Summer 1972
-Always so welcoming, your brother.
Regulus turned to Evan. They were in the room of the first, the windows were open to let the rare draughts pass, and they both monitored that Pandora did not pass over the edge.
The Rosiers were taking part in a dinner with the Blacks, but the children were asked to leave after the end of the meal. The diner had been a disaster from Regulus' point of view, but Walburga and Orion had not yet visited Sirius, which comforted him à bit.
Sirius's return to the manor had sounded the beginning of the complications. Since their exit to the roof, the two brothers had not been able to exchange as they would have liked. Correction sessions, as their mother called them, for Sirius's transgressions during his school year had begun.
His brother never talked about it, preferring to spend the rare moments they managed to steal to discuss what they would do together at Hogwarts. And Regulus could not help but see only the smile that his brother sent him back and push back as far as he could what was happening in the room upstairs. Because everything he could do then would be suppositions. And he refused to imagine anything, lest these horrible things turn out to be true.
-He's tired lately.
-Isn't he on vacation?
Regulus knew Evan enough to know that his remark wasn’t a way to attack him. He and his brother spoke little, but no animosity existed, to his knowledge, among them. On Evan's side in any case, for Sirius, Regulus would not vote. Evan Rosier was certain to go to Slytherin, and if Sirius still preferred not to see the truth as to his younger brother, he left no doubt as to the heir Rosier. And Merlin knew what hatred he wanted to the Slytherins.
-Yes, but he has Hogwarts' duties to fulfil, and he must ensure certain things as his heir role.
Evan nodded, understanding.
-I know that, I understand.
Pandora lay her feet on the ground and turned to the two boys, a slight smile on his lips.
-Regulus, have you already bought your supplies?
-No, Kreattur should take me and my brother this week. Our letters will arrive soon.
-Ours too. I would ask our parents to take us there at the same time.
-Pandora.
The girl turned to her brother, her smile still displayed.
-Yes?
-Father and mother will not accompany us, I have already told you.
-Ah? But isn't something that's done with a family?
-Regulus has just said that Sirius and he will be accompanied by Kreattur.
Pandora closed her mouth and turned to Regulus without adding anything. He looked away, uncomfortable. He loved Pandora, she was different from the other Pure-Blood Childre, but she had the unfortunate habit of supporting in the most painful places. And Regulus was tired of being judged by anyone who thought they could understand what he was feeling, while he himself was lost in emotions and feelings that were unknown and painful to him.
It is this moment that Sirius chose to enter in his brother's room without warning. He walked to the bed where the three children were settled and lay down and let his head laid on his brother's legs. This gesture surprised the youngest, but didn’t say anything, and he questioned his eldest gaze.
-Later.
Regulus did not seek to go any further.
-Are parents still talking?
-Yes, I managed to escape.
When Walburga demanded that the youngest leave the table, she had held Sirius with them, and Regulus had watched him sit, with him back straight and tense, staring at her mother's face.
Then the door closed behind him.
Seeing him standing and without apparent physical sequelae him. His brother also smiled, and even though Regulus usually did not give too much credit to these demonstrations, today he wanted to believe in them.
Regulus looked away from his brother when an owl fell on the edge of the window. The envelope which he held with his beak gave off only one possibility, and he felt himself filled with a new euphoria.
Pandora rose to fetch her for her place, Sirius's body blocking her, and returned with a smile on her lips. The characteristic writing of the Hogwarts was on the envelope and brought it back a year earlier.
It was as hot as it was now, and the front door was open. Regulus sat in the middle of the steps of the first staircase and stared the street in front of him. His mother had forbidden him to even consider going out and he had listened to her. It could have annoyed him if it wasn't the only thing that gave him entertainment in this dismal and silent house.
He had then heard a big bang in the floors, and someone rushed down the countless stairs. Sirius was the only one in their family to let themselves go like that, the privileges of the heir Regulus said himself at this time. Unsurprisingly, he had seen his brother appear at the top of the steps, an envelope in his hand which he wielded like a trophy, and it was then that Regulus realized that he was shouting his name.
-Reggie. Look, look. Look at what I just got.
