Chapter Text
Sirius walked over to where Regulus, Barty and Evan were sitting on the floor. In a whisper, he narrated. “The evening star was shining bright, it was time to make a wish and hold on tight. There was magic in the air that night, and anything could happen.” Then, he continued reading the story to the children. “At that very moment, the ugly frog looked up in sorrow. A look of despair crossed his face as he squinted and pleaded: ‘Oh, please, my dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this dreadful curse the witch has cast upon me.’”
Evan leaned closer to Regulus, who was sitting right beside him, and whispered in his ear. “This is my favorite part.” While clutching a stuffed animal tightly in his arms.
The scene unfolding at that moment wasn’t strange at all. Sirius was already seventeen, and his brother was barely seven, just like his friends. So, even if he would never admit it, he enjoyed playing the role of the older brother he was supposed to be. He didn’t mind spending his afternoon with his little brother reading stories and acting them out, in fact, he genuinely loved it.
“The beautiful princess was so moved by the frog’s words that she stood up, picked the sticky, slippery creature in her hands, leaned in, and kissed the little frog.” Sirius continued.
Evan immediately squealed with excitement, Regulus pretended to gag, and Barty seemed to be trying to process what he had just heard.
“Suddenly, the frog turned into a very handsome prince. And because of the great love they felt for one another, they decided to get married and lived happily ever after. The end.” Sirius finished, closing the book and resting it on his lap.
Evan rolled onto his back, shouting with joy. “Yay! Read it again, read it again!”
“Sorry, Evan, but it’s getting late, and Regulus and I should be heading home.” He murmured as he began gathering their things. It had been a long day of games, all of them together at the Rosier’s house, a proper mansion, truth be told. “Reggie, say goodnight.”
Instead, Regulus completely ignored his brother’s suggestion. “No way, there’s absolutely no way I- I could never- how disgusting. I would ever, ever, ever, I mean never, kiss a frog. Yuck!” He yelled, his disgust etched on his face.
“Is that so?” Barty teased him.
Then, for no reason at all, Evan grabbed the stuffed animal, which he had dropped on the floor a few moments earlier, and started rubbing it all over Regulus’ face as a joke. “Here comes your charming prince, Regulus. Come on, kiss him!”
“Ugh, goss!” Regulus screamed trying to push Evan away.
“Yes! Yes!” Evan giggled. “You must kiss him so he can turn back into a human!”
“Stop it! I won’t, I won't, I won't!”
“Come on, Reggie, it’s just a little kiss.” Barty laughed.
“I would do it. I would kiss a frog. I would kiss hundreds of frogs if it meant I could marry a prince and become one myself.” Evan said through giggles, then kissed the stuffed animal.
“If you wanted to become a prince, you would have to marry a princess, not a prince.” Sirius said, cutting into the argument as he pulled Regulus closer to help him into his jacket.
Just then, Evan’s father walked into the room. “Good evening, Sirius!” He greeted cheerfully.
Evan, who had looked rather displeased by Sirius’ comment, immediately lit up at the sight of his father. “Daddy, Daddy, look at my new jacket!” He cried, running up to him. “Isn’t it fancy?”
“Hah, hah, look at you. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the best tailor in New Orleans.” He mouthed, lifting the boy into his arms.
“Dad, I want that one.” Evan said, pointing at the illustration on the cover of the book they had just read. It was a suit in shades of green, like the skin of a frog, but with golden details.
“Oh no, sweetheart, come on, I just bought you a new one.” His father replied.
“Don’t call me sweetheart. I want that one. Please, please, please, please, please, pleeeeeease!” He begged, tugging on his father’s mustache.
“Sirius.” At last, Evan’s father gave in to his son’s wishes. “Do you think you could make something like that?” He looked over to where Sirius was already slipping the book into his bag.
“Anything for my best customer, I guess.” He replied with a smile.
“Yay!” Evan exclaimed happily. “Daddy, can Barty sleep over tonight again?” He asked. The boy often slept there, as they were very close, after all. Their parents were close as well, and Governor Crouch was always busy, so he had no qualms about leaving his son in the care of a family as wealthy as the Rosiers were.
“If Mr. Crouch agrees.”
“I’m sure he will.” Barty muttered, having stood up and walked over to where the conversation was happening. In the back, Regulus fought against Sirius to avoid putting on his coat.
“Then of course he can stay.” And at the sound of his words, both children cheered with excitement.
Mr. Rosier set his son down on the floor, who ran back to running around with his friends.
“Come on, Reggie. Mum and Dad must be home from work by now.” Sirius tried to coax his brother. And after several attempts, he finally managed to convince him to head back home.
***
Sirius and Regulus arrived at their small house in a hidden neighborhood of New Orleans. They didn’t have many neighbors, but the ones they did know were truly good people, people who had shown them what a real family looked like.
