Chapter 14
Sirius ran the comb through his hair for what felt like the 100th time. He hoped that with enough hair-slicking potion, his mother wouldn’t be angered by the length it had grown over the school year. It wasn’t uncommon for pure-blood wizards to have long hair. The Malfoys for one were known for their long blonde locks, but if his mother caught wind that he actually liked how he looked then she would force him to get rid of it in a heartbeat. He just had to make sure he looked more like a knob, and less like a rockstar.
He felt a nervous pit deep within his stomach. It would be the first time he saw either of his parents since last summer, and it was bound to be unpleasant. He hoped Regulus was doing okay. The train ride home had been interesting, to say the least.
Sirius had gone to him immediately once Crouch and Rosier had showed up at the Marauders train car, he hadn’t even thought twice about it. He sat with him the rest of the way to London, trying to comfort him with empty promises that everything would be alright. He kicked Crouch and Rosier out early on. They made him nervous, and he was particularly worried about Rosier spreading word about the whole thing to his family, who were acquaintances of the Blacks and part of the Sacred 28 pureblood families. They also creeped him out.
He let the Lovegood girl stay. Her soft and chiming voice seemed to calm Regulus down and it was clear she had been in that position before— had been the one to talk Regulus out of one of his episodes like Sirius had done so many times when they were kids. The two of them took turns talking about nothing and everything, just anything to distract Regulus from the thoughts that were causing him to spiral.
The girl reminded him of James, the way she flitted from topic to topic without reason. She was apparently excited to try out some experimental potion recipe with her mum who worked as a potioneer in the same lab as Monty. He wondered briefly if she knew James, but the thought left his head as soon as she started talking about the infestation of nargles that had taken over her owl coop.
Regulus’ breathing had returned to normal, but he still didn’t speak and gazed unseeingly out the window as the Scottish countryside passed them by. Sirius was concerned with the far-off look on his face, but it was a whole lot better than hyperventilating. Sirius and Pandora continued to ramble, hoping that it would help at least a little.
Kreature, the Black family house elf, was already waiting for them when they arrived at Platform 9 ¾. He greeted Sirius coolly, fulfilling his duty of serving the oldest Black brother despite his obvious disdain for him. Kreature had never liked him, not that he cared. To Sirius, Kreature was just an extension of his mother. He did everything she said, and half of her punishments were even administered by the old wrinkly thing.
Regulus was a whole other story. Kreature adored him and he knew Regulus felt pretty much the same way. Kreature clocked his damp lashes and pulled on the leg of his pants until Regulus looked at him. “Kreature is pleased to see Master Regulus.” Sirius would have rolled his eyes if the circumstances were different. Kreature was always trying to suck up to his brother.
James had caught his eye from across the station. He had changed into a bright red jumper and stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of muted colors. Their eyes met at the same time, and as they did so, James nudged Remus and Peter beside him, and they both turned to look. They seemed like they were about to head over to where he stood, but Sirius just shot them a wink and grabbed onto Kreature’s bony hand. A goodbye would have been too hard. A second later, they were in the foyer of Grimmauld Place.
He was brought out of his reverie when Kreature appeared in the center of his room with a crackling pop just as he was putting the finishing touches on his hair. “Master Sirius, dinner—”
“I know,” he snapped and slammed his comb onto the dressing table so hard it shook the mirror.
Dinner was mostly quiet, the only sound being the scraping of silverware against the fine china. Orion Black was noticeably absent, and Walburga Black sat at the head of the table in her husband’s place. This was a regular occurrence at Grimmauld Place as the two could hardly stand to be in the same room, save for events when they put on the façade of the perfect married couple for the sake of the Black reputation.
Walburga wore black collared robes that went down to the floor and her hair was in a neat pulled-back style. She clutched her silverware with talon-like fingers and gazed at her sons with a critical eye. Sirius didn’t look up from his plate lest he make eye contact with her. He forced himself to eat, hardly tasting anything he put in his mouth.
Sirius and Regulus both looked up when their mother cleared her throat, they had been waiting for it. She snapped her fingers and Kreature appeared before her. He bowed so low that his nose almost pressed against the floor and presented two official Hogwarts envelopes. Their final marks.
“Regulus Arcturus,” she said in her cold, emotionless voice.
“Yes, mother?” Regulus held his breath. Sirius wanted him to look over so he could tell him, somehow, that everything would be okay, but he never did.
“Outstanding in every subject, top of your class,” she read from the letter. “Very good, Regulus,” she said finally.
Regulus breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Sirius Orion,” she said, her boring gaze now focused on him.
