Chapter 1
Tis the season of good tidings and all across the land families make merry, or roast a good ham.
In one such house on a gloomy London street, a family of three was sat down about to eat,
However, no glasses were raised in toast, instead mother and son were engaged in a furious roast.
~
12 Grimmauld place, December 24th 1975
“Sit DOWN Sirius, honestly you are once again bringing shame to this family like no other before you. Now shut up and sit down” Walburga Black’s voice was sharp and clipped, her voice kept controlled as though she were worried what the neighbour would think, but Regulus knew nothing could be less true. If there was anything consistent about his childhood home life it was the eternal presence of complaints from his parents about the filthy presence of their despicable lowly muggle neighbours. His thoughts were cut off by the sharp angry hiss from his brother, who was failing miserably to maintain the same control as his mother.
“Can’t we just-” Regulus attempted, before he was shushed by both of the angry parties
“No.” Sirius cut his brother off, furiously glaring at his mother “I won’t. You can't just drop a proposal on me over Christmas dinner and act like it's no big deal mother. I will NOT marry Bella-”
Sirius had just begun to build up volume before he was cut off by his mother again, before Regulus could try to intercede again.
“It’s not up for discussion Sirius, it's an excellent match that strengthens the Black family lines and magic” Walburga remarked, in her most dismissive tone.
“SHES MY FUKCING COUSIN!” Sirius bellowed, cheeks flushed with anger and spittle flying.
Walburga’s face turned dark, her voice dropping low, which was somehow more threatening than if she had shrieked like Sirius.
“How dare you use that foul language in my presence you insolent child.” Her eyes gleamed with a kind of mad rage Regulus had rarely seen before.
“KREACHER” Walburga bellowed “Escort Sirius to his room. When his father is home I shall ensure that he is lashed until the skin on his back no longer exists and then we shall regrow it so that I can lash it again myself. See to it that he eats his dinner, I wouldn't want him to pass out before all the fun is over.” With a wicked glint in her eyes she rose from the table.
“Mother please-” Regulus tried again, voice breaking in desperation.
“Unless you wish to join your brother at the post this evening Regulus, be quiet and eat your dinner.” She shot at him, before stalking off to her chambers. Kreacher grasped Sirius by the arm and disappeared them both with a loud crack moments later. Leaving Regulus alone with a thoroughly unappealing decadent meal at a crushingly empty table.
Feeling helpless to do anything else Regulus Black ate his dinner, each mouthful tasting of ash as he swallowed it down in the echoing silence.
~
It was well after midnight when Sirius’ screams finally settled into the ornate wallpaper and returned the historic townhouse to its usual, oppressive silence. Regulus waited another 20 minutes which was all he could bear to ensure the coat was clear before he snuck out of his room. Carefully he edged his way down the pitch black corridor, not daring to light his wand and alert his sleeping relatives, encased in oil and canvas, to his stealthy journey.
Gingerly he pushed on the door and it gave way easily beneath his touch. He entered as quietly as he could, expecting to find his brother still stripped bare on the floor as he usually was. The air in the room was still thick with the smell of blood and vomit, but Sirius was not lying in a heap as Regulus had found him so many nights before. Instead Sirius sat on his bed, the leather jacket he was so fond of pulled over shoulders’ whose skin was sure to still be pink and tender from the elves' healing magic.
At the soft sound of the door latching behind Regulus Sirius’ hunched figure stiffened but he did not look up, his long hair hanging over his face and obscuring his expression.
“Sirius?” Regulus asked tentatively, eyes catching on the stuffed Hogwarts quidditch bag that sat beside him on the bed “Are- are you okay?” he asked hesitantly, his brain refusing to examine what the bag could mean. Nothing for another beat, the silence growing like a living thing between them until finally Sirius moved.
Slowly he lifted his head out of where it rested in his upturned palms and turned his face to his brothers. Something cold and hollowing flooded Regulus’ chest as he met Sirius’ red rimmed eyes.
He had been crying. Sirius never cried.
He screamed and shouted and yelled, but he didnt cry.
Not ever.
