Chapter Text
Number 12 Grimmauld Place was a decrepit old home hidden away by the use of powerful magic in Islington, London. The house was dark and the wallpaper was peeling from the walls in a few places that its occupants had chosen to ignore. The floorboards creaked and groaned as you walked on them, threatening to give out if the pressure put on them was just a bit too much.
It was a place that no one would think ideal to call home.
But, Regulus and Sirius Black had no other choice. If Number 12 wasn't their home, then what was?
Walburga and Orion Black had not shown up to King's Cross station to pick up their sons. So, Regulus and Sirius Black had been forced to make the trek back home by themselves. It wasn't a long walk, really; not more than thirty minutes. But, it was a walk full of a silent dread that seemed to be weighing down on both of their shoulders.
Sirius and Regulus didn't know what would become of them at home. But, this seemed to have become part of their summer routine, hadn't it? The moments where dread would fill them up right before they went home to discover that their worries had not done the horrors that awaited them justice. However, now it was almost torturous.
They were wading through crowds of people that covered the sidewalks of London, watching vehicles pass them on their right. Sirius was much more interested in the transportation than Regulus who was simply staring at the cracked sidewalk and trying not to think about what his parents were bound to do.
"I want to get a motorbike one day," Sirius said, having to raise his voice quite a bit to be heard over the loud noises that came with the busy streets of London.
Regulus looked at his older brother, no longer having to look up anymore. Over the past four years, the boys had grown to the same height, and Regulus knew that he was likely still to grow. The thought of one day being taller than his older brother was an odd one, but he pushed it back as a loud car horn sounded on the other side of the road.
He wrinkled his nose a bit as a group of men on motorbikes went speeding past them, Sirius looking after them in awe and jealousy. "Why wouldn't you just stick to apparation like a normal person?" Regulus asked, dodging out of the way of a woman who sent a rude glare his way.
"We aren't normal people, Regulus. Normal people use this sort of stuff," he gestured to the road.
Regulus rolled his eyes. "Why a motorbike?"
"They're so cool! Can you imagine it? Me with my leather jacket on a motorbike?" He paused, looking forward with a dopey grin on his face as ideas passed behind his eyes. "I'd like to make it fly."
"Yeah, because a flying motorbike will go over great with the Ministry. Isn't that illegal?"
Sirius waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Not like they'll send me to Azkaban for a stupid motorbike."
Regulus felt a quick and shallow pain in his chest at the mention of his brother and Azkaban. Though, all he needed to do to be rid of it was to look at his brother and remember that what he had done had worked; Sirius was not in Azkaban, and as long as Regulus was alive, he would make sure that he never was again.
When they reached the small Borough of Islington, the boys went silent. They were dragging along their trunks (which Mr. and Mrs. Potter had used a quick Shrinking Charm on at Sirius's request), staring at the gap between Numbers 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place with fear taking over every single nerve in their bodies. They didn't talk as they approached the house that - to any other pair of eyes - would have been invisible.
Regulus could feel his heart rate picking up at the mere thought of seeing his parents and receiving the blunt end of their anger. Admittedly, punching Evan Rosier in the face at the Potter's New Year's Eve party had proven to be quite a problematic mistake. However, he knew that it had been deserved, and that was the only thing keeping him from regretting his mistake.
The brothers shot a glance up and down the street before stepping over the line of the Fidelius and out of sight. The walkway up to the dark and looming house was old and cracked, roots breaking apart the stone and weeds poking through the cracks. Regulus didn't understand why his parents would ever allow the house to come to this state, but it made sense if he thought about it. After all, they were busy with their work for the Dark Lord, and they weren't ones for housework. This left the question of why they didn't simply have Kreacher do it, but Regulus tried not to think about it.
Thinking would weaken his Occlumency, and he had no idea of what was waiting for him behind that door.
It was their mother.