“Top marks in Transfiguration and Charms. Very good,” she said, but he didn’t feel her approval. Her words were hollow. “Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. Exceeds expectations in Divination and Herbology. It is…acceptable. I expect better next year,” she said, folding the letter back up and placing it next to her dessert spoon.
“Yes, of course, Mother,” Sirius breathed. He had done well in the classes that mattered, to his mother, at least. Except there was one class missing. Sirius felt a drop of sweat trail down the back of his neck. He made an O in Potions, he didn’t doubt that, but that wouldn’t be good enough for his mother. He needed to be the best.
“Only third in Potions,” she tsked, shaking her head. “Bested by a half-breed sorry excuse for a Slytherin and a filthy Mudblood,” she uttered the last word like a curse. That information wouldn’t have been in the letter, but she had plenty of spies in the castle who could have told her, maybe even Sluggy himself. So, the letters were just props. She had already known everything she wanted to know.
Sirius didn’t speak; he didn’t trust his voice not to tremble. Head down, don’t talk back, don’t make it worse, he had to remind himself. He had made a promise.
“We raised you better than this Sirius Black. How dare you bring dishonor to this family.”
Head down. “Sorry, Mother. I will do better next year.”
“And don’t think I don’t know all about the company you keep, you ungrateful child,” she continued, “I have eyes and ears everywhere. Half breeds and blood traitors.”
Don’t talk back. “They are my roommates, Mother.” He fought hard to keep his tone even, as matter-of-fact as possible so as not to seem insolent.
His mother’s black eyes bore into his, staring him down. “Even so,” she said, “it would behoove you to distance yourself from such…creatures.”
Creatures? He fought down the bile that rose in his throat. She couldn’t know, could she? Don’t make it worse, he reminded himself. “Yes, Mother.”
“Perhaps I should have a talk with Professor Dumbledor,” she mused, wickedly. “See about getting you moved into a Slytherin dorm. No Black should have to subject themselves to living amongst the unsavory.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mother.”
“It won’t?”
Sirius swallowed back the lump in his throat. He didn’t say anything but shook his head no, almost imperceptibly.
“We’ll see about that. You may be excused.”
Relief flooded his senses. That’s it? He thought in disbelief. It seemed too easy. He stood from the table anyway, abandoning the food that remained on his plate, and made his escape.
…
Sirius spent the next few days waiting for the next shoe to fall. She had been much too easy on him at dinner that first night back. He expected more of a punishment, not only for his grades but for what could have been considered talking back. He had tried to keep his mouth shut, he really had, and he had been doing a good job until she threatened to have him move houses.
The time came on his third night home. Kreature apparated into his room as he sat at his desk penning letters that he would never get to send. “Mistress Black has requested your presence in the parlor,” he said, a hint of sadistic amusement behind his words. Here we go, Sirius thought.
Kreature apparated them both into the parlor, a room with green damask wallpaper and a stone fireplace that was never lit. His mother sat in a high-backed chair, a family heirloom that was decorated with winding snakes carved into the wood of the armrests and legs. A tea tray was set up beside her, untouched.
“Sirius,” she greeted him in a cool voice.
“Hello, Mother. You wanted to see me?” He looked down at his shoes as he spoke. They were clean and recently polished by Kreature. He could see his own reflection, warped and weird, in the shiny black leather. He wracked his brain for reasons why he was summoned to the parlor. Was he finally being punished for his lacking grades or was it something else? Maybe she had heard him talking to James in the mirror.
“It has come to my attention that you have been causing trouble at school,” she scolded. “Flooding the Slytherin dorms and causing an obscene racket in the Great Hall.”
Sirius swallowed. She knew about the pranks. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, brat.” She snapped her manicured fingers, and a letter appeared in her hand. She let it go, and it fluttered down to his feet.
He expected to see the Hogwarts seal, he was sure it had been McGonagall or Slughorn, maybe even one of the other professors who were annoyed by their antics, who had written to her. Instead, he saw the official stationery of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black and a looping D signed at the bottom. Druella. Word must have gotten around.
“It must have been someone else,” he tried again. “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Enough, Sirius Black. I didn’t raise a liar.” She drew her wand from the hidden holster inside her robes. She muttered something that he wasn’t able to hear.
It’s the truth, he tried to say, but he wasn’t able to speak. His throat constricted and his hands instinctually went to his neck as he struggled to breathe. He felt a cord there, under his fingertips, and it only got tighter as he attempted to pull it away. His lungs burned and panic started to set in.
He fell to his knees. Blackness started to encroach upon his vision as he stared at his mother with wide eyes. She couldn’t do this for long, could she? She wouldn’t kill the heir. Walburga stared back; a stoic look on her face.
