Icarus and His Sun

Sirius would rather eat nothing but dead slugs and maggots for the rest of his life than have to spend Christmas at Grimmauld Place. He wanted nothing more than to run off to the Potter's and spend the whole break mucking about with James. But he knew that Regulus would never agree to coming along, and he had sworn to himself after last Christmas that he would never abandon his brother in that house again. So he had resigned himself to being miserable for two weeks.

Just two bloody weeks. That was all.

The first half had been only mildly unpleasant. He received his fair share of yelling, smacking, and a few light curses, but things had been relatively calm over all, even for Walburga. The worst she had done so far was hex him so that he was unable to sit at all for a full two days after he had refused to move when ordered away from the dinner table. When she finally let him go, he had collapsed from sheer exhaustion and earned himself a beating for showing disrespect.

He tried to stay away from her at all costs in order to prevent any problems. If he couldn't stay quiet in an argument then the next best thing was to not get into an argument at all. And so he did his best to never leave his room unless absolutely necessary, completing any chores as quickly as he could and retreating upstairs to safety.

But of course, since he was Sirius, things were bound to go wrong at some point.

Every year, the Blacks hosted an obscenely massive and over the top gala on Christmas day to show off their wealth to their friends and family. Most pureblood families, those who had not dirtied their name by associating with muggles, were welcome to join.

These events were black tie, incredibly prestigious, and very, very boring. They carried on through most of the night and mainly consisted of adults pretending like they didn't despise each other as they gossiped about people two feet away.

As underage wizards, both Sirius and his brother would be playing the role of waiters for the night.

If wearing a horrendous suit and having to hand out tasteless hors d'oeuvres wasn't bad enough, the cherry on top was that Sirius was unfortunately still the heir of Black. This meant that on his mothers beck and call he was to present himself to whatever grown up she had enticed at the moment and listen and nod politely while they ravaged him.

The insults wouldn't have been nearly as severe had he been sorted into Slytherin like the rest of his family. However, as that was not the case, he was forced to endure hearing how much of a disgrace he was over and over.

It was getting a bit irritating, frankly.

"But you know it's all rubbish," Regulus assured him. "None of them really know you. Not like I do, at least, and I don't think you're a disgrace."

"Well it doesn't matter what you and I think, does it?" he asked as he loaded up their platters with more bits of food that he couldn't name. He had dragged Regulus into the kitchen with him to regroup. "It matters what they think, and what they think is that I'm the scum of the earth."

"I'm sorry, but you can't change the way they think, Siri. There's nothing you can do."

Sirius grimaces, throwing food down on the plate. "Don't be stupid, there has to be something we can do."

"Well unless you plan on blowing up the ballroom, I don't see how you can get out of this." He takes his platter from the table, heading towards the dining room to rejoin the party.

"Merlin, I wish I could blow up the—"

Sirius falters, hand freezing on its way to grab another serving.

"Blow up the ballroom," he mutters.

His mind races, going to several different places almost immediately. First to the Gryffindor boys dormitory, then to the third floor prefects bathroom, and finally to his school trunk sitting at the foot of his bed.

"Blow up the ballroom!"

He rushes out the kitchen door calling to his brother. He catches Regulus just as he's about to leave the dining room.

"Reggie! Reggie, I need your help!" He takes the platter out of his hands and drops it on the table behind him. The familiar buzz of excitement flows just under the surface of his skin.

Regulus shrinks back against the door, slightly frightened.

"Listen, I need you to get something from my room, alright? In my trunk, at the bottom, there should be a little brown chest. I need you to grab it and bring it back here, I'll go out and make sure no one comes through the hall for a while."

"Sirius, what are you—"

"Just do it, Reggie, please?"

His eyes are wide and the smile on his face has got to be borderline psychotic. Regulus studies him for a second, looks at his forgotten platter on the table, then sighs and shakes his head.

"If I get in trouble for this I'll hex you."

"Good boy," Sirius says, pushing Regulus out the door and towards the stairs.

He only has to stand watch for a few minutes until Regulus is coming back down, chest in hand. Sirius is practically bouncing off the walls as he brings Regulus back to the dining room to explain the plan.

He opens the chest and digs inside, pulling out a few bundles of small red sticks. He hands two bunches over to his brother and takes two of his own.