Sirius was the first one to reach the door, and he was, therefore, the one to push it open. When the door had opened and sunlight was allowed into the dark walls of Number 12, it beamed on the lower half of Walburga Black's dress.
She had her hands clasped in front of her, staring levelly at her two sons with a menacing glint in her eye. Regulus shut the door behind himself, and the world was plunged into darkness once again.
Regulus straightened his posture and raised his chin a bit, meeting his mother's eyes and giving her a small nod of greeting. "Hello, mother."
She nodded curtly. "Regulus." She looked at Sirius and curled her lip at the ripped trousers and top for a band that she had never heard of. Sirius hadn't even tried to straighten his posture and was instead purposefully slouching much more than could be comfortable and looking at her with an eyebrow slightly raised.
Walburga pursed her lips and cleared her throat before transferring her gaze back onto Regulus. "Go to your room, Sirius," she demanded.
Regulus felt his blood run cold. If his mother had asked only Sirius to go to his room, then that could only mean one thing. She wanted to speak with Regulus.
"Why?" Sirius asked, no longer slouching. He had become very alert when he heard the sharp intake of breath come from Regulus and glanced over to see a shadow cross his face which was completely unrelated to the darkness of the house.
Walburga shot him a glare, a fire of hatred flickering behind her eyes as she reached for her wand. "Because I said so." Her voice held a warning tone, telling him that he would get worse than Regulus if he didn't go up to his room.
"Just go," Regulus muttered. He wasn't about to let his brother take another round of punishment from their parents - not when the two of them were finally becoming close again.
Sirius's eyes darted between his brother and his mother, zeroing in on Regulus and eyeing him warily. Regulus could feel Sirius's gaze, and he turned his head to meet it with a look of determination on his face. It was this look that told Sirius that arguing wouldn't get him anywhere, and he ceded shortly thereafter.
Regulus stared after his brother's retreating back, dread settling in with every step that Sirius took. He knew that Sirius listening to their mother would be good for him, but it certainly meant bad things for Regulus now that Sirius was gone.
When the two Blacks heard the shutting of Sirius's bedroom door and the heavy thuds of his boots as he tramped around his room, Regulus finally turned back to his mother. She was looking at Regulus with something close to hatred flickering behind her eyes. It was nowhere near as intense as the hatred that she held for his brother, but it was there nonetheless.
He had expected his mother to move straight into the reprimanding and the punishment. However, instead, she took a very different approach.
"Has there ever been something in your life, Regulus, that you wanted and we didn't provide?" She questioned, her voice flat and dripping with condescendence.
"No, mother," Regulus replied, his voice a low mumble as he straightened his spine and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Speak louder, Regulus," she demanded. She raised her chin and stared at her son from down the end of her pointed nose even though she could be no more than half an inch taller than him.
"No, mother, there hasn't," he repeated, louder this time.
"Exactly, Regulus. Your father and I have given up so much for you and your brother. We have given you both everything that you have ever needed to succeed, and we have rarely ever asked for anything in return. And how do you repay us? Your brother goes off to join those filthy mudbloods and blood-traitors as though he is nothing but some sort of filth.
"And you, Regulus. Your father and I were so excited for you to finally be able to fulfill everything that we have ever wished for you. You were going to join the cause that we have been fighting for and be among the Dark Lord's highest ranks. It was an honor to not only you, Regulus, but also to us. And, what do you do? You go off and mess it all up, as though our sacrifices mean nothing to you. Do you know how that makes me feel, Regulus?"
"I'm sorry, mother. Evan Rosier was-"
"I do not care what Evan Rosier was doing, Regulus. Evan Rosier is not the one who disappointed me, you were." Her voice was dripping with venom.
It stung. Regulus wished that it wouldn't, but hearing the words come out of her mouth admittedly stung quite a bit. Regulus had never wanted to disappoint his parents - ever. He just wanted to make them proud. And now, here he was, disappointing them anyways and having nothing that he could do about it. After all, it had already happened, right?