Sirius started to lose consciousness. He wouldn’t be able to go on much longer.
Stop. Please stop, the words echoed through his mind. You’re killing me.
He gasped as his mother waved her wand, ending the curse. “Stop being dramatic,” she reprimanded. “Get up.”
Sirius rose painfully from the floor as he tried to catch his breath. He coughed, it burned his lungs even more.
“Kreature,” she called.
The house elf was there in less than a second. He must have been listening. “Yes, Mistress Black?”
“Take Sirius to his room,” she commanded. “He is to remain there indefinitely.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
…
Sirius froze when he heard the light rapping on his door. “Sirius, can I come in?” Came his brother’s soft voice from the other side of the door. It was too much like one of his recurring nightmares, but his hunger pangs told him he wasn’t dreaming.
Sirius rushed to the door before Regulus had a chance to knock again. He was being too loud; mother would surely hear him. “Regulus, you shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, looking up and down the hall to make sure no one was around.
“It’s okay,” Regulus said, quietly so he wouldn’t wake the snoozing portrait of Pollux Black, that hung just around the corner. “Mother and Father are away tonight.”
“What if they come back?”
“Kreature has informed me that they are not due back until tomorrow morning,” Regulus said. He sighed when Sirius still did not look convinced. “Kreature has also been instructed to warn me if they return early.”
“You really think that old thing will listen to you over Mother?”
“I know so,” Regulus said. “And he’s not an old thing, he’s quite young for a house elf.”
“Alright, come in then.”
Sirius took a good look at his brother, assessing him. He looked okay, as far as Sirius could tell, but he knew that didn’t mean much. Mother always knew how to hurt without making it obvious to any outside observers. It was then that he realized his brother was holding something— a napkin from the dining table clutched in his hand.
Regulus held it out to him when he noticed him eyeing it. “Here, I saved this for you,” he said.
Sirius opened it to see small bits of roasted meat, potatoes, carrots, green beans, a couple of peas. There were clearly bites taken out of everything and Sirius knew immediately that it was Regulus’ napkin from dinner that night. He could picture it- Regulus dropping scraps from his plate onto his lap, saving it for him.
“You don’t have to eat it, I just thought—”
“No, thank you.” Sirius popped some of the meat into his mouth, savoring it. Even cold, it was better than anything that Kreature brought up to him. It had been a long week of eating nothing but an unidentifiable slop that looked suspiciously like the food Hagrid fed the nifflers. He ate it begrudgingly, but it was never enough to keep him from being hungry.
“You’re welcome,” Regulus said stiffly. He was still standing in the doorway.
“Sit,” Sirius motioned to the chair that went with the writing desk that belonged to some great, great aunt. “Unless you’re busy that is.”
“I’m not busy,” Regulus said.
Sirius sat cross-legged on his bed, picking at the food scraps, while Regulus sat in the chair opposite him. “How are you?”
“Fine. Mother has been leaving me alone. She seems…preoccupied by something.”
Sirius just hummed. He didn’t care to hear anything about that hag.
“I brought something else,” Regulus said suddenly, as if he had just remembered it at the last moment or was unsure if he wanted to share at all. He pulled a silver flask from his trousers pocket. “Thought it would warm you up.”
“You didn’t knick that from Father, did you? He’ll be pissed.”
“No,” Regulus shook his head. “Found it in Barty’s trunk.”
Sirius tsked, but there was a hint of humor behind it. “Robbing your own roommates. That’s diabolical Little Brother.”
“Do you want it or not?” He shook his head like he regretted bringing it up in the first place.
Sirius snatched it out of his hands before he could put it back in his pocket. “No, no, let’s have a drink.”
They passed the contraband flask back and forth until Sirius felt a warmth pool in his stomach and knew he was half past tipsy at that point. He probably shouldn’t have had so much on a mostly empty stomach. It was firewhisky. High quality. Barty must have stolen it from Crouch Senior, Sirius doubted he had the taste himself. He noted that there must have been an expansion charm on it as they had already drunk a lot more than what would normally fit in the pocket-sized flask.
Sirius felt a ping of big brother guilt at seeing his little brother drunk, but it was interesting to see how it made him loosen up. He slouched in his chair, a rare sight considering their parents had tried so hard to beat anything resembling bad posture out of them. There was a pink tinge on his cheeks and a light sheen on his forehead, but other than that, Sirius was proud to see he handled his liquor well.
“How did you sneak this past Mother anyway?” She always searched their trunks when they returned from school. Sirius had tried to hide things before, and she always found them. He didn’t risk it anymore.