Regulus knew, and his blood chilled. He had spent so much time fearing that moment, that now that he was happened, he seemed unreal. Before, just a minute before, his brother's departure was only hypothetical. Now he could almost touch it with his fingers. It had never been a dream, but a personal nightmare.
-Hogwarts's letter I imagine.
Sirius did not notice the indifference that his brother was trying to convey in his voice. Regulus tried as hard as to show him that he did not want to talk about it, but his brother had been waiting for this letter for so many years that it was impossible to silence him.
-It's real ! I'm going in September. Do you believe it? I wonder what Hogwarts looks like? Do you have an idea?
-No. But I still have time to make one, don't I?
-I would describe everything to you so much that you will not even be able to imagine it.
Regulus did not reply, and Sirius continued to speak. He read the letter aloud to share his joy with a brother who felt more compressed with every word he uttered. The sunlight reached the place where Sirius had sat but stopped just at the level of Regulus' feet, and the younger kept fixing this delimitation.
Next to him, Sirius continued to talk about the shops where he would have to buy his supplies, the house he would go and the friends he would make, true friends. Regulus had a thought for Pandora and Evan, knowing that for his brother, they were barely what we could called friends. Simple children like them who had been forced to rub shoulders with each other. And Regulus felt very small in front of his brother, and the heat he was clearing.
Sirius's grey eyes, like his own, shone in the sun with an intensity which Regulus's would never have. Sirius was alive. He breathed happiness. Joy. He was going to leave, and he rejoiced. And Regulus could not blame him, because he knew that if he were in his place, he would keep the same speech, without thinking for a single second of the brother he would leave behind.
Because if he left a brother, he would also leave their parents, this mansion, these rules, these treatments, these remonstrances, these remarks, this silence.
The pain.
And Sirius spoke. He kept talking without stopping. And Regulus felt sick. Because he already felt the walls of the manor tighten around him. He turned to his brother, who had not noticed anything about his change of attitude and tried to soothe his anxieties. But the void in his chest, the emptiness that Sirius already left in him, numbed his heart and his soul.
-Sirius?
All smiles, his brother turned to him.
-Yes?
-Would you wait for me if I asked you?
The smile disappeared.
-Regulus?
-Could you wait another year?
Sirius approached him and passed his arms over his shoulders.
-Hey... You know well that it is not possible.
Yes. Yes, he knew it.
-Yes. But if I asked you, if you could, would you wait for me?
-If I could ever do anything, I would take your hand and go away.
And a year later, Regulus still believed in what his brother had told him that day. If he could, he would leave. And he would hold his hand.
Regulus detached the red Hogwarts bucket and read the letter carefully, so as not to miss any detail. A slight smile appeared on his lips, he felt it, but did not hide from it. He was far too happy to even imagine concealing his joy. This letter was the reason he was waiting for to leave this house. He was leaving, at last.
Better. He joined Sirius.
Regulus looked down at his brother, who always had his head on his knees, and smiled. And his unsure smile passed on Sirius's face. They were happy, and Sirius was happy for him.
-Have you received your letter for your supplies ?
His brother did not reply to him, and Regulus had the stupidity to insist.
-Sirius?
-I don't know.
-Maybe the owl is waiting for you in your room. Do you want us to go and see?
-Not really no.
-But...
-Regulus. I won’t move from here.
At the same time, the sounds of footsteps were heard on the stairs as someone climbed upstairs. And Regulus' blood gets frozen. Evan and Pandora, which this simple noise did not alarm, began to discuss what they, too, should buy at the Diagon Alley. He took the opportunity to bend towards his brother's face and whisper.
-Where are you supposed to be?
-At the bottom. With them.
In a trembling voice, Regulus continued.
-And why aren't you there?
-I didn't want to be there.
-Sirius...
-No. Shut up. You don't know what it is, otherwise you'd understand.
- I don't understand what it's like to be what?
-The heir.
Indeed, he did not understand. He would never understand. For he was none of that. Because Regulus was there only to show and to walk straight on a line that he knew neither the purpose nor the way. He wading in the mud of the remains that his brother left him. A mud that served him to camouflage himself. The remains of a personality he would never have.
Sirius rose as the door of Regulus's room opened. His brother's back hid the person who had just entered the room, but the tense muscles of his body let him guess who it was.
