Grimmauld Place
Grimmauld Place was quiet at night.
That was one of the few things Sirius liked about nighttime, the quiet. With all of the orders and forced obedience, it was sometimes difficult to find time to relax at home. With three roommates back at Hogwarts, the only peace he got was in the late hours of the dark, where he would sit against his bedroom window. The view of the sky was not nearly as impressive as it was at school, but it was better than nothing.
Oftentimes, Regulus would join him. He would bring those cigarettes he nicked from the muggle village by their house, and the two brothers would smoke in comfortable silence. In times like these, moments were not to be wasted. Soon enough, Sirius would be fighting a war, and Regulus would join him not long after. So, on those nights, the brothers traded unspoken words through their cigarettes, blowing puffs of smoke as they gazed up at the stars.
Tonight was one of those nights.
“You look dreadful,” Regulus remarks as he takes a seat on the cold marble floor.
“What a bloody nice way to start a conversation, Reggie. I just love hearing what you have to say,” Sirius grumbles.
“No need to go psycho on me, I’m just worried about you,” the curly-haired boy says, gray eyes genuine with concern.
Sirius scoffs, but there is not any malice behind it. He just thinks that if his baby brother is worried about him, then it must seem pretty bad. It is, but for Regulus to notice is a whole other level of bad.
Merlin, when did his life get this shitty?
“You shouldn’t worry, Reg,” he lies, “I’m fine.”
If Regulus doubts this, he does not show it. He no longer presses the issue, instead pulling out his cigarettes. The box is worn and almost empty. With a flick of his wand, he lights one, letting himself breathe out a puff of smoke.
He passes another to Sirius. Sirius mutters a quick muffliato to ensure their parents will not hear. Wordlessly, the brothers smoke. The house is quiet, but just each other’s presence was comfort for the horrors they’d have to face soon.
After a couple of hours, Regulus gets up to leave, and as his slim figure fades down the hallway, Sirius feels a burning sensation on his left forearm.
He lifts his sleeve, staring down at the skull and snake warily. He could not afford to be this childish, not when he had the Dark Lord to impress. Sirius laughs bitterly.
The scar from the tattoo was fresh, and Sirius wanted to tear his skin off from the pain. It was unbearable. Bellatrix had only laughed at Sirius and said he needed to be stronger if he was to serve the Dark Lord, but Lucius had assured him the pain would soon go away.
It hadn’t.
Sirius Black. Evan Rosier. Adrian Mulciber. All of these boys had been marked by the Dark Lord before they even finished school. Regulus was next, no doubt. After him was Snape, or Wilkes, or Avery. Soon enough, the entirety of Slytherin upperclassmen would join Voldemort’s ranks.
Sirius was proud to serve Lord Voldemort, but he was not proud that even he, now a full-fledged death eater, could not withstand his mother’s cruciatus.
Sirius did not even know what he did to deserve such a curse tonight. He was a perfect fully well-behaved pureblood son and heir to the house of Black, even when his tattoo was burned into his skin by the Dark Lord personally.
But, when something pisses Walburga Black off, she is pissed off. When the needle first pierced his skin, Sirius instinctively winced, her cloudy gray eyes seemed to be brewing up a storm.
An hour later, he was being tortured on the dining room floor, Regulus watching in horror and concern from the doorway as their mother cast the curse.
It was not like Orion did much to help either. His love for his son was outmatched by his strict code of discipline which he believed was best for producing a functional Black heir.
Fuck being heir. Sirius is the youngest Death Eater in history. He does not have time to worry about the Noble House of Black when there are much bigger priorities at stake. It would be lucky if he even made it out of the war alive, much less vote in Wizengamot as Lord Black. He needed to prioritize. Running the family empire could be dealt with afterward. If he was still around.
Oftentimes, Sirius thinks Regulus would be a much better heir. Reg was never really one for combat. While Sirius excelled in defense, Regulus was always strong in potions. Perhaps he could be a better healer than a Death Eater, and Salazar knows the Dark Lord could use more of those on his side.
The sun starts to rise and the sky turns a soft orange as Sirius moves to crawl back into his bed. Within hours, the quiet would be gone, and Sirius was scared he would never experience that kind of quiet again. The dawn of the morning sun begins the last true year of his life: his seventh year at Hogwarts.
He awoke only an hour later to Kreacher grumbling around his bedroom, complaining about God-Knows-What. Sirius and Kreacher never did have a very good relationship, but what was lacking in Kreacher’s feelings about Sirius was made up for in Regulus, who loved the house elf like family. When he was eight, Regulus cried when he learned Kreacher was not getting paid for his labor. Sirius can’t believe that was the same boy who is now eager to fight alongside their Dark Lord.
