoys, The McKinnons, The Longbottoms, and The Crouchs. All of these families happened to have kids all going to Hogwarts around the same time, most of them would be in Sirius’ year, whilst the Crouch’s son would be in his brother’s. Oftentimes when playing, the children would start to have their own version of adult conversation, regurgitating the prim and proper language their parents used to discuss things that were much more digestible to seven and nine year olds.
James had said, with his utmost poshest voice, trying to sound like his father in a business meeting, less said, more declared, that he “shan’t marry someone just because of their blood status,” and went on to punctuate it with: “I will marry for happiness, like my parents, I will not end up unloved because of the blood.” Of course back then, when they’re nine, none of them understood the weight of their words, none of them realized what blood purity meant, none of them understood that as part of these noble magical families they were to produce offspring. How could they understand it? The boys’ voices were still high and the girls were still flat, they were much too young to understand their purpose as nobility.
Plus, most of these children would not be treated like their offspring were gold, it was only a small handful that would have that fate. Sirius, Pandora, Regulus, Marlene, those were the only ones who would ever have to face pressure for who they marry and have children with.
It was during this fateful conversation that Sirius realized this.
It was during this conversation when his friends threw disregard and disgust at blood purity that they did not understand that Sirius realized he was the only one there that knew that magical blood weighed more than dirty blood. Of course his silly friends who were not heirs did not consider dirty blood when discussing their futures, none of them sat for lectures on blood traitors who had been wiped from their family trees, not even his brother had to endure such lectures with their father. One pure blood wizard was worth far more than all the Weasleys and Prewetts there were, as they married muggles and half bloods. That was simply the way of the world, when they all got to Hogwarts Sirius was sure that this lesson would be taught, what were the classes on magical history for if not to stress the importance of magical nobility?
To be quite clear, Sirius did not think himself better than his friends, or less pure old magic families, he didn’t think his family was better than them either, he simply knew this all to be true. It was true that the more pure the blood, the more powerful a witch or wizard you would be, families like the Prewetts did not possess the same natural ability. Sirius was still so young, how could he question what he was taught if the people teaching him were so truly biased? The books he had access to were biased, the people teaching him were more so, it wasn’t his fault he felt this way while so uneducated.
Really it just proved how deeply unloving his family was that he was taught all this and still did not feel very adequate in any regard, he hardly felt worthy of his peers, let alone better than them. Of course, everyone expected him to see himself above them, so he had already learned that as the heir, not as a boy, he must act like he believed himself better than others. This was not a hard act, not because it came naturally to him, but because he had so many role models. He was sure no one in his family felt they belonged in the shoes they filled, they all showed moments of smallness, moments of weakness, it was easy to learn how to mask it.
At eight he had everyone around him convinced that he truly thought he was above them, even James thought he felt this way, Sirius was sure the only person that knew better was his brother.
During this conversation that was far beyond their maturity, they were sitting in the least prim and proper position a gaggle of magical kids could be in, the boys all had their pants pulled to their knees, the girls all had their skirts pooled under them, all so they could get their feet in the water of the creek that stretched behind Malfoy Manor and The Potter’s Castle, all shoes and socks abandoned haphazardly under a tree. It was the turn of summer into fall, one of the last warm days before the mornings would become too chilly for play. All the kids who still went to Hogwarts had just gone a few weeks ago, now the children had the run of the magical countryside.
Their positions made the maturity of the conversation laughable, the Black brothers splashing each other intermittently (“Sirius, I will tell father if you ruin my tie,” “Boys your age shouldn’t even be wearing ties,” was heard bickered under breath whilst others continued to talk), the girls were taking turns teaching each other different braids, and James was making a show that he could actually stand the cold water up to his knees, Frank seemed to be the only one interested in not ruining his clothes and truly kept himself as deep as his ankles at most.
“Personally, I just hope I marry someone I know,” Sirius said in response to James, “My cousin, Bella, she didn’t meet her husband until three weeks before the wedding.” He knew already he was being quite hopeful, but felt as the eldest boy there might be a real chance that he does get a choice in who he marries, even if it is for blood and not love. As long as it wasn’t another priss from France he was pretty sure he didn’t mind too much.
“Well I want to actually get a say in who I marry,” Marlene spoke up, “Witches not getting a choice is so old fashioned, don’t you think, Dora?”
The thing about the youngest Malfoy, is she couldn’t hear, and no magic seemed to fix it (rumor had it that the Malfoys even tried muggle help), so it took a few moments before she responded, as Frank had to use his hands to tell her what had been said (he was the only one who knew how to talk with his hands, other than Pandora, the others all only knew a little of it). Once she had gathered it all, she nodded, moved her hands to respond, and Frank was her voice. “She says she agrees with Marlene, and adds that she thinks blood purity is a ridiculous concept that will go out of style before too long,”
Sirius would laugh, he’s heard and sat for too many lectures about why blood purity matters, about why he must care. He’s heard too many conversations between his cousins debating the topic, he’s seen too many punishments for thinking exactly how Pandora thinks. How she can think that way as a Malfoy, Sirius didn’t understand, but he supposed she must do a lot more reading than the rest of them, and a lot less talking and overhearing family discussions on purity. She had the privilege of lacking wandering ears, so she did not have the trouble of overhearing everything that young ears should not hear. Sometimes, Sirius wished his ears would cut out like hers, but of course, they wouldn’t, and of course he didn’t truly wish to lose his hearing. He knew it was wrong to wish for such an ailment, but he simply wished for a break from the constant string of lectures.
