Gaspard de la Nuit
Sirius hated very few things more than he hated family reunions. His parents had forced him into a tight black suit and put his usually messy hair into an even tighter bun. He didn’t feel like himself.
The dinner was being held at their house, and while the servants cleaned every inch and prepared extravagant dishes, Sirius and Regulus were in the older brother’s room.
Sirius was still angry at him—of course he was—but maybe today wasn’t the perfect time to start an argument with the only person in this goddamn house that didn’t hate his guts. Even though Regulus had told those stupid Slytherins what Walburga had done.
“So? Are you excited already?” Sirius sighed as he tried to loosen his tie.
“Sure,” Regulus answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sirius?”
“Yeah?”
“Please, don’t do anything stupid today.”
Sirius glanced at his little brother. “But I’m not their pet! Mum can’t make me approve of her stupid politics and—”
“Please.” Regulus stood up and placed his hands on Sirius’ shoulders. “If you can’t do it for your own good, then do it for me. And for your friends.”
“Since when do you care about my friends?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.
Before Regulus could answer, a knock on the door interrupted them, and just a second later, their father’s voice echoed through the house.
“Downstairs, boys! The guests are arriving!”
What followed was a torturous hour of shaking hands, answering questions, and assuring aunts, uncles, cousins, and every other blood purist in the room that he was most definitely not the rebellious son they had heard rumors about.
During dinner, he sat between Narcissa and Bellatrix, while the only Black sister he actually liked—Andromeda—hadn’t even bothered to show up. What a shame…
“It’s an honor for me to welcome you all into our home this evening,” Orion announced as the food arrived on flying plates. “Details will be discussed after dinner, of course.”
Walburga stood up beside him, nodding and raising her glass. The rest of the room followed suit in unison.
“Bon appétit,” they chanted, their voices blending together in eerie harmony. If Sirius didn’t know better, he might have thought the Blacks were a happy family.
Sirius at least managed to sneak himself a glass of wine while he picked at his salad, thinking that maybe—just maybe—the night wouldn’t be as dreadful as he expected.
Then, Walburga called out Regulus name. He immediately stood up and walked over to the piano.
Oh, no.
Sirius stiffened. His stomach twisted as he glanced over at his mother.
Regulus wasn’t just playing any piece—he was playing Gaspard de la Nuit. A particular difficult piece.
Regulus had spent the entire summer complaining that he couldn’t get it right, and now, here he was, performing it in front of all these people? That wasn’t his free will, that’s as their parents work.
Walburga smiled, a rare look of genuine pleasure on her face. She closed her eyes and listened to the melody. Some of the guests continued eating, but many turned their attention to Regulus, nodding approvingly.
The song was long, and Sirius had to admit that Regulus was playing it well—better than he ever had before.
But Sirius couldn’t enjoy it. He could feel his mother’s pride radiating across the room, and it made his skin crawl. He knew that this was what she wanted from them. Obedience. Perfection. Talent displayed like a trophy.
Regulus finished when the main dish was served and a smattering of polite applause followed.
“Well done, Regulus,” Orion said, raising his glass toward his youngest son. “Truly remarkable.”
Walburga nodded, her eyes flicking toward Sirius, as if to say: Why can’t you be more like him?
Sirius clenched his jaw and downed the rest of his wine, before filling his glass again. He liked the the feeling of being drunk, even though he was far away from this state right now. However, he did his best to come as close to it as possible.
As the evening dragged on, the conversation turned to politics. Of course it did.
“The Ministry is growing weaker by the day,” Uncle Cygnus said. “They refuse to acknowledge the real threats to our society.”
“A threat to their society,” someone corrected, and several people chuckled knowingly.
“I heard that Dumbledore is still pushing his ridiculous agenda at Hogwarts,” Bellatrix added, swirling her wine. “Mudbloods getting the same education as us. Imagine.”
Sirius’ grip on his fork tightened. Don’t say anything. Not tonight.
“He’s always been a blood-traitor sympathizer,” Orion muttered. “Surprising, really. Given his family.”
Sirius could feel the heat rising to his face. Don’t. Say. Anything.
“Of course, those who share our ideals are beginning to organize,” another voice added. “The Dark Lord is gaining more influence by the day.”
Bellatrix grinned, her eyes shining with excitement. “He is the future.”
Sirius slammed his fork onto his plate with a sharp clink. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
The conversation halted. A dozen pairs of eyes turned to him.
“Sirius,” Walburga said sharply.
“No, really,” Sirius continued, leaning back in his chair. “We’re all just going to sit here, sipping our expensive wine, acting like we’re better than everyone else, while you all fawn over some lunatic who calls himself the Dark Lord?”
Bellatrix’s lips curled. “Careful, cousin.”
“Oh, forgive me,” Sirius drawled. “I forgot I was in the presence of true believers.”
The air in the room grew heavy. Walburga’s expression darkened.
“You will not disgrace this family tonight,” Orion said, his voice low and dangerous. “Not under my roof.”
“Ah, right. Wouldn’t want to embarrass the Blacks,” Sirius shot back. “Because nothing says pride like worshiping a half-blood dictator—”
He barely saw it coming. A sharp sting exploded across his face as Walburga’s hand struck him from across the table.
The room fell into dead silence. Bellatrix smiled- Regulus looked away.
Sirius sat still for a moment, his cheek burning, his hands clenched into fists under the table. He could feel the weight of every gaze in the room, waiting to see what he would do next.
He exhaled sharply, shoving his chair back as he stood up.
“You’re right, Father,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “I am disgracing this family.”
He grabbed his glass of wine and downed the rest in one go before slamming it onto the floor. Then, without another word, he ran out of the dining room and upstairs.
He could hear voices behind him—his mother’s sharp commands, Bellatrix’s amused laughter—but he didn’t stop. He took the stairs two at a time, ripped open his bedroom door, and collapsed onto his bed.
God, that was stupid. Way more stupid than anything else he did so far.
About an hour later, the door creaked open.
Regulus.
Sirius didn’t look at him. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling.
“That was dumb,” Regulus muttered.
“I know.”
A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Regulus sighed. “I saved you a piece of cake,” he said, setting a plate on Sirius’ desk. But Sirius appetite was long gone.
Sirius snorted, finally turning his head toward his brother. “Traitor.”
Regulus smirked, but there was something sad in his eyes. “You really are leaving, aren’t you?”
Sirius swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”
He had the plan for quite a while. Next year he’d do it. He’d leave this goddamn family.
Regulus nodded, as if he had already known.
Sirius turned his gaze back to the ceiling. He didn’t say it, but they both knew what it meant.
This was the beginning of the end.
“You should leave too”. Sirius finally managed to say. “We wouldn’t have too see any of them again- ever.”
“You know thats impossible.”
“Why?”, Sirius asked bluntly, sitting up straight. Regulus didn’t answer and it was at that moment that Sirius realised what really might be going on in his brothers head.
Maybe he was one of them after all.
“Get out”, Sirius muttered, suddenly anger filling him up.
“But you don’t understand, I-”
“Get out, Regulus!”
And with that, his brother left, leaving him alone with the piece of chocolate cake that kinda reminded him of Remus, the only good things about that evening. He wondered whether Remus liked the Watership down.
His mother came into his room sometime during the night.
That was the first time she used Crucio on her eldest son.