First Blood
Walburga’s anger was never quiet. It was loud and messy. Screaming, shouting and painful. Sirius was well accustomed to her anger so when he refused, he knew what he was getting into. She would hurt him, but that was par for the course of being a disobedient son. He was ready for the pain. He would take it and she would think she could eventually break him, but he knew better. He was confident that he was strong enough to take whatever she gave him.
“Everte Statum” The last thing Sirius could remember was being thrown violently backwards and his head hitting the solid pewter wall sconce before he fell unconscious.
When Sirius’s senses returned it was with a scream that was ripped from his desperate mouth. A blunt knife was piercing his abdomen, his chest, his throat. It was sliding in and out over and over again ripping apart his skin, muscles and organs. His arms were flung above his head with his hands impaled with rusty hooks. His nails were slowly and exquisitely being ripped out one by one and acid poured on the bleeding stubs. Poison was being tipped down his throat igniting a fire in his oesophagus and snaking its way down to his stomach. A flame was held to his inner thighs burning and melting the soft skin. A razor sharp scalpel flayed the skin from his face. Blood was pouring out of the wounds… from his eyes… from his mouth.
He was being crucified, flayed alive, poisoned, stabbed, burnt. Sirius couldn't understand how he wan’t already dead. It was too much. It was intolerable. His body could not withstand it. Why wasn’t he dead? Please, let him die.
And then it was over.
His moaned weakly with his cheek pressed to the hardwood floor. He forced his eyes open and tried to sit up but his arms were shaking too much for him to support his weight. He’d only risen a few centimetres before he collapsed back to the floor breathing hard. He tried again when he heard the ringing click of his mothers black heals on the floorboards, but it was no use.
Before he could force himself up, his mother hit him with a wordless spell. Sirius could feel an invisible hand grasp his jaw and force his face upwards. Walburga stood above him her nose wrinkled in distaste, like he was mud clinging to her riding boots. Sirius stared back into her cold eyes with a sense of unreality.
He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. She had never been that cruel, even in the face of his sorting into Gryffindor. Even when he antagonised her over family dinners or he stuck up the obscene posters of muggle women with permanent sticking charms. She had never even gone this far when he disavowed her belief in the purity of blood. There was shouting and hitting and stinging and cutting, but never that - never the Cruciatus.
Sirius understood now why it was considered an unforgivable. He would never forget what had happened, and he would never forgive her. He didn’t know how long he had been under the curse, but he had already been begging for death. He would never forgive his mother for crossing that line. This was the end for them both.
“Do you understand now, Sirius?” Her tone was mocking, “How weak you are?” She brought her wand up to jab into his throat. Walburga’s voice was low and dangerous as she leaned in next to his ear, “How dare you refuse this power. You are heir to the house of Black, you will do your duty.”
His throat was raw from screaming, but even in his darkest moment Sirius was a fighter. There was a reason he had been sorted into Gryffindor. He was courageous and reckless in the same measure; and he’d never had much sense of self preservation.
His laughter came out strangled and laced with pain, but it was unstoppable. “You bitch, I’ll nev - “ Sirius’s words were cut off as Walburga slapped him with the back of her ring adorned hand. Her gaudy emerald wedding ring cut his cheek and blood started to run down his face. Sirius’s mouth opened in surprise.
He looked up and his mother was breathing hard with her eyes were blazing. This was unexpected given she had usually never laid her hands on them. Walburga Black was a pureblood witch, she would never lower herself to inflicting punishments with muggle methods. Her wand was enough of a weapon that she had never needed her hands.
He spit his next words at her with as much venom as he could muster, “I will never join him. It’ll be over my cold dead body.” His mother was silent as she watched the the blood run down his face and trickle onto his neck. Sirius brought his trembling hand up to wipe it away. “Do your worst.”
For a long moment Walburga stood considering him. They were at a stalemate. Sirius would never give in and there was nothing she could do to him would change his decision. He would not join Voldermort. He would not torture and kill innocent people for no other reason than the parents that had birthed them. He would rather die, and perhaps tonight he would. His death was written on his mothers face. There is no way she would let him go after this.
As mother and son stared at each-other Sirius’s thoughts flashed to James. His best friend, his platonic soulmate. James was the one of the best and brightest things in Sirius’s life. He shone so brightly that he could chase the shadows away when they treated to consume him. There were so many nights where Sirius had slipped out of his own bed and into James’ where he would hold Sirius without question until his breathing evened out and the nightmares would recede. Nightmares made of his own blood and his mother’s face. It used to be Reggie who would hold him… but that was before his sorting and Walburga’s vicious voice broke them apart. Now it was James who held him together.
Sirius wondered if the Mauraduers will know he’s dead when he didn’t show up this first of September. Will they just think Sirius is late for the train? Will they sit together in the train compartment hopefully eyeing the entrance, waiting for Sirius to appear? Or will they jump off the train as the whistle blows with desperate eyes searching the platform? He can imagine James will refuse to believe it until Sirius doesn’t show up for welcome feast. Then perhaps it might hit him.
