Chapter Text
Muggle things —most of the Black family, thought of Muggle things as a bane upon the magic community. After all, they were the reason their eldest absconded and deserted the family, liking as Sirius did the roar of a motorcycle and the scantly clad figure of some Muggle girls he loved plastering on the walls of his room prior to running away. And there were other things that the Black family would snub their nose at.
There were particular delights, such as a train that safely delivered children to Hogwarts for the school year, ensuring none of them became lost. For the most part, musical scores from great composures, things the Black family did not scorn, yet what they did or didn ’t scorn remained a hushed tone, such as the family head and his love of Muggle medical texts, which were in line with his.
It was Arcturus who gave Orion one Christmas a copy of A Christmas Carol , which currently sat on the desk in his study, just as it had become a tradition to read every year. He ’d not said mum to Sirius, never wanting his eldest to have an excuse to use regarding why he should be allowed to illegally enchant motorcycles while also ogling the fairer sex, which was not even remotely the same.
Firelight flickered as he sat there, waiting for his youngest to return home while knowing in the back of his mind his eldest was likely never to do so. He took a deep breath, looking at the fireplace. Christmas—
“It’s not been the same, has it,” Orion muttered, slowly drifting asleep, thinking about how this would now be the third Christmas as a broken family, his mind suddenly wondering what the Ghost of Christmas Past would have to say.
“Oh, that’s a good question.”
Orion turned his head at the glowing, waxy figure that slowly took some sort of shape. “Shouldn’t I be visited first by some old acquaintance who has since past warning me of your visit?”
“Well, you’re not Scrooge,” the figure said, still taking form as if trying to pick from something familiar until it lighted upon—
“Why, my youngest?”
“Well, he is quite the bright little candle, isn’t he?” the spirit said. “It is a bit short, given the time frame, but this is how I am, shapeless and yet with form.”
“A shaped candle, though with the ability to speak?” Orion said. “Not quite what I imagined, although it does fit the description.”
“Plus,” the spirit said, pretty much ignoring his comment. “You’re already ready to visit your past, see Christmas past, and figure out what you could learn from them.” The spirit held their hand while the flame flickered on top of their head. “So pardon me for looking like a candle shaped like a person, and take my hand.”
And without hesitation, he took it, and he found himself falling or perhaps flying. They arrived at Grimmauld place and watched Walburga enter, bidding her guests to enter.
“When was this?” Orion asked, sucking in his breath as Sirius came hurtling in, eyes glued on the brightly colored presents under the tree only for Walburga—her eyes always watchful—to reach out and grab the back of their eldest’s clothing, holding him back from tearing into the presents. Then he saw a younger version of himself come in, carrying a small child who clung to him, eyes ever wide.
“Now, what is the significance of this Christmas?” the spirit, having taken on a slightly older Regulus, asked.
“Shouldn’t you know?” Orion asked of the spirit.
“Yes, well,” they turned back, watching.
Orion sat down on the floor as Lucretia handed out the presents to everyone, her eyes twinkling. Slowly, he set Regulus down beside him, the small child sitting up yet wobbling despite now being six and a half. His attention was nowhere in particular, while Sirius was glued to the bright trappings placed just out of his reach.
And then, the children took turns unwrapping, with Narcissa squealing with delight over a dress and Sirius tearing the paper from an outfit Walburga insisted on getting him.
Regulus sat, doing nothing but sit next to Orion, wobbling slightly. Cygnus looked up from where he sat with his girls. “Wait? Isn’t Regulus going to open one? Try handing him one directly, Orion.”
Orion—the younger version of himself reached for a package and placed it in Regulus ’ lap, only for nothing to happen. Or at least, nothing from Regulus as Sirius managed to tear into a box out of term with Walburga taking it away only for Sirius to turn to tear up the paper to shreds, which interested him far more than whatever was in the package.
“He’s slow, isn’t he?” Bellatrix snickered.
“It’s not funny,” Andromeda glared at her older sister.
“But he is,” Bellatrix. “He’s already a year and a half, yet he sits, doing nothing. He doesn’t even make eye contact. Sirius was far more entertaining. Still is the destructive little brat.”
“Bellatrix!” her mother scolded.
And then, Narcissa stood up, carrying her pile of packages over, and sat down on the other side of Regulus. “Here. Let me help you.”
She gently pulled the paper away. “Oh, look! It’s a small stuffed bear, Regulus.”