-Sirius.
-Mother.
Sirius... don't start. Not again. Not this time. I wouldn't let you do it.
-Don't tell me you got lost in your own house.
-I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
-Ah?
Regulus is thinking at full speed. He knew that Walburga would do nothing, not at least for now. Not before witnesses. But would come the time when she would take revenge.
-It's my fault Mother.
If that had been possible, Sirius's muscles would have stretched out more. His brother slowly turned to him, unveiling the gaze of their mother, who was now standing on Regulus. Sirius's eyes were dreadful. Because all the Blacks here knew that Regulus was his weak point. Regulus knew that Sirius would take his blows. But this time, it would be up to him to take his own. But this time, Regulus hoped that no blow would rain, and that no wands would rise.
-Regulus?
His mother's icy gaze reigned into his flesh, making his bones tremble.
-Can I know how you're connected to all of this?
When he opened his mouth, he realized that it was dry and it tongue was pasty. Under the suit his parents had chosen for him, he was sweating.
-I just got my letter from Hogwarts My door was open and Sirius passed by then. I called him to ask him questions.
In front of him, Sirius scarcely breathed, waiting, like him, for their mother's reply.
-And he didn't tell you he was expected downstairs?
Regulus felt himself to be pale. He turned his eyes to Sirius and crossed his brother's eyes. They knew. Walburga was trying to blame someone for the embarrassment of not seeing his heir return to the dining room. They were blocked. Stuck. Petrified.
Regulus's hands began to tremble, and the boy hastened to hide them from his mother's sight. His brain was thinking at full speed to find a way to get them out of this dangerous situation. Aware that this was impossible. And when he saw Sirius begin to open his mouth, Regulus had been reviving in the last few thousandths of a second in the last few thousandths of a second.
Walburga who summoned Sirius to their father's office.
Walburga throwing the spell Silencio closing the door.
Regulus closing his eyes on hearing the furniture hit the walls, knowing that Sirius would be unable to push even a moan.
And finally, silence.
Over and over again.
Without any false notes.
And if in no case did Regulus wish to experience this pattern, he would not allow Sirius to suffer it once again. Not like that. Not for that.
So he was faster.
-I asked him to stay anyway. I didn't think it would be that urgent.
Regulus had not noticed the hand that Sirius had placed on his arm until the moment when his nails planted in his skin. His brother no longer looked at him, but every fibre of his body shouted at him to remain silent.
-I remember asking you to understand the responsibilities of an heir. You wouldn't want to get your brother into trouble because of your own incapacities, I'm wrong?
-No Mother.
-Okay. Sirius.
-I'm coming.
Regulus watched his brother leave the room with a heavy heart. He had done his best, he had tried to help him, and he knew he had failed. When the door closed, he took a deep breath, as if his mother's presence prevented him from breathing.
Then he became aware of the presence of Evan and Pandora in his room. The first looked at him with the same expression as usual, giving Regulus the impression of having dreamed of the last moments, while Pandora still stared at the window.
-Your mother is scary.
Regulus turned to Pandora but had time to see Evan pinch his lips.
-Shut up Pandora.
Evan tapped her sister's arm to make sure she had it of course. The girl screamed, more by surprise than for the blow itself, before she goes without her head over the ledge of the window. Regulus thanked his friend in silence before lying on his bed and looking at the grey and sluggish ceiling standing before his eyes.
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Regulus was sitting at the edge of his bed, waiting patiently. The Rosiers had left the mansion a few tens of minutes before, and since then, Regulus had not moved. He knew she would come. He could almost hear the silence she left in his wake.
Multiple images came to his mind, each giving him the pulpit of a hen. Because Walburga was unpredictable. Each cracking of wood made him shudder and put him on alert. He felt his bones vibrate against his flesh, and yet, in the mirror in front of him, nothing allowed any trembling to appear.
The door is quietly open, and his mother's silhouette stood in front of him in an instant.
Frightening.
Dangerous.
Powerful.
-I have a lot of hope in you Regulus.
Liar, too, sometimes. The child did not reply.
-You lied to me.
Regulus tried to keep up with his mother's accusation, while terror was engulfed by all the pores of her skin. His mother's slight rictus made him understand that his efforts were in vain.
