SIRIUS

After the day when Father brought the Bad Man back to Grimmauld Place for the first time, he came a lot - him and Father's friends. Father always sent us to our rooms after that first time, though, at least, so I didn't have to see him and, even more importantly, neither did Regulus.

There were meetings held downstairs in the dining room regularly. There were always rough sounding voices coming through the floor boards - at least once a week, sometimes more. Usually, Regulus and I were left alone for the night and once Kreacher had brought our dinner plates to our rooms, we would meet in the Clubhouse in the attic and spent the night playing silly games and trading chocolate frog cards.

Sometimes, we poured over different books - Regulus's favorite was Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, but I preferred Quidditch Through the Ages. There was something about watching the quidditch players flying through the air on their broomsticks - and the way they looked, catching quaffles and waving their beaters' bats at bludgers - that made my stomach squirm with excitement that I couldn't quite explain. I was fascinated. I thought Regulus weird for preferring to look at house elves and hippogriffs, mermaids with teal hair and kelpies than the quidditch players with their handsome faces and wind-blown hair.

"I'm going to look like that one day," I said.

Regulus looked at the book, at the player I was pointing at on the page, and he looked up at me and laughed. "No you're not."

"I could."

"No you couldn't."

"I could, you don't know."

"I know."

I ran my hang over the page.

Regulus gave me a funny look, but he didn't say anything more. But from then on, I wasn't sure I wanted to read Quidditch Through the Ages anymore. It made me feel funny when I did, like maybe I ought not to be - especially because I couldn't get the funny look on Regulus's face out of my mind whenever I did.

Sometimes, instead of leaving us alone, though, the meetings meant that our cousins were brought over, and Mother would expect me and Regulus to host them, setting us all up in the library while the meetings happened in the dining room downstairs. My eldest cousin, Lucius, didn't always come along but when he did was perpetually frustrated that he was being excluded and would go and sit by the door of the library, keeping the door just a barely cracked opened, his ear practically against the frame, listening. Narcissa would sit, glancing over at him from Mother's chair, where she inevitably sat, knees bent under her, pretending to read a book while she watched Lucius over the top of the covers. Andromeda, by far my favorite cousin, would lay on the floor and either play gobstones with Regulus, or else be beating me at Wizard's Chess. Bellatrix, by far my least favorite cousin, spent most of her time trying to square the living daylights out of me and Regulus.

I got to the point that I could no longer let myself shake in the presence of Fenrir Greyback, for he was there all the time, and he liked to take his time going downstairs after arriving through the floo in the library. He liked to linger about there and snap his teeth at my cousins - especially Narcissa, who always made faces of disgust when he said things that I could tell weren't appropriate. He would grin toothily, showing those awful fangs at me, and laugh if I showed any fear. So I learned not to be afraid, even when he made comments about what a tasty little snack children made. I was more afraid when he made comments like that to Regulus because I could see the color drain from my Little Brother's face when Fenrir Greyback chuckled after saying something like that to him.

"All bark and no bite, all bark and no bite," chanted my cousin, Bellatrix, whenever she overheard the threats. She cackled, though, at Regulus and me when we reacted and asked, in a cloying, babying voice, "Aww no is the ickle widdle babies scared of Uncle Fenrir?"

Andromeda would snap, "Bella, stop being horrid, Bella!"

"He isn't our Uncle," Regulus said.

"May as well be," Bellatrix cackled all the harder. "Our Mother adores him."

"Auntie Druella's mental," I said, not believing her.

Sometimes, if Bella didn't stop, the other sister, Narcissa, would snatch her by her ear and hiss, "I know you fear him, too. He's drained the color out of your flushed little cheeks more than once with his threats, so don't put them down for being afraid when you're just as much of a coward as the actual children are."

I didn't like being called a coward - but I did like hearing Bellatrix called one.

Narcissa wasn't the eldest - Bella actually held that title - but she was by far the most mature of the three sisters and Bella usually quieted when Narcissa snapped.

The one good effect of having the meetings at the house is that it seemed to improve my Father's mood. He strutted about with an air of importance about the house, his chest puffed up, and Mother, although just as sharp about my posture and finnicky about my lessons as ever, seemed quiet. Regulus's moods, however, were steadily becoming wilder and it seemed he was always throwing temper tantrums.

