Damage Control

“Hello son”, something tugs at Lyall’s mouth when he speaks, but his voice is too heavy and strong to make it grow into a smile, it’s how he always is when he sees Remus after a while apart. It’s probably because of his mother that is imbedded in all of Remus’ features and serves as another reminder of Lyall’s grief while also bringing memories of the woman he loved with all his heart.

“Hello”, Remus echoes, hollow and numb.

“The drive is out front, I have a meeting today, but I look forward to see you at dinner”, he states, no emotion crossing over his face before bidding his goodbye and leaving, Remus just accepts it.

This is how it is between them. Hollow.

Remus doesn’t hate his father and he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t hate him, but they don’t like each other. Sometimes Remus thinks it would be easier if he could just hate him, if that was the only thing he felt for him, but he can’t. Because he didn’t used to be this way, he used to bis role model and now they are strangers who share memories and blood.

Their wounds are still too open to try and rekindle what they had before she left, everything’s still too raw, or that’s how Remus sees it at least.

He doesn’t recognise the driver, maybe Lyall fired the old one, but Remus didn’t like that one anyways, he always had those big, teary eyes, not smiling or laughing or even talking. He was very uncomfortable to be around.

“Hello”, the driver begins when the cars starts humming and drives down the street, “I’m the new driver, Henry.”

“Hello Henry”, and that’s it. They don’t talk and Remus is grateful, instead he looks out the window.

The ride with girls was fine, they chatted, and he listened only occasionally jumping in to add a comment or ask for context, it was always easy with the girls, they didn’t even ask about Sirius’ and Remus’ spat which made him eternally thankful, he would just like to forget about him for the next few weeks.

Maybe he would be able to visit James and Peter on a few days, of course, because he didn’t ride with them, he doesn’t know what their plans are but it’s fine, maybe they’ll call him and if they don’t, he can just stay in his room.

But what would he do there?

His body jolts when he remembers the question, he forgot to ask his father, he coughs and Henry looks back at him for second before his eyes are back on the road, “Everything okay?”

“Yes, I just wondered is Fenrir here this holiday?”, he tries to keep his voice calm.

“You mean Mr. Greyback?”

“Yes.”

Henry is quiet for a moment, “I’m not supposed to know that I’m just the driver.”

Remus understands the wording immediately, “I won’t tell anyone, I would have found out as soon as I arrive anyway.”

“All right. Yes, the elves have prepared the guest room for at least two weeks”, Remus can’t hide the smile spreading across his face, “but if I find out you told anybody I know that…”

“I won’t”, he cuts in, sending him a wide grin and he sees a soft smile play around Henry’s mouth, Remus likes him already. A smile continues to tug on his face for the rest of the car ride simply because he’ll see Fenrir again.

He has known him for years, his father’s business partner turning into a friend and meeting young Remus, shortly after his mother left, they had formed a connection unlike anything he has ever felt before.

He would trust him with his life.

--

“Is that Remus John Lupin?”, Fenrir’s deep voice calls over the heads of the house elves waiting to greet him, Remus’ face lights up as he watches the broad man walk over to him with sure strong steps.

“Fenrir!”, he calls out, Henry starts the car and drives off, Remus walks towards the man, giving his favourite elf a gentle wave before retraining his attention on the man.

“Wow, you’ve grown”, is the first thing he says when he stops in front of him, “I should probably give you a handshake then.”

“You’re still taller”, he shoots back.

“Not for long if you keep shooting up like this”, he sends him a broad smile and Remus can’t help but notice his very yellow teeth that he always tries to ignore and always fails to.

Remus only laughs.

“Let’s go inside”, Fenrir says, “I want to hear everything about your school year, friends, grades, “he pauses, eyebrows twitching, “your enemies.”

Remus chuckles, “Of course, of course, I’ll tell you everything.”

“That’s my Remus”, he turns around and starts walking toward the entry of the house. Remus follows and finally takes a good look around the estate, it hasn’t changed at all, white gravel crunching underneath his feet as he walks and the gate squeaking as it opens for Henry in the distance.

“How long are you staying?”, he asks as they enter the house, it smells like roses and cigars.

He glances back at him, “The whole two weeks!”

“Really?”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it”, they settle down in the Great Room with high shelves filled with books and couches and tables scattered across the area, it always smells nice in here too. Fenrir lights himself a cigarette and looks at him with those dark eyes that seem to pierce whoever they meet, Remus has learned to feel normal under them over time, “What has been going on? How has 5th Year been treating you?”