She knew.
-I-
-Don't make me more angry with your lies. I think you're smart enough to understand that. Or at least not to follow your brother's footsteps. You know where it takes him.
Regulus nodded.
-So you're going to tell me what happened.
The fear that his mother was intimate him had always made his back bend. He would have done it this time if his brother's silhouette had not caught his attention behind the frail opening of the door. The brief glance he threw in his direction was enough to alert his mother, who snapped it at Sirius's nose.
-I would come personally to take care of your case, Sirius.
His voice was worn through the partition, Sirius was warned.
Finally, she turned to her youngest son.
-Exactly what I told you happened earlier.
A dangerous gleam lit in Walburga's eyes before a smile appeared. Regulus smelling the hairs of his neck bristling. His mother never smiled.
-Sirius told me everything.
Something in his eyes must have broken since Walburga's attitude was triumphant. In experience, Regulus knew that his mother was experimenting on him and his brother with his manipulative abilities, and it had been a long time since he preferred to not believe in what she was saying to him. But Sirius was a Gryffindor, and a brother who had always protected him. Regulus would not be surprised to know that he had denounced himself if it meant sparing him from their mother's anger.
He almost could have believed it if his mother did not stand before him at that very moment, and not in his brother's room. He had seen him, he was fine. She had done nothing to him. This was unusual. Then with all the courage he had left, he stood up to him.
-I told you the whole truth, Mother.
Sirius would have been proud of him. But the joy of knowing it was nothing compared to the terror of seeing her mother's features crisper in an expression of intense fury.
-Regulus.
The young boy remained petrified with terror.
-You don't leave me a choice.
What was she going to do this time? What did she have in mind to make him spit what she wanted to hear. Regulus's fists wagged on his thighs and he straightened up. Ready to face the pain that would explode inside his skull. Even after years of undergoing the various legilimencies of Walburga, it was still not strong enough to counter it.
And even if he became so, Regulus knew that in front of his mother he would remain the five-year-old who had lied if he said that he was not coming out of the mansion. Faced with his mother's overwhelming superiority, he would never win.
But the pain did not come.
She never came.
And when he wanted to raise his eyes to his mother, he understood why.
His fists loosened by themselves, his body relaxed by a will which was not his. Walburga approached and if Regulus thought he had felt terror before, it had not been compared to what he was now experiencing, under the control of his mother's instability and anger.
Pain, he might face it. It would pass. He knew how far it went. But Walburga Black's madness had no end. And Walburga wanted the truth. It would go beyond what was morally acceptable, if it meant getting what it wanted. And Regulus' body was trapped in that destructive madness from which he could never escape.
-So Regulus, are you determined to tell me the truth?
What was she going to do?
-I swear it's that--
-Don't lie.
Regulus didn't even experience his mother's wand, but the pain on her cheekbone was real. He felt the blood flowing on his cheek without being able to stop it. The cut-off was clear and accurate. A precision that diverged from the gleam that burned in his mother's eyes.
-Get up.
His body rose so sharply that joints cracked. Regulus would have liked to beg her to stop, but her mouth was walled in a silence that did not belong to him anymore. Only his thoughts worked still, but they were of no comfort to him. He couldn't even tremble. There he was puppet of his mother.
-I'll give you one last chance.
And Regulus would have spoken. He would have confessed the truth without remorse or regret if it amounted to regaining his freedom. But his mouth refused to open, and then his mother smiled, with a sadistic smile.
-Okay.
If his eyes had been able to, they would have widened by representing the terror that Regulus felt at that very moment. His feet bypassed the bed to position themselves in front of the window still open. On his back he heard his mother approach, then his breath in his neck.
-You disappoint me Regulus.
He knew it. He had always known. Why repeat it to him now? Would these be the last words he would never hear? He was filled with despair. His mother held him prisoner of his twisted mind, ready to subject him to any torture.
After all, through the eyes of whole society, he was only the second. A spare wheel that the family would never need. If he died, his disappearance would stir up sympathy. His name will forever appear on the family tapestry, just below his juvenile face.
He will never know Hogwarts.
-I hope you don't doubt that I would.
