Chapter Text
Amongst the Shooting Stars — Chapter 1
"First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they attack you and want to burn you, and then they build monuments to you." — Nicholas Klein
Sirius is shouting, yelling, roaring till his voice gets hoarse. “STOP! NO! NOT HIM!” But, nothing he says ever makes any difference to them. His hands and legs are tied back by that body-bind curse, useless. And, his worst fear is coming true right in front of his eyes.
Regulus’s screams ring throughout the mansion, but it’s not really their volume that makes Sirius flinch; it’s the desperation, the agony, the pain in them.
He growls Regulus’ name, but his baby brother shows no sign of having heard him. Regulus continues to writhe, his screams hitting Sirius like it’s him under the Crucaitus Curse rather than his brother. Despite being 14, Sirius knows how it is to have the Cruciatus cast on you, and it’s much worse than how much he could express in words.
“LET GO OF HIM! TORTURE ME AGAIN, BUT NOT HIM!” He thunders once more, as Regulus continues to writhe worse than ever. And then, with one last, shuddering, choked and agonizing breath, his brother’s body goes limp.
Sirius awakens with a jolt, a gasp and a start. He blinks until his vision clears, finding himself in his dark bedroom, settled in bed. He brushes cold sweat from his forehead, his breathing uneasy. The dream has been haunting him for days now; ever since he came back to Grimmauld Place for the summer holidays.
Unable to be rendered blissfully oblivious by sleep again, he decides to disturb James from his sleep, which he is undoubtedly enjoying right now. He had asked James to tuck their mirror beside his pillow when he sleeps, in case Sirius needs something in the middle of the night ("You can never trust my parents"). It’s probably time to see if Prongs obeyed.
“Prongs!” Sirius whisper-yells into the mirror after tapping it with his wand, “Prongs, get your sleepy head over here!”
After a few moments, the befuddled face of James Potter appears in the mirror. Bleary-eyed, without glasses, and hair even messier than usual. “What?” he asks simply, voice hoarse.
“Nothing,” Replies Sirius, “I just couldn’t sleep.”
This earns him a dazed groan from James, “Pads, you can’t just wake people up when you can’t sleep!”
Sirius smiles, and the muscles in his jaw feel stiff, as if he hasn’t grinned in a while. “It’s your job to support me, Prongs!” Sirius protests, and James yawns, causing him to continue, “And maybe I wanted to tell you that I’ve been having a nightmare for days. It’s about Regu—”
“Nightmares can wait, can’t they?” James cuts across, finally putting on his glasses and looking at Sirius properly, “You’re sweating, Padfoot.” He adds, his tone changing drastically from annoyed to concerned.
“Just some of the cold sweat which broke through, during the nightmare,” Sirius says, tapping his fingers on the frame of his mirror impatiently.
“Oh, then I must hear it. It sounds pretty serious,” James says, raising his eyebrows. “Because it isn’t like Sirius.”
Sirius grins again at the pun, and confides the recurring dream to James. Regulus, the Cruciatus Curse, his parents and the helplessness Sirius felt. “…and after he faints, I wake up. Every time.” He recounts, concluding his account.
“Merlin, Pads!” James exclaims, “And, you’re telling me this now? Try taking Dreamless Sleep. Will help you sleep without dreams.”
“Are you insane?” Sirius frowns, whisper-yelling again. “Do you think my parents keep a stash of sleeping potions stored away in this house? Or when Kreacher comes to wake me up in the morning, and I don’t wake up at once, my Mother-dearest isn’t gonna do anything?”
James hesitates for a moment, as if considering a retort, before finally sighing, “Yeah, that.” He runs a hand through his extraordinarily messy hair, apparently trying to distort is even more. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing,” shrugs Sirius, “I just wanted to tell you about my dream. Needed someone to talk to, y’know? And, with Reggie practically locking himself in his room nowadays…”
James simply looks at Sirius for a long moment, before trying (and failing) to stifle a genuine yawn. “So, good night?”
“Good night,” Sirius replies, trying to bury away his disappointment in letting go of his bestie, and being trapped in the rooms of Grimmauld Place again, despite knowing that he can contact James tomorrow.
With a flick of James’s wand, his face disappears from the mirror, and Sirius sets it down beside his pillow with a sigh. He lays face-up on his bed, which is still more uncomfortable to him than his four-poster in Hogwarts, despite having the finest mattress, a bed-sheet of velvet and a blanket of silk. Sleep drags him away once more, but this time, without any nightmare.
If there is one thing Sirius Black hates about his brother Regulus more than his habit of zoning out mid-conversation, it’s his refusal to talk.
“I don’t see your problem,” Says Sirius, as him and Regulus gaze at the stars on the roof of Grimmauld Place without the knowledge of their parents. “Why in the world don’t you get out of that bloody room, until I practically break my hands knocking on your door?”
Regulus continues to gaze up in the sky, infuriatingly indifferent. The only sign he shows of having heard Sirius is narrowing his eyes. And then, after several minutes, Regulus finally looks at Sirius, his face vacant of emotion. “It's my room, Siri. And, whether I want to come out of it or not is my wish.”
Sirius looks at Regulus with an expression that he hopes shows more anger than concern, trying his best to appear irritated. “Stop acting like I kicked your kneazle or something,” He says, now getting actually irritated that Regulus is gazing up the sky again, “And, will you look at me?”
Regulus looks back at Sirius again, his expression exasperated. “Please Sirius,” He says, his voice the faintest hint of tired, “There’s nothing wrong. And, you’re just overreacting for nothi—”
“Overreacting?” Sirius thunders at him, trying to not be overheard and not needing to school his expression into anger anymore, “Reg, I literally found you out of your room and in the corridors yesterday night. And, when I ask you about it, you don’t remember anything like that happening! How the hell is being concerned about that overreacting?”