“I mean you probably heard most of it from my letters, but it’s been fun”, he starts, trying not to cough when the smoke wrapped its way around his body.

“Yes, but I would like to hear it from you, besides I’m sure you kept some of it out, in case your father tried to read it. But now you can tell me anything”, he says with a small smirk.

So, Remus does, he tells him about the classes and Lily getting prefect, he talks about the pranks they all pulled and the parties whenever Gryffindor won a game, he continues with Halloween and Sirius’ birthday party and Fenrir just listens, nodding to keep him going but not showing any reaction otherwise.

He doesn’t tell him about Sirius and the fight.

“And then Snape got detention instead of us”, he laughs, “It was amazing.”

“Anything else?”, Fenrir asks, Remus shakes his head, “Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything, right? I just want the best for you”, he coaxes.

“Well, there was this fight I had with my mate Sirius”, this time Fenrir’s eyebrows shoot up, excited by the reaction, he continues, “It probably wasn’t that bad, but a few days before the holidays we- he wanted to pull a prank, but I forgot my wand and we got in this argument, then McGonagall caught us, and we got in an even bigger argument and now we haven’t spoken since.”

Fenrir frowns, “Why did you guys fight the second time?”

“He thought that it was my fault that we got caught”, he continues, unable to stop himself, “And when I asked why it was such a big deal, he said that it was simply because his mother was going to be angry, like what? Such a baby, sometimes.”

He nods, “And this is Sirius Black? I thought he was your friend?”

“Yes, I thought so too!”, finally someone is seeing his perspective.

“What do your friends think about it?”

“They try to stay neutral; you know, it isn’t their fight to fight”, he says, and he watches as Fenrir grimaces.

“Oh Remus, a friend who won’t take your side, is not a friend”, he sighs, and Remus feels like he might throw up.

“But they’re Sirius’ friends too”, he tries, not able to see James and Peter as anything less than friends.

“But eventually they all have someone they like the most and when he’s so clearly in the wrong and they still stay neutral…”, he travels off, a new sort of intensity in his eyes, “But me, Remus, I like you the best, I’d choose you, remember that I am always on your side.”

Remus smiles, feeling warm all over, “I know.”

Because he does know, Fenrir is always on his side, he is his protector, the only person that he knows everything about him, the only person he writes letters to regularly. There’s just something about him that makes Remus want to be exactly as him when he grows up, everything he does, he does right.

--

“So, Remus, how was your school year?”, his father’s voice is strong and cold, echoing over to him and through the room, over the empty plates that are waiting to take away, silencing everything else, sometimes Remus thinks that his voice is already dead and that’s why it causes that reaction because it didn’t use to.

It used to be warm, still deep, and strong, but never cold.

“It was good”, he responds and Fenrir winks when their eyes meet.

“I think I may have gotten more notices from the head teacher about some “prank” than I got letters from you”, he states, not with anger or disappointment, it’s just a statement, a sad one, but still just a statement.

“Sorry.”

Lyall nods, “It’s all right as long as you keep your grades up and I don’t have to come in, you may have noticed that I only reacted when I deemed it strictly necessary”, Remus thinks back to the harsh howler he had gotten after Halloween but still manages to nod.

“I am waiting for your OWL results but if those do not meet my standard, I have no choice but to take stronger measures”, he raises his eyebrows, but there’s still no rage behind the words, just empty statements.

“I understand.”

“Very well”, he nods again, they both seem to do that a lot, “Anything else happen throughout the semester?”

Remus exchanges a confused look, with Fenrir but he shakes his head, worried that he told his father about the fight, but, of course, he wouldn’t that.

“Not that I can think of, no”, he says carefully.

“No girlfriend?”, Remus head snaps up just in time to watch a very small smile play over his father’s lips, a smile he hasn’t seen in a while, it reminds him of a time where everyone still told him that he has his smile from his fathers because back then they still knew his father’s smile.

Remus smiles back, before shaking his head, “No”, he finds that he actually wants to tell his father something, after being reminded that his father is still in there buried beneath all his grief, “But my friend Sirius dated someone for like two weeks at the beginning of the semester…”, he starts rambling.

Lyall’s smile grows, and he nods, encouraging him to keep talking, it’s a different nod to the one he gave him before.

“But at the moment they only meet up every once in a while, to…”; he trails off, face growing hot, this is still his father after all.

“Shag”, Lyall supplies, smile even wider now and Remus shuts his eyes, smile mirroring that of his father, it feels so nice, like a part of his body that had been shut off has been turned on again and lights floods through it, giving it back a bit of its former glory.

“Yes”, he chokes out, face glowing.