Funnily enough, when Sirius walked down the stairs, he saw Regulus sitting at the dining room table with his idol sitting at the head. Orion and Walburga dined silently, suddenly hushing whenever they were in the Lord’s presence. Sirius wondered why he never earned that kind of respect from his parents.
“Well if it isn’t Sirius Black, my youngest recruit,” the Dark Lord acknowledges, “Eager to get back to school?”
“No, my Lord,” Sirius answers honestly, taking a seat at the table beside his brother, “I would rather stay and fight, but I know of the importance of my position at Hogwarts.”
”Yes, you have done us well the past summer,” the Dark Lord smiles, flashing his perfect pearly white teeth, “I recognize that your position in Dumbledore’s castle is not ideal, but I’m sure you will serve me well, and report back any information. Remember your task.”
”I will, my Lord,” Sirius responds immediately, ignoring Regulus’ curious gaze at the mention of his task.
He seems pleased enough with that because then he turns to Orion and Walburga with a grin.
”Orion, Walburga, I hope you’ve been treating these boys well?” the Dark Lord says, smirking at Sirius like he is in on a secret.
”Of course,” Orion responds, fear heavy behind his grey eyes.
”Good,” his eyes narrow, “Because I do not wish for anything to happen to them. Sirius is mine and Regulus shall be soon enough. If anything happens, the perpetrator will have to answer to me, do you understand?”
Walburga and Orion nod, but Walburga flashes Sirius a look of rage. His left forearm burns.
”Glad to know we are all on the same page,” the Dark Lord hisses.
”My Lord,” Regulus starts, “I am overjoyed with the thought of officially becoming one of your followers, I do think I would be of great benefit to the cause what with my potions skill and defensive spells expertise. I duel with Sirius quite frequently, and I say I manage to keep up.”
”Relax, boy,” the Dark Lord laughs a dry and hollow laugh, “I might take back my promise if you keep babbling on about all that nonsense. Now if you excuse me, I have important places to be. Sirius, have a nice school year. Write me if you need anything or have any intel you think is… important. I will meet with you over the winter holidays to discuss your progress.”
“Of course, my Lord. See you soon.” And with that, the man disappeared.
Once he is out of the room, Grimmauld Place falls into yet another uncomfortable, miserable silence as the family stares at Sirius, each wondering what task the Dark Lord has given him.
To diffuse the tension, Sirius reaches over and ruffles Regulus’ hair.
“Nice try, Reg. You managed to be possibly the biggest arse kisser I have ever seen.”
Regulus shoves Sirius’ hands off, all thoughts of the previous conversation seemingly forgotten.
“Come off of it. Like you weren’t the same way before he marked you.”
Sirius gasps with fake annoyance.
“How dare you! I happen to be extremely likable and I did not have to even try to get the mark, unlike somebody I know.”
“I’ll have it in no time, brother, wait and see. I will be the Dark Lord's most loyal and devoted follower. He will grow to appreciate my devotion to the cause, I can feel it.”
Sirius raises a brow.
“Whatever you say.”
He managed to get through breakfast without a peep from his mother or father, probably because of the threat from the Dark Lord still hanging over their heads.
At 10:00 sharp, Sirius apparates to the station alongside Regulus. For somebody his age, Sirius was quite advanced at apparition. His goal was to become so skilled he could achieve inner-continental apparition, but he recognized that it was very far-fetched.
The Hogwarts Express is loud and boisterous, as usual. Potter and his gang are running around like lunatics. Sirius scowls at the lot of them.
Filthy blood traitors.
He saunters into a compartment, Regulus following with his head held high. Some students referred to the Black Brothers Slytherin royalty, and they were, what with the chokehold they have on the rest of their house.
Even as the brothers sit alongside Evan, Barty, and Adrian, a group of younger Slytherin girls eye them from the compartment across. Sometimes all of the attention got on Sirius’ nerves, but the majority of the time, he basked in it.
That night, as his dormmates sleep, Sirius crawls up to the astronomy tower, mulling over the Dark Lord’s words, and how on earth he will accomplish his task with no other help.
Not wanting to feel stressed before his classes even started, Sirius tried his best to relax and forget about the threat hanging over his head.
He decided to look at the stars. Without any trouble, he found Canis Major, and there he was. Sirius.
The brightest star in the sky.