James would also laugh, but he would be nodding, and then the rest would join in because he was a leader, and what he did was usually what was best.
“Tell her, Frank, that she’s right,” James would say, losing his attempt to sound like his father selling a potion, and resuming the tone of an innocent eight year old boy. “They’re gonna realize how stupid it all is before too long, and then we’ll all marry people we actually love,”
It was a bold proclamation for a young boy to make, but it wasn’t anything that shocked his friends, especially not Sirius. That was just James, he said the most out of this world things, and meant every ounce of them. It was why Sirius had always admired him
Of course, as much as Sirius wanted to agree with his friends, who all by now cheered like a toast was made, even his brother, he couldn’t agree with them. He would whoop and cheer with them, let the conversation topic drift on to be about brooms, and go quiet himself.
Even at eight, he was thrilled to watch his brother passionately discuss the best broom for a seeker vs the best broom for a keeper, none of which mattered in the slightest to Sirius, but clearly this was very important to the others, especially James and Marlene. Sirius was thrilled that his brother could participate in these debates with the other kids whilst it was entirely Sirius’ worry to make sure none of the adults caught wind of their radical ideas on blood purity. Of course it wasn’t like Sirius agreed with his family, he didn’t, he thought it was all quite silly, why did it matter if the linage was kept up as long as the offspring were magical. He didn’t understand most of the things that came with being an heir, but that didn’t exempt him from the responsibility of it. It actually felt the less he knew, the more was to be expected of him, but perhaps that was his youth showing.
Eventually the broom debate became a conversation about Hogwarts Houses, which was another topic with a lot more weight than the others realized.
“I’m going to be a Gryffindor, I just know it,” James announced, “So I’ll be beating you at Quidditch, Reg, if you’re going to be a Slytherin.”
Sirius was just glad that the other children hadn’t managed to make his little brother distasteful in being a Slytherin, because that was the one thing the Black brothers could not stray from.
“I don’t know what house I’ll be in,” Barty had spoken up, he was always so quiet, although Sirius didn’t think his silence meant he was thoughtful, it was quite the contrary. “My dad was a Ravenclaw and my mother was a Hufflepuff, but I don’t know, our family doesn’t have any specific history,” He would nod towards the brothers and Pandora, the intent behind his words obvious.
“My mum was a Gryffindor, but my brother’s a Slytherin,” Frank will say with a shrug, “I guess there’s really no real way to know if you don’t have that family history,”
Sirius couldn’t help himself, “Hey, family history doesn’t mean I’ll for sure be a Slytherin,” It was supposed to be a mock offense, but Sirius accidentally sounded genuine. He really hoped no one back home would catch wind of this conversation. “You never know, I could be the first Black in Hufflepuff,” would be added to the end, to make it sound like a joke, of course it was a hilarious joke, someone going that far off from their family destiny, it was laughable.
The kids would continue to talk and joke and play until the sun began to threaten its leave, and at that point they’d all split up to go to their respective homes, giddy to not be late they’d all rush to put their shoes and socks on, fix their pants and skirts, try to make it look like they didn’t spend their afternoon getting filthy. When everyone else split, Sirius would take his brother’s hand and walk him through the thin woods down the road to Black Manor.
The walk back was filled with Regulus telling Sirius all about quidditch, all things that made little to no sense to him. Of course he knew the basics, the kids spent plenty of summer days on training brooms playing, but Sirius never could understand the game beyond the basics. He didn’t get the appeal in rooting for a team, he didn’t get why Regulus kept asking for Pride of Portree robes for his birthday and Christmas every year, however he was just happy his brother had something he loved so much. Whilst Sirius had to sit for lectures and lessons, his brother was spared beyond the basics of reading and maths, and got to indulge in quidditch as much as he liked. He was pretty sure his little brother had as many books on quidditch as he had on the stars, he didn’t know what was so captivating about it, but he was happy to listen to him talk about the sport, it was a nice break in the usual; topics sirius had to endure.
Their walk back to the Black Manor was one of the longest of the group, as it was quite a ways down the road from Malfoy Manor, not more than twenty minutes, but Regulus was a slow walker, and he was not skilled in walking and talking. However there were positives to the lengthy walk, the boys’ clothes got to dry in the setting sun, and Regulus’ young magic would conveniently manifest in ways that left him tidy. While Sirius still had dirt on him, the mess on his younger brother was gone, and his tie still lay pressed, and his hair began to fall as nicely as it had been styled that morning by their nanny. Sirius’ magic never seemed to present itself in very helpful ways, instead he was left wondering what his magic did for him, because it didn’t seem to be much. Maybe it was that he didn’t deserve the benefits, he was a naughty boy who got into plenty of mischief, his magic must know that he needed to face the consequences of it. Whilst other children he knew had their magic doing things for them like making sure their favorite toy never got lost, and that they never tripped when playing chase, Sirius was left to figure all those circumstances out on his own. James told them about how he could get the practice quaffle he had to fly around so he could practice keeping, and Frank talked about how he never needed a bookmark because his books always knew where to open to. Sirius could only recall his magic doing very small things for him, like when he sewed with his cousins he always had the right amount of thread, and when he drew his star maps he never had blotchy ink from his quill, but those tricks stopped working as of late. Again, he considered it a natural consequence to being a naughty child, he spent too much time pulling tricks on house elves to deserve the small benefits of magic, he spoke out of turn too often for his magic to do anything to aid him. He wished sometimes his magic would stop him from getting in such trouble, but he did it all to himself, so he was sure his magic couldn’t stop it even if he wished and wished for it.