"I don't WANT to read this book," he said, pink-faced, eyes brimming with tears as he threw a tome about the history of purebloods in England. "It's BORING."

"You WILL read it," Mother said, picking the book up and putting it back in front of him on the desk.

Regulus scowled, "I don't wanna!"

It used to be that this sort of behavior was rewarded with him getting his way from Mother, but ever since that conversation I overheard from Father's study, it seemed Mother had been treating Regulus differently. She had taken to correcting his posture, too, like she did to me, and she'd insisted that he start reading Latin lessons with me and French as well. Father would sit in the library sometimes and listen, watch as we learned our lessons, and when he was there, Regulus never dared to throw books or pitch too much of a fit. I made sure if he did to do something equally horrid to distract Father's anger away from him, though - away from him and onto me.

Sometimes, Regulus was praised for learning so much or for having lovely penmanship or for doing something proper and well. Meanwhile, I only ever was told what was wrong with mine... and I started to resent Regulus just a little bit.

But when the adults weren't around, when it was just me and Regulus in our Clubhouse and we were having fun and talking and making jokes... Well, sometimes I could pretend all the stuff between us didn't exist and just love my Little Brother.

Other times...

"You're such an ickle sodcake," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I am not a sodcake!" Regulus argued. He crossed his arms over his chest. He looked like such a sodcake, I'd pushed him so he landed on his arse on the landing of the stairs by his bedroom door. "You ought to be nice to me or I'll hex you."

"The first thing I'm going to do when I get my wand someday," I said threatening him, "Is hex your face 'til your nose moves 'round the back of your head."

"You're so dumb, you can't even do that!"

"Can so! I know the spell and everything."

"Oh yeah? What is it, then, if you're so smart?"

"Nostris swoopus craniumnus!" I made up.

Regulus's eyes narrowed as he considered these words, which sounded latin enough to make him question it for a moment, then he snapped back, "You're making that up, that's not a real spell and you know it."

"It could be a real spell. You don't know."

"I know."

"You don't know," I argued, "Because you haven't been to Hogwarts! There's still plenty of time for you to turn out to be a squib, Regulus."

"Shut up, I'm not a squib."

"You could be."

Regulus frowned, "Yeah, well, you - you - you smell like dirty socks!"

I laughed and his face turned red. "Shut up, stop it or I'll hex you and curse you for real and true!"

"You don't know any hexes or curses," I said flippantly.

"I do, too," Regulus answered, "I know the one you're scaredest of most of all."

I rolled my eyes.

"Crucio," he said matter of a factly.

Just the word made my stomach flip and my skin tingle and I looked up at him with shock, feeling thoroughly as though I'd actually been hit with the curse, though, of course, I had not. He didn't have a wand.

"Told you I knew one," Regulus said, and he'd looked quite smug and gone up the stairs.

He had no idea.

Not really.

"What is a World Cup?" Regulus asked. I started to answer him, but he barreled on, voice excited, "Is it a cup with the world in it? Is it the sky? Is the sky a cup we're floating in? I caught a snail in the garden once and I put it in a cup."

"It's Quidditch," I said.

Regulus's eyes got wide. "Oohh."

"It's the biggest, most important game of the whole year, of multiple years, really. It's really exciting and Father's going to bring us!"

It was true. I couldn't believe it, but it was true. Uncle Abraxas - our cousin, Lucius's father - he had reserved a box at the World Cup and it had a load of seats and Father had been invited to go - Father and me and Regulus - and Father had said yes and we were all going to the World Cup! I was so excited that I had made up a song.

"Let's go out to the World Cup, let's go out to the pitch," I sang, "Our box seats are the envy of every wizard and witch! And we'll cheer out out brains for North Ireland - they're sure to gain the win! 'Cuz it's score, score, and he's got the snitch at the Wor-horrrrld Cuuuuuuuup!"

"That's not a real song," Regulus accused.

"Sure it is," I argued.

"Is not," Regulus said. "You just made it up."

"So what if I just made it up? Doesn't mean it's not a real song!" Regulus rolled his eyes and I grinned spitefully, and said, just because he always said it to me, "Be careful or your eyeballs will get stuck like that!"