Lyall chuckles, “No need to be embarrassed about that, son. You can tell that to Sirius as well”, takes a sip of his wine glass and Remus remembers that he can’t do that, that him and Sirius aren’t even talking right now.

“Actually, Sirius and I…”, he would’ve kept talking, basking in the warmth between them, but Fenrir coughs and shakes his head very slightly and for the first time in a while Remus looks at him, even remembers that he’s still here. Remus begins to frown as he notices something dark playing over his features but smooths out his features and turns back to his father who is frowning too.

“Sorry, forgot what I was going to say.”

Soon people come in to carry the dirty plates away, and a phone call takes away this version of his father and it’s just Fenrir and Remus again.

But still, it’s going to be a good holiday. Remus is sure of that.

 ______________________________________________________________________________________________

It has been days and Regulus still hasn’t come home, he hasn’t asked for him and his parents don’t seem surprised by him not coming home which means that only he is unaware of something that everyone seems to know.

On his second day, Sirius snuck into Regulus’ room, hoping to find anything to tell him where he is, Regulus’ bed was stripped of everything, comforter folded at the end of the bed, it looked as if no one has ever lived there before, so empty which could mean two things: one Regulus was allowed to stay behind at school or two he has been murdered and he truly isn’t sure which one is correct.

Because the Blacks don’t let their kids stay at Hogwarts, their dinner parties and image too important. Sirius knows this because he has tried many, many times, and every time he is met with cold unforgiving hands as they met his bruised cheek or harsh knees in his sore stomach. Every time he asks, they show him why he should never ask and still he continues asking, hoping that one day they will give up, but they never do and every year he has to come back here and wait for the fourteen days to be over.

Normally he at least has Regulus by his side, Regulus who rolls his eyes at the dinner when nobody’s watching and who shamelessly beats him at chess when Sirius sneaks into his room at night, quietly asking for some company, it’s not a lot, but it’s always something, something that reminds him of the time his brother was his best friend, his only real friend, the only person he would walk through fire for.

Now the only thing he can look forward to is seeing his cousin Andromeda for one evening.

Why wasn’t he just allowed to stay at Hogwarts?

He asked this year again, wrote his parents a letter, pleading for them to let him stay, saying he has a lot to study for, doesn’t want to disturb the family dinners, won’t require attention but all he got as a response was that stupid howler.

A stupid howler telling him very calmly that he is expected home, that they make the best decisions for him, and he shouldn’t question them and that they are very disappointed. It’s the same thing every year, he never tells his friends about the letters, never tells them he wants to stay at home, he just writes his letter, waits for the responds, listens as his hopes get crushed and goes home to receive his punishment for even dreaming of something like that.

His parents ignore him the first few days, not deeming worthy of a single word, he would never say it but that form of punishment is his least favourite, simply because he knows that it is only temporary, eventually he’ll say something wrong again and they’ll be over him like vultures, it leads him to get careful like he never is otherwise, wishing to keep this false sense of peace for a moment longer, but it never stays.

At least when he can’t walk properly, he knows that the worst is over, that there’s nothing he can do to keep this from happening, that he can be himself for at least a day, because he knows that for a few hours nobody will bother him.

Neither of them even mention the letter, instead they pretend that both of their sons have left the house.

But the fear of tipping the of is too big and it was only a matter of time until that final drop landed.

They are eating dinner, Sirius on the far side of the long, dark table, his parents on the other, not sending them a single glance all throughout the meal.

Their expressions are calm, cold, and collected, no light showing through the curtains and normally he would just let them be, but it has been five days since has arrived and Regulus is still missing, the worry is eating him alive at this point and he can’t even help it, he just blurts out.

“Where is Regulus?”, his voice is shaky, rough from not being used in days, it still silences the scraping of forks on the plates, sharp eyes focusing on him, but he doesn’t back down, worry lighting his defiance.

“What?”, his mother’s voice is cold and sharp, digging into his stomach. He keeps his mouth shut, not daring to repeat the question.

His father coughs before speaking with a dark voice, “Why are you speaking, Sirius?”

Sirius doesn’t remember the last time they addressed him with his name. It sends shivers down his back, and he wants to rip that name out of their mouth, force them to never say it again, scream at them that it is his, but the other part wants to beg them to say it again, wants to make them promise to never forget it because it was their name to give, their name that they gave to him.

It’s embarrassing how easily they force him back in the corner, the simple mention of his name enough to want their attention on him, to see him as their own.

He has enough dignity to not apologise, has been around James for long enough to know that that is not something he has to apologise for.

