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Regulus startled a bit when Sirius spoke up, turning around to look at him. Clearly, Barty and Evan took it as their cue to get the hell out of dodge, because they discretely gathered their things and left the table, not wanting to be seen around Reg’s brother. Especially now that he’d officially been disowned. The younger Black brother was frowning, a little annoyed about the interruption, and at the way Sirius was speaking. As if it was somehow Regulus’ fault that he’d run off and hadn’t spoken to him. “Clearly not, if you think I’m still twelve.” He told him, his tone cold. “I’m fourteen, thanks for remembering... And there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He huffed, turning back to his book. “That’s not my fault.”

Mark of Death

Sirius, in the meanwhile, was having a dilemma. Had their relationship as siblings not been so strained or dubitable in its prolonged existence, he would have been over there in a hot second. Now that things were awkward to say the least, he had no plan of action. Then again, when did that ever stop him from doing anything?

In a split second decision, he began making his way over, muttering something like, “I’ll just be a second,” to James, who had just pried his attention away from whatever it was he had been occupied with, noticed what the trouble was, and blanched in concern. His verbalized qualms were met with an ironic smile and a shrug, and then Sirius turned around, resolutely on his path of defiance — (defiance to logic or to self preservation, it was difficult to discern which.)

He slid over to a bookshelf adjacent to where Regulus was sitting, pretending to browse the selection of books. After a bit, he cleared his throat. “Nice tattoo. I’ve never thought of you as the type to get inked— considering you’re twelve, and all, but I wouldn’t know much about you at all nowadays, would I?”

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Regulus was bashful as his friends jostled and nudged him, whispering excitedly amongst themselves about how exciting it was. He didn’t look pleased, or upset either... He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about it. He offered them a small smile, shrugging a little. “It hurt like hell.” He admitted. Just then, his eyes trailed up, looking around. Briefly, his eyes landed on a familiar face, made eye contact for the shortest of seconds. Sirius. Regulus felt his breath catch in his throat and he immediately looked away, pushing his sleeve down quickly and folding his arms, ignoring the whines of Barty and Evan. “Shh, it’s the middle of the library. Do you want to get in trouble? The teachers would skin me.” He opened his school books again, trying to focus in on what he was writing. It was for Slughorn’s class, so he’d likely get a good grade anyway, being in the Slug Club and all, but he didn’t like getting behind on homework. He was just silently hoping that his brother hadn’t seen, or if he had that he would keep to himself.

Mark of Death

Life at the Potters’ was nothing short of a daydream. Rooming with James, with whom Sirius had been attached at the hip since their first year; Mr. and Mrs. Potter, both of whom had in the few weeks surrounding Christmas become as fond to Sirius as a real mother and father might have; the absence of the need to prove himself– he was almost afraid it was too good to be true.

There was some negativity that remained as luggage, of course. Aside from the obvious, Sirius had at first attempted to uphold his promise of keeping contact with his younger brother, making sure to write every couple of days, sometimes talking about Mr. Potter’s mannerisms or the monstrosity that was James’ morning hair put in the spotlight now that it was just the two of them sharing a room. Once it was evident, however, that he wasn’t going to get a reply, he had stopped for fear of beating the proverbial dead horse in case Regulus had actually become angry with him for leaving.

It was becoming increasingly evident to the general public now that they had returned to school that James and Sirius had become nigh inseparable, and that if they were a dynamic duo before, they were now a single dynamo able to read each other like picture books.

Said “hive mind" found itself in the library, not particularly looking for trouble (thank Merlin,) but inevitably running into it, anyway. Sirius involuntarily ducked when he spotted his younger brother’s dark mop of hair a few tables away, but hadn’t turned in time to miss the peeling back of his sleeve and the Dark Mark swirling like the contents of his stomach were at the moment. He found himself subconsciously gawking at the smaller boy in concern, eyebrows creased and lips turned down.

