Chapter Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
Sirius was meant to run away when he was sixteen.
He had had everything planned.
A sports bag, full of his things, had been waiting under his bed. Ready for him to grab, and get the fuck out.
There had been a warm house and even warmer people waiting for him at his desired destination.
The Potters’ mansion.
However, what had not been planned was his mother casually announcing to him—one week before his escape had been planned, nevertheless—that she was with child.
Really, Sirius hadn’t been sure if the sudden circumstance had been part of anyone’s plan, but his parents never lost a word about it. Walburga Black had been pregnant in her forties and that was that. His parents were extremely old-school. One of the reasons why they couldn’t stand Sirius and his loud guitar, painted nails, and baggy clothes.
So the baby’s fate was settled.
Doomed to be born into the Noble House of Black, just like Sirius had been.
And just like the unborn child, Sirius was trapped in his mother’s wrath agin.
Though “again” wasn’t the correct term. Years later, he would acknowledge that he hadn’t been free a day in his life, back then.
Freedom, true freedom, would only find him later in life. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves now.
Facts being: Sirius couldn’t stomach leaving the house knowing a sibling, his sibling, would soon be born into it. Destined to grow up as lonely and neglected as he had been.
Till this day his decision to stay was the cause of the only fight he ever had had with James. Who had argued that ‚if Sirius didn’t leave now, he never would’ve.
That ‚if he chose to build a relationship with this child on the way, he’d forever be emotionally bound to it.‘
To that house‘
But James didn’t get it.
How could he have?
He was an only child after all.
And so was Sirius.
Until he wasn’t.
꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂
Regulus Black had been born on the Twenty-fifth of June in 1961.
It had been a gloomy day.
Overshadowed by crying clouds, like the sky mourned the loss of yet another star among itself.
꧁ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ꧂
Regulus wasn’t the brightest star in the sky, but he was the heart of the lion.
Sirius had spent the last month of his mother’s pregnancy reading through astronomy books for names, while she had been busy smoking cigarette after cigarette and raging around the house like usual.
It hadn’t come as a surprise, at least not to Sirius, when his baby brother was born too early and too small.
Barely weighing two and a half kilos the first time he had laid eyes on him.
He had gotten a short SMS from his father. Dryly telling him his brother had been Born. Following up with the address of a hospital.
A neat dot behind the message.
He will forever think fondly about the way James had distracted the Mrs. McGonagall by suddenly jumping out of his chair and starting an unprovoked fight with Severus Snape.
“Mister Potter! Where is this behaviour coming from?” The poor women had cried out in distress, as James had pushed Severus straight out of his chair.
Sending a wink to Remus and Sirius while he did so. Giving them the possibility to quietly slip out of the classroom unnoticed.
Remus had only gotten his driver’s license the week before, and mixed with his inexperience and their panicked excitement, they had caused a little car crash as they had parked at the hospital‘ parking lot. Or more like parked into a red car, but oh well— they had, more or less, arrived in one piece!
Insisting he did not belong inside the hospital room Remus had seated himself into an waiting chair in the hall.
Sirius had only allowed him to wait outside because, for one, he hadn’t been in the mood to argue about anything. Just wanting to finally meet his baby brother. And because, unfortunately, he could acknowledge it was a bad idea to show up in the hospital room with Remus.
His parents had hated the taller boy from the first day they had caught a glimpse of him.
Said he was too scarred all over. Too tall, lanky, weird. A freak.
Overall they were convinced Remus John Lupin was a bad influence on their mighty heir.
They couldn’t had been any more wrong about that.
More often than not it was Sirius who pulled Remus into shit.
Sirius thrived in his role as the bad influence, thank you very much!
But for this he would behave. Just once.
Would be a good influence for his baby brother.
He hadn’t knocked on the door. Had just stormed in.
Hair tossed in all directions and clothes pulled awkwardly from running out of school and crashing another car (a little bit. The car was fine!… He guessed)
Somehow he had managed to look more like a mess than his mother who had literally just given birth.
To be fair, she looked really put together for someone who had just pushed a human being into this world.