"Right, put those in your pockets," Sirius starts, following his own directions. "When you get back to the ballroom, find a place to hide them. Somewhere that you can't see them but that'll draw a lot of attention once they go off."

Regulus draws his eyebrows. "Go off? What are these?"

"You'll see," he says as he takes another pack from the chest to demonstrate. "Now look, there's a little tag in one of the sticks here, see? When you find a good spot, leave it and pull the tag. They're gonna kick in fast, so you'll have to hurry to plant the second one."

He picks up Regulus's platter, handing it back to him, then runs back to the kitchen to grab his own. Together they walk back to the ballroom to carry out the mission.

"I'm placing mine now. Be quick," he whispers before speed walking to the other side of the room.

There aren't many options for his hiding spots, but he's had practice and can make do. He leaves one bundle in a large potted plant, dropping it into the soil to wait.

He should've planned ahead though, as he soon realizes he's posted himself far away from any remaining objects to hide them in. The only available spot is a table farther down the wall. He resigns himself to throwing them underneath and pulls the tag when someone walks up to him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Narcissa whispers angrily. She grabs at his hand, snatching the bundle of sticks away. "You always have to go looking for trouble, don't you?"

Sirius's eyes go wide, his mouth falling open in shock. This will not end well.

"Narcissa, give that back." His eyes are on the sticks, watching them carefully.

"And let you spoil a perfectly good party? Honestly, Sirius, for once just calm down."

"Cissy this isn't a joke, you're going to get hurt."

Something in his voice must sound panicked enough to get her to listen. She stops, staring skeptically, but doesn't hand them over.

He doesn't have time for this. He quickly grabs her hand, wrenching the sticks free of her grasp, and ignores her shouts of protest. Without thinking, he hurls the sticks into the air directly above the crowd.

The potted plant bursts into fantastic colors, showering everything around it in bright explosions.

Then, across the room, more explosions and colors come up from the floor underneath one of the window curtains.

The room is suddenly filled with hundreds of fireworks, shooting out and soaring up higher towards the ceiling. They pop ceremoniously, blues and reds and greens colliding in the air for a brilliant light show.

The real fun is happening on the dance floor.

The fireworks that Sirius threw land directly at the center of everything. The crowd erupts into screams, people running and shielding their faces from the burning flares of light. Smoke begins to gather and thicken the air. His mothers voice booms instructions to leave the room, though only a few people listen.

Regulus appears at his side, looking distraught.

"Sirius, what did you do?"

"Blew up the ballroom," he laughs. "Just like you said!"

Regulus shakes his head, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly.

"How long is this supposed to last?" Narcissa calls, covering her eyes with her hands.

"Ten minutes, at least!"

She gives Sirius a similar look. Quickly, she grabs both boys and runs across the room to the doors.

Out in the hallway, adults are squashed close together. They settle themselves, trying to take account of everyone and attend to each other. One of the ladies fans herself dramatically, drawing attention from her husband.

"Sirius Orion Black!"

Walburga's voice screeches over the faded popping of the firecrackers. Sirius looks up to see his mother fuming.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Sirius just grins, spreading his arms wide. "It's a party!"

She points a finger towards the stairs, anger fueling her every move. "Out! Now!"

Sirius turns on his heel, practically skipping to the stairs. Walburga looks at Regulus with just as much rage.

"You as well! Go!"

Regulus follows his brother. When they reach the third floor they enter Sirius's bedroom. They listen to everyone downstairs leaving Grimmauld as they wait.

"I can't believe I let you rope me into this," Regulus says pacing the floor. He's got his nails stuck between his teeth. "I should've known you'd do something horrid."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "A few fireworks never hurt anybody, Reg."

"Mother will tear you apart, you know."

He shrugs, sitting up on his bed. "I don't care. What's the worst she could do, really?"

The sound of footsteps on the stairs diverts their attention. Regulus jumps, cowering against the wall, while Sirius hops off of his bed to face their mother head on.

Walburga enters, and the door slams behind her hard enough to echo through the house.

"Never in all my life have I seen such blatant and unashamed disrespect!"

She slaps him hard across the face. When he doesn't move she grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him up to his toes.

"You bring shame to this family! Your very existence is a mistake and an awful tragedy!" She throws him down to the floor, then delivers a strong kick to his stomach when he tries to get up.