I don't think I'd ever been so excited for anything in my entire life as I was for the Quidditch World Cup and I probably would never be so excited for anything else again like that, I reckoned.

I was counting sleeps to the day when Father would take Regulus and I to France to attend. I didn't even care that it meant spending a whole two days and a night with my cousin Lucius, who, when he wasn't listening at the door of the library, was actually a pretty awful person - and particularly so when my cousin, Narcissa, who was betrothed to him, was also around. Lucius actually liked Narcissa - which was more than could be said for most of the cousins - but she was only vaguely interested at best so Lucius spent a good deal of time showing off, being a prat, and trying to sound impressive like a big dumb bag of wind.

He often made me wonder, though, which cousin I'd be betrothed to and whether I liked her or not.

I just prayed it wouldn't be Bellatrix somehow. Although, I was fairly sure she was far too old for me and would likely be married and popping out heirs before I was old enough for such things. I sort of hoped it might be Andromeda, who also was far too old for me, but was still easily my favorite cousin. She was also the only of the three sisters not yet promised to anyone as far as I knew.

The day of us going to the World Cup came and Father took Regulus and I by the hands and disapparated us to the place where the Cup was to be held. The pitch had been specially built and was in the curve of a valley with the mountainside overlooking it dotted with little tents for the wizards to stay in the day and hours before the game. I had never been camping before and it sounded quite glamorous to my little brain when it had been described. I was practically shaking with excitement when Father led Regulus and I to our place - a small tent on the corner of a sprawling row of tents surrounding the massive, mansion-like tent that belonged to Uncle Abraxas.

That night, Father actually tucked us into bed - both me and Regulus - and he didn't even make a fuss about it. He told us stories about his days at Hogwarts, when he'd played on the Slytherin team as a Beater and how he'd won a trophy with his team that year - the House Cup, he called it - and it had been spectacular, he said, how they'd defeated the Gryffindor House with odds far out of their favor because of the great players Gryffindor had that year. "Three of'em went on to play pro quidditch and STILL we beat them!" he bragged, and he puffed with pride when both Regulus and I reacted with marveling awe.

I remember that night, praying to whatever gods were listening, that maybe Father would be happy like this forever and maybe he'd never be angry again. Maybe he'd been changed somehow and maybe we could get along now... Maybe whatever it was that had made him so upset with me before had gone away and maybe one day I could even make him proud of me.

I pictured myself winning my own House Cup and writing to him merrily, letting him know that I'd beat the stinking Gryffindors, too.

REGULUS

I woke up in the bed in the tent, nestled up next to Sirius. It was the sort of wake-up where you go from completely asleep to completely awake in a second - your eyes just open up awake, and just as alert as you would've done if you hadn't been asleep at all. Father was awake, sitting on the edge of his bed across the other side of the wide open room of the tent, bent down and lacing his boots.

"Where are you going, Father?" I asked quietly without moving. Sirius had his arm banded around me, his face buried into my spine from behind.

Father looked up, startled, and his eyes met mine. I watched his eyes move over Sirius's arm, and he frowned, then bent down to his boots once more. "I won't be gone long. You'll be safe here. Go back to sleep."

"Alright," I answered.

Finished with his boots, Father got up and he walked swiftly to the door of the tent, which waved gently in a breeze. He glanced back at me and Sirius, and then ducked outside.

I lay in the dark and listened to the sound of Sirius breathing. Every now and then, he'd shift ever so slightly - a kick of the leg, a nuzzle of the nose. My eyelids felt heavy.

I thought I was dreaming at first, when I heard the voices outside of the tent.

I was probably dreaming at first and maybe I just came awake so slowly that it felt like the dream had continued on. Everything had a sort of surreal feeling to it... especially when I recognized the voices.

"I wouldn't have changed my mind before, Orion, and I certainly won't now," the words were spoken with what sounded like an amused tone, but laced with coldness. Uncle Alphard. "You can tell my dear sister that the offer I made last year is off the table."

"My wife doesn't want your deal, you filthy swine." Father's voice rumbled low and dark. "You barter what should never have fallen to you to posses."

"Pity, it might have saved her life." A pause. "Oh, my little brother." A chuckle then, "Orion, you are full of surprises."