Perhaps because said human was tiny, light, and very much wailing.
His father rocked the tiny thing in his arms in a way that made Sirius question if his baby brother cried because Sirius had startled him with the loud banging of the door, or because Orion Black was rocking the newborn like a way less fragile, way older, kid.
“Is he okay?” was the first thing Sirius had asked.
“Of course that’s all you care about,” his mother had rolled her eyes from the hospital bed.
“Your mother almost died giving birth and I don’t even get asked how I am doing? Really, with what have I deserved this?” she wailed self-pityingly, confirming to her eldest son that she was, in fact, okay.
As long as his mother managed to be a raging narcissist, you needn’t worry about her.
“He looks too skinny.”
He had furrowed his brows. Pointer finger coming up to carefully poke at the sole of Regulus’ miniature of a foot.
Said foot kicked out weakly and the wailing increased.
“You make him cry, you make him stop,” his father muttered passively.
Probably glad for having found a reason to get the wet thing out of his arms. Sirius had no time to argue that he didn’t know how to properly hold a baby, before it lay in his arms.
He had read in one of the books about babies—that Remus had lent him—that they had really fragile heads and basically no muscles in their necks.
Highly focused on not being the cause of any injuries to the fragile being he had abruptly sat down on the floor, then and there.
Legs tucked under him as he had gotten on his knees on the marbled floor. His baby brother had laid surprisingly securely in his left arm. Pressed against his chest. His right hand had rested on the entirety of the small boy’s body. Forefinger tracing the space between those closed eyes, down, over that flat and adorable button nose.
“Have you written down a name for him yet?” Sirius had asked. Yet another question that got answered with a scoffed-out complaint.
“Who are you? the doctor? Gods, asking too many questions, that’s what you are! Let me get some rest,” his mother had grumbled.
With great effort Sirius had managed to pull his gaze away from the mesmerising human being in his arms, only to find his father nodding towards the direction of papers piled up on the bedside table. Then the elderly man had pulled out a box of cigarettes from his pant’ pocket and had disappeared out the balcony door.
Meanwhile his mother had seemed to have quickly fallen into a exhausted slumber.
Even Regulus had gone quiet.
Staying unmoving in Sirius’ arms. A barely audible breathing had came from his premature lungs.
Sirius hadn’t needed to think twice before carefully balancing Regulus on his left arm completely, so his right one was free to pick up the pen that lay beside the birth certificate.
In a matter of one second the name had been on the paper. Before the ink had even dried Sirius had pressed a kiss on to his baby brother’s forehead.
“Nice to meet you, Regulus Arcturus Black.”
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏)
Regulus was a very quiet baby.
Concerningly so, if you were to ask Sirius, and pleasantly so if you were to ask their parents. If they were even capable of feeling something like pleased, that is.
He barley cried for starters and the little gurgling sound his little brother made from time to time were mostly reactions to Sirius feeding him the bottle too fast, instead of actual process into verbal communication.
Whole eleven silent months passed, in wich Sirius tried to get his baby brother to make any type of sound or babble. Say any kind of word, in English aswell as in french.
His parents only spoke to Regulus in french, insisting it should be his mother tongue. Sirius internally thought that no baby would learn any type of language with the amount in wich his parents spoke to them.
But all was okay.
Sirius was there after all.
And so were James and Remus and even Peter, in there own ways. (Tough Peter really wasn’t good with kids they all had realised ,with tears in there eyes, when Peter had greeted the baby with an awkward and proper ‚Hello black Junior‘, over the two sided mirror)
Meanwhile James acted closer to Regulus in age then to Sirius sometimes, when he whined about his best friend not coming over for the holidays anymore.
His parents wouldn’t let Sirius take Regulus with him and so, driven by love but also concern, Sirius stayed back in Grimmauld Place.
He would lie if he said that on some days he didn’t feel like suffocating.
And he definitely lied about the worse days, where he did suffocate and the horrible thought struck him that he should have left when he could have.
On these nights he would sneak into little Reggie’s bedroom and scoop the baby into his arms. Steal him out of hus bed, to lay him inside his instead. Muttering soft apologies for his horrible thoughts against the soft curls.