“I have my ways.”
“Fine, don’t tell me.”
“It’s Kreature, obviously. He hides things for me in his cupboard.”
“Of fucking course,” Sirius groaned.
Regulus spoke more the more they drank. He told him about his friends, who Sirius admittedly knew nothing about. He talked about Crouch and Rosier. He apparently liked Rosier a lot better, but Crouch was good to keep around for entertainment. They were the only two out of his many roommates who didn’t worship him or try to network their way into the good graces of the Black family.
He talked about Pandora; the girl Sirius had met on the train and who Regulus had spent Easter holidays with. She and her family could be eccentric at times, Regulus admitted to him, but she was his closest friend. They had met in flying lessons back in first year, Regulus explained. Sirius was just pleased to hear that he enjoyed flying just as much as he did.
Regulus swallowed and for a moment Sirius thought he was going to be sick. “Sirius,” he said, a determined look in his eyes. “I want you to know that I am going to try out for the Quidditch team in the fall.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Because we’ll be competing against each other. We’ll be on rival teams.”
“So?” Sirius shrugged. “It’s just a game, Regulus.”
“It’s not just a game,” Regulus argued. “Some people make whole careers out of it.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “You sound like James.” For some reason, Sirius’ words brought a blush to his brother’s neck and cheeks, but Sirius just attributed it to drinking. “Listen, I think it’s cool that you’re going to be on the team. It’s going to be fun to play against you. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you, alright?”
“I don’t even know if I’ll make the team, yet.” Regulus slumped further in his chair.
“Of course, you’ll make the team. You’re a Black, they would be crazy not to choose you,” he said haughtily.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t jinx it,” he said.
“I’m not. Alright, we can talk about something else then.”
“Like what?” His brother asked.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Something pleasant?”
Sirius wracked his brain. It was hard to think about something good when he was at Grimmauld Place. “I really want a cigarette,” he said. It was the only thing he could think of.
“Gross,” Regulus scoffed.
“Okay, okay, what about this?” Sirius lifted his shirt, angling his body to show off the mark that was etched into his skin just above his hip bone.
“Wow,” Regulus breathed, leaning forward to get a closer look. “I thought Sacred 28 wizards didn’t get soul marks. Mother said—”
“Mother lies, Reg,” he reminded him.
“Right.”
“There are other Blacks who have them. Alford, Andromeda,” Sirius listed. “Probably everyone else who has been burned off the tapestry.”
Realization bloomed across Regulus’ face. “Oh. That’s why— oh.”
Sirus nodded. “Why they were disowned.” Regulus was quiet for a while. He reached out his hand, fingers hovering above Sirius’ skin. “You can touch it.”
Regulus’ fingers brushed against his mark, lightly, tickling him a bit. He knew what it would feel like for Regulus, he had touched it so many times that he memorized the feeling of the design embossed into his skin. “I hope I get one,” Regulus said, quietly. Sirius barely heard it.
You will, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to get his brother’s hopes up in case he didn’t get one. He had been hoping for one ever since he realized his mother’s lie, counting down the days until his 15th birthday. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted if he didn’t get one. “I hope you get one, too,” he said instead. “But even if you don’t—”
“I know,” Regulus interrupted.
Regulus looked like he was about to close himself off again, Sirius could sense the walls start to rise. He lifted himself up from the chair, getting ready to head back to his own room. Sirius didn’t want that to happen, he felt like they had just started talking and, if Kreature had been right, they still had time. “Remus Lupin,” he blurted out. “It’s Remus Lupin.” He shouldn’t have said it, they were supposed to be keeping it on the low, and he wasn’t sure how Regulus would take his older brother being into blokes, but he had to say something to stop him from leaving.
“Who?”
“My soul mate,” Sirius answered.
Regulus opened his mouth in disbelief, then closed it again quickly, schooling his expression. His voice was more controlled when he spoke, less carefree and comfortable, but at least they were still talking. “Is that the short one you’re always with?”
Peter. “Merlin, No!” Sirius spat, then felt horrible. He had been trying to make an effort to be nicer to Peter. He wasn’t a bad guy, but there was just something about the two of them that didn’t mesh. Their friendship didn’t feel natural like it did with James, Remus, or Marlene. But James and Remus loved him, so for the sake of the Marauders, he tried to not clash with him too much. “That’s Peter. Remus is the tall one.”
“I know,” Regulus said, with a glint of a smile behind his eyes. Regulus was teasing him but at least he wasn’t making a big deal about his sexuality.