“He asked you a question”, Walburga cuts in, eyes narrowing dangerously, “When we ask you answer. You know that.”

He swallows, “I asked a question too.”

“And who allowed you to do that?”, continues Walburga, a dead, tight smile pulling across her lips.

“It was just a question”, he says, trying his best to keep his voice strong.

“And who allowed you to ask a question? Who allowed you to speak?”, she continues, his father nods, “We allowed you to eat by asking you to dinner, but do not take that for granted.”

Her eyes narrow again, Sirius watches her swallow one her time before she grabs the knife next to her in a single motion and throws it at her son in a matter of seconds without a moment of hesitation, he doesn’t have the time to react before it hits against his arm, he inhales sharply, the knife clutters to the floor, leaving behind a thin red line.

Sirius looks back up at his parents who have continued their conversation, if he couldn’t feel small drops of blood running down his arm and the stinging pain of air hitting against the cut, he would have thought that it was simply an imagination.

He should stay quiet, should wait until they left before even looking at his wound again and never bring it up again, but it’s about Regulus, he can’t ignore it, he has to know. It’s his baby brother.

“Is Regulus all right?”, he asks again, his voice firmer than before now that it has been used.

“Be quiet”, his mother snaps, raising her small hand sharply, maybe it’s supposed to be a warning, but Sirius ignores it.

“I will if I know he’s okay.”

“You will be quiet because your mother asked you to”, his father grits out, eyes pinning him down.

He takes a sharp breath, “I need to know”, he pauses, knowing how close he is to begging, “Where is he?”

“If he wanted you to know, he could have told you himself, but he didn’t”, Walburga says, anger leaking through the words, and Sirius’ mouth snaps shut because that’s it, isn’t it.

It’s not that his parents won’t tell him why Regulus isn’t here or that Regulus isn’t here, it’s that he didn’t tell him. Shouldn’t he know something like that about his baby brother? Shouldn’t his brother want to tell him that?

“Your presence is no longer required”, his mother’s cold voice breaks through his thoughts and he stops fighting, just gets up and leaves the room, walking calmly towards his room, past the portraits and their nasty little comments.

He shuts the door behind himself and throws himself into his bed, letting the tears flow for the first since he arrived here, finally breaking and letting his thoughts wander to his friends and wonder what they are doing right now, if they are having fun, he even lets his mind think about Remus, wondering if he’s still mad, if he can forgive him for what he said, for letting his stupid pride take over.

He isn’t sure how long he stays right there, wishing to be anywhere else instead, but sometime along somebody knocks on his door, it’s a sharp knock.

Sirius sits up very suddenly, wiping over his time before the door barges open and his father steps inside, raging eyes regarding him for a moment before lighting up further when he notices that he must have been crying.

“Get up!”, his voice is gruff, Sirius does as he’s told, trying to stay away from his father, but he steps closer.

Sirius doesn’t scream, doesn’t sob, doesn’t fight back, he accepts it, feels his tears roll and body bruise while for the first time he is grateful that his brother isn’t here, that he is spared from listening to the dump thuds and angry shouts.

Hours later after his father has left and Sirius is still lying on the floor, too tired to move and he has thought about everything that he can think about, he thinks about Remus again and this time he vows to make things right between them again, but even after that he still keeps lying there until he realises what he’s waiting for.

Regulus.

Regulus.

Regulus.

He’s waiting for his brother to pick the lock, slip inside and gently wipe his wounds and bruises while forcing him to drink something and make sarcastic remarks as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, because for the it is. But he’s not going to come, he isn’t here.

Sirius is all alone. Maybe he always has been.

There’s no one out there who truly knows him, nobody knows everything about his family and knows Sirius and no one knows Sirius and knows about his parents. He is the only person who knows.

The only person he can be open with. He’s all alone.

And because he can be open with himself, he sobs into his arm, feeling his tears sting on the small cut while crying about the face that there’s nobody who knows and cares that this is happening and that his brother is not there and that he needs his little brother to be with him and that his friends think that he is travelling and that he’s not even sure that he’s still allowed to breathe in this house and that his parents used his name.

He cries until morning and longer, he’s well aware that he’s not getting out of his room today, that the door is locked and will be for at least this day. He cries but he also for the first time since he arrived here finds a moment of piece because his parents won’t touch him for this day, and their avoidance isn’t punishment, they just see their duties as fulfilled.

Eventually Sirius does drag himself into his bathroom and cleans his body before showering and crawling back into his bed.

