Chapter 1
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Dearest Reggie,"
The entire hall fell to a morbid silence. Not a soul dared to whisper, to mumble, to even breath. They all were witnessing the start of something not seen ever before. The boy under the hat paled down, if that was something possible to do taking into account his usual white skin. His eyes immediately drifted to the table adorned with green and gray flags and ties, one pair of eyes locked on him with more intensity than any one else in that room. Time seamed to slow down at a torturing pace, it kept going but it didn't stop.
"I am sorry."
And dear god didn't Sirius want time to stop right then and there.
"Mr. Black..." The soft spoken words and the small pats on his back woke him up from his trance. The hat was no longer over his head, it awaited to sentence the next young soul to their house while Sirius tried to fit somewhere he didn't belong. "Mr. Black, you should go to your house table, " Minerva McGonagall spoke with a voice he only had heard on herself. Soft. Merciful. It disgusted him.
Sirius nodded slightly and stood up. He still felt Narcissa's eyes over him, he could feel her bitting on her tongue, her closed fists wounding her palms, Sirius felt the anguish more than anything. He knew the thoughts floating on her mind for he had the same poisonous affirmation.
A Black as a Gryffindor.
What would he tell Mother? And Father? Sirius was the Heir. He had to be immaculate. Not a trace of failure, do not let them see behind your eyes, Sirius, don't let them see how shattering it is all on the inside. Blood is inside of your body for something after all. Wounds are abnormal. Do not get wounded.
Then how not to break once is red and gold around your neck.
"It is for my sake, and your own most of all,"
"'Ello there mate." A tall, evidently older, boy addressed Sirius as he guided him by the shoulders towards the Gryffindor table. He had light gray eyes and brown hair and that bright smile he seamed to wear by instinct all the time except for that one single moment. He looked as if he was struggling with his life to not make it tremble. Pathetic. "Here, sit right here." The boy said once the reached an empty spot on the table and pointed at it as if Sirius had be meant to sit there since the day the wood was craved. "Listen to me. Life eventually takes unexpected turns on the right direction, and I'm sure you'll make a wonderful Gryffindor."
Sirius wanted to vomit. He felt sick at sight. "A wonderful Gryffindor"? Didn't his name cause enough fear by it self to even dare address him as a "wonderful" anything? Black looked at his place on the table and looked back up to the prefect boy.
"Mind me." Sirius spoke somberly, the same way he had sawn his father do so many other times. "What may be your name again?"
"Frank, fella." The boy said smiling visibly with more ease. "Frank Longbottom and you can count on me if you need absolutely anything, alright?"
"Mr. Longbottom, I was wondering then where did you read such a quote?" Frank looked at Sirius and his smile trembled at the coldness of his voice. It lacked of all childhood joy, of all innocence, it was full of pain if you could call it that way, it lacked of life. Sirius kept his gaze locked with Frank's. "A book I dare assume, and a muggle one even more. I've never heard such a rubbish."
"I-" Frank was visibly conflicted. The words seamed to drown on the edge of his throat. "I wouldn't know what you mean mate."
"That you must, and you will, forget me."
Sirius looked- gazed into Frank's eyes just as much as a seer would gaze into your soul. The boy then drifted his eyes to the wooden seat awaiting for him as the first trace of evident emotion crossed his face. A chuckle that lacked of all grace, of all point. Once again his blue eyes were fixed upon the proper Gryffindor.
"Hear me. If I was set into Gryffindor, is either a tremendous mistake and you ought to burn that dusty old hat." Words leaked out of his mouth as the sourest of liquors. "Or I'm about to bring all this house to my feet."
The sorting had kept on going during this encounter, and some few new Gryffindors stood behind Longbottom staring in complete confusion —Mainly the muggle borns who had not the slightest clue of who was the black haired boy in front— and fear. Frank looked at Sirius for a while longer and then straightened up, looked behind him and gestured the new lions to take a seat somewhere of their like jus to turn back to Sirius one more time.
"This might be a shocker for you, Sirius, but Gryffindor is not a monarchy, there are no heads, no one is more important, and most of all, no one will come to no one's feet. You get me boy?" Frank spoke suddenly on a completely different tone. There was shame on it, of course, but there was a bright glint of authority. "Gryffindor is your house you like it or not."
Sirius could only smile at the joke.
"This might be a shocker for you, Frank. But my name is Black." Sirius turned and finally sat on his seat, not giving one more sight towards this Longbottom guy. "You ought to remember that one part."