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Mark of Death

It had been months since Regulus had last spoken to his brother. Sirius had left at the beginning of the summer, and Reg hadn’t heard from him since. There hadn’t been any letters like he’d promised. Not one, for the entire summer, and when they got back to school, they hadn’t spoken. Not that they often had the chance, with barriers of friends and family between them, but Regulus had thought that maybe at least Sirius would say something to him. By the time he’d returned, though, Regulus was different. For starters, his skin was thicker. He looked older too, eyes less wide, expression more stern. He held himself more proudly, and spoke less childishly. He’d turned fourteen in August and he’d spent his summer surrounded by the death eaters he so aspired to join. He’d met the Dark Lord himself, powerful in presence as he was in name, and he’d made his loyalty known, official. It had been terrifying, and the tattoo had hurt, but the Dark Lord had promised him glory, respect. He’d been promised that he would help to change their world forever, to usher in a new and better era. It had been an irresistible challenge, and the promise of a family for a boy so alone had been powerful.

So Regulus returned to school changed, and he did not seek out his brother’s company, squashed down the parts of him that wished to. Sirius had made his choice. He’d chosen a blood traitor and a werewolf over his own family, and he’d not even bothered to try and ease the loss by writing. Clearly his loyalties lay elsewhere, and it wasn’t up to Regulus to correct that anymore.

He’d just been sitting in the library, at a table with Barty, when finally somebody asked him about the mark. “I heard you’ve got it.” Evan Rosier said. “One of the youngest yet. You’ve got to show us, Regulus.” He’d raised an eyebrow, murmured something about minding his own business, but then Barty had joined in, nudging him. “C’mon, Regulus. Just a peek? How else are we supposed to know you’re not making things up?” He asked. Eventually, the boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but he held his arm out and pulled his sleeve up gently, showing the mark on his forearm, writhing and black. “There, happy?”

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“Wait!” He called when Sirius headed for the door. He ran down the steps quickly, and surged forward to wrap his arms around Sirius’ middle, hugging him close. “Be safe, okay? Be careful.” He told him quietly. He knew he’d never convince him to stay, or convince him to change his mind. It was too late. “Please be safe.”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

He half smiled, letting out a sigh that could have been taken as a chuckle. “Worth a shot.” He turned away then, grabbing the handle of the suitcase with a hand and waving without turning around. “See you, Reg,” he called, making his way for the door. “Be good when it’s necessary.” Perhaps he could go a little bit down the road, hail the Knight Bus, and take it down to Godric’s Hollow. That seemed like a pretty solid plan.

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Regulus hesitated. “Sirius...” He said softly. He wasn’t old enough to leave home. He was scared what would happen if he did. He would have to leave Kreacher behind, and his things. If Sirius went with one of his friends... would they even let him bring Regulus? “I can’t.” He told him. “I.... You know I can’t.” He had to know that it wasn’t an option. Regulus wasn’t old enough, wasn’t strong-willed enough. He was too frightened.

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

“I said come with me,” he restated simply, half turning to his brother. Sirius didn’t know why he said it– it was selfish of him, although not uncharacteristically so. He did know that his parents would probably kill him legitimately had he brought their favorite and now only son away with him. As futile as it was, it was a hope all the same. He lifted his eyes a little warily to meet his brother’s, the request abnormally sincere for someone like him.

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Regulus nodded. "Sometimes people sag things just to make you feel better and don't do them, though." He pointed out. He worried about that, a lot. "Barty said people will do a lot of things to keep people from being upset with them." He followed his brother down the stairs quietly. He almost could have missed the request for what it was, since Sirius was looking anywhere but at him. "What?" He asksd.

