Chapter Text
Hogwarts is a thing of stories, more than anything else. Regulus has grown up hearing story after story—from his parents and their time in Slytherin, to uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella’s time, to the just-beginning stories of cousins Cissy and Bella and Dromeda. All proud Slytherins, all worthy of the title, all brighter and bigger and stronger than Regulus could ever hope to be.
But, really, there’s only one person whose stories Regulus really wants to hear. He admires Sirius, and loves him with reckless abandon. Sometimes, Regulus thinks it’s just them against the world, and it’s certainly them against their parents, if nothing else.
And yet, something is different when Sirius comes back from that first year. Something is different and Regulus doesn’t know what it is. He feels like he’s holding his breath waiting for something.
Things are different, but they’re not that different.
The first night Sirius comes back, he sneaks into Regulus room and they stay up far past midnight, giggling with Chocolate Frogs in hand. Kreacher won’t say anything unless ordered, and so Regulus listens as Sirius tells stories of his friends, of Hogwarts, of a house that’s not green-and-silver but red-and-gold.
“Mother’s not at all happy,” Regulus says in a sleepy whisper, torn between falling asleep and wanting to hear more. “She almost sent you a Howler that first day. Father talked her out of it.”
“She only sent it when I got a detention,” Sirius says sourly. “And she told Bella and Cissy on me. I don’t need any Slytherins up in my face. I get enough of that at home.”
Swallowing, Regulus says, “What if I’m a Slytherin?” He knows that his parents want him to be, knows that he has a whole family history to hold up, knows that Slytherin is the only thing expected of him. To do otherwise would shame the Black family, would shame his parents, but would it shame Sirius?
“Well,” Sirius says slowly, “I suppose that’s okay, but only because you’re my little brother. But, really, there are better houses than Slytherin. You can see the entire grounds from the Gryffindor Tower!”
Awed, Regulus tries to imagine it. He’s heard great things about the lake and the Slytherin Dorms, but he thinks seeing the sky would be a lot cooler. “Is it bright there?” he asks, because Grimauld Place is more shadows and light bulbs than sunlight. Regulus might burn in the sun, but he loves being in it nonetheless.
“The brightest,” Sirius says, and the words sound like a promise. “You’ll have to see it when the term starts.”
Sleepily, Regulus murmurs, “I’d like that.” He has no idea what he’s promising, neither of them do, but it’s the start of a story that just change the world.
The rest of summer passes slowly and quickly. Sirius sends owls to his friends and sometimes lets Regulus read the responses. Regulus isn’t quite sure what to make of Sirius friends, but he supposes they can’t be too bad if Sirius likes them. Still, he’s never heard of a Lupin family before, and mother would have Sirius’ head if she knew that her son was consorting with people below their station.
“So don’t tell her!” Sirius says, pinching at the soft flesh of Regulus’ arm. “She can’t know. Not yet!”
Regulus squirms away. “I wasn’t going to tell her,” he says sulkily, rubbing his arm as he does so. The pain’s already beginning to fade. “But you know Bella and Cissy are going to talk about it.”
The Black family is made of allies and enemies. Secrets and intelligence are traded at the swish of a wand, and everything has worth. It’s the kind of thing that Regulus grew up on, and the kind of thing Sirius has always hated.
Of course, Sirius never responds to Regulus and the summer goes on. Regulus never discusses the fights Sirius has with their mother, nor how the teacups rattle on their shelves and the shadows seem extra dark in places. There are things you don’t talk about in Grimauld Place—how the attic door only locks from the outside, how their father’s office has silencing charms spelled into the wall, how the windows in Sirius’ and Regulus’ rooms are busted from the times they’ve climbed out and up onto the roof.
This is the brotherhood of Sirius and Regulus. The kind of thing that lives without Hogwart Houses dividing them—for now.
September 1st pushes ever closer, and Regulus’ anxiety creeps up his shoulders. Sirius gets angrier, gets quieter, and their mother gets louder and louder.
There’s a line in Grimauld Place and no one has crossed it, but Regulus fears they’re moving closer and closer towards it. But, before anyone crosses it, the first of September comes, and both Sirius and Regulus board the Hogwarts Express.