He heard the footsteps leaving his back as soon as he finished his statement. Then the cold reality stroke on his shoulders once again.
A Gryffindor.
"Yours, sincerely,"
Sirius felt the sudden urge to cry. His eyes burned after all, and his chest ached with every breath he took. He was sitting on the table he was disgusted by during so many years. He could only think about the countless times Orion would tell him about his times on Slytherin, the common room, the dormitories, the quidditch uniform, the neat pattern of the tie. Things he would now never get to know because some stupid hat had thought it was a fun amusing idea to set him in between lions. Yes. Sirius wanted to cry. But he wouldn't just now, nor there, and hopefully not ever. He hated the damned feeling of it. The plate laid white in front of him while the rest of the dishes around were stuffed in beans, and toasts, and greens, and pudding, with all sort of different treats. His gaze got fixed into the white dish, submerged into the anguishing task of not crying in the middle of the great hall.
It was until and hand full of greens collapsed unto his plate that he woke up from it. A frown crossed his face.
"There you go, mate." A boy said right next to him. He had a cheerful voice. He obviously was sorted into the right house. Another hand full this time of beans. "You have to eat after such a day!"
Sirius glared at the plate suddenly feeling his stomach roar in hunger. He was hungry. But he was angry. So his glare took another victim. The boy next to him.
Well that was a sight.... Not good. Not bad. It was- a sight. The boy had enormous round glasses standing on the bridge of his nose, windowing his brown eyes and long lashes. He looked middle eastern, with his dark skin and his ruffled thick brown hair. But there was this thing in particular that made it impossible for Sirius to be disgusted by the boy. His smile shone brighter than all candlelights in the entire castle.
"Your brother, Sirius."
"Well wont you eat?" The boy said pointing with his fork to the plate now as stuffed as the rest of the table. The smile unwavering on his lips.
Sirius opened his mouth to speak but soon felt the weight of the knot on his throat, so he closed it back and shook his head. He heard the huff coming from the boy's mouth.
"Ah... Well then," He extended his hands to the plate and slid it to his side, making it pair with his now nearly empty —priorly full— plate. "More for me I guess."
Sirius felt the frown on his face deepening as he turned and looked at the boy now taking spoon fulls from his former plate. Two servings? After having a quite generous first one? Did this boy know no limits?
"Mind me, what is your name?" Sirius finally broke some words, the intrigue slowly shadowing over his fear. The boy's smile grew larger if that was even possible. He chewed a bit more and swallowed with an even bigger smile and a hand extended for a handshake.
"James. James Fleamont Potter."
A Potter.
"P.S: No matter what. I'm never allowing your light to die, my star."
Sirius's brows raised as he took the hand out of reflex and shook it.
He had heard about the Potters. Blood traitors.
"So a Potter you say," Sirius said retiring his hand. The pride on James's eyes shone nearly as bright as his smile. "So a blood traitor."
"Oh no, nothing of that." James replied within a chuckle. "I prefer to call it an outlaw of the common."
Sirius couldn't help but break a small yet obvious smile. The boy had his charisma, no doubt of it. The guilt had an awful bitter taste on his tongue, to be talking with a blood traitor and what was more, sympathizing with him. But the look on his eyes and the tone of his voice was sweeter than that, and he had no idea why, but Sirius found himself wanting to continue on talking with this James Potter boy.
"What about you?" James asked and Sirius frowned at him. "You know," He said as he took a spoon-full of greens to his mouth. "Your name."
Sirius's face deadpanned.
"You don't know my name?"
"No, I know your name."
"Then why would you ever ask for it if you know it already?"
James shrugged and took another spoon of beans this time to his mouth.
"I'dunno, I guess I do like it when other people present themselves rather than me just assuming I know them." James spoke and cleaned his mouth with a napkin. "You know names carry a weight only the owner knows."
"Whatever that means?"
"Whatever that means." James replied chuckling and pouring some water into his goblet." Mum said so once. Not so sure what it means. You want some?" He added gesturing to Sirius's goblet and the jar of water on his hands. Sirius nodded slightly and saw as the water fell into his goblet. "So?"
"So?"
"Your name!"
"Sirius."
"Sirius..."
He looked up at James and felt something he had never felt before. Innocence. It vanished in the blink of a second, but for that glorious, precious second, Sirius had been an innocent child tempted to laugh.
"Orion Black The Third."
