December- 1971
Monday, 20th December, 1971
Regulus's leg bounces restlessly up and down. He stares straight ahead, his gaze never straying from the entryway of Grimmauld Place. His hands are stuck underneath his thighs, pressed firmly against the staircase where he sits, in an attempt to prevent himself from biting his fingernails.
Orion is expected back later this evening, having left a few days ago for some very important work trip. Walburga waits silently in the drawing room with the door cracked open, allowing the warm, thin glow being emitted from the fireplace to slip into the hall. In a few days, his extended family would stream into the house, and things will become even more hectic than they had been previously.
The term "extended family" is used generously, he thinks, as he's ninety percent sure that most of the people that come are no more related to him than Merlin himself.
On a technicality, yes, he supposes he is distant cousins with Lucius Malfoy. But they didn't grow up in the same house. They didn't spend summers painting sunsets and racing broomsticks together. Hell, they hardly even spoke to each other during these little gatherings, let alone outside of them.
The only reason Regulus could see for this so called family being here was for dramatics.
A member of the Black family had been sorted into Gryffindor— this would be the most amazing bit of live theater anyone had ever seen. And of course Sirius knew going into this that a performance would be demanded of him and he would be forced to deliver, wether he liked it or not.
Regulus thinks he's the only one actually waiting for Sirius, not for what will follow.
He knows it's not going to end well. He knows his mother is furious and will be yelling at everyone the entire two week duration of the break. But he also knows that he can't wait to see his brother in person again.
Sirius hasn't written to him like he promised, but he's not mad about it. He's probably got loads of work to do at school, he doesn't have time to be writing letters to his brother every day. And even if he did, their mother had made it clear it would only get him into more trouble. So it's really not a big deal. Regulus understands.
What he doesn't understand is what could possibly be taking them so long to return home.
Kreacher had been entrusted with the task of collecting Sirius and bringing him back to Grimmauld Place, Walburga refusing to be seen with the boy after what he had done.The house elf had apparated away sometime that afternoon, and since then Regulus had been waiting in this exact spot, his patience slowly decreasing.
The sun had already began to sink below the horizon when Regulus started to think something may have happened to them. Kreacher had never been late for anything a day in his life, always keen to keep things in order for his Mistress, so if they were late it had to have been Sirius's doing.
Maybe he had played a trick on Kreacher to delay their arrival. Or perhaps he had refused to follow Kreacher at all, demanding that their mother come to retrieve him. That didn't seem likely, but then again Sirius liked to stay unpredictable. What if he had managed to avoid the house elf entirely, hitching a ride on the train back to Hogwarts. What if he hadn't boarded the train at all? The possibilities were seemingly endless.
A loud crack sounds off from the front porch suddenly.
Regulus sits up straighter than he ever had before. His right hand flies out from underneath him, connecting to his mouth. The rest of his body goes rigid, frozen in place, as the doorknob turns and pushes inward.
Sirius walks past the threshold to Grimmauld Place, dragging his trunk behind him. He shivers, shaking his head and shoulders dramatically as he steps in further, allowing Kreacher to enter and shut the door behind them.
"Siri!", Regulus exclaims, unable to contain himself. He jumps up, rushing down the few remaining steps.
Sirius looks up just in time to prepare himself for Regulus's attack. Regulus throws himself into his brothers arms, forcing a muffled grunt out of him that's followed by a soft chuckle.
"I missed you, too", he says, wrapping his arms around his brother. He squeezes hard, lifting Regulus up onto his toes.
They stay like this for a few seconds, Regulus's face buried into his brothers cloak, before finally pulling away. Regulus stares up at Sirius with wide eyes, practically vibrating.
"Comment ça s'est passé? Est-ce que ça fait peur? Quelle est la taille du château? Est-ce que les escaliers bougent vraiment? Qu'en est-il des enseignants, sont-ils méchants? Est-ce qu'ils donnent des punitions sévères? Combien de sorts avez-vous appris? Oh, tu dois me montrer, s'il te plaît! Dis-moi tout!"