Until now it seemed.
Regulus rushed to his side.
“Sirius I- what did they do to you? Are you okay? How can I help?” his voice shook so badly on the last word he wasn't sure it was intelligible.
Sirius let out a muted laugh, but it was humourless, threaded with dismay and bitterness.
When he spoke his voice was a shard of glass, clear and solemn and oh so fragile.
“You can't help Reggie, you never can. Nobody can-” he broke off as if searching for the words. “I just can’t-” He broke off again, his composure shattering and the raw pain that lay beneath glimmering through for a second. Sirius cleared his throat. “She won't see reason Reggie and I- I won’t marry Bellatrix. I don't care what moth- what she says. I can't do it”
Regulus looked at him for a moment, and the bag and his jacket and suddenly he understood. “You’re leaving.” Regulus said, his voice sounding hollow.
“I can't stay here… I just-” Sirius tried again but Regulus cut him off.
“You’re leaving me here? Alone? With them? With her?” he hissed, suddenly furious, or maybe terrified, possibly both.
Surprise flickered across Sirius’ features “No, Reggie, I mean, I didn’t think you’d want to leave.”
Sirius was looking at him with avid confusion. As though he was completely surprised that Regulus might not want to stay here, in this Godforsaken house that was his brother's birthright, alone, with only his parents for company. The fact that he hadn't even considered that Regulus might hate it here just as much as he did was so typical and so selfish that for a minute, just a minute, Regulus considered calling out to Kreacher. Alerting his mother to Sirius’ escape plans and watching as she shackled him further.
He wondered if he would relish watching as Sirius received the captivity he appeared so fine with abandoning Regulus to, or if the guilt would immediately wash away any of the spiteful glee. But then Sirius’ expression morphed, confusion changing into one of… vulnerability? Uncertainty? Nervousness? Regulus waited as Sirius chewed on his lip as he contemplated his next words, then he leapt up, grasping Regulus by both shoulders in his typical overly physical expression of earnestness.
“Would you- would you like to come with?” his eyes darted frantically between Regulus’ matching grey set. The restless energy and magic that always thrummed just beneath the surface of his pale skin almost vibrating into Regulus’ biceps where his brother held him tight.
Regulus almost dismissed it, almost turned away for duty and honour, and the family name, but then Sirius added, “Please Reggie, come with me?” and his voice was a whispered plea.
Regulus’ heart was sent hammering so loudly in his chest that he felt as though he was watching from the outside to a steadily increased drum beat when he heard himself say in reply: “Alright. How are we doing this?”
~
After his rather brash and Gryffindorian agreement to run away with his brother it only took Regulus about 10 minutes to discover that his brother, the actual Gryffindor, didn't have so much of a plan as he had a vague gung-ho general idea of how their now two person escape would work.
Sighing heavily Regulus discarded the crumpled pamphlet Sirius had scrounged out of his duffel which apparently explained how to navigate something called ‘The underground’. When Regulus had voiced concerns about wandering through endless tunnels in the dirt, Sirius had assured him that almost everyone called it a ‘tube’ so it was probably fairly clean. (Regulus had not in fact felt very reassured.). While he wasn't sure how being hurried along a series of pipes (down? through? were the tubes like a series of slides?) presumably represented semi accurately by the squiggly lines in the pamphlet might help muggles navigate London more easily, he was sure it wouldn’t help the two of them reach the Potter’s house.
When Sirius demanded to know why as Remus said it was dead useful in getting you around muggle London. Regulus had patiently pointed out that the Potter's house was a very magical, very remote residence which was very much outside of all of London, never mind muggle London. When he pointed this out Sirius had crumpled, muttering something about wanting to tell the moon he’d gone on the tubes. Regulus, trying not to be disheartened by his brother conversing with the night sky and dismissing it as almost certainly not a display of an early descent into madness, rallied. During the ridiculous tubular discussion he had had what was probably a fairly good idea.
“Alright, help me move the wardrobe” he told Sirius, waving his wand gently.
“Have you gone mad?!” Sirius hissed, finally exploding his effervescent energy into the unusually quiet room.
