Return of the Mother
The sterile scent of the hospital wing did little to mask the tension in the air. Sirius sat stiffly in the chair beside Regulus’ bed, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw locked tight. It had been nearly an hour since Regulus had woken up, and in that time, neither of them had spoken much beyond Sirius’ sharp "How are you feeling?" and Regulus’ quiet "Fine."
But now, the silence was stretching too thin. Regulus shifted slightly, wincing as he adjusted himself on the bed. His pale fingers clenched the blanket, his breathing uneven. Sirius noticed, but he didn’t move to help. He didn’t know how to help.
“Sirius,” Regulus said at last, his voice hoarse. “Why are you here?”
Sirius exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Because I—” He stopped himself, rubbing a hand over his face before settling on, “Because you could’ve died.”
Regulus’ lips pressed together, his eyes searching Sirius’ face desperately. “Well yeah, because you shoved me against the stand.”
Sirius let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “It was an accident- I didn’t mean for that to happen.” His voice was tight, strained. Sirius thought back to his conversation with Remus. When he could apologise to him, then he probably could make his brother forgive him too. “I was angry with you and lost control.”
Regulus swallowed hard. “I lost control too. I didn’t mean what I said ”
Right, Sirius had almost forgotten why he had been so angry.
They had fought, he remembered that, before the game. Regulus had said something about how it was Sirius fault. Everything, not only that their mother tortured him, but also Regukus fucked up situation. It was all Sirius fault.
He said he didn’t mean it, but it probably was true either way.
“I know.” Sirisu said.
“No matter what happens, we’ll always be brothers, right?”, Regulus asked, not meeting Sirius gaze.
“Of course, Reg”, Sirius whispered, a weak smile on his face. “And cousins.”
Regulus chuckled. “Right, brothers, and cousins. And what not…fuck I hate this family so much. I wish I could just leave like you’re planning to.”
“Well, you can.”
Regulus let out a dry laugh. “Where would I go? To Evan? To Barty? Their family’s are dark wizards as well.”
“If I’d ask James, maybe he’d take you in. The potters are kind people.”
“Kind people who hate me.”
“Maybe, but they love me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself so much”, Regulus said, smiling sadly.
Their laughter stopped when the door to the hospital wing burst open.
“Sirius Orion Black.”
The voice was like ice, sharp and commanding, and it sent a chill down Sirius’ spine. Their mother swept into the room, regal and terrifying in her dark emerald robes, her expression carved from stone. Their father followed, quieter but no less imposing, his gaze sweeping over Regulus before landing on Sirius with barely concealed disdain.
Regulus flinched, his entire body tensing. Sirius’ stomach twisted. He could see the way his brother shrank under their mother’s gaze, how quickly the desperation in his eyes was replaced by something else—fear.
“Get away from him,” Walburga hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously as she stopped at the foot of the bed. “This was your fault, wasn’t it?”
“No mum, it was an accident”, Regulus argued.
Sirius forced himself to stay seated, to meet her glare with one of his own.
“However, leave. You have no place here, Sirius”, Walburga commanded.
“Funny, considering I’m the one who waited till he wakes up.” His voice was laced with guilt, but he masked it with defiance. “What are you even here for? See if your golden son’s still useful, huh?”
His father’s eyes darkened. “Watch your tone.”
Sirius ignored him, turning his attention back to Regulus. “Tell them,” he urged, his voice lower now, meant only for his brother. “Tell them what you just told me.”
Regulus’ throat worked, but he didn’t speak. He looked at Sirius for a long, painful moment, then at their mother, and Sirius could see it—the war inside him. The desperate, fragile hope that had been there just moments ago was already fading, being crushed beneath the weight of their parents’ presence.
“Regulus,” Sirius pressed, softer now. “Please.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Regulus murmured, his voice flat, hollow.
Sirius felt something inside him snap. “Don’t do this,” he whispered fiercely. “Don’t let them win.”
Walburga’s lips curled into something resembling a smile, but it was cruel. “You always were a bad influence, Sirius.” She turned her attention to Regulus, reaching out to brush his hair back in a mockery of affection. “Don’t listen to your disgrace of a brother. You know where your loyalties lie.”
Sirius’ hands clenched into fists. “He almost died,” he spat. “And all you care about is loyalty?”
“Our family is built on loyalty,” their father said coolly. “Something you clearly never understood.”
Sirius laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Right. Because torturing your eldest son is just another lesson about loyalty, isn’t it?”
Regulus inhaled sharply, his fingers twitching where they rested on the blanket. But he still said nothing.
“You’ll get another one of these lessons when you're home, Sirius.” Their mother then turned her attention back to Regulus, her expression filled with something similar to pride. “You should leave.”
Sirius looked at Regulus one last time, hoping—praying—that he would say something. That he would fight, even just a little. But Regulus’ eyes were empty now, his face carefully blank. He had already retreated back into the shell their family had built around him.
Sirius’ heart ached in a way he hadn’t expected. He stood abruptly, shoving the chair back with a loud scrape. “Fine,” he said coldly. “I’m done trying.”
He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, but just as he reached it, he heard it—so quiet, so fragile he almost thought he imagined it.
“Sirius…”
He stopped. For a single, agonizing second, he considered turning back. But then his mother’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
“Regulus has chosen his side a long time ago.”
Sirius swallowed hard and forced himself to keep walking. He didn’t look back, not once more.