His words blend together until Sirius can barely understand him. He laughs, shaking his head.
"I—"
"Sirius", Walburga cuts him off.
Regulus starts, spinning around. His smile instantly drops. The look on their mothers face is all business, an air of disgust exuding off of her. She holds the door to the drawing room open, clearly beckoning him inside. After a moment she raises an eyebrow, tilting her head as if challenging him.
It's silent for a moment before Sirius brushes past him. Both Regulus and Walburga watch as he walks forward and turns into the room with his head held high.
Regulus goes to follow him, then abruptly stops when Walburga snaps her head back to him. Something about her glare makes him feel much smaller than he actually is. Much more insignificant.
She stalks into the room, practically slamming the door behind her. The last thing Regulus hears is a single spell being cast, and the house is once more thrown into an ominous silence- though he doubts that's the case for Sirius.
Regulus stands in the hall, unsure of what to do. He turns around himself only to see that Kreacher has already disappeared with Sirius's forgotten trunk. He puffs out his cheeks in thought, then decides to head back upstairs.
No big deal. There's still the remaining two weeks.
—————
Three hours and five outfit changes later, Regulus finally hears a familiar pattern of footsteps climb to the floor below. He rushes out of his room, quickly making his way down to his brother.
He reaches the hall at the same time Sirius does. Sirius looks ready to say something, then quickly stops. He takes Regulus by the wrist, pulling him towards his bedroom. Regulus stumbles in and watches as Sirius looks out to the hall before closing the door as carefully as possible.
"Que s'est-il passé?" he asks. "Qu’est-ce qu’elle a dit?"
Sirius turns, as if just noticing Regulus was there. His head shakes slightly, the tiniest smile playing at his lips.
"Boring stuff, really. Nothing she hasn't sent in her howlers, anyways. It doesn't matter." He steps forward, eyes traveling up and down Regulus. "It's good to see you."
Regulus nods, looking up at him expectantly. After about five seconds, he can't hold it in any longer. "Well?"
Sirius' smile grows wider.
"It was fantastic, Reg. The most amazing thing that's ever existed."
He moves to his bed, crawling up and sitting with his legs crossed underneath him. Regulus follows, kneeling in front of him. He leans forward, not wanting to miss a word of what Sirius has to say.
"The castle is absolutely massive. And of course the stairs move. Actually, I'm pretty sure everything moves. I can hardly find any of the classrooms."
Regulus giggles, causing Sirius to finally give a genuine smile.
"The teachers are fair, though they haven't shown me anything I didn't already know" he boasts, rolling his eyes. "As for punishments, I wouldn't know how bad they are."
Regulus was thoroughly surprised. He had been certain Sirius would've racked up enough lectures to last a full week by now, if not more.
"I thought you've been causing trouble already?" he asks, surprise evident in his voice.
Sirius gives a mischievous grin.
"Oh, we have. We just haven't gotten caught yet."
He catches his brothers gaze before both boys devolve into laughter. Sirius falls back against his bed, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to his stomach.
"The very first prank we pulled? Bloody brilliant, I'm telling you. Oh, I wish you could've seen it. Two whole days, the Slytherins were itching!"
Regulus could only imagine what they had done to render those results, and by what means. He wondered what Narcissa must have thought of her cousin messing with her housemates; she had to have been absolutely livid.
"He's a genius, really, that Lupin" Sirius continues. "I'm sure once I get this spell worked out, he'll be off in no time."
Regulus didn't know who that was or what Sirius was crafting but he didn't care. Every word out of his mouth drew Regulus in further and further, and he didn't want him to ever stop talking.
Sirius abruptly sat up again, reaching forward to take Regulus by his hands.
"And James! Merlin, Regulus, I can't wait till you meet him next year. He's gonna love you, I know it!"
Regulus just laughs, shaking his head at his brothers excitement. Sirius slides off his bed, walking to his dresser and pulling open the desired drawers.
"I mentioned that bloke Shacklebolt, didn't I? So serious, he is. Never wants to have any fun with us."