"It breaks my heart, Regulus," Walburga continued. Admittedly, it was a tact of manipulation that Regulus had never heard coming from his mother before. But oh, was it effective. "It breaks my heart to know that you do not care about all of the things that we have sacrificed for you."
"I do," Regulus mumbled.
"If you did, then you would not go on disappointing us like your disgrace of a brother!" Hearing her compare Regulus to Sirius invoked a pain in his chest.
Regulus didn't mind being compared to Sirius, really. In fact, under almost every circumstance, he took it as quite a compliment. He looked up to his brother, and being told that he was like him was an honor that Regulus did not want to admit to holding dearly. However, knowing Walburga Black's opinions of Sirius certainly put a damper on the comparison.
"I am nothing like Sirius, mother. I promise." He lost sight of who he was trying to convince.
"I expect you not to be, Regulus. You are the good son, and I cannot bear the thought of sitting back and watching you ruin that."
Regulus nodded his head slowly and swallowed back the lump in his throat. "Was that all, mother? I would like to get started on my summer homework if that's alright."
"What were your marks this year?"
"Top of my year, like always," he said. He didn't know for sure, but he had received quite a few congratulations from his teachers during the days following the end-of-the-year exams, so he was able to assume.
"And you will be getting Prefect?"
Regulus shrugged. "I'm not sure. A boy in my year is also a very good student, and he's responsible as well. I'd say it's between the two of us."
"Who is this boy?"
"Barty Crouch Jr."
She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the name. "You do not want to associate with people like him, Regulus. His father is a disgrace to wizarding kind, not supporting the Dark Lord like he is. He's as good as that Resistance that Albus Dumbledore has scraped together."
Regulus shook his head, feeling an unexpected amount of defensiveness for the boy who he used to call his best mate. "He's nothing like his father. He wants to work for the Dark Lord, just like the rest of us."
She raised her chin a bit more from where it had fallen, narrowing her eyes. "Are you positive, or is he simply spying for his father?"
Regulus nodded his head without hesitation. "He hates his father. He wouldn't spy for him. And besides, he's been talking about joining the Dark Lord since our first year. He went to multiple of the meetings that we during our first few years."
Walburga nodded her head slowly. "Very well. That does not change anything though, Regulus. I expect you to make us proud by getting Prefect. Perhaps it will make up for the insolence that you expressed over Christmas break."
Regulus nodded. "Yes, mother."
Walburga looked her son over, her eyes slightly narrowed. Finally, she looked back up to meet his eyes and took a step back. "Go to your room, Regulus. Your father and I have a meeting to go to. I expect you to tell me if your brother does anything whilst we are gone."
"Yes, mother, I will." He wasn't going to. "Might I ask what the meeting is about?"
"Just plans, Regulus. You do not need to worry yet. I expect that the Dark Lord will be calling everyone to a meeting soon enough; one that you may attend."
"Ok. Have a good meeting, mother." He grabbed his trunk and was just heading for the stairs when his mother called his name. Regulus felt his muscles go tense - he thought that he had been lucky to get away without the use of the Cruciatus. However, the calling of his name certainly indicated that she had more to say, and he couldn't imagine what else it could be. She wouldn't let him go unpunished for what he had done over holiday break, would she?
He turned around, his posture as straight as ever and his face blank. "Yes, mother?" He was preparing himself for the pain that was bound to erupt throughout his entire body.
But, no pain came.
"Be downstairs at 6 PM sharp. We would like to have a family dinner."
Regulus was relieved to not feel the effects of the Cruciatus, but he was confused as to why his mother wanted to have another family dinner. And what did a family dinner include, exactly? Did she mean family as in the ones that she accepted, or family as in Sirius, as well?
"I will, mother," was all he said in response.
She nodded her head curtly and left. She didn't go out of the front door, though; she simply descended the staircase into the basement, presumably to use the floo in the kitchen.