Sirius clutches his abdomen, eyes watering. He can hardly breathe but he's not certain he wants to anyways.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Walburga demands.

Sirius raises his head, gasping coughs forcing their way out of his throat. His hair is wild and fraying, no longer the pristine, slicked back look he had been forced into for the gala. There's anger in his eyes and when he speaks his voice is sharp enough to cut.

"Fuck. You."

"Crucio!"

The pain rips through him immediately, making him unable to hold himself up anymore. His head hits the floor but he barely notices over the fact that his bones are being broken and mended and broken again all at once. He's not sure if the sound he hears is coming from himself or from the ringing intended to burst his eardrums.

Then suddenly, it's over.

"How dare you embarrass me in my own home?" Walburga thrashes her wand again in the middle of her sentence.

Sirius's hands scratch at his neck, trying to open his airways more. He knows it's not real, that if he really couldn't breathe he wouldn't be able to scream, but that doesn't make it any less scary. His head is pounding, like it's being bashed against a wall repeatedly. Strangely, the image of Remus Lupin crosses his mind for one split second, then is washed away by unbearable pain once more.

He's relieved of his agony.

Through the haze of reality, he sees his brother pressed up against the wall. Tears are streaming down Regulus's face, the hand covering his mouth shaking violently.

"Reg," Sirius croaks, lungs struggling to take in enough air. He chokes, trying to muster enough strength to crawl forward. "Reggie...help me—"

Walburga strikes him again, shouting something he doesn't understand.

His skin is being melted off of him. The invisible flames lit inside of him are hotter than a thousand suns. Even if he wanted to, he's physically unable to open his eyes. The fire consumes him until all he knows is pain, pain, pain.

It feels like years before he's released again.

Sirius lays still, chest heaving, with his face pressed into the floor. He can barely get his brain to work through his exhaustion.

"You will not leave this room until you are sent back to Hogwarts. I will not tolerate this behavior any longer, Sirius."

Walburga's words are harsh and sickening. She storms out of the room, closing the door just as fiercely as when she had entered.

It's almost twenty minutes before Sirius feels strong enough to try and stand. He's gotten to his knees, leaning hard on his bed for support, when he spots a figure in front of him. Regulus is shaking, eyes frozen on Sirius. His trousers are wet and he stands in a small puddle on the floor.

Suddenly, Sirius feels an intense anger take over him.

He would never wish the cruciatus curse on anyone. It was illegal for good reason— this kind of fury was too cruel to be exercised freely. There was nothing he could think of at all that would be worse than falling victim to it.

However, if the opportunity were to arise, there was not a doubt in Sirius's mind that he would take a thousand crucio's if it would spare Regulus from having to experience one.

And yet the boy had stood there, listening to Sirius scream and cry and beg for help, and he had done nothing.

On top of that, Walburga had left her youngest son unharmed. Not a single scratch had been made on Regulus despite his involvement in the prank. Of course it was Sirius's idea but Regulus hadn't refused. He hadn't been held against his will. At any point, he could've walked away.

But he didn't. And Sirius alone paid for it.

"Get out," Sirius breathes, head still spinning. When Regulus doesn't react, he raises his voice. "Get out!"

Regulus jumps, hearing Sirius for the first time.

"Sirius...Sirius, Je n'ai pas pu...I didn’t—"

"Out!" Sirius pulls himself the rest of the way up, gripping the side of his bed. He grunts as he limps forward.

Regulus backs away, keeping his eyes on Sirius as he inches towards the door.

"You're a coward! You hear me? A coward!"

He pushes Regulus, forcing him away quicker.

"I hate you! I hate you, get out of my sight!"

He doesn't mean it. He knows he'll always love his brother, but right now he's the last person he wants to see. He just has to be mean enough to get Regulus to leave.

Finally, Regulus does. He flees the room, thundering up the stairs to escape. Sirius shuts the door behind him, throwing his whole body weight into it and sliding down to sit on the ground.

Every part of him aches. The lingering feeling of his insides being destroyed doesn't mix well with the guilt that's already stirring up for yelling at Regulus. He's already been tortured by his mother, why not torture himself over how shit of a brother he is.

His eyelids feel heavy as he watches the sun go down through his window, and he can't be bothered to drag himself into bed before falling asleep.