He pulls out a light grey waistcoat and matching trousers, tossing them onto his bed. He pauses for a moment, thinking, then heads to the trunk at the foot of his bed.
Regulus twists in his spot on the bed, studying him as he roots around through the mess.
"Oh!" Sirius shouts, causing Regulus to pull back a bit. "I almost forgot!"
He grabs whatever he was looking for out of the trunk and slams it shut. Stepping on top of it, he climbs back onto the bed and plops down in front of Regulus.
"These are for you", he says, dropping a few small packages in his brothers lap.
Regulus looks down with furrowed brows.
They're all identical. Short, pentagonal pyramids, bluish in color with gold accents. Regulus picks one up to read the label: Honeydukes' Chocolate Frogs.
He looks back up at Sirius, concerned. "But mother says—"
"I don't care what mother says." Sirius interrupts him, voice slightly hardened. "I got those for you. If anything, I'll be the one to pay for it."
Regulus's heart swells. For the first time in three months, he feels safe. He's not worried about getting screamed at or sent to bed without dinner or even his mother possibly using an Unforgivable curse on him. As long as Sirius is here, he can breathe.
"I've got something for you, too", Regulus recalls. He slides off the bed, gathering up the sweets. "Give me one second."
He doesn't wait for an answer, rushing out of the room. He flies up the stairs to the fourth floor and bursts into his bedroom. He quickly shoves the chocolate frogs under a spare pillow on his bed and draws the curtains tight. Confident in the hiding spot, he goes to retrieve the painting.
He picks it up from its resting spot on the easel, making sure to only touch the sides of it. Carefully, he carries it out with him back down to Sirius. He takes each step one by one, not wanting to risk any accidents.
When he reenters, Sirius is standing in front of his mirror, having changed into the vest and trousers he picked out. He messes with his hair, pushing it this way and that, trying to make up his mind. His eyes fall on Regulus standing behind him and he whips around.
"What do we think?" he asks, running his hands flat across his hair. "Neat—" he lets go and threads his fingers into his hair, shaking the black curls into a mess, "or loose?"
"She hates it when you wear it loose."
"Loose it is." He grins and steps forward, hand held out expectantly.
Regulus hands the canvas over to him. He watches intently as Sirius turns it over, revealing the painted flowers he put so much thought into.
Sirius's mouth falls open, a small gasp escaping him. Regulus can hardly contain himself.
"Reggie...", he whispers, eyes never leaving the painting. He takes in ever detail, every color, every brush stroke from top to bottom. "It's gorgeous."
"Yeah?" Regulus's eyes are full to the brim with hope.
Sirius continues to stare in silence, appreciating every aspect of the painting. He's completely hypnotized by the picture, too busy admiring his brothers work to respond. Finally, he lifts his gaze.
Regulus is overjoyed to see the massive smile spread across Sirius's face— the one reserved especially for him that proudly screams 'That's my brother.'
Sirius pulls him in, giving him a one-armed hug.
"I love it. Thank you, Reggie."
Regulus squeezes him tight before pulling back, still smiling like crazy. He watches Sirius set the painting on top of dresser, leaning against the wall, then turn back to him.
"Right", Sirius says, a look of playful determination on his face. "Let's get this over with, then?"
—————
Thursday, 23rd December, 1971
The next few days were full of running through halls, giggling over meals, and whispering under bedsheets between the two boys. Grimmauld had never before seen such childish glee.
Regulus demanded to hear every second of what Sirius had done, and of course Sirius, ever the one to brag, obliged. Every second of the day, he regaled Regulus with stories of excitement and adventure.
He told him all about the boys he shared his room with and how much he already adored them; Remus Lupin, who had punched one of the Slytherin boys in the face, Peter Pettigrew, who was too sweet for his own good, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had taken one look at the other four and promptly decided to stay far, far away from them.
And, of course, the one and only James Fleamont Potter, who Sirius had claimed was "like a brother to me, Reg. He just gets me, y’know?"