“Oh, you little shit,” Sirius said, throwing the now empty dinner napkin at him. It caught in the air and fell short at Regulus’ feet. They laughed, though quietly as not to disturb any of the portraits. There were a couple of ancestors in Sirius’ room, but they had all turned in for the night. They were so old, they probably couldn’t hear them anyway, but they couldn’t take any chances.
“What’s that sound?” Regulus suddenly stopped, his eyes wide at the unfamiliar sound in the room, like tapping on a window.
“It’s just James,” Sirius said, taking the mirror out from its hiding spot under his pillow. “Alright, Prongs,” he answered, then turned the mirror towards Regulus to show him James’ face in the mirror.
“Padfoot. Regulus,” James greeted both of them. Regulus noticed that his voice was quieter than usual, he didn't know it was even possible for him to be that quiet. It made him feel weird that he must have known about their home life, he never talked about it to anyone, himself, not even Pandora. “Good to see you again.”
“Good to see me again?” Sirius mocked. “We just talked yesterday. Did you forget already?”
“Oh, right,” James said.
“So, what’s new Prongs?”
“Not much. Mum and Dad say hullo. ‘Course McGonagall owled mum about our prank so she has me cleaning out the attic by hand. Wormy might come next—"
Sirius cut him off before he had a chance to finish. “Have you talked to Moony?”
“Yup.”
“And?” Sirius asked impatiently.
“He said his mum’s being an absolute bore. She had a job lined up for him once he got home so he’s been busy, I guess.” James shrugged in the mirror. “It took him ages to respond to my owl. I don’t think he’ll be able to come over any time soon.”
“Oh,” Sirius deflated. He had hoped Remus would be spending some time at the Potter’s over the summer. It usually made him pretty jealous, that they got to hang out when Sirius was stuck at home, but now they had the mirrors and Sirius was hoping he would get to talk to him.
“How are things there?” James’ tone was light, but a grave quality crept in towards the end.
“Not too bad,” Sirius said. “Honestly,” he added when James gave him a disbelieving look. “I’m on punishment but it could have been worse.” He wasn’t going to tell James about the spell his mother had cast on him. He didn’t need to worry his pretty little head about it. Plus, there didn’t seem to be any long-term effects, and after the bruising around his neck cleared up, he would probably forget all about it.
“Alright, that’s good, right?” James said though he sounded a bit unsure.
“Right,” Sirius assured him. He shared a look with Regulus, warning him not to mention anything. He was sure Kreature told him everything that had happened.
James was satisfied enough to drop the topic for the time being and changed the subject. They blabbered on for a few minutes, talking about nothing in particular, but it still reminded Sirius of the outside world that would be waiting for him at the end of summer. James even played a song for him on the other end that he had been singing in his head to soothe himself to sleep at night. He just wanted to hear it once just to make sure he got the last verse right.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Regulus rise and start walking toward the door. He was surprisingly steady on his feet. Sirius lifted his hand to get him to stop. Wait, please don’t leave already.
Regulus looked at him expectantly but didn’t say anything.
Do you want to say hi? Sirius mouthed to Regulus indicating towards James inside of the mirror as he yapped on the other side. Regulus pursed his lips into a tight line and shook his head no.
He looked between his brother and James, unsure what he should do for a second. “Prongs, let’s talk tomorrow, alright?” He said before shoving the mirror back under the pillow. They both heard a muffled ‘goodnight dickhead,’ then a click as James hung up.
“Stay here for a bit, yeah?” Regulus shrugged but didn’t move any closer to the door, so Sirius took it as a win. He patted the bed next to him and Regulus obeyed. He sat on the edge of the bed at first until Sirius told him to get comfortable and the two of them arranged themselves against the headboard.
Sirius could tell his brother’s chatty mood had passed, but he wasn’t completely closed off. Sirius started talking. He talked about simple things at first, classes, pranks, detention, and so on, but the more he talked the more he wanted to confide in his brother. Eventually, he started talking about Remus, he couldn’t help himself.
Sirius knew he sounded like a young schoolgirl with her first crush, but Regulus just listened quietly. He didn’t seem to mind, for which Sirius was grateful. He supposed he had technically just come out to his brother, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like he had known all along.
“I think you two would get along,” Sirius confessed.
It was around 4 in the morning when Kreature apparated into his room. Sirius and Regulus woke abruptly at the sound of the crackle as the house elf appeared at the foot of the bed. They must have fallen asleep at some point.
“Master Regulus,” the house elf croaked. “Master and Mistress Black are to return in 10 minute’s time.”
“Thank you, Kreature,” Regulus said. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then stood, brushing the wrinkles from his clothing. Kreature reached out his little, wrinkled hand to Regulus and they were gone.