An elf opens the door one night, bringing him food and telling him that he is not requested at dinner tonight, but he will join the family for the Christmas dinner the following evening, Sirius accepts and wonders how much time has passed since that dinner, because he truly has no idea.

After his body finally has some food in it, he writes his first letter.

Dear James,
Sorry, that I haven’t written before there’s just been so much going on and I couldn’t find the time. I hope you had great holidays so far and your mother’s cooking is as dreamy as I remember it from the stuff you always bring with you (yes, this is a hint that you should do that again).
The family dinner is tomorrow, and I already dread it, so wish me luck! I will have to spend an ENTIRE evening with Bellatrix and her disgusting husband.
Also, kind of weird, but my brother isn’t here, I don’t know maybe Salazar swallowed him or something which means I only have Andie at the dinner.
How are your holidays so far?
I miss you,
Sirius

He doesn’t find the energy to write Peter one and slips into his bed, hiding the letter underneath his pillow in case his mother barges in.

--

Around him people are chattering, low and quiet, everyone too involved in their own conversation to look around and watch the others, all, expect Sirius who has never felt so alone in a crowded room filled with people who share his genes. Nobody has spared him a second glance since they’ve all sat down around the table and the elves started to bring the food in.

Sirius is fine with that, there’s no one here that he would like to.

Regulus isn’t here, but he had known about that, what he wasn’t prepared for however was that Andromeda wasn’t here. She didn’t show up and no one had even as much as breathed her name or mentioned that there are three Black sisters, she seem like another thing he just made up.

He doesn’t dare to ask about it, body still sore from that night, he sits there quietly, eating his food, listening on the conversations taking place around him. Currently, he’s eavesdropping on Lucius beaming about Narcissa accepting his marriage proposal and their wedding, Sirius has to bite his tongue to prevent a laugh from escaping as he listens to the man talk about it like it’s the event of the century while his fiancée sits next to him with a tight smile.

Sirius is almost ready to make a comment when a name refocuses his attention.

“Regulus?”, Bellatrix repeats, a bit shocked as if she didn’t even notice he wasn’t here, Sirius continues glancing over to Lucius pretending he’s still listening to him, but all amusement has drained from his face, “Weird, why wouldn’t he be here? Sirius is here”, she spits his name out like dirt, Sirius doesn’t even flinch.

“Walburga”, she says in her sweetest voice, “Where is Regulus tonight?”

He holds his breath, waiting for his mother’s harsh voice to speak.

“He got invited to a special Slughorn meeting that takes place over the holidays”, she states, Sirius thinks he might even hear a smile in her voice.

“Oh really, how nice”, Bellatrix answers, before speaking quieter and back to her normal voice, “See, that little swot just found more work”, she scoffs and Sirius has to advert his attention otherwise he might have spoken up, that’s his brother she’s making fun of, his brother who is smart and diligent and already at his soft 14 better than she ever will be. But the relief at finally knowing that his brother is okay floods through him.

He is fine. He’ll stay at school for the rest of the holidays.

Oh no.

A realization creeps over him, one that makes his body run cold, he’ll miss Regulus’ birthday. He has never missed one before. The one good thing about Regulus having his birthday while both of them have to be home is that they always celebrate it together.

Or, well, Sirius sneaks into Regulus room and sings him a song before his parents are even awake and then after the birthday dinner is over Sirius does the same, he always has just to ensure that Regulus won’t wake or fall asleep thinking of his parents on his birthday.

And this year they will break that tradition. For the first time ever, he’ll break his promise he made to Regulus, telling him that he will never miss one of his birthdays.

It feels like he’s falling, falling deeper and deeper into a black void.

“Sirius!”, a voice rips him out his thoughts, he blinks, his vision going from blurry to sharp and he focuses on the voice calling his name over and over again.

“Bellatrix”, he says coldly, but she only grins at him.

“So, how’s Gryffindor treating you?”, she asks, still that cruel smile playing over her face.

“Better than Slytherin ever treated you”, he shoots back.

“Oh really, so none of your little blood traitor friends have told you that you don’t belong there?”, she raises her eyebrows and Sirius’ mouth snaps shut, angry eyes glaring.

“Now, now, don’t look at me like that, I actually agree with your little friends “, she snorts, “well, for some part, I agree with the fact that you don’t belong there, not the blood traitor thing”, she sighs, rubbing over her forehead as if she has just run a marathon and is exhausted.

Sirius is hooked in the worst possible way, he is utterly speechless and mad, speechless by how easy she had known what Remus had said, how easy she talked about his friends as if they were nothing but filth, how she made so many assumptions about him without ever listening and she was right to some extent, she just made him very, very angry and he could tell that she revelled in that which made him even angrier.