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

Regulus went to sit on the edge of his bed, looking around. His eyes were pricking with tears, but he bit his lip. He was tired of being the crybaby in the family. “They’re not going to let me talk to you.” He told him. It was true. Knowing their family, by the time he got back to school, everybody would know that Sirius had been disowned, and he wouldn’t be let out of there sight. “You will write, won’t you? We’re still brothers.” He asked

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Regulus went to sit on the edge of his bed, looking around. His eyes were pricking with tears, but he bit his lip. He was tired of being the crybaby in the family. “They’re not going to let me talk to you.” He told him. It was true. Knowing their family, by the time he got back to school, everybody would know that Sirius had been disowned, and he wouldn’t be let out of there sight. “You will write, won’t you? We’re still brothers.” He asked

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

The weak attempt at an extension charm worked after all, and the trunk shut with a satisfying thump. He looked at his disaster of a room and felt a surge of nostalgia for the room itself. It was a shame it wouldn’t ever be reused as a guest room, what with the decor having been permanently stuck on the walls, although he supposed now he wouldn’t ever be forgotten.

“I don’t know where I’m gonna go,” he said bluntly. “Just away from here.” He did, of course, have the Potters in mind, but they’d dealt with more than enough from him, and he didn’t know whether or not he could bring himself to ask them if he could stay with them indefinitely. Perhaps only for a few days, to get himself oriented and back on his feet again.

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Regulus watched him, wanting desperately to make him stop, to unpack the bag and make him stay. He knew that was selfish. Sirius wasn’t happy at home, but then, neither of them were. They hadn’t been in a very long time. “That’s it, then?”  He asked, watching him. He didn’t know what he would do. He knew his parents wouldn’t want him to see his brother after this. If Sirius promised to write, that would be fine, but he worried that maybe he wouldn’t. “Where are you going to go?”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

He let out a bitter, breathy laugh. “No,” he said, turning back to his luggage, continuing to stuff in articles of clothing unfolded. “I’m not apologizing to them for anything, and I won’t beg to stay.” He omitted the fact that he was the one to suggest leaving. He didn’t want to crush the younger boy.

“Don’t talk to them about it, Reg,” he stated firmly. “I don’t want any negotiations on my behalf.” He grabbed a thick novel of illustrations from off a shelf– a Christmas present from the Potters from his third year– and set it down on top of the pile of clothes, pressing down until the whole stack was as flat as it could have gotten. “I’ll write. To you, at least.”

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He felt like his heart stopped for a second. Sirius was being disowned. A part of him had always known this was a possibility. But for it to actually happen felt like a punch in the gut, and he didn’t know what to say. “I... Maybe you don’t have to.” He suggested, stepping into the room. “Let me talk to her. Maybe I can get them to change their minds.” He offered. “If you just say you’re sorry, Sirirus.... Maybe they’ll change their minds.”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

He tensed upon hearing his brother and the shield of static clouding his head shattered. Sirius swallowed heavily. “I’m just–”

Just what? He didn’t want to have to break it to Regulus of all people that he had probably just been disowned, that he had to leave them now, that he would never come back to this place again. But it looked as if he had no choice in it, and the boy deserved to know. “Mum says I’ve got to go,” he says finally, looking up at his brother a little guiltily. “So I’m gonna go.”

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Upstairs, Regulus had been hiding in his bedroom, talking quietly to Kreacher in an effort to drown out the shouting from downstairs. As soon as he heard his brother come up the stairs, though, he ventured out into the hallway, hovering by the door as he watched Sirius pack. After a moment of watching, he spoke up. “Sirius.” He said softly. “You’re not.... Where are you going?” He asked, timid. “Why are you packing?”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

He recoiled, his chest feeling suddenly empty, his stomach having gone to his throat. His knuckles, at this point, were white, fingers numb around the edge of the table. Part of him was willing to take anything back if it meant being taken back, but he regained his senses in a moment. He looked up to his father, whom he found to be unresponsive, leading him to the realization that this really was the end of the line.

“I’ll be better off in the streets than anywhere with you,” he declared quietly, with an air of finality. That being said, he left the table with clenched fists and ran without thinking up to his room, beginning to throw things about wildly. Drawers were removed, shelves dismantled, sheets thrown about in an effort to find necessities and to be rid of all else in his way.