"Hello Alphard." Uncle Cygnus's voice was a lower register than Uncle Alphard's. Uncle Alphard had a bit of a musical, chaotic quality to his voice, which rose and fell like the waves of a sea, while Uncle Cygnus spoke in a deep baritone that stagnated in the air, something more like a deep, dark well than a playful sea.

"This is quite the family reunion," Alphard chuckled. "Abraxas, Orion, Cygnus, me... all of us together again at last! How I had hoped it would never happen." Alphard was having a lark.

"I'm sure you did," said Abraxas.

Alphard's voice held a very slight sliver of nervousness to it now, even as he laughed, "And what are you going to do? Kill me? Here at the World Cup? And spoil all the hard work your Lord has put into preserving the secrecy of your little cult?"

"Killing you would be no big loss for the world," Uncle Cygnus whispered. "The world would scarcely notice you missing. Save for it being a better place."

"One less of your types running about," hissed Father.

Alphard laughed. "Running? Oh Orion, darling, surely you've noticed faggots don't run - we might mess up our hair." There was a scuffling sound, a deep guttural grunt, and I could hear Uncle Alphard gulping for breaths. "Fuck," Uncle Alphard muttered. "I have to hand it to you, Orion, you do pack a mean pugnus."

"You'd do best to shut your mouth." Abraxas's voice was harsh.

"But I so enjoy the sound of my own voice." There was a pause, then, "I'm surprise you'll touch me even to hold me still, Abraxas... Aren't you afraid you'll catch it? That I might rub off on you?" Uncle Alphard laughed. "Don't worry, Abey-baby. I wouldn't rub on you if I was paid to."

Another guttural grunt from Uncle Alphard.

"You always were such a cocky little shit," Uncle Cygnus said.

"And you were always so spoiled, thinking only of yourself. You and Walla both, always so focused on yourselves, too busy being straight-laced to enjoy even a breath of fun. Go on and kill me if you're going to - now may very well be a good time to have done it - I'm about to squander the last of the fortune, after all, on a very worthy investment."

Father hissed, "This isn't about the money, Alphard. Nor do we plan to kill you."

"Not tonight," Uncle Cygnus added. "Too many eyes, as you mentioned."

"And so, what is this lovely little gathering about, then?" Uncle Alphard asked.

"A little lesson," Father said, chuckling quietly.

"Is that what you told Dierks, too? Is that what you said when you murdered my husband?" Uncle Alphard's voice shook.

"Him? No," Father's voice was cold and I could barely hear it when he whispered, "Him we murdered to have a bit of fun."

I felt the nerves in my body go cold. Memories of Dierks Bell flooded me and I trembled.

To my surprise, I felt Sirius's arm tighten around me and when I looked over my shoulder, it was to see his eyes were wide open, a very solemn look on his face. "Shhh," he breathed.

We lay there in the dark of the tent, listening, as Father, Uncle Cygnus, and Abraxas laughed and made remarks - the magic of their wands crackling, flashes of the light coming through the flaps of the tent opening as the breeze moved it. Uncle Alphard made small sounds - grunts, groans, yelps - as they beat him. Sirius buried his face against my spine again and pulled me tighter against him. I could feel tears wetting the back of my pyjama.

He must be afraid again, I thought, and I tried to stop trembling myself so that maybe he'd know that things were okay if he could tell that I wasn't afraid.

I wasn't sure why Uncle Alphard was being punished, but I reckoned it must be something like the reason that Dierks Bell had been. It must be why Father so disliked Uncle Alphard.- he must've done something bad. Something that needed justice.

The next day, at the pitch, we saw Uncle Alphard, and he had bruises on his face, dark around his eyes and on his jaw. We passed on the stairs on the way to the box seats, he was going down as the procession of us were going up... I was following Abraxas and Lucius, Uncle Cygnus, Father and Sirius. Uncle Alphard kept his eyes down as we passed, he did not look up at any of them - until Father had passed and Sirius and I were going by.

His hand snapped out and grabbed onto Sirius's elbow and he jammed something into Sirius's hand, his eyes meeting Sirius's squarely. They passed to me, fleetingly, and then, without a word or even a lingering moment, Uncle Alphard walked on down the stairs.

I never saw him again.

And, as far as I know, neither did Sirius.