No one can do anything. No one would say anything. A tragic accident. No, he had no doubt that she would do so. That was what scared him.
Regulus swallowed. She would do it if he didn't play his cards well. Now, although his life did not mark anyone, dying like this, never having done anything, was unworthy of a Black. Being worthy of the name he bore was the first thing that had been transmitted to him. As for Sirius.
-Climb up.
And he did. He laid his hands on the edge and went there to pass his legs over it. He was now standing on a rim of barely a few tens of centimetres, a simple breeze could have made him tilt into a vacuum.
Walburga approached him, paying attention not to touch him, but his breath gave Regulus the hen's pulpit. If he could, he would think about really jumping so that he would never have to feel, again, that presence behind his back.
Regulus tried to calculate the distance between his window and the ground and the result chilled the blood. Walburga was too smart for him. The distance was perfect. He would suffer, atrociously, but would not die. Unless she lets him agonizes.
-You won't die.
Regulus suspected it.
-But I would do it as many times as necessary.
Regulus knew that.
-And even with broken bones and split organs, you will continue to rise, climb the stairs and re-swell.
Regulus didn't know. Apparently, he underestimated her.
-Now tell me the truth.
Regulus would have liked to have had the strength to oppose his mother. To keep Sirius safe, for a given period of time. He would have liked to know that he would go to Gryffindor. He would have liked to be like his brother. He would have liked to be thrown from the top of this house without ever saying anything. But he was unable to face his fears, the pain. He was unable to confront his mother. Because unlike her brother, Regulus knew that she would win whatever it costs her:
Then, with a voice mixed with terror, remorse and anger, he spoke.
- He entered my room without I have to calling him.
That was all she wanted, and without a word she recoiled. Regulus felt that he could do it too. In a movement which was confused between precipitation and calm, for his mother would not forgive him if he did not contain himself, he descended from the edge of the window.
The young boy felt himself regained possession of his body and began to count his fingers with his thumb. He wanted to be sure of the control he had of his body.
-I hope this will help you to reflect on your next actions.
-Yes, Mother.
-I wouldn't tolerate this kind of thing, Regulus anymore. Try to stop disappointing me in the future.
Regulus nodded and waited for Walburga to close the door behind her to rush to the window still wide open and close it with a dry blow. He had just the time to see the void on the other side one last time before collapsing to the ground, his back stuck to the wall.
The vision of the void beneath him gave him nausea, as his breathing was already jerky. His fingers worked alone and gave her the impression of still being in the grip of his mother. In turn, his nails were torn off his skin. In turn he counted his fingers.
1.2.3.4.
5.6.7.8
He counted, over and over again, until he lost the thread or his thumb missed one of his fingers. Around him the silence became heavy, broken only by the sound of his breathing. Regulus felt himself to leave several times, and a moan passed the fence of his lips when, in the chamber above, he heard a mass fall to the ground.
Plating his hands on his ears, he continued to count, to pretend that all was well. That Sirius had just dropped a chair. That her mother would have revealed a trampoline, if she had ever really intended to blow it up. That his father was not just to remain silent by drowning the pain of this silence and groans in alcohol.
1.2.3.4.
5.6.7.8.
He was losing control. You're a Black. The honour of the family rests on your shoulders too. The Blacks remained stoic. He was a Black. And his breathing didn't calm down. He was a Black. And he had the impression that his skull was going to explode. He was a Black.
A Black.
A Black.
A Black.
Black.
Black.
Black.
And everything became black.
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It had fallen at night when Regulus opened his eyes again. He was lying on the ground exactly where he remembered crouching. His muscles made him suffer as he stood upright. The last memory he had was to face his hyperventilation, the sun slowly descending into the sky.
Now it was dark, several hours had passed without anyone coming to see him. Verify that he was well.
Regulus was not surprised.
No one in this house was well.
When it was in turn, Regulus turned to the window, and, before a deaf and violent panic took him, closed the curtains.
He extended his ear, but the manor was plunged into silence. Pulingly he came out of his room. The silence around him was buzzing in his ears. His parents slept, Regulus could have bet him, but he remained on his guard until he arrived in front of Sirius's room.