Regulus reached his room shortly thereafter, pushing open the door and throwing his belongings carelessly to the floor. Regulus rounded his bed and collapsed onto it with a quiet thump, sinking into the mattress and staring blankly at the canopy above his bed. He had, so far, been able to avoid any thoughts of Christian. First, he had been busy with the crowded and dirty streets of muggle London, then with the worry that was filling him up for what would happen when he arrived at home, and then finally with his conversation with his mother. However, with all distraction gone, Regulus was left with his festering thoughts and an emotional numbness that was slowly fading away.
He could feel his eyelids becoming heavy. Whether was from the exhaustion paired with his physical wellbeing or mental was the question that he did not care to answer. For, all Regulus truly wanted to do was fall asleep and forget about everything; about Christian, about the Dark Lord, about his parents, everything.
He did not get the chance - not yet.
"Hey, Regulus. The old bat leave?" Sirius Black pushed his way into the room without so much as a knock on the door.
Regulus let out a sigh. "You can't just come into my room unannounced, Sirius. What if I was changing?" He didn't turn to look at his brother as he spoke and instead traced the dark green canopy above him with his eyes.
Sirius waved a dismissive hand. "You weren't."
"Could've been." This one came out as a mumble.
Sirius looked at the trunk that had been carelessly thrown to the ground, and he drew his wand. He cast a quick counter-spell for the Shrinking Charm that Mrs. Potter had cast on it, and it reverted to its normal size within the second. With a smug look on his face, he stowed his wand and looked at his brother.
"You can't use magic outside of school, idiot. You aren't seventeen yet," Regulus pointed out, his voice giving no hint of emotion.
Sirius waved his hand again. "What's nearly four months?"
"Suit yourself."
Sirius was a bit concerned for Regulus. He didn't look very happy at all. However, he didn't look sad, either, and it was a confusing sight for Sirius. Regulus just looked sort of... numb.
Though, this concern quickly dissipated when he glanced around Regulus's room and saw a very interesting sight on the wall. "What the fuck is this?" He demanded.
Regulus didn't make any move to sit up. Though, he did allow his eyes to dart from the fabric above to the form of his brother. Just from the direction that he was walking in, Regulus knew exactly what he was talking about.
Admittedly, he had forgotten the odd shrine-like display for the Dark Lord that his parents had plastered to his bedroom wall.
"Leave it," Regulus muttered, hearing a sound that could only mean Sirius was trying to tear it off of the wall. "Mother and father put a Permanent Sticking Charm on it."
"Mother and father made this?" Sirius asked unsurely.
Regulus nodded. "Yup."
"You didn't ask them to put it here?"
"Nope."
"You don't want it here?"
Regulus let out a vexed sigh. "Can you stop asking me questions, Sirius? I have a headache, and I really just want to go to sleep. Please just let me go to sleep." His voice broke by the smallest bit on the last sentence, and neither brother was able to tell if Regulus was speaking to Sirius or himself. Either way, Sirius ceded.
"Mother and father want to put shit on your walls with Permanent Sticking Charms? Two can play at that game." There was a wicked grin on his face, and Regulus groaned internally at the sight. "Have a good nap, Regulus." Sirius left the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Regulus put in the effort necessary to kick off his shoes and crawl beneath the covers. The softness of his pillow did well to calm him, and he felt relieved as sleep grabbed hold and pulled him into a thoughtless state that he wished he could stay in forever.
Back at King's Cross station, on Platform 9 ¾, there were three boys who had not had to walk home. Instead, they had been picked up by their respective parents (more like parental guardians, in one of their cases), and they were all thrilled. Well, one more than the other two, really.
"HI, MUM!" Benjamin Stone shouted, picking up his pace across the platform and grinning widely at his mother.
Paisley Stone was a mid-sized woman with golden hair that matched the shade of her son's perfectly. Her smile lit up her face as she saw her son approaching, the boy who was just as good as right behind him.