As they got to the outer gates of the Black Manor they saw their nanny, Agatha, and Regulus let go of his brother’s hand to run to greet her.
Agatha was a squib who came from an old magical family in Norway, she was a shame to their bloodline so she left her country for work, and found that in the Black family. She had nannied the girls until Sirius was born, when that happened the girls' care was taken on by their mother as Sirius’ mother needed all the help she could get. He was told pretty consistently that he was even terrible as a baby, never latching, never wanting his mother’s affections, it was not hard to transfer care to Agatha, and it was not something his mother forgot. It was his first betrayal to her as his mother, preferring a filthy squib over his own pure mother, he did not intend to be this way, he would always argue that he was a baby, how could he have wanted to hurt his mother? Nonetheless, it was a fruitless fight, even with Regulus’ affections for their nanny, he always made it clear he preferred his mother. Sirius was sure now, at eight, to make it clear he did not prefer affection from anyone, he did not want hugs, or to be sung to sleep, and this usually avoided fights about his traitorous preferences.
That day would end like every other day, somehow they always did, with his nanny lecturing him gently about this or that (tonight the dirt, and his hair), then he would fix what was wrong only to face another lecture with his parents either over dinner or after it, then he would sit with his family in one room or another until he is dismissed for bed.
Bed at his aunt and uncle’s was much worse than bed at home. At his aunt and uncles, as a young child, he was to share a bed with his brother, with their nanny in a bed just across the room from him. If the day was hard, there was no break. Not that his brother or nanny were ever really the cause of his harder days, but nonetheless he did not have space to breath. His brother always naturally ended up curled up on him, and Sirius was left to lay on his black and still so he did not disturb Regulus. He didn’t mind it, but he felt like there was always a chance his brother could hear his thoughts.
“Why are mother and father always mad at you?” would be asked of him that night long after their nanny had begun to softly snore. And of course this was a perfect example of Regulus being able to read his brother all too well, it wasn’t fair that Sirius couldn’t lay there and go over his day and mistakes, why was his brother always able to get to him? Maybe that was what brothers are for.
“The same reason our aunt and uncle are always mad at Bella, it is my job as the eldest to mess up.” Sirius would answer easily, gently petting his brother’s hair.
“But mother and father get so much more upset with you,”
“We don’t see Bella every day, I am sure it is normal, don’t let the thought stop you from getting rest.”
Sirius wasn’t sure if it was true, to be entirely honest he didn’t think it was, since his cousin Andromeda was always in much more trouble than Bella was, but it seemed to work enough to calm his brother. It didn’t matter to Sirius at the end of the day if his parents got upset with him ten times a day, as long as his brother got to go to sleep peacefully, as long as he was able to concern his days with thoughts of playing quidditch, Sirius deemed the upsets worth taking, even at age eight.
“Siri, tell me about the hopping pot again,”
Sirius laughed and shook his head, “you know I don’t remember how it goes,”
“I like your version better,” Regulus pleaded with him through tired giggles.
Sirius sighed, but he did oblige his brother, there was never a time where he wouldn’t do anything for him. He petted his brother’s hair and quietly told him a horribly abridged version of the story, every time Sirius told the story he made sure every single detail was different, except somehow, someway, there was a hopping pot in it. Regulus would make sleepy suggestions of the direction of the story, and Sirius would make sure to incorporate every wild addition. He wasn’t even halfway through his retelling when Regulus was asleep, and Sirius finished the story just to be sure his brother really would stay asleep, this time finishing it with the wizard marrying the foot, but not the pot, of the hopping pot.
Sirius himself, however, did not fall asleep for quite some time, as he lay in bed he couldn’t get his eyes to get heavy, so he simply watched the enchanted mobile that hung across the room of the galaxy, completely lost in his own thoughts. Stupid thoughts, like what he would do if he could be in another Hogwarts house, how much he’d love to get in the same houses as his friends. With Bella just recently married, and his family starting to discuss Andromeda’s future engagement, he looked forward more and more to getting to go to school. He would be turning nine in just two months, and then it was only one more year before he was ten, and then the summer he was ten he was sure he would get his Hogwarts letter, and he was sure he would spend his eleventh birthday in the famed castle. That was the thought that so often got him to sleep, if he slept he was one night closer to going to Hogwarts, and that was one night closer to getting to learn about more than his own lineage and his cousins marriages.