"Well that's a fun choice of names." A new voice joined the conversation with an amused chuckle. Sirius turned instantly to face this new boy. Short, dirty blond hair, ocean blue eyes, chubby little boy. He looked way to young to be in there, he was by no chance eleven. The boy must have felt the inquisitor look from Sirius's eyes for he shrank on his place and cleared his throat. "But I also have a long posh name, so don't worry."
"Peter William Gerald Pettigrew." James spoke with a sophisticated accent, marking every initial of every name as if his life depended on it.
"Sod off James." Peter said chuckling ashamed and tossing him a green bean. James dodged it and laughed while muttering a small "Alright, sorry then."
"Well at least you don't have a title." James said still laughing. "The third? Seriously? How many Sirius Orion Black's are enough?"
"Oh that's not even my full name." Both boys had they gaze fixed upon him awaiting. "I'm still missing three in there."
"THREE?!"
"You must be entirely off yourselves if you ever dare and think I'll tell you which are those."
"Bold of you to assume those two don't know already they are out of themselves." A third boy —Blimey no one knew the meaning of privacy— spoke up.
"Oh come on Ronald!" James said chuckling, hesitating a bit with the name.
"Not my name."
"Roger?"
"Not either"
James had a puzzled look on his face. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the new member of the conversation, a thin, green eyed, messy haired boy with one ore two small weird lines over his face.
"Remanuel."
"Remanuel?" Sirius repeated slowly trying to find some sort of excuse to such an idea.
"You'll get there some day." The boy said laughing and taking one spoon full of beans to his mouth. James still looked at him with squinted eyes and chewing on his bottom lip in extreme concentration. Mr. Green eyes looked at him trying to contain a laugh until the realization stroke James's eyes who started clapping and stuttering and laughing.
"REMUS! REMUS LUPIN THAT IS!"
"There you go."
Sirius turned to face Remus and looked at him deadpan.
"Now that is the most unfortunate name you could have ever gotten." He spoke nonchalantly and taking a sip from his water, the name still ringing on his ears as he swallowed. "Mind me, Mr. Wolf Wolf."
Remus seamed to have a hard time with his smile, enough of a hard time to rush and take his own goblet and drink its water bottom up. Well that was odd.
"Alright everyone!" Once again this Frank Longbottom guy spoke. "Up! Time to go to sleep, I'll guide you to your dormitories."
And everyone did as told. And once again the weight of reality crushed Sirius.
Gryffindor.
The grand staircases had almost given him a panic attack, they were either too slow, or too fast, or not long enough, or too long. He couldn't picture himself going into that same maze every single day for the rest of his school life. Yet again it was over just as soon as it started.
Call it fate, destiny, or James Potter and his "Please please please please please", but Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter ended up all together in the same dormitory.
Sirius didn't know why, but he, for some reason, expected him to have a personal room, not having to share with no one. Just him and the darkness of night and the warmth of the morning. No one else. Childish, and posh way to think if you were to ask him some years later.
What followed was Sirius getting on his bed, after writing a quick short letter, closing the curtains of it and making an attempt at a silencing spell. Not perfect but not too bad. Enough to muffle his sobs and questions and screams and how he cried himself to sleep that and many other following nights.
"To my dearest brother, Sirius,"
That morning had been eventful.
It was the first morning in which Regulus had woken up by body instinct rather than for the shaking on his shoulder and the soft spoken words in french to go and see the dusk. Or the first morning in which he woke up to find himself on his normal room rather than in a room covered in sunflowers, or with snow during summer, or with bubbles working as prisms to the sunlight. It had been just himself in a dull gray room.
Sirius was in Hogwarts. That was evident.
For his part, Regulus didn't quite know what the next few months were going to be like. He knew that his brother would be back for Yule in December, that there would be the usual family dinner to celebrate that the family was still going strong. The last one to receive such a dinner was Narcissa a few years ago after returning with a bright smile and the green and silver tie around her neck. In a matter of months it would be Sirius coming home with the Slytherin tie and surely countless stories to tell him during those nights in the attic. December seemed so far away, however, and the time Sirius would spend at home was minimal before returning to Hogwarts for another six months.
It felt almost pathetic, feeling that emptiness and uncertainty of dependence on his brother. Perhaps he would understand it a few years ago, when they were both younger, but Regulus was well on his way to his eleventh birthday and he was ashamed to admit that he dreaded living in a house where Sirius was not present. So he kept repeating to himself over and over again for the last 24 hours, "It's only for a year, and then you're going with him.