“Now come on, Sirius, stop that quiet fuming. You can scream at me if you want, though I think they wouldn’t like that”, she points to his parents sitting at one end of the table. Sirius slowly shakes his head, the first reaction he has actively given her, she only smiles.

“Don’t you want to talk to your favourite cousin?”, she asks, pouting.

He really tried to keep his mouth shut, but this time he just can’t help himself, “Andie is my favourite cousin”, he blurts out and he watches her face grow sour before it shuts down completely.

She turns to him one last time, all humour drained from her face, voice cold and seething, “That woman is not your cousin nor my sister, do not mention her ever again or you will be very sorry.”

Normally, Sirius would have jumped at the opportunity to keep digging at this spot that is very obviously sore but the way she said it, is confusing. Almost as if Andie has been thrown out of the family, in the moment he takes to think about that, Bellatrix turns away again, her toy having lost all its shine through the simple mention of her sister. But Andie can’t be gone, she wouldn’t have just left him here without telling him, she wouldn’t have done that.

Right?

Oh, no. What if she did?

His breathing becomes shallow, the talking people around him going in and out of focus while they turn around him again and again, his ears clog up, blood rushing into them and through his body, he can’t hold still, his body begging him to move, run, scream, cry, anything, but he can’t .

His hand lands on his thigh, pinching the skin underneath his pants, searching for some sort of release, but it never comes, instead the pain just rides him higher and faster into this spiral.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

He tells himself over and over again, but nothing happens and then finally his mind jumps to Remus and calms down.

He imagines him sitting in the library perched over a book, absentmindedly humming some tune while the sun lights up his soft hair and his lips are raw from him biting on it in concentration like he always does.

Sirius can almost feel him, accidentality bumping into him and sending him a sorry smile before continuing on his way and somehow, he makes him calm down, he has no idea how, but Remus just does that.

He takes another big breath, trying out his lungs as if for the first time and looks around, worried that anyone noticed but they are all still caught up in their conversations, tight smiles, and fake laughter.

“Apparently, he is gathering people as we speak”, Bellatrix is saying next to him and Sirius tunes in again, “Has he sent out for you?”

He doesn’t dare to look who she’s talking to. He just listens, staring down onto the dark table and his filled plate, wondering who the hell ‘he’ is.

“It shouldn’t be long”, she continues, “You’re pure.”

There’s a mumble that Sirius can’t make out, he leans to the right, trying to catch the question that is being asked.

“Me? Well, I have gotten a letter, but nothing too serious yet, I do hope that will change soon.”

There’s a pause in the exchange, then she continues once again, “But it appears we have a listener.”

Sirius feels his blood run cold.

“Sirius? Why don’t you just join the conversation if you’re so interested in it?”, her voice is cold and high-pitched, a delicate giggle passing through her lips and Sirius should just ignore her, pretend he didn’t hear and let it be, but he can’t.

He looks over to them and smiles, “Of course.”

Bellatrix looks a bit taken a back but catches her expression again, “Have you heard of the Dark Lord?”

He shakes his head, forcing to keep the eye contact with his cousin and her dark eyes.

“He will be very important and if you are smart, you’ll choose the right side”, she blinks, waiting for a response but Sirius keeps his mouth shut, hoping that it will get her to keep talking.

She falls for it, “The Dark Lord will finally give power to the ones that deserve it the most, Sirius. Do you understand?”, her eyebrows are raised.

He nods, still not responding.

But this time she stops talking and her eyes narrow, eyebrows somehow still raised a bit. He coughs, trying out his voice before speaking again, “Power?”

“Power”, is all she has to say about that, and she turns away again.

The rest of the meal passes without anyone trying to talk to him, he just sits there and watches his parents interact with their family as if any of them actually like each other and he misses Regulus and he misses Andromeda. They would talk to him or at least sent him some understanding looks, but now he’s all alone in this filled room.

After every family dinner, the men go outside to smoke cigars while the women stay back and drink. Sirius tries to stay behind and just rest with the women, but his father sends him a very pointed look and he follows the group of men outside.

He isn’t offered anything, so he stays at the edge of the group as far away from his father as possible. Lucius is talking to Bellatrix’s husband; Sirius can’t remember his name and doesn’t really want to.

“Oh, you know, we are going to move into an estate up North, London just isn’t the right fit.”

The husband’s voice is deep and croaky when he responds, “But what about…”, he pauses for a second glancing around, “the Dark Lord, doesn’t he want you near?”