"I might have been sleepwalking," Retorts Regulus, though his expression looks like he is unsure of this statement himself. "You used to sleepwalk when you were younger too, didn't you?"
"But, why would you turn around when you hear my footsteps if you were sleepwalking?" Sirius asks, gritting his teeth to keep his voice from getting any louder, careful not to inform his parents of them being awake.
Regulus sighs again, evidently trying to mask his own befuddlement under exasperation. But, Sirius knows that something is wrong, and he won't let this go. Not when it's about his brother. Not when it's about the only person in the world he has ever called 'family'. Not when it's about Regulus Black.
“Fine!” Regulus hisses after a few moments, Sirius’s expression from earlier mirrored on his face. “If you want to keep troubling yourself over this nonsense, then go ahead! I won’t stop you, do whatever you can to figure out what’s ‘wrong’!”
And before Sirius can retort, Regulus turns away and walk towards the steps of the top floor, descending them quietly despite the rage evident in his voice.
Sirius doesn’t stop him, he won’t. If Regulus thinks he can keep this up by just shutting Sirius down whenever he expresses concern, he’s wrong. But, even though he hates it, Sirius is a Black after all. He, too, has his techniques of getting his way.
He stays there for what seems like hours— no days. Gazing up at the star-laden sky, and pondering the full moon. There's a slight chill in the sky despite it being mid-July, and a thin layer of mist hangs over the horizon. He thinks of Regulus, who would have probably laid back on his bed, and would've been blessed by the oblivion of sleep by this time. As far as Sirius knows, his baby brother doesn't have much trouble falling asleep. Or does he?
Sirius thinks of Remus, who would be transformed and wild right now. How much he wishes that he could be there for him in the morning, to crack a joke or two when Remus most needs it. How much he wishes that they could speed up the process of being animagi... And, hadn't they found out he's going to be a black dog, earning him the nickname, Padfoot? How much he wishes that he could turn into Padfoot already, and run out of this hellhole to meet Remus. How much he wishes that he could just be with Remus, alone.
The stars in front of his eyes get dimmer, and the chill in the air grows more pronounced. Sirius's eyelids become heavier and heavier, and before he knows it, he is slumping back again, finally blessed by the oblivion of sleep himself.
Kreacher's filthy grin looks uglier than ever under the morning sun, and Walburga's tall stature intimidates Sirius better than he would like to admit. But, what hurts most is his brother, Regulus, standing in a corner, eyes almost brimming with tears, but silent and timid as ever.
"Been time you learned to answer truthfully, Sirius." Walburga says, her high-pitched and mirthless voice carrying across the roof, "I ask again— Why did Kreacher find you sleeping here, on the roof, without my knowledge?"
"You don't need to have the knowledge of everything all the time, do you?" Sirius says, shrugging, and catching Regulus's eyes, who looks away sharply.
"I will not be spoken to like that!" Declaims Walburga, striding towards Sirius and drawing her wand, "I am your mother, boy."
She probably expects Sirius to start obeying her by imposing her power over him, but she doesn't seem to know about Sirius's problem with authority. "Then, you better start acting like it!"
Thud.
It happens faster than Sirius can register. One moment he is standing there, defying Walburga and all— and the next moment? He is flying towards the stairs, his head hitting the first step with a sharp sound.
Thanks to three years of Marauders' pranks, he manages to not fall further down by gripping the railing beside him, and by mustering some extraordinary sense of balance. Stars have erupted in the front of his eyes, and his head is spinning. When he exhales, blood droplets spray out of his nose, and his vision blurs due to the clash.
He can hear the sound of Walburga's footsteps approaching him; slighter ones falling suit slowly— probably Regulus's. Walburga's footsteps pause where seems like right in front of him, but Regulus's footsteps stop beside him. Then, there's a faint and dull thud of knees touching the ground, and he can barely make out a face, much like his own, staring back at him, their eyes level.
"Regulus," Walburga's high-pitched, carrying voice sounds from it's place in front of Sirius, "Your brother shall not be comforted or touched. Until I tell you otherwise."
Sirius thinks that Regulus would stand up and follow Walburga. He thinks that Regulus would be her perfect son, a puppet with strings to control once again. But, for the first time, Sirius Black feels happy upon being proved wrong.
Sirius feels Regulus gently wipe the blood dripping from his nose, his hand shaky. "Regulus!" Walburga's voice rings out again, causing Regulus's hand to shake even more, but not retreat yet. "You will obey me!" Walburga thunders, and Sirius makes out something red zoom through right in front of his nose. Suddenly, Regulus withdraws his hand as if burned, letting out the slightest whimper of pain.
"Sorry Mother," Sirius hears Regulus mutter timidly from beside him. There's a small noise like somebody getting up, and Regulus's face escapes Sirius's vision, leaving only highly polished shoes in his blurred sight. "But, Sirius is really hurt."
Sirius hears Walburga huff, and his jaw clenches, but he unclenches it when even that movement makes his skull hurt. "That is something I shall decide," Walburga's voice rings out once more, "Now, help Sirius get to his feet. Blacks aren't this weak."
Sirius makes out Regulus's hand outstretched in front of his face, still shaking. He grips it clumsily, struggling to stagger upright. He stands up, gripping Regulus's hand and still managing to look ahead (where Walburga must be glaring at him), and tries to show some defiance.
But, when Regulus lets go of Sirius's hand from his own shaky one, another wave of dizziness suddenly hits Sirius, causing him to topple over. He hears Regulus silently gasp his name— as if from a great distance. His head hits the second step with another shrill sound. Then the third, and the fourth, and the fifth— but then, it's all dark.