Just one year.
"Why to forgive you."
"ARGH!"
Regulus sat bold up at the sound of the dreadful scream. Everything inside of him shivered, his heart was beating faster and faster and his palms held a tight grip on the bed sheets as his eyes shot closed once again. Feeling in danger, just waiting for Sirius to storm into his room and tell him to build a fort with the blankets and hide all day long, playing games or reading. But Sirius wasn't there was he. So it was up to Regulus now.
Following the scream Regulus heard how his mother and father argued, another thing Sirius would also make sure Regulus never had to see first hand, but oh well, we all know where Sirius was at the moment. And of course Orion and Walburga were in constant quarrel about the slightest of details, but this time it just felt different. Maybe because Sirius hadn't shown up in the span of five seconds to make him forget that.
But curiosity killed the cat, didn't it.
He stepped down his bed and felt the cold strike of the floor on his bare feet, not minding the pinching and the sudden tingling on his body of standing up after waking up. He still held a tight grip this time of his pijama trousers, playing with the fabric and grounding himself as he approached more and more the door that connected his room with the rest of the house. One or two steps and he was already out of his bedroom, following the sound of his mother's voice, following the sound of the French arguing, the sound of the Romanian answering.
That was the only one thing that divided Regulus from his brother in some way. While Regulus was born in Burdeos, France —Like Mother dearest— Sirius had been born in Constanza, Romania —Like Father darling—. Mother and Father had "divorced" on some terms a year or so after Sirius was born, Walburga moved back to her home town in France without the knowledge of being pregnant with Regulus at the time. Sirius stayed with Orion in Romania for the best part of four years and Regulus with Walburga in France during two. It was then the need to protect the Black name that both Orion and Walburga chose to some how get back together and live as a proper family in England. So that was the funny little thing, Orion and Sirius would speak in Romanian with each other, Walburga and Regulus would speak in French with each other, while Sirius and Regulus just talked. Sirius asked in Romanian, Regulus understood and replied on French, and Sirius would understand carry on. It was their own world in which nationality or language was worth as much as a crumb of bread. Still Orion and Walburga had not developed the patience nor the relationship to be able and survive with each other regardless of the language. Prove of that the actual fight.
"You raised him since the beginning." Walburga's voice was muffled by the distance and walls that Regulus still had to get through to be in the same room as all the chaos. "The bases, Orion, you gave him the bases and look how it ended."
"The bases?" Now he heard his father. It was harder to understand him but he recalled a good part of his speech. "I had the boy for his first four years, what sort of bases you expect a boy to have?!"
"Toujours pur!"
That's when he stopped understanding. They spoke one over the other, way too fast, not the same language and both with the burning urge to be right. It was just matter of steps for Regulus to find himself in between both the storm and the hurricane. So one and two steps and he was there. Walburga sat on a chair in front of the fire, her pale delicate hand covering her eyes as the other still held tightly on the crumbled piece of paper meant to be for an answer to who ever sent the letter first. Orion, on the other hand, stood by the window looking through the crack of the curtains, the only glimpse of sunlight breaking through the thick fabric over the window, the rest of the living room was lit up by candle lights and the fire on the chimney, it gave the place a sense of... captivity.
He didn't know if they had noticed he was there, but Regulus didn't mind, all he wanted to know was what was going on and what had to do the scream with it. And Sirius because who else but him got raised by Orion for four years.
Regulus scanned everything around, the candle lights, the dagger to open the letters, some fallen seals with the symbol of Hogwarts and a letter shattered and scattered on the floor. The boy of gray eyes chewed the interior of his cheeks as he felt the urge to go pick up piece by piece and form the letter like a jigsaw, to know and figure out what was so outraging that the ink wrote on it.
"How to forget you."
And he did so. Making sure his footsteps weren't noticed, that his breathing was a ghost, that the paper brushing against his fingers was dimmer than the embers on the fireplace. It all felt like stealing when in reality he was just looking for what truly concerned him. Regulus picked up the first piece of paper and turned it so the information would face him. It felt like boiling iron to bare hands. It was instant the way he allowed the paper to fall from his hands and standing up. His eyes were the personification of pure terror, all his efforts to not be noticed vanished as soon as the blinding red and gold drowned his eyes, his feet stumbled he choked a gasp and he stuttered all kind of questions, none coherent enough to obtain an answer. Orion was the first to notice him, stepping away from the window and looking numbly towards the wreck his younger son was. Regulus looked into his father's eyes and found all sort of confirmation in the dreadful and cold blue of the same.