“No, unlike you dear brother, what I have got is a plan. Now help me move this wardrobe so I can sneak through the old entrance.”
Working together they levitated the heavily ornate 16th century wardrobe to one side of the room and placed it back down with a quiet thump to reveal a small tunnel. Brick and mortar and wall paneling painstakingly carved open to connect the two boys’ childhood rooms. Regulus’ fingers cramped at the sight of the hollow grooves made by expensive silverware decades before. An act of desperation to be nearer to his brother when they were separated. Evidently the tight squeeze under the wardrobe in and out had been the pinch point and Regulus’ child brain had dug a much bigger hole than needed once he’d made it under the cupboard. Once the wardrobe was clear the tunnel was actually larger than Regulus had anticipated and with just a few deft wand movements to enlarge the tunnel they could both walk through it to Regulus’ room on the other side, albeit hunched over.
Together the brothers lifted his wardrobe in the same way as before and entered Regulus’ room. The bedroom was similarly laid out but where Sirius’ had been chaos incarnate, Regulus’ was neat as a pin. The décor in this one varied too, all green and silver in contrast to Sirius’ scarlet and gold. Regulus’ walls also sported a notable absence of obnoxious or semi nude posters.
Regulus summoned his own Quidditch kit bag and methodically began packing things from his wardrobe and desk drawers while Sirius wandered around looking curiously at the small collection of photos Regulus kept above his desk. A smile tugged at his lips as he pulled down a small moving image of two dark haired, pale toddlers. The tiny figures were elbowing each other while pretending to look innocently into the camera, dressed to the nines in ridiculous dress robes for one of their parents’ many galas. The pristine image was ruined only by the large lipstick kiss mark on Regulus’ forehead, Sirius’ lips still pink from the remnants.
“I didn't know you had these, I thought mother burned them all when she saw what I’d done.” Sirius remarked lightly.
Awkwardly Regulus cleared his throat. “I , er, salvaged what I could,” he said with embarrassment. “I like remembering.”
Sirius lifted an eyebrow at him. “You like remembering being locked in a cupboard for a week because I put lipstick on and you were moderately nearby at the time?” he asked with a lilt to his voice.
Regulus scowled “No, idiot. I like remembering that we had fun as kids, you know, before the cupboards and other…. Punishments. We had fun together, at least we used to.” His gaze turned down shamefully. “It made me feel less alone, like, like it was us against them, not just me, alone…” he felt his face flush in the dim light and added sulkily “It’s stupid.”
Suddenly, he was being roughly encircled in warm leather, silky hair crawling into his nostrils. Regulus feebly protested before letting his arms enclose his brother, careful not to squeeze too tightly on his tender back. He shut his eyes to repel the tears that sprung unbidden into his eyes, focusing instead on his brother’s rough voice.
“It is us against them. Hell Reg, it's us against the world. Together, forever. It's you and me.” Finally releasing Regulus and wiping his own eyes before grinning madly, Sirius slid the small image into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. Regulus pressed his palm onto the lapel for a second so it sat against his brothers beating heart. Sirius’ smile grew even larger and Regulus felt tears threatening to fall again, so instead he broke the spell and spoke.
“We need to go back to your room for the next bit.” he croaked, willing the crack out of his voice.
They made the return journey quickly, and though it hurt to erase the history in those grooves, Regulus sealed the passage behind them. For some reason the idea of his mother finding their secret tunnel made him feel too exposed to leave it behind.
“Okay what next Reggie, you’re the swot with the plan, is there a step two?” Sirius asked, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet.
Regulus took a deep breath, eyes searching Sirius’ face. Here goes nothing he thought to himself.
“Step two is, you trust me” He said, Casting a silencing charm over the room followed by “Incarcerus!” Sirius’ eyes widened in shock as soft rope wound its way around his wrists and over his mouth. Regulus gave his brother what he hoped was an apologetic grimace before calling for the house elf.
It turned out his first instinct to turn Sirius in had been his best one, just not for the right reasons.