And Remus… Moony. His Moony. He hadn’t even been able to say he loved… Sirius’ mind veered away from those thoughts, it hurt too much.
He hoped his friends will be smart enough to stay away, but he knew James is just as hot-headed as Sirius. He’d show up to number twelve Grimmauld place screaming and cursing. Moony would join him even if he knew that Grimmauld will remain silent and invisible to them bathed in its ancient enchantments. Pete will come too even if he’s scared, he loved Sirius too. Walburga and Orion would ignore them like the muggles who passed by, until they give up. At least Sirius hoped they would ignore them.
Tears prickled at the sides of his eyes but he refused to let Walburga see them. His mother’s mouth turned up in a cruel imitation of a smile. It seemed she had come to a decision.
“Kreachre!” The house elf came scurrying into the parlour and bowed to his mistress. “Bring Regulus.” She said flatly. His mother waved her wand and the invisible hand forced Sirius to his feet. “Clearly you need more of an incentive.”
His stomach dropped. Why did she need Regulus? He was the good son wasn’t he? Was she going to make him torture Sirius more? Did she think that torture that came from the hand of someone he once loved, and if he admitted it to himself, that he still loved, would hurt more? He didn’t want Regulus to have to go through that. Even if they weren’t speaking right now, hurting Sirius would make him feel guilty.
“Imperio.” His mother mutter the words and Sirius's brain short-circuited. He was floating blissfully in a cloud and there were no more worries. His shaking hands stilled and his eyes turned glassy. Everything was fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. He could do anything.
Take the letter-opener. Stand behind the door.
Sirius was happy to do what he was told, it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. He grabbed the sharp letter-opener off the corner desk and strode over to hover behind the open door. Sirius vaguely registered his brother entering the room.
“Mother, you wanted me?” Regulus’s words flittered across Sirius’s blissfully blank mind like a puff of smoke. If there was a trepidation in his brother’s voice Sirius couldn’t hear it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was what the small voice told him to do. Everything would be fine if he kept listening to the voice. He was calm.
Walburga responded to him in a clipped tone. “I need to you to teach your brother a lesson.” Regulus’s mask of nonchalance broke for a brief second as the muscles in his neck tightened.
“I’m not sure what you mean, mother.” Regulus’ bit his lip as his spotted the small smears of blood on the floor. Sirius stayed silent where he was.
Stab him, hurt him.
For a moment the shock of the order brought Sirius out of his daze and his foot halted before taking a step.
Stab him. Hurt Him.
The voice was more insistent - louder. He was floating again. Everything would be fine. fine. fine. fine.
Sirius lunged at his brother from behind with the sharp point of the letter-opener and drove it down into the hollow above his collar bone. Regulus cried out in shock and pain as he whirled around.
“Sirius! What? Aargh -“ His cries were cut off as Sirius pulled out the sharp blade and without pause plunged it down into his brothers chest. The sides of Regulus’s eyes crinkled with pain as he tried to comprehend what was happening. His brother stumbled backward and his legs hit the coffee table. He automatically brought his hands up in front of his face to defend himself from Sirius’s next attack but Sirius simply lunged and cut the palm of Regulus’ hand.
Regulus desperately tried to grab Sirius’s arm to fend him off, but his years as a Gryffindor beater meant he was much stronger than his younger brother. He broke out of the grip easily and stabbed Regulus between his ribs. The momentum of the attack hurled Regulus to the ground with Sirius following close behind him. His brother's head hit the ground with a sickening thud and Regulus’ expression slackened as his eyelids fluttered from the impact.
Sirius straddled him to keep him pinned to the ground as he took the point of the letter-opener and dragged it harshly down the centre of Regulus’ chest. Regulus came back to himself screaming and thrashing violently as he tried to push Sirius off him. The next cut was across Regulus’s cheek as he desperately and ineffectually clawed as the arm holding the blade. Sirius ignored the struggles and continued to slash and stab at his brother laying beneath him. He couldn’t see the betrayal in his brothers eyes. He didn’t hear the low gurgle in his lungs.
Stab him. Hurt him.
Sirius looked down at his brothers pale face from a thousand feet in the air as he brought the sharp blade across his skin again and again. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t actually happening. He was fine. He was floating on air and nothing mattered except that little voice in his head. Regulus’ breathing started to stutter and hitch as blood pooled beneath him.
“Sirius… please… stop.” His brothers arms fell limply next to Sirius’s bent legs.
Stop.
Sirius immediately released the blade and it fell to the floor. His mother strode into view and he gazed at her with dim awareness. Then everything snapped back into excruciating detail. Sirius could smell the thick tang of blood in the air and started up immediately. Horrified, he forced himself to look down at his brother laying at his feet. Regulus’s eyes were unfocused, his mouth was slightly parted and a small trail of blood was leaking from the corner. His normally pale skin was white like bleached bone, which made the bright red blood stand out starkly on his skin. His chest was rising weakly with every rattling breath that was drawn in.