To which Regulus didn ’t respond. The spirit tilted its head. “That’s rather sad. Didn’t Bellatrix say something about Sirius being more into the holiday thing than Regulus was?”
“Regulus,” Orion said. “He was just always different.”
“Certainly was, from the looks of it,” the spirit said.
Orion turned at the sound of a piano playing, his eyes widening at Regulus sitting at the piano long before anyone had arrived. He ’d somehow managed to get up there on his own and was attempting to play one of the Christmas songs he’d heard his Aunt Lucretia play. He was older now and slightly more communicative; the only thing holding him back was the distance of his fingers.
On the other hand, Sirius was already pulling presents from under the tree when Walburga came in. “Sirius Orion Black, what are…” She turned, staring at Regulus as he continued plucking at the keys, following his older brother in.
“Wasn’t it under the promise of fun, and Cygnus warned her that they were up to something?”
“Not Cygnus. Her other brother,” Orion said. “I do miss him.”
“Was he the one you expected to forewarn of my coming?”
“I’m not sure who else to have expected?” Orion said as Cygnus and his girls came in, curious as to the sound of the piano.
“Oh, look at little Regulus,” Narcissa said, going over to sit on the bench next to her cousin.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes as Walburga scooped a flailing Sirius from the ground. “Not yet! I told you you’re not allowed in the parlor until after dinner.”
“Could Regulus and Sirius open a present now?” Narcissa asked. “I’m not asking to open one myself, but I’d love to see Regulus open a present.”
“Why?” Regulus asked, eyes wide.
“Don’t you want to open presents, Regulus?” Narcissa said. “Sirius certainly does.”
Regulus tilted his head in response and went back to playing the piano or attempting to do so as some of his tiny fingers couldn ’t quite reach. He tilted his head.
“Fine. Sirius, you may open one present if your brother does as well,” Walburga said.
Sirius stared, waiting.
“Well, since Regulus….”
“Maybe Sirius could pick one out for Regulus,” Orion said, to which Sirius hurried back to messing up Walburga’s carefully constructed pile of presents under the tree, finding one for Regulus and hauling it over, setting it onto the bench.
“Here.” And then, somewhat impatiently, he said. “Hurry!”
Regulus stopped, looking at it confused. Then Narcissa placed it in his lap. “You open it.”
“Open it?”
“Let me help you a bit.”
“Narcissa,” Walburga said, not liking her plans to be ruined.
But then, when Narcissa showed Regulus the tear, the boy carefully started opening it, taking care not to tear the packaging while gently setting it aside. He then said. “A book.”
“Your first book, right?” Narcissa said.
“My first book.” There was a look of confusion as he looked at Narcissa. “Thank you?”
“Oh. I’m not the one who got you the book. I hadn’t realized you’d enjoy getting one so much.”
“Then who.”
“It’s on the tag.”
“Orion,” Regulus said. “Who?”
“That’s your daddy,” Narcissa said.
Regulus blinked, slipping from the bench as Sirius unwrapped his, glaring at the clothes he ’d managed to grab. Regulus came over, hugging his book, eyes wide, and then he said. “Thank you, daddy.”
“You’re welcome.”
“He didn’t want to open anything else after that.”
“No, he didn’t,” Orion said. “Much to Walburga’s dismay. All he wanted to do was sit and read his book. Didn’t even want to eat dinner until she took it away for a bit.”
“He got into the Christmas spirit after that, didn’t he?”
“Christmas. It was always the one time of year my boys got along, that we felt like a family,” Orion said, turning.
“Regulus, come open your presents,” Walburga said, her packages stacked next to her. It was just her, Regulus, and Orion as—
Orion watched his youngest sit by the window, staring out, looking for the one present that wouldn ’t come that year or the next, nor would it come this year.
“He didn’t touch any of his presents that year or the last one.”
“All Regulus wanted for Christmas was for his older brother to come home.”
“And they’re all packed into a box, aren’t they?”
“Sort of. If it wasn’t a food item, it went back under the tree the next year as Regulus hadn’t grown much, if any. And she’ll likely do the same this year.”
“Then maybe that’s the answer?” the spirit asked, still looking like Regulus but now older. “I’m sure I’d like my brother home.”
“Yes, well,” Orion said. “I’m not sure that’s possible, suddenly feeling a bit put off by the fact he’d wished for the spirit’ help, for the one that showed up showed him what a difficult path was.
“You should try, though, right?”
“Right.”