There that name is again, Sirius inches a step closer, listening closely.

“Well, I would expect that he can apparat or let me come to him if I’m needed, he has informed me about plans to set up floo powder connection that would also work I suppose”, it comes out clipped as if Lucius hates that question even being asked.

“Of course,”, the other responds quickly.

“Do you know who else has been recruited?”

“The Blacks have been open to me about being approached and flattered, but wouldn’t go further than that, Mulciber is already in…”

He stops, the Blacks , that’s him, he knows that his family is the one they refer to as that not Alphard or Bellatrix or Narcissa, him, Regulus, and his parents. It is something that he has just gotten used to because it’s always been that way, they are the Blacks, and the others are extensions, powerful, pure ones, but still extensions. Maybe it’s because his parents were cousins, and they are the purest or they fought for it or because Andromeda is the oldest or just because it is that way. He has no idea. Not that he really cares.

His parents have been asked to join the “Dark Lord” that can’t be good.

“The Blacks? Even though their son is in Gryffindor?”, Lucius spits and Sirius is pretty sure that it’s spit directly in his direction. The other man doesn’t respond.

“Well, I suppose they could just force him, he doesn’t seem that hard to break”, he continues nonchalantly, he can even detect a hint of smile in his voice and Sirius is well aware what Lucius is trying to do, he wants to coax him into an argument that Sirius will never be able to win, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“What do you mean?”, the other voice asks.

“Oh, come on, you are just trying to get me to talk”, Lucius laughs before sighing and lowering his voice until Sirius can only catch words, “Blacks… methods… funny… pure…”

His eyes fall closed, and he takes a small breath, steadying his mind on a normal course until he can think without his surroundings blurring together. How he hates these dinners.

“But if everything with Sirius fails, they still have the spare”, Lucius grins louder this time, “What’s his name again?”

Sirius can’t help himself from whispering, “Regulus”, into the air, knowing that it will reach no one’s ears.

“Regulus”, the man supplies.

“Ah, yes, I hear he is much easier to form ” Sirius feels his eyebrows draw together, “Who knows? Maybe he will join the Dark Lord before any of us.”

Sirius turns around.

That is his little brother they are talking about.

They can talk about Sirius all they want, can call him a traitor and coward and ungrateful or spoiled but not Regulus, never Regulus.

His brother.

His Reggie.

Regulus.

And Regulus does not bend for anyone, he is not the easier option and while he may not snap like Sirius always does, he will slip away.

He’s breathing far heavier than he should when he takes a step towards them, ignoring the sparkle in Lucius’ eyes.

“Stop talking about him”, he grits out.

Lucius looks delighted when he opens his mouth again, eyebrows raised, ugly smile pulling around his lips, “About who?”, he feigns innocence, “Oh, Regulus?”

Sirius glare must be answer enough, “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were listening”, he pauses, winking at him, “Do you want me to lie? Say that your brother is indeed very strong and not your replacement for when you finally screw up?”

He glances at the person standing next to Lucius, the man is at least a head shorter than him, suddenly very interest in the bottom of his glass, Sirius hasn’t seen him before, can’t be very important then, he looks back.

“I’m sorry, Sirius, but if you do not speak, I can’t make it easier for you.”

“I. Don’t. Need. Easier.”

“Oh? So, you accept that Regulus is a weak little nobody until the day that you screw up?”, his eyebrows are raised again, and his tiny eyes pierce him down, reading him through and through.

He should be reasonable, Lucius can do nothing, he is only speaking, edging him on because he is bored and any other time he would’ve given up, walked away, and pretended that it felt good but it’s his brother who isn’t even here and won’t ever know about this, but it’s his brother.

“Regulus is more than you ever will be.”

“Does your father think so?”, his blood freezes, “In fact why don’t we ask him?”

Technically, Sirius shouldn’t worry, his father cares about reputation, he won’t say anything bad, but Sirius knows he won’t say anything good either and if he gets involved Sirius will carry the blame.

But it’s his brother. If he backs down now, Lucius will have won.

And it’s his little brother.

The brother he has protected for the fourteen years he has known him, and he won’t stop now.

“Orion?”, Lucius calls over the heads of the other people, somewhere he grunts in response, “Sirius has a question to ask you.”

“Sirius?”, his father’s voice echoes through his ears right down to his bones, saying his name again, the second time in at least a year, he can’t help a very soft smile on his lips at hearing it again, because even though it’s spoken with hatred and disgust, no one has ever managed to say it the same way his parents say it. He despises it.