Regulus wasn't jealous. He always knew it would happen, that it was expected Sirius would want friends who were actually his age. And that was fine, he had no problems with Sirius wanting other people to spend time with. And even if James was like a brother to him, they weren't actually related by blood.
So really, Regulus had no reason to be jealous.
And he wasn't.
Regulus was not jealous.
Either way, he had no choice but to listen to Sirius's rants about the boy. It seemed like no matter what he did or where he went, James was always with him.
Unfortunately, those few days were also filled with lots and lots of screaming, so much so that Regulus could hardly tell where his mother's voice ended and Sirius's began.
Sirius was already figure skating across the worlds thinnest layer of ice, and on top of that he never really had been one to know when to quit. So, every night since his arrival, he had been sent up to his room in the middle of dinner by Walburga, forced to abandon his meal and be left in solitude.
Regulus, though desperate for it to end, never intervened.
"Can't you just stay quiet for once?", he had asked from his spot on the bed, watching Sirius pace back and forth in front of him. "She'd let you be more if you didn't disagree with everything they said."
"Can't you just speak up for once?" Sirius had stopped, giving him a half disgusted, half pitying look. "Honestly, Reg. Sometimes I wonder whose side you're on."
That hadn't seemed fair.
It didn't make a difference to Regulus who was on whose side. They were both wrong and they were both right. If Sirius didn't argue with their mother she wouldn't be as cruel, but if Walburga stopped hexing them then maybe Sirius would listen.
It was that simple. Wasn't it?
Today seemed to be going well, though.
This morning, Regulus had woken his brother with many vigorous jumps to his bed, nearly breaking his ribs in the process. After forcing Sirius out of bed, the two ushered themselves around from room to room in search of new activities.
Hours passed by like seconds when Sirius was around. He had this liveliness to him that made you want to stop what you were doing and get lost in whatever he said. If Regulus could, he would bottle that feeling so he could keep it forever.
They had managed to survive till the evening without Walburga going in on them. By that point, they had welcomed their aunt and uncle, along with Narcissa, who would be joining them for dinner.
Bellatrix had been unable to attend. Regulus restricted his relief to an internal reaction.
Dressed in robes far too fancy and far too stuffy for his liking, Regulus was forced to gather around the dining room table with his family. He never enjoyed these dinners for many reasons— the clothes, the food, the forced laughter from the adults. The list goes on and on.
His least favorite thing, however, had to be that once the meal began, all of the children were expected to remain silent.
It wasn't that he had a great deal to contribute to the conversation— he couldn't care less about that. But on the rare occasion that someone said something actually funny or one of his cousins spilled soup on their lap, he was forbidden to react. And anyhow, the rule itself seemed stupid and belittling; he was deemed unworthy of being listened to simply because he wasn't of age?
Nevertheless, Regulus abided. The same could not be said for Sirius.
They had just been served the main course when things really kicked off. Regulus, becoming increasingly more interested in his knife and fork, had missed whatever lead up to the altercation currently going down. All he knew was that his attention was drawn away by a fist slamming down on the table next to him.
"Bullshit!", Sirius yelled, his words directed towards the head of the table where their father sat. The force of his punch caused his silverware to jump on his plate. "That's bullshit, and you know it!"
"Sirius", Orion began, his voice low and steady as always. "Qu'est-ce que tu penses te donner le droit de me crier dessus?"
"You're wrong! You're wrong and you know it and you don't care! None of you care! All you worry about is yourselves and what helps you and you don't give a damn if it's actually hurting other people—"
"That's enough, Sirius", Walburga warns. Her hands are in her lap as she stares daggers at her son.
Sirius stands, pushing his chair back so hard it falls over.
"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you spout nonsense when those people are my friends— I won’t do it! They're nicer than you lot and they're a better family than you, too!"
"Hey—" Regulus utters, then promptly presses his lips shut. Narcissa must have had the same reaction as him, though, because at the exact same time he hears her give an offended "Sirius!"