"Hello, boys! Gosh, I've missed you two so much!" Her American accent was still thick despite having spent more than half of her life in the U.K.
She scooped Benji up first, planting kiss after kiss on his cheeks as she squeezed him so tightly that all of the air left his lungs. However, Benji didn't mind. He had missed his parents more than anything, and he was glad to be with at least his mum again. Besides, the hug was quite comforting considering the fact that he had broken up with his girlfriend less than twelve hours before.
Deacon Ackland and Francesco Anderson lingered behind Benji, both of them watching the exchange between the two Stones with smiles on their faces. Francesco was shooting glances towards the boy beside him - the boy who Francesco was beyond proud to call his boyfriend. He looked at the smattering of freckles that covered Deacon's face and neck; the curly brown hair atop of his head; the warmth in his brown eyes that never seemed to leave.
It took quite a lot for Francesco to hold himself back from leaning down and kissing Deacon within the business of the platform.
Paisley Stone released her son after thirty seconds of greeting in the form of kisses on the cheek and tight hugs, and she looked at Deacon with just as much enthusiasm. "I missed you so much, darling!" She greeted Deacon in exactly the same fashion as her other son, and Deacon felt his cheeks go a bit pink. Even then, though, he didn't mind.
"I missed you, too," he replied, a note of humor in his voice.
Paisley released Deacon after a similar amount of time and turned to Francesco. "Francesco, right?" She asked, just to be sure that he was who she was thinking of.
Francesco nodded his head. "Yeah. It's lovely to see you again, Mrs. Sto- oh!" She had pulled him into a tight embrace, swinging the two of them from side to side as she squeezed the air out of his lungs. Francesco hugged her back, a blush spreading over his tanned cheeks.
Deacon looked at him with fondness flickering in his eyes while Benji looked at him with humor. When Paisley Stone had released Francesco, her grin had not faltered in the slightest. "Are your parents here? If not, I don't mind waiting, just to be sure that you aren't alone until they get here?"
"Oh, no, that's quite alright. I think they're around here somewhere..." Francesco glanced around the platform, looking for any sign of his two parents.
"Where's dad, mum?" Benji asked, the absence of his father weighing him down. He knew that his father was a part of Dumbledore's Resistance, and while he had not heard of an attack in the paper, he could never be too careful. After all, they hadn't reported what happened to Regulus and Francesco for months.
"Oh, he's absolutely swamped at work! I'm sorry, darling, he really wished that he could come to see you boys home. But, he'll be home in time for dinner, don't worry!"
Benji nodded, relieved that his father was ok. Paisley Stone took a step away from Francesco and wrapped an arm around Benji's shoulders, her other around Deacon's. She was quite a bit shorter than both of the boys, so seeing her with her arms stretched up so high in order to have them around the shoulders of her sons was quite a humorous sight.
Francesco was just about to say goodbye to his friends and head off to find his parents when two people emerged from the crowd, both looking quite a lot like their son. "Ciao amore mio!" The woman shouted, wrapping her son into a tight embrace the second that he turned around.
Francesco hugged his mum back, a smile on his face as he rested his chin on the short woman's shoulder. "Hi mum," he replied.
Deacon could certainly see the resemblance between Francesco and his parents. His father was a tall man with a strong build and a smile on his face that made the resemblance uncanny. His mother was a shorter woman - not quite as short as Mrs. Stone, but certainly shorter than her son - with a lean frame and a bone structure that was almost identical to her son's. She had long black hair that reached to her mid-back, the same shade as both her son and her husband.
They were quite an attractive family, all three of the onlookers had to admit.
Francesco was released by his mum, and he gave his dad a quick embrace before the three of them turned to Deacon, Benji, and Mrs. Stone.
"Benji, Deacon, it's lovely to see you two again!" Mr. Anderson announced, taking a step forward to shake their hands respectively.
"Nice to see you too, Mr. Anderson!" Benji announced, being the first one to have his hand shaken.