“Kreacher!” He threw Sirius a hastily arched eyebrow that he hoped said once more ‘trust me’ as the elf appeared with a muffled crack. Trying to ignore Sirius’ utterly betrayed look he addressed the elf directly.
“Kreacher, first of all, thank you for dinner. It was wonderful as usual.” Regulus spoke softly, addressing the elf with deference.
Kreacher bowed deeply. Before looking back up at Regulus, the elf’s large orb eyes slid over Sirius’ bound hands but betrayed no emotion as he waited, gazing up at Regulus.
“Secondly, I know you don't like my brother,” Regulus went on. Sirius mumbled something against his ropes in protest and Regulus threw him another look. The mumbling stopped but he could feel the grey gaze narrowed and suspicious on his back as he turned away.
“Kreacher would never speak ill of the children of the house of black, Kreacher is the mistress and young masters’ most loyal servant” Kreacher replied. He bowed again, his crooked nose brushing the floorboards. Sirius scoffed in distaste but behind the ropes it sounded more like a sneeze.
Regulus suppressed a laugh.
“Of course not Kreacher, and while I know you would never say anything untoward about the members of our noble family I think we can both agree that the honourable mistress Black would be better off without him.” Regulus jerked his thumb in Sirius’ outraged direction.
Kreacher did not agree, at least not verbally but his eyes twinkled and he did not object either. Regulus took this as the closest thing to an endorsement he was going to get from a bound house elf and pressed on.
“In order to rid the mistress of this… erm… burden. I will be hel- er- escorting Sirius off the premises and away from the family for good. Will you assist me in this noble task?” Regulus felt a pang of guilt about his intentions to obliviate the elf at the nearest opportunity but pressed on “It would be a wonderful surprise for mother when she wakes up wouldn't it Kreacher? To not have nasty mudblood loving Sirius besmirching her good name and wasting the air beneath her honourable roof” he laced his words with as much conviction and persuasive energy as he dared, but felt his stomach swoop nervously at his use of the slur.
Sirius loved his muggle friends dearly and Regulus hoped he would forgive him this one transgression against them. He watched, praying to every Black ghost in living history that Sirius would keep his mouth shut until the deal was done.
Kreacher’s eyes shone excitedly as he nodded. “Yes master Regulus, Kreacher is thinking it will be a lovely surprise” Regulus breathed a sigh of relief and was sure he visibly deflated.
“Excellent.” he proclaimed “Could you please take us to the Potter’s manor please. As you know they have extensive fields and I plan to make SIrius disappear near there. AS you know they are an unsavoury sort and one wouldn’t expect to find a member of the prestigious Black family on their grounds. Once he’s gone no-one will think to look for him there.”
Kreacher beamed, grasping Reglus’ hand and Sirius’ bound wrists and with a loud crack disappeared, dragging them both into compressed apparition space with him.
~
They arrived in a cool open field. The smell of melted snow and damp soil heavy in the air. Regulus pulled out his wand subtly.
“Thank you Kreacher, shut your eyes please” Kreacher obeyed as he always must when commanded. Carefully and as gently as he could Regulus extracted the memories of the last few minutes. Then, pulling from his own memories of many evenings prior he wove a new memory, one in which Kreacher treated Sirius’ wounds and then retired to his hideout under the boiler cupboard, and slept through the night.
“Go home, go straight to bed, forget you were ever here.” Regulus commanded, and with a crack it was done. Regulus gave Sirius a cautious once over before releasing his bonds. He held his breath, waiting for Sirius’ usual kinetic energy to explode out in a burst of anger and rage, but he waited in vain. Instead of what Regulus had anticipated would be a fight, the Black brothers stood together in silence in a field of softly fluttering moonlit grass. They gazed across the rolling hills at the warmly lit manor house, its lights glowing in the distance and for the first time in their lives, they breathed the fresh air and smelt freedom on its breeze.
Tentatively Regulus smiled at his brother.
Sirius openly beamed back.
Together, they turned and headed for the glowing warmth of the house over the hill, hearts full of hope that tomorrow might just be their best Christmas yet.