"Enough!" Walburga shouts, standing forcefully. She breathes for a moment, then continues. "You have made a mockery of this dinner and I will not allow it to continue. Out!"
Sirius scoffs, stepping over his fallen chair. "Gladly."
The room is silent as he exits, the stomping of his feet on the stairs slowly fading. Regulus spares a glance towards Narcissa and finds her in his same position, head bowed slightly, staring down at her plate.
The chair floats back up to its place at the table. Walburga sits, making some comment that Regulus doesn't hear, followed by more jabbering from the other adults. He doesn't finish his food, opting to stick his hands under his thighs for the remainder of the night. After another hour and a half, Regulus is finally excused from the table.
He's just about to knock on Sirius's door when it swings open before him. Sirius looks up in surprise, then quickly brings a finger up to his lips signaling Regulus to stay quiet.
Regulus steps back to let Sirius into the hall, frowning in confusion when he notices the trunk being dragged behind him. Sirius motions to the other end, and after a second Regulus catches on. He climbs over to the other side and lifts it up by the handle.
Together, the two boys carry the trunk up another two floors, stopping intermittently to rest their hands and make sure no adults hear them.
Once they reach the fifth floor, Sirius signals Regulus again, and he lets go.
"Sirius", he whispers, slightly out of breath, "what are you doing?"
Sirius doesn't stop. He walks over to the sunroom, easing open the door, then returns for his trunk.
"I've got to go back", he answers.
Regulus shakes his head. "Back? Go back where?"
"To Hogwarts, Reg. I can't stay here anymore." He drags his trunk through the door and begins to head for the fireplace.
Suddenly, Regulus's gut lurches. His body physically reacts to the carpet being ripped out from under him, his legs almost giving out.
"What?", Regulus practically shouts. Sirius freezes, glancing out the door. "No, you can't! You can't go back now, there's still another week before—"
"It's no use Reg. They'll only scream at me."
"But they don't have to." Regulus's mind is frantic, trying to think of anything to get his brother to stay. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears. "It doesn't have to be like that. If you just stop putting up a fight—"
"I'm not the problem here, Regulus. They're trying to control us, can't you see that?"
Something presses against his chest, making it harder for him to breathe. His voice is small when he responds. "She only wants what's best for us."
Sirius stops again, staring at his brother. His glare is startlingly intense, cold as stone.
"Hogwarts is what's best for me."
The silence threatens to choke them. Regulus's vision begins to blur. Somethings flickers across Sirius's face before he's steeling himself, forcing his feet to keep moving.
"Please." Regulus catches up to him. He reaches forward, grabbing Sirius's arm as he goes to scoop up some of the floo powder. "Please, I can't...you have to stay, you have to."
The door to the sunroom slams shut on its own. Sirius jumps, then looks down at Regulus, shocked. Regulus's mind feels scrambled, unable to form full sentences, instead grasping at fragments and singular words. He's burning up and he can't get enough air into his lungs—perhaps he's under water again. He just barely registers the rivers streaming down his face. Yes, that's it. He's underwater.
"There's another way, s'il vous plaît. You-you...you can stay and you can be quiet and she won't give you a second thought. Tu peux, je sais que tu peux. Et...we can do it together, if you just stay. S'il vous plaît, I need you to stay."
The words don't make sense in that order— in fact, he's not even certain they're in the same language. His brain can't form any better excuses. He sounds pathetic. He is pathetic. But he has to try.
Sirius shuts his eyes. He breathes deep through his nose, collecting himself. For one second Regulus is relieved, thinking he's gotten through to him, but then Sirius is releasing himself from his grasp.
"I'm sorry, Reggie."
He takes a handful of the black powder.
"I'll write to you. I promise."
He steps into the hearth, pulling his trunk as close as possible.
"Hogs Head", he states, throwing down the powder.
The green flames sprout up at his feet, growing and encasing him inside. In a flash, they shrink back to nothing, leaving only an empty fireplace in their wake.
Regulus can hardly hear the sound of footsteps ascending the staircase over his own sobs.