"Deacon!" Mrs. Anderson announced, giving Deacon a quick hug.
"Hullo, Mrs. Anderson," he said, a faint blush on his cheeks when he saw the way that Francesco was looking at him.
Deacon and Benji had, of course, met Francesco's parents. After all, the two of them had spent a considerable amount of time at Francesco's house over holiday break. However, his parents didn't know about Deacon and Francesco. It wasn't that he thought that his parents wouldn't be accepting, it was just... ok, maybe that was it. But he didn't know why he was so worried! Ever since he was little, Francesco's parents had prided themselves on teaching their only son about the disimportance of things as stupid as blood status. How different could sexuality really be?
It was only when Deacon gave Francesco's hand a light brush that he realized that he had zoned out of the conversation. He snapped back in, looking at the people staring at him with confusion clear on his face. "What? Sorry, I just got sort of... lost, I guess."
"That's quite alright! We were just talking about whether or not you would like to spend a few days with us over the summer? I'm taking the boys on a trip to see my family in California, would you like to come along?" Paisley Stone inquired.
Francesco nodded before he had even thought about it fully. Of course he wanted to go on a vacation with his best mate and his boyfriend! And to California? It sounded brilliant! "Yeah!"
Paisley beamed at him. "Excellent!" She turned back to Francesco's parents, who both looked equally as excited for their son. "I'll write all of the details to you?"
"Yes, that would be eccellente!" Mrs. Anderson exclaimed. She had a thick Italian accent, unlike her husband who held the native accent of where he had grown up; London.
The three parents talked to one another for a few more minutes, the three boys standing off to the side. However, when it came time for them to leave, Francesco and Deacon did not want to separate. Though, they knew that they had to, and it made it just a bit easier to know that they would soon be spending quite a few days with one another in a different country.
Francesco hugged Benji first, giving him a pat on the back and wishing him a happy summer until the two would be joined again. When he got to Deacon, he squeezed a bit tighter and held just a bit longer. His head was rested on Deacon's shoulder, and he took in a deep inhale when Deacon pressed his face into the nape of Francesco's neck.
"I love you," he muttered, his voice just above a breath so that no one else would hear.
"I love you, too," Francesco mumbled back.
They released one another and held eye contact until the very last second when the both of them would disappear through the crowds. They were both sad about having to leave one another and nervous about how they would fall asleep without the presence of the other.
Though, at least they would get to spend time together over the summer.
When Regulus awoke, it wasn't of his own accord. Instead, it was a mere thirty minutes after he had fallen asleep, and he was being shaken lightly by an old and wrinkled hand.
"Master Regulus, Mistress is be sending Kreacher to send Master Regulus downstairs for dinner!" Came the old and hoarse croak of the Black family house elf.
Regulus let out a groan and curled himself into a tight ball, hiding his face beneath the duvet and keeping his eyes firmly closed. "I'm too tired," he complained.
Kreacher started hopping nervously from foot to foot beside Regulus. "Mistress is be sending Kreacher, but Master Regulus is not wanting to go!"
"Can you just tell mother that I'm sick?" Regulus requested, his mind still blissfully hazy and unable to process much thought.
"Yes, Master Regulus," Kreacher said. He disappeared with a crack, and Regulus could already feel himself slipping back into a deep sleep.
Though this second round of sleep did not last long, and he was awoken again by that same gentle shaking. "Mistress is be saying that Master Regulus has to come down!" He croaked.
Regulus knew that there was no use in saying no if his mother was so adamant about him coming downstairs. So, he scraped together all of his self-strength and peeled himself from the comfort of his mattress. The rug felt soft beneath his stockinged feet, and he let out a quiet sigh as he started to walk and a few of his joints audibly popped.
"Thanks, Kreacher," his voice was deep from sleep, and it was made frighteningly close to the sound of Kreacher's.