A whimper escaped Sirius’s mouth, “No…” He dropped to his knees with his hands fluttering over his brothers body. His little brother was bleeding out in front of him, because of him, and he had no idea what to do. “Reggie. Please, please stay with me. You can’t — please. I didn’t mean it. It’s not — I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” There was blood everywhere. It stained Regulus’s white evening shirt and pooled around him. Sirius’s hands were covered with it as he attempted to stop it flowing out of the jagged wounds he had made.
“Now do you understand?” His mothers cold voice cut across the haze. Sirius had honestly forgotten she was even there but his eyes snapped up with a silent entreaty. Please save him.
“…Mother please,” he implored, “Fix him, you have to fix him. FIX HIM!” Sirius voice rose in panic until he was shouting.
“This is what true power looks like.” Walburga sneered as she looked down at her two sons. “Clearly, you are too weak to fight back Sirius. Others will pay for your weakness.”
“I’ll do anything,” Sirius pleaded, “Anything. Please. Please just don’t let him die.” He was hysterical as he begged on his knees. This couldn’t be happening.
“I will heal him. With conditions.” His mother said imperiously, like she was a god who got to decide who lived and who died. Sirius grasped at the lifeline. He couldn’t let his little brother die, that was not an option.
“Anything, anything,” he begged.
“You will uphold the name of your noble house and behave as is befitting the first son of the house of Black.” Her voice allowed no quarter.
“Yes, Maman. Please can you just fix— “ Walburga cut him off.
“You will not associate with those blood traitors you call friends.” James, Remus and Peter’s faces blaze to the front of his mind. Sirius let out a sob, how could he possibly let them go? They were his only reason for living. Then he looked down at his brother’s ashen face and knew that wasn’t true. “Yes, Maman. Pease…” He whispered.
“You will join the Dark Lord in his glorious mission and take the mark. You will proudly serve him.” His mother was impassive as tears spilt down Sirius’s face. His hands shook as he wrapped his arms around himself trying to hold himself together. It felt like the world was cracking and falling apart. There is no way he could agree to this.
He walked into this room tonight knowing he might die. But killing his own brother? That was intolerable. Sirius wavered and was silent.
“Siri—Sirius?” He could barely hear his brothers voice, it was so weak. He grabbed Regulus’s limp hand and leaned over him.
“Shhh don’t talk, it will be ok. Everything is going to be ok. I promise.” His tears dropped onto Regulus’s face and mixed with the blood like watercolour paint.
“Sirius… I’m afraid.” Regulus was crying softly, “I don’t want to die.” Sirius tightened his grip on his brothers cold hand.
“You won’t. I’ll fix it. I promised I’ll never leave you behind.” Sirius brought his other hand to stroke his brothers hair.
“Then why…“ Regulus coughed weakly and more blood sluggishly seeped from his mouth.
Sirius was struck down in horror, “I didn’t— I — It wasn’t me. I didn’t. I didn’t, I swear.” But Regulus didn’t respond, his face was lax and his eyes were clouded.
“If you refuse me your brother will die thinking you meant to kill him.” His mothers words closed the lid to his coffin. Sirius knew there was no escaping anymore.
“He’s you son too! HE’S YOUR FUCKING SON TOO!” Sirius’s face was feral as he screamed at his mother. “How can you do this? What kind of fresh hell is this?” He hid his face in his hands unable to look at her any longer.
“Enough,” Walburga snapped, running out of patience, ”Make your choice.” It was over and she knew it.
It was agony, but Sirius managed to force out one word.
“Yes.” His breathing hitched hitched and he thought he might be physically ill, “I will join him.” Walburga smiled in triumph.
“Good. Move aside.” His mother knelt beside Regulus and began to chant low and melodically while waving her want in complex circular patterns. Sirius’s body seemed to go numb and he sat back with his ears ringing. Sirius’s could only stare as his mother knit his brother’s torn flesh back together. He noticed Walburga was careful to be far enough away that her skirts didn’t get a drop of blood on them.
She summoned a bottle of blood replenishment potion from the stores and forced it down Regulus’s throat. A little colour came back to his cheeks and Sirius began to breath deeper. His brother would live, and that’s all that mattered right now. He refused to think of anything else, otherwise he might break apart all over again.
“The Dark Lord plans for the initiation to occur in two days.” Walburga said to him as she tipped a second blood replenishment potion into Regulus’s mouth. It sounded so nonchalant, like she was discussing family dinner plans and not the annihilation of Sirius’s soul while hovering over his half dead brothers body.
“You will be ready, and you will not disappoint me or your father.” Her tone brooked no argument. “You’re dismissed.” Sirius rose shakily but when he tried to take a step dark spots began to cloud his vision. He stumbled before leaning heavily on the wall gasping.
“Oh, for Salazars sake. Kreacher!” The elf reappeared immediately after his mother called. The elf kept his eyes lowed as Walburga gave him instructions. “See Sirius to his room and apply dittany to his face so it won’t scar.” She rose and smoothed out her skirts. “Afterwards, come back for Regulus.”
As dazed as he was Sirius let Kreacher help him down the corridor and up the stairs to his room. As soon as his head hit the pillow his body gave up and he fell unconscious.