The road was laborious; his muscles refused at the slightest noise he heard, and at each crushing that the old wood of the staircase made by hanging under his weight, his heart almost let go.
Light passed under the door, a sign that his brother was always awake. Regulus didn't really know what made him rise here. The fear of being alone in a room plunged into the dark? Worrying about what had happened to Sirius? Even though he didn't know the reason, Regulus still toa. And waited for an answer that never came.
With caution, Regulus turned the handle, and was relieved to find that the door was not locked. He closed his eyes when he entered the room, blinded by the light.
Sirius sat on his bed, a book in hand, paying no attention to his little brother. Regulus felt that something was wrong long before Sirius spoke. A tension hovered in the air, a voltage that the youngest did not know between them. He opened his mouth, but Sirius, this time, was quicker.
-You're just an idiot.
Regulus felt the air leave his lungs. Sirius's words colliding him almost as much as a blow. Never had his brother been so fond and wicked towards him. This kind of attitude, he reserved it for their mother, and now Regulus wanted nothing to do with her. Just in memory of the events of that late afternoon, he felt his legs abandon it.
His brother's bedroom window was even higher than his.
Perhaps that would be enough.
-Sirius?
Sirius left no seconds of respite.
-I thought you were smarter than that frankly. I've been killing myself for years to do what I need to get away with what I'm going through, and you've been using the first pretext to provoke it. You're a mess. But you have no awareness of what she is capable of doing? This is a disappointment.
-I know that.
-Sorry?
Sirius finally looked up and crossed his brother's gaze. Strangely, his attitude reflected that of their mother. He spoke like her in a cold tone and addressed him in a way that Regulus was not accustomed.
He felt his brother's gaze fall under his eyes, and Regulus remembered the notch that his mother had left him. He had not been rethought, but he was already feeling slight tingling.
-If you think frankly that a cut is the worst thing that will happen to you if you continue, then you are more stupid than I thought.
-No I-
-Not tonight, Regulus.
-But--
-Go away.
His brother's order gave him a supplication. Sirius had always had the effect of a rock which nothing shook. From small he was the one who knew how best to control himself as to the image he had shown to others. But tonight, Regulus had the impression that he was about to implode, like a supernova, and the youngest suddenly became aware of a mourner in his room.
Some furniture lay on the ground, objects had fallen, and Regulus recognized the snowball that their cousin Andromeda had given to Sirius a few years earlier. Now the glass was broken and the liquid was flowing to the ground.
Regulus turned, ready to leave, and what he saw chilled his blood. Next to the fireplace, sitting negligently on the dry wooden floor was a poker; whose point still orange and burning could have ignited his brother's room. But that seemed to be the cheerful of his worries. Regulus remained paralyzed for a few seconds by the vision of the still hot metallic object. And the only thought he had was:
When she had to, when she wanted, Walburga Black was not content with what her baguette allowed her to do.
The boy turned one last time to his brother. His expression had become more enclosed, and his eyes shouted to leave.
Regulus was not prayed.
Only, after closing the door behind him, he did not take the way to his room but climbed the stairs again. Still in shock, Regulus was no longer concerned about making noise or not. The only thing he felt now was the suffocation that overwhelmed him.
He had the impression that the walls around him were approaching inexorably. He desperately needed air, he was on the edge of the faint. He felt lost. This house was too big for him. He needed to meet again. So, he went up the markets until he found under the hell and open the hatch that led to the roof.
The wind slapped his face, but this time he kept his eyes open. Too bad if it made him cry. He greeted the fresh air with a smile before climbing to the highest he could. And the furthest from the rim. At last he looked up, and, as always, the star show took his breath away.
All the constellations were drawn above him and he began to search. Regulus was certainly one of the brightest stars in the Milky Way, and tonight he found himself very bland. He had to find Venus to finally see.
He was there.
She was there.
His star.
And he cried.
Regulus, the heart of the lion. The animal that symbolized bravery and courage. The ones everyone loved. The irony was that Regulus would never be. Neither brave. Nor brave. No loved one.
Never had he felt lonely more, and the memory of that early summer, when he had contemplated this same sky with his brother, redoubled his loneliness.
And under this starry sky, between tears and despairs, Regulus did not even have the courage to seek Sirius.