Seconds later, he’s standing in front of him, still glowering over him, mouth in a tight line, eyes glistening with a question.

Why are you speaking?

“Because of my brother”, he blurts out before he can help him.

Orion’s eyes narrow slightly before turning to Lucius, “You will have to excuse him, I suspect that he been secretly drinking a bit”, he laughs, deep and so very fake. Lucius only nods, sending Sirius a small smirk before turning away.

“Sirius”, his father’s voice is dangerous, cutting deep into his skin like a well sharpened knife, “Go into your rooms, I do not want to see you, I don’t think anyone wants to.”

Sirius does not, “Or what?”, Orion blinks, not prepared for the reaction or any reaction at all, “I want to know who the Dark Lord is.”

He doesn’t even know what he’s doing before he does it, he gives up control over his own body, letting someone else pull the strings, asking questions he would have never thought about asking.

“Sirius”, is the only answer he gets but he isn’t done apparently, and he has no idea if he’s simply doing it to hear his name again, knowing that it will have consequences, or if he actually wants to know anything.

Maybe it’s because his name is the only thing his parents ever gifted to him or it’s because they named him after the brightest star and must have been thinking of him as someone who could fulfil that at first, but his name is something that only they can get right.

It was their gift to give, and they gave it to him and that would mean that they did love him once, right?

Not that it matters, because he hates them, and they hate him and he…

But of course, it is fucking matters, it always does.

“And I want to know where Andromeda is and…”

He can’t get a single more word out of his mouth before Orion slaps him clean around the face, he gasps, closing his eyes, keeping his eyes clear of the tears pricking at them, his face grows hot, pulsating where his hand connected.

Orion just starts to speak again, but Sirius leaves before any word can be spoken. He doesn’t allow any tears to fall before his head hits his pillow and the door has fallen shut.

He wants to go home.

--

He wakes to Orion storming up the stairs, he sits up immediately, listening to the way his father balances for a second on every third step as he always does ever since the accident, he has maybe three seconds before he will arrive at his room.

The door almost breaks off the hinges, his father bursting into his rooms already fuming, he stalks over to him, slapping him across the cheek with so much force he falls to the side a little, his arm stabilising him at the last second.

“The way you behaved yesterday, was childish and immature, are you aware of that?”

Another slap.

“Are you aware of that?!”

Another one.

“Answer me!”

The funny thing is, he never actually lets enough of a pause to answer, and Sirius would laugh about that if he wasn’t fighting back tears.

Another one.

“Behave!”

This time, his stomach receives the fifth punch just as it always does.

His father always uses his body for it, his feet and elbows and hands and knees, everything that makes Sirius groan and unable to answer, he never uses magic though. His mother does. She uses every spell she can come up with or sometimes even throws things, as if she doesn’t dare to touch him, Sirius thinks it’s because she doesn’t want to feel him, doesn’t want to know he actually exists.

They complete each other that way, Orion always using physical violence while Walburga sticks to tormenting from far away.

Regulus asked once, he asked why Orion never uses magic, “He is very capable, is he not?”, he had asked while cleaning Sirius’ wounds in the dark of the night.

“I think he doesn’t think me worthy of his magic”, he had whispered and normally he would have never said that, but he was tired and hurt and it had slipped out before he could help it.

It’s not as if it wasn’t true, Sirius knows it’s true. He also knows that Orion likes to feel superior and simply using magic on someone that cannot, would not be a fair fight. Because that’s the thing, Orion somehow believes that it’s a fair fight between them.

“Obey!”, his father is screaming, Sirius has lost count of the punches and screams and tears, just like he always does.

Then it all stops, his father pulls back, and Sirius is lying on the floor, shallow breathing and phantom pain still hitting him all over his body while his already existing wounds ache.

“Orion”, that’s his mother’s voice, ringing in his ears like an alarm clock at three in the morning, maybe his ears have even started bleeding, “I’ve gotten a call, let me.”

A door shuts and steps grow louder, before stopping right next to him.

“I’ve been informed that you not only tried to pull another prank but also failed at such simple task”, his mother says in that horribly nasal voice, “I think I need to remind you who you are.”

He opens his eyes a tiny crack, watching as his mother pulls out her wand and starts whispering, then there’s only pain left to feel and notice.

Sirius wakes in the middle of the night again, his body aching. But the only thing moving are his tears rolling down his cheeks. Sometime later he falls back into the restless sleep.

The words now carved into his arm are something he won’t discover for hours, but as soon as his eyes scan over the letters, tears flood his mind until he passes out again.

Toujours Pur. is written in beautiful cursive big on his right underarm.