His feet felt heavy as he descended the staircase, gripping the banister to be sure that he didn't go tumbling down in his exhausted state. He had stopped on the landing only briefly and considered saying hello to Sirius, but he didn't. Not only was he unsure if Sirius was busy or not, but he also just wanted to get downstairs and get dinner over with so that he could go back to sleep.
He knew that he was getting worse - he could feel it. However, he was also at least a bit relieved to realize that he was entering the phase in which he would sleep almost his entire summer away rather than stay up late at night, fighting the thoughts that were telling him to hurt himself and praying to see the sun come up over the horizon which would indicate at least a bit of a change.
For now, it was manageable. At least, he could make it to the dining room without crumpling to the floor and passing out where he stood.
When he entered the dining room, his parents were already sitting down looking rather vexed. His mother shot him a glare, her eyes narrowed and lips pressed firmly in a line.
"Nice of you to join us, Regulus," her voice was flat and, if he weren't still half-asleep, it would have sent a chill down his spine.
"Sorry, mother. I was - I was asleep," his sentence was broken up by a yawn for emphasis.
"You can sleep tonight, Regulus. This is dinner."
"Yes, mother." Regulus took his seat across from his mother and scooped food onto his plate.
Dinner did not last long. Regulus fell asleep five minutes in, stomach empty and head lolled to the side. His mouth was ajar when he was suddenly awoken by the familiar shrieks of his mother which were coming from floors above him.
He jolted awake, snapping his head back upright so quickly that a nerve in the crook of his neck was pinched. He winced a bit at the pain, but he was far too startled and nervous about what was going on upstairs to care much about that.
After all, there was only one person who Walburga Black would yell at that way.
She was standing on the landing outside of Sirius's bedroom door when Regulus arrived. Her face appeared to be physically pained as she stared into the bedroom, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. Her skin was a shade of deep plum that Regulus had never seen before, not even on his mother who was almost always angry.
"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" She shrieked, her eyes darting around the room with horror clear in them. Regulus took his chances and proceeded onto the landing, rubbing his eyes roughly with his fists in an attempt to get rid of the exhausted stinging and his bleary vision.
"What? Don't like the new decor?" Sirius's voice sounded smug, and Regulus knew that he was only asking for things to be made worse.
When he had successfully snuck behind his mother and gained a view of the bedroom, he choked on the laughter that was forcing its way up his throat; he was able to pass it off as a coughing fit that Walburga Black was completely uninterested in. Instead, her eyes continued to dart around the room, her anger building with every second that she spent staring.
Sirius had plastered his walls, covering up every single square inch of the ugly dark wallpaper with photos of him and his friends, posters of motorbikes and diagrams on how they worked, and countless pictures of half-naked muggle women who Walburga Black would see as nothing but disgusting and indecent. Regulus remembered what Sirius had said before his nap, and he knew that nothing on those walls was going to come off any time soon.
"HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THIS HOUSE THE WAY THAT YOU HAVE!" Walburga roared, storming into Sirius's bedroom and grabbing a fistful of Sirius's shirt collar. All of her composure was gone, and Sirius was left being forced to stare into the dark and fiery eyes of his mother. "I HAVE DONE SO MUCH FOR YOU, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US?! YOU BECOME A FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR AND COVER THE WALLS OF THIS HOUSE WITH THIS HORRIFIC FILTH?! I WAS COMING UP HERE TO TELL YOU TO COME DOWN TO DINNER! I WAS WILLING TO GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE, AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO WITH IT?! YOU DEFILE A HOME THAT HAS BELONGED TO THE HOUSE OF BLACK FOR DECADES?!"
Sirius's face had lost all of its humor, and Regulus could see the fear clear behind his eyes. "YOU WILL TAKE ALL OF THIS DOWN AT ONCE AND SCRUB THESE WALLS UNTIL THEY'RE SPOTLESS!"
"I can't," said Sirius, feigning confidence in his act of defiance, "I used a Permanent Sticking Charm."