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“The first good news I’ve had all day.” Walburga said, laughing a little. “Do you really think that we would want the children of a disgrace like you to sully our family line?” She shouted at him. “I’d die before I saw you run our family tradition into the ground.” There was a moment of silence, Orion looking to his wife, not meeting his son’s eye, before she spoke again. “If you think that you can survive with the way things are going. If you think you can survive as a blood traitor with no family, then you can leave my house!”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

“Oh, but I’ve forgotten, I’m only a continuation of the family line to you,” Sirius yelled back, voice beginning to thicken dreadfully. “Of course! That’s the only reason you’ve provided for my basic needs, provided for my survival, obviously.”

His volume rose phenomenally when his brother made a run for it. He expected this sort of treatment from his parents. Regulus, on the other hand, had been trying his hardest and paying for all his efforts. 

“Well here’s some good news: it’s hopeless! I will never sire any children and I will never  have a hand in the preservation of this god forsaken family. It would disgust me wholly to do anything of the sort. So go ahead and stop pampering me, because everyone knows you want to and I never asked to be provided for anyway.” Of all the times to be an angry crier, right now was the very worst.

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“Sometimes there’s no  amount of parenting that can be done to fix a rotten child.” Their mother hissed at him. Orion went on. “You apologize for being an ungrateful brat, boy! We keep you under our roof, keep you clothed and fed, and for what? Why should we continue to pamper you if all you’ll do with it is bring us shame?” Mummy turned her nose up a little. “If only you were a good, grateful boy, like your brother. You would be destined for something other than the gutter.” Regulus looked rather pale at this comment, and found his voice in the moment’s pause. “Mummy, I don’t think-” He started, but was quickly cut off.

“Be quiet, Regulus!” Orion barked, bringing his fist, and the steak knife in it, down on the dark wood table. There was a clatter and the scraping of a chair as Regulus jumped up and darted away from the kitchen table and up the stairs, followed by the soft tread of Kreacher the house elf slinking away after him.

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

“Apologize for what, asserting my opinion?” His volume rose to match that of his father’s, as tense as anything. “Because mother’s been doing the same, and with much more gusto, might I add, since I walked into this room.” It seemed as though his father was looming right over him, even if there was a dinner table between them.

He stood up himself, chair grating against the wooden floor. “And I’m all the evidence I need. You think you’re so good at raising children? Take a good look at your first attempt.” It was much more difficult talking to back to his father, but he stubbornly held his ground, spreading his arms out to emphasize his point.

“What sort of a child do you think you’ve raised who might be so easily influenced? How could I possibly turn out like this under your iron reign? There’s no connection there. There must have been some point during which you were irresponsible and inadequate as guardians.” He paused, eyebrows raised, throat tight.

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The last comment caused the tension that had been mounting to snap like a twig, because suddenly Orion was out of his seat, the table scooting a little as his hands collided with its surface. “How dare you speak to your mother that way?!” He boomed, his younger son flinching  back in his seat, dropping his fork onto his plate with clatter. Regulus looked between all three of them, wide-eyed, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something but was afraid to. He couldn’t get a word in edgewise anyway, what with Mummy shrieking vitriol and his father shouting now. “You apologize to her right now, Sirius.” He demanded.

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

He looked at her, lips upturned at an angle of incredulity. “I promise you, if you had raised me or influenced me at all with your interpretation of respect, I would be ten times as indignant and not at all charming.” He inspected his nails, feigning indifference. “And that would have been a tragedy,” he muttered. 

Sirius peeked peripherally over at his father in case he should be prepared for an even larger storm. In all honesty, his parents rather terrified him. Talking back the way he did, even if it sounded natural, was draining him as it was. He swallowed down a tremor in his voice and continued. “Should I be grateful you’re completely untalented in raising children? I suppose. That’s still up for interpretation.”