Sirius was a Gryffindor.
There was nothing much to do about it. They couldn't just go and demand a change of house, that was of so little dignity, so unlike them. What about their name? It was already stained enough as it was to go and have the childish charade to demand a change in fate. Regulus had wished and longed for December to arrive less than ten minutes ago and now he just wanted it to never arrive.
Sirius was a Gryffindor.
What was so awful about it? Why did it scare and outrage Regulus as much as it did? Maybe it was the sight of his parents, the tapestry in the walls with Sirius's name lingering from it's branch. Maybe it was the way Orion looked at him and the way Walburga didn't dare to move her head even when she knew Regulus was there. Then again... why was it so terrible for them both.
Regulus didn't know but what he did know is that a snake was no where to be find among lions.
His feet guided him back to his room, running and skipping stair steps, he had no idea why but Regulus found himself with tears flooding his eyes and his fists clenching. He was once again in the safety of his room, with his books, the blankets, the paper, the mobiles, the endless sketches scattered in the walls, sketches of hands and flowers and elements, most from Regulus and then sketches of faces and people and emotions, most of Sirius. Gifts. Suddenly his room felt like the less safe place to be. But the attic was not an option either, nor the gardens nor anywhere. Everything had to do with Sirius and Regulus was already loosing his brother enough to go after him.
That was it.
Regulus sat on the floor crosslegged against the door, feeling his tears rolling down and his chest compressing and setting free with every choked sob he hoped to hide. That's when he understood where all this fear and rage and pain came from. It was not going to be just one year. Sirius and Regulus might eventually be in Hogwarts at the same time but not together, Sirius maybe would come back home but he was no longer the Sirius that had left the prior day, Regulus might see him in the hall ways or the great hall but that was not his brother. It was a lion. And Regulus couldn't just accept that.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Master Regulus." The soar voice of the house elf made Regulus flinch on his place, too drowned in his own silence and thought he had locked away the exterior of his room. "Master Regulus," The elf repeated at the same time the boy cleaned dry his eyes, ignoring how hard he was going on the and ignoring how probably the skin would go red for some minutes. "A letter has arrived for you, Master."
<<A letter?>>
"The is no need to extinguish a fire that is hurting no one."
Regulus sniffled slightly and stood from his place on the floor, feeling his back hurt at the sudden new position, his hand reaching to the door knob and stoping just ad his skin brushed the cold silver. He bit on his tongue and took one deep breath as he stepped back from the door, looking towards the floor, the minuscule gap between the end of it and the wooden surface.
"Slide it under, Kreacher." Regulus replied softly, still looking at that one point, waiting for the elf to obey. For few seconds he heard Kreacher mumbling and ruffling until he finally heard the sound of the paper brushing against the floor. It was just matter of seconds for Regulus to finally see the white envelope standing at his feet, his own name facing up. "Thank you."
"Live to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." Kreacher spoke as he walked away and his voice became fainter and fainter with distance, abandoning Regulus once again to the silence of his room.
" 'Regulus Arcturus Black' "
He didn't have to read that twice to start bitting harder on his tongue and feeling his eyes flooding. It was the handwriting he had sawn so many other times, the same one he never understood and yet again was so neat it was impossible not to read. And this time he understood with blinding clearness.
<<Sirius.>>
Regulus threw himself to pick up the letter and ran to his writing desk, seeing the faint sun light bathing the paper and the ink over it. Even again the sun Regulus could recognize the calligraphy of his brother. And he didn't know if the pressure on his chest was either thrill or pain, all he could think of was of his brother writing that letter with a red quill, on a Gryffindor adorned room, with cheerful and naive people around him and just maybe Sirius finding himself not hating it. What if in fact Sirius didn't despise the idea of being a Gryffindor? What if one day he just accepted it? What if the letter was completely different of what he expected? "Hello Reggie! Guess what!! I am sorted into Gryffindor? Isn't it absolutely wicked!!? Love, Sirius". Regulus just wanted to cry with the simple idea.