That was her last straw.
Walburga Black - in her state of utmost fury - threw Sirius to the floor. At first, Regulus didn't know what she was going to do. She wasn't reaching for her wand, she wasn't making any move toward him, nothing. Instead, she turned around and walked right out of the room, past Regulus and down the rickety staircase which creaked beneath her furious steps.
Regulus looked after her with a furrowed brow. Where was she going? Was she just going to give up - to leave Sirius to his own devices?
"Like the decor?" Came Sirius's voice.
Regulus's eyes darted back to his brother. He could feel his exhaustion slowly creeping back with the shock of his mother's yelling gone, and his limbs felt heavy as he took a few steps forward. Though, he preferred the haze of fatigue over the assault of his thoughts, so he didn't complain.
"It's... well, it's certainly something." He looked around, trying to cover up the distaste that he felt for his older brother's room. Everything that was usually dark green and silver had been changed to gold and red, making the room stand out disgustingly against the rest of the dark house, even without the new wall decorations.
"I told you, if they want to put things on your walls with Permanent Sticking Charms, then I would... give them a taste of their own potion." He stood from the ground and brushed off his clothes, looking at his little brother with amusement dancing behind his eyes.
Regulus looked back at his brother, meeting his eyes and blinking slowly. "Why do you have to do shit like this all of the time, Sirius? If you do things to purposefully piss them off, of course bad things are going to happen. Just stop pushing them." Regulus's voice was flat and his tiredness was causing him to talk a bit slower than he might normally have. However, the meaning behind his words was still strong.
Sirius's expression didn't falter. "Because oh, how fun it is! Did you see mother's face?" He looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
Before Regulus could retort with a simple, "Yeah, and I also saw yours," he heard footsteps. They were certainly much quieter than Walburga Black's stomping, but they made the stairs groan all the same.
Regulus spun around and looked at the door frame that he had only just walked through just in time to see the landing blocked by both of his parents. Their figures loomed over the two boys, making them both feel quite small once again.
Orion Black's face was calm, Walburga's back to its usual stone-cold nature, the color having subsided from her cheeks. Regulus felt his blood run cold, his exhaustion leaving again just as quickly as it had when he had been awoken by his mother's shouting.
"Regulus," Orion said, his voice as collected as ever, "go to your room."
Regulus shot a sidelong glance at his brother whose face had suddenly gone very pale. Sirius didn't spare Regulus the same courtesy, but he did give a very short and quick nod that he hoped his parents wouldn't notice.
Regulus took a slow step forward, passing his parents and avoiding their eyes at all costs. After all, he didn't need them getting mad at him for something as simple as a look, did he?
When Regulus had passed his parents and crossed the decrepit landing, he paused. His hand was gripping the frame of his door, his other hanging limply at his side as he glanced behind him at his parents. He could see Orion Black's wand clutched tightly in his fist, and he knew at once what was coming to Sirius. However, he also knew that there was nothing he could do. If he tried to step in, then it would just be made worse for Sirius, and Regulus would end up getting punished as well. Not to mention the fact that Sirius would certainly tell Regulus off for trying to prevent something that both boys knew could not be prevented.
So, Regulus stepped over the threshold into his bedroom and closed the door firmly behind him. He crossed the room and dropped down onto his bed, immediately curling himself back up beneath the covers and shutting his eyes. He felt the relief of his eyes finally being able to do what they had been trying to do since he had been awoken from the dinner table - close.
However, just when sleep had been about to grab hold, Regulus was pulled out of its grasp by the blood-curdling screams of his brother.
Sirius Black's cries of pain echoed throughout the entire house, filling every corner and ingraining itself into the very atoms that made up the hardwood floors. Regulus squeezed his eyes shut and clapped his hands over his ears, tucking his head beneath the duvet and trying desperately to drown out the gut-wrenching sounds that were assaulting his ears.
Yes, Regulus Black was certainly home.