But there also were good days. Like this one.
That had Sirius splayed out on his stomach, a colourful children’s book that Remus had gotten him placed under his chin, taking in Regulus’ reactions as he pointed at the vibrant pictures and named them.
„Apple“ he circled the red fruit, pointing at it. Regulus sat before him, chewing on his sock- the one that Sirius had given up on putting back onto his right foot over and over again- and looked at the book in a way that was a too serious look to be on the face of a adorable baby. „une pomme“ He repeated in French, amusement suppressed in his tone at the sight of Reggie’s little brows furrowing together.
The elder boy shook his head foundly, the rock song in the playground switching to ‚break out trough’ from The Doors.
Sirius was desiccated to
educate the boy in all manners after alll.
He was gonna raise the coolest baby ever.
Switching to another page Sirius pointer finger started at the left of page where a smiling women was drawn.
„Mom“ he continued explaining „mamam“, next was the baby, wich made Reggi laugh when Sirius forefinger tickled his little beer-baby belly instead of pointing at the picture as he named it.
„And this is the dad“ he finished off with the figure drawn on the right side of the page.
„Papa“ that earned him a little nod from Regulus, filling Sirius chest with pride at his smart baby.
But before he could admire the smartness of his little buddy for nodding in Understatement like a proper business men, little Reg opened his mouth.
„Pa-paa“ the baby babbled.
Drooling all over the already wet sock.
„Yes Reggi!“ Sirius sat up abruptly, reaching out to pick Regulus up from underneath his armpits, holding him up to gaze up at him amazed.
„Oui ! Petit génie, mon étoile“ he added when the first shock wavered and he realised Regulus‘ first word had been in french.
„Smart, smart boy“ he grinned, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek, not even carrying about how sticky and wet said cheek was.
In response Regulus happily reached his arms down, at Sirius‘ face. Slapping Sirius’ cheeks with shockingly much strength with hands so small.
Sirius told himself his eyes only filled with tears because of the sting he felt when a sharp tiny nail pocked right into his eye.
„Say that again Reggi! Allez“ he encouraged, feet pushing him up from the floor as he opened his bedroom door with his hip. Reggi in his arms he headed to his fathers office without once taking his gaze away from Reggi, who had begann to give his big brother a big, gummy, smile.
A lot had changed since Regulus had been born, but not Sirius‘ tendency to not knock on Doors. With another swing of his hips the dark wooden office door got pushed open, offering Sirius the view of Orion sitting in his office chair. His glasses held in his one hand, a pen in the other.
With a raised brow the older men looked up at Sirius. His expression saying ‚this better be good‘ but Sirius didn’t feel any nervousness at interrupting his dad.
Because this really was that good!
„Say it again Reggi, come on!“
He rocked the kid at his hip once, the hand that wasn’t holding him coming up to lovingly squeeze those red round cheeks together, making Reg pound cutely.
The sweet smile on Regulus face had dissapared and the little thing in Sirius‘ arms curled up into his neck, hiding.
„Don’t be shy Reg, come on, look! Papa!“ he pointed at his unimpressed father like he had pointed at the drawing.
But the baby in his arms remained small and hidden in his hold.
And his father remained displeased.
„If that‘s all Sirius, close the door on your way out.“ his father sighed, pushing his glasses up his face into his hairline to rub his face with tired sight.
Sirius opened his mouth to protest that ‚No! Regulus had said his first word, he had!.‘
Closing his mouth again his face turned into a hard mask, the feeling of the careefree moment having passed. Pulled away from his Grasp harshly, by his father‘ usual disinterested behaviour.
The disappointment Sirius had felt then wasn’t solely directed at his father.
Sirius should‘ve known better.
He closed the door behind himself and rocked the small baby hiding in his arms.
„I‘m so proud of you baby“
He wispernd to the quiet bundle in his arm, walking back to the safety of his room.
„You‘re big brother’ so proud of you!“
He managed a small smile. Nothing- not even there father- could had fully taken away his happiness in that moment.