He slid his finger in between the paper gap of the envelope and broke the seal with a trembling breathing and his eyes burning, the sound of the paper tearing was deafening, it was overwhelming to be millimeters away from something that could break him and still running to its arms. What if Sirius didn't feel remorse. It was an awful confession to make but Regulus wanted for Sirius to feel remorse, fear, pain, anguish with the simple view of the red tie around his neck. He wanted Sirius to beg for forgiveness or offer himself to anything to be redeemed, it was a complete outraging thought to have but at least that way Regulus would know that he wasn't loosing his older brother.
He pulled out the letter and unfolded it. The ink was still fresh. It stained his fingers.
"Dearest Reggie,"
Sirius's voice was loud ant clear on Regulus's head.
"I am sorry.
"It is for my sake, and your own most of all,
that you must, and you will, forget me.
Yours, sincerely,
Your brother, Sirius.
P.S: No matter what. I'm never allowing your light to die, my star."
Forget him? Whatever for? Regulus felt something with more sense than what he had felt earlier. He was no longer afraid for himself, he was afraid for his brother. Why to forget him. Why when he was sure not even an Obliviate would be able to make Regulus forget Sirius then why even to try. He had always known that Sirius had a view of life slightly brighter than himself, he was eventually over sensitive and had an imagination that bordered senseless. By all means Sirius knew the word drama and Regulus had been first row witness to several of Sirius's Shakespearean fits. But this...
"—that you must, and you will, forget me.—"
Why to forget him.
"Awaiting for your next letter,"
Maybe for the knowledge that life wont ever be the same. But Regulus knew one thing for certain. If Sirius jumped, he would jump. If Sirius fell, he would fall as well. That was another difference. If Regulus fell, Sirius would probably catch him. Both knew the one couldn't go without the other, the thing is that one of them would quit it all and the other would hold unto it a while longer. But if Sirius was the one asking Regulus to quit it all then he was not only scared. Sirius must be and was utterly frightened. Terrified. Of Mother. Of Father. Sirius must be afraid to set foot on their house even for one second.
That's when a new fear was unlocked for Regulus.
What if Sirius never came back.
Regulus knew Mother would hate Sirius, Father would resent him, the least that was expected from Regulus was to feel a balanced mix of both. And he could. He could glare at him at dinners, and he could avoid him whenever they were on the living room, he could mumble things such as "What a heir we have" or "So outrageous from a Black". Regulus could hate Sirius from the core of his heart, he could despise him along with his parents, he could stand by Walburga's side while Orion lectured Sirius, but Regulus knew too damn well that as soon as their parents were out of sight he could drop of charade, all game, all part and run to his brother's side, hold unto him and linger for as long as he could.
Both of them were stars right? All stars die. He was not allowing Sirius's light to die.
"Your brother, Regulus."
"Letter for Sirius Orion Black the bloody third!" James said picking up the letter from the dinning table and shaking it in front of said boy. Sirius looked awful and yet perfect. Must be a Black thing, James dared to assume.
"Give me that." Sirius's hands reached for the envelope. He didn't quite grasp the fact or the idea perhaps on why this James Potter boy was so darn friendly even after scarcely meeting him last night. And I say scarcely because the dinner conversation was as far as they got. Once the four boy reached the dorms Sirius confined himself to his bed and wrote to his brother all night long, letter after letter, not being able to find to most appropriate words to describe the impossible yet befallen. It was bordering dusk when Sirius found himself with a proper letter to send to his brother.
He didn't expect a reply in the next couple of days. Or ever if he was to be honest. What he did expect was a howler from his mother, he sharp anguishing voice making sure the entire great hall was aware of what a disgrace Sirius was to the name he wore.
Yet again that one envelope didn't look like a howler.
Sirius opened it, read the first few words, and the paper became suddenly heavier than anything else he had lifted ever before.
"To my dearest brother, Sirius"
He could taste the blood on his mouth, he could feel his teeth craving on his tongue with ever word that got written by his brother's hand. The ink was still fresh. His hands got stained. Sirius could feel how some one stood or peaked over his shoulder, he heard the labored breathing and the grunting trying to keep balance, he felt the breath on his nape and knew by a fact some one was reading behind him, yet again his brother's words were more important at the moment.
"Who is..." James Potter spoke softly as he went back to his seat after giving up on reading over Sirius's shoulder. "Regulus?"
Sirius stared at the paper for a while longer, then folded the letter neatly and pocketed it seeing how a second letter landed in front of him, this time with all the looks of being the so awaited howler.
"None of your business, Potter." Sirius muttered and finally dared to open the red envelope.
"SIRIUS. ORION. BLACK."
Yes, it was from Mother.