It had been strange leaving the 12 of Grimmauld Place so many years ago. A long time ago they had been a different family. Their old home hadn’t exactly been what one would call warm or welcoming.
Regulus had no idea, but the real reason it had taken so many years for him to come into the world was rather complicated. Their parents used to be part of a grand family, a very important one, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. And during Sirius’ first eight years of life, their parents had not been particularly polite to him. They were strict and expected him to uphold the family’s long-standing traditions.
Then, during a typical family dinner, one of the usual fights broke out. Aunt Druella was asking about the lands that Grandfather Pollux had supposedly left them, and Orion and Walburga pretended not to know what she was talking about, as always. But this time, the argument got out of hand, and after a private family meeting, to which they hadn’t even been invited, their grandparents decided to disown them and expel them from the Black family.
Little by little, their parents lost everything and began to grow humble. They left the 12 of Grimmauld Place and moved into the little house they now liked to call home. They had Regulus, and after all the mistreatment they themselves had received, they started to become good parents, but by then, it was too late for Sirius. He hadn’t been able to forget.
As soon as they walked through the door, Regulus ran straight to the kitchen, where their mother was cooking and their father was dancing and singing around her.
Regulus truly loved helping them cook. One day, he dreamed of having his own restaurant. Sometimes, when they went out to eat as a family, he would end up rambling about how he would change the place if it were his.
Sirius, on the other hand, wanted to be a tailor, he worked with clothing. And perhaps it was due to their past, but his parents hadn’t shown nearly the same enthusiasm for his dream as they did for Regulus’ restaurant.
He went upstairs to start working on Mr. Rosier’s new order when he heard his brother asking their mother what she was making.
“I’m making gumbo, darling. It’s almost ready.” Walburga said, running her hands through her son’s hair. “I should give you a haircut, don’t you think? Right now you look so much like your brother.”
Regulus pulled his mother’s hand away from his hair and looked at the pot in front of her. “I like it just the way it is.” He ran to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed his little step stool, a wooden piece of furniture his father had built so he could reach the countertops until he got taller. He dragged it over beside his mother and peeked into the brown liquid. “Can I?” He asked, staring directly at the wooden spoon in his mother’s hands.
“Of course, chef.” She said as she handed him the spoon.
Regulus dipped the ladle into the pot and scooped up some of the stew. He brought it to his lips and blew gently, then carefully sipped a little to taste.
“I think it’s ready, mommy.” Little Regulus told her.
“Yeah? Are you sure?” She asked.
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, smiling at her.
“Absolutely positive?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, geez!”
She took the spoon from his hands and slowly brought it closer to her mouth. “Alright, I’m about to taste this-”
“Wait!” He snatched the spoon back, stared intently at the pot, then at all the ingredients scattered across the counter. His eyes landed on a glass jar filled with a red liquid. He reached for it, picked it up, and poured a good amount into the gumbo. After stirring it, he handed the spoon back to his mother. “Now it’s ready.” She tasted it, and as she savored it, a strange expression crossed her face. “What?” He asked, horrified.
“Well, honey…” She paused dramatically. “This is… the best gumbo I’ve ever tasted! Come here!” She pulled him into a hug. “Orion, our little one’s got a gift.”
“Told you, dear. It runs in the family.” His father said.
“Come on. Let’s plate it before it gets cold.” His mother smiled as she opened a cupboard to pull out some soup bowls. “Orion, go tell Sirius dinner’s ready.”
***
That same night, while Warburga and Orion were tucking Regulus into bed, wrapping him carefully in a soft blanket and stroking his head, his mother whispered to him. “Do you know what’s special about good food? It brings people together from all over the world. When you open your restaurant, I’m telling you, people will stand in line for hours just to taste your cooking.”
“Our food!” He replied with a smile.
“Of course, darling.” She stroked his forehead while his father stood up from where he had been sitting at the foot of the bed.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Regulus saw a bright light shining through the window, a shooting star. He jumped out of bed quickly and ran toward it. “Mommy, look!”
“Where are you going?” She asked.
“Evan’s story said that if you make a wish on a shooting star, it will come true.” His small voice sounded excited.
Orion paused mid-step and turned back, watching his son poke his little head out the window. “You know, son? You’re named after a star. You don’t need some silly wish or a fairytale, because you are the brightest star in our sky.” He smiled, making Regulus turn his head to look at his father with attention.
“Come on, honey. Back to bed.” His mother murmured gently.
And he did, he went back to his bed and let them tuck him in again. But the moment they left his room, it didn’t take him long to slip out from under the covers once more and run straight back to the window.
With the idea of moments like that in his heart, of one day having his own restaurant, of being able to share his love and his cooking with the world, he closed his eyes, lifted his chin and pressed his palms together. “Please, please, please.” He whispered.
When he opened his eyes again, he found sitting right there on his windowsill, none other than a frog. He yelped in fright and bolted from the room, screaming as he ran straight to his parents’ bedroom.