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 sxthis:

“Well, mother, I don’t think it would cost you too much to send the headmaster an owl, if you have such difficulty trusting me,” he stated frankly, beginning to gesticulate. “Which, by the way, is completely unprecedented.” Pressing a hand to his chest, he feigned injury. “I’ve been nothing but an angel, and at this point, a martyr.”

He glanced briefly over to his brother, feeling an onslaught of guilt for having brought him into the conversation, but then again that wasn’t any more of his fault than it was his mother’s. “I won’t doubt Regulus’s virtue, but he hasn’t ever been so unjustly persecuted. First insulting my taste in interior decoration, and now accusing me of lying? To my own flesh and blood? I understand that I may look invulnerable, but even I have limits.“

“Well, you didn’t have so much trouble with sending your own flesh and blood to the hospital, so why would you have any qualms trying to poison his mind as well?” She demanded. Orion was sitting stock still, not quite ready to join his wife in berrating his son, or rather, trusting that at this point he didn’t need too, while  Regulus was staring resolutely down at his plate in an attempt to act as though he hadn’t heard or seen either of them.

“I don’t know what’s happened to you, Sirius! The boy I raised would never have been so easily led astray by blood traitors the likes of Dumbledore, or the Potter family!” She was raising her voice, although it wasn’t uncommon. Walburga Black was a vengeful woman, always ready for a screaming match. “I’m tired of you traipsing about as if nobody ever taught you about honor or respect!”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

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Regulus kept his head down, as usual. He’d never exactly been the most talkative boy at home, but now with things so tense in the household, he was almost entirely mute. It didn’t help that he could hardly talk to Sirius alone anymore, either. His brother had tried before, but eventually gave up. Things hadn’t been the same since the fight with Bella. And now of course, the usual arguments were cropping up again. Mummy had been prattling away while the rest of them ate in silence, until Sirius had decided to argue with her. Regulus tried to keep his attention on pushing his food around his plate, but he was getting tense as Mummy retaliated, her voice rising, just as shrill as ever. “Just because you think some mudblood is clever, doesn’t make her smart or even a witch at all.” Walburga sneered at her eldest son over the dinner table. “It’s bad enough you believe all these lies your troublemaking friends tell you, but I won’t let you bring them into my home, to my table, and try and feed them to your brother. He’s a good boy, and I won’t have you teaching him nonsense.”

The Departure || Regulus & Sirius

The dinner table emanated, as it always had, an aura of belligerence, although familial belligerence, while maintaining the necessary wrath and violence, tended to associate many times the usual amount of backhandedness. That being said, it wasn’t as if Sirius enjoyed these dinners, or had a choice in attending, for that matter. Said family had been making it clear for a few years now that he was becoming increasingly less welcome, but he supposed formalities were formalities, and some remained obligatory through even the worst offenses: attacking your younger brother and permanently tacking muggle things onto the wall, to name a few.

He lifted his gaze from his plate and across the table, retaining a firm scowl. Orion seemed nonchalant as ever, not being the type to cause a disruption or act in any way indecent, although everyone knew he was more than capable of blowing the house down if it had come to that.

He hadn’t had the time to look over to his mother before he could hear her remarks. He loudly sighed, gritting his teeth as one was prone to do around Walburga. “Actually, I don’t think muggleborn wizards are quite so rotten considering the girl who might perhaps be the brightest witch of our generation has a pair of muggle parents, but how should I know?”

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Anxiety (Open)

Do you ever get this feeling, like…. Like a weight on your chest? Sometimes I just sort of feel like everything’s about to go wrong even if it isn’t. I don’t like it at all.

[little-prince-arcturus-blog]

Anxiety (Open)

Do you ever get this feeling, like.... Like a weight on your chest? Sometimes I just sort of feel like everything’s about to go wrong even if it isn’t. I don’t like it at all.