REGULUS

I woke up alone in the clubhouse in the attic. I lay there staring at the blankets and the faces of the portraits that made up the walls. One of them was sideways and blinking at me, one eyebrow raised, from where he was leaning against his frame, a slight smirk to his face. I stared back at him sleepily for a moment or two before getting up and covering the creepy, watching portrait with one of the pillows.

Outside of the clubhouse, Sirius had perched himself on top of an upended old trunk, kneeling to look out the window. I scowled at the bowl of murtlap oil, which smelled gross having been left out all night. I crawled up on the trunk beside Sirius, almost falling over, but he caught my shoulder and steadied me so I could get up there, then nudged over so I could peer outside, too.

The square was muddy and drab with late winter/early spring boringness. Melty slush on the edges of the paths, no leaves yet on the grey-brown trees that stood all jaggedy against grey-brown grass and all the boring row houses lining the square. I looked at Sirius to see which direction he was staring in and followed his gaze to an old man walking along the edge of the square with a dog on a leash. Beside the man was a kid who was dawdling along in a pair of red wellies that looked too big for him.

"Are you spying on the muggles?" I asked.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. And their dog."

I watched them for a few minutes, but they were fairly boring. I looked up at Sirius. He didn't look bored, he looked fascinated. I looked back at the muggles and the dog. The dog was kind of interesting, I guess, but not enough to hold my attention and I turned and slid off the trunk.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asked.

"Downstairs, I'm hungry," I said.

Sirius looked wary. "Wait," he said. "I don't think everyone's left from the meeting yet."

I couldn't believe he was so scared of Mother and Father's guests that he thought they might be lingering about even the next morning. I started for the door, but Sirius got down off the trunk, ran over, and caught my arm. "Wait," he said firmly. He shifted his weight foot to foot, then said, "How about I'll go and get us food and you can... erm... make a... a sign. For the clubhouse."

"Make a sign for the clubhouse?"

"Yeah. A sign which says that it's our club house and there's no parents or house elves allowed. Just in case Mother or Father or Kreacher wanna go in it or something, so they know they aren't allowed." He grabbed onto my shoulder and turned me to look me in the eyes. "It's really important that we have a sign on the clubhouse. We don't want anyone sneaking in and stealing our blankets or our snacks or anyting, yeah?"

"Yeah," I agreed. Suddenly it seemed very possible that Kreacher might do just that - or even Mother or Father. "Alright."

"We've got to defend our clubhouse and make sure it's just for us. So.. so make it a really good sign, alright? Nice and bold so they can't miss it! Can you do that, Reggie?"

"Yeah!"

"And while you do that, I'll go downstairs and get us some food."

I nodded. Sirius usually didn't ask me to do stuff so it was pretty important feeling that he wanted me to do something like a sign. Especially since he made it sound like it was terribly important that the clubhouse have one.

I rushed downstairs to my room and crawled on my stomach to find the box of quills, inks, pencils, crayons and parchment, dragging it out to my play table, feeling very, very important. My belly grumbled and I wondered what Sirius would get for us to eat in the clubhouse and hoped it would be something warm and tasty. Maybe he'd get sausages, like Snuffles the dog in the story liked.

I smiled and as I sat there drawing letters on the parchment, I thought about Snuffles the dog and how much I liked him. I wondered if the dog we'd watched outside earlier was like Snuffles, if he liked playing in the mud and chasing birds, barking and naps by the fire. I was sure he liked sausages. Don't all dogs like sausages?

For effect, I quickly drew a picture of Snuffles on the sign I was making, chasing after a bunch of big oval sausage links that I did with brown crayons. I made a picture of Sirius, holding up one end of the sausage links like he was the fat man that sold them in the story when Snuffles stole the sausages by Waterloo and I laughed when I made Sirius's hair stick up funny in my picture. I made myself, too, in the picture, but I stood at the other side of Snuffles, watching him run after the sausages. I imagined my picture was rooting Snuffles on in getting the sausages and I laughed at it, making sure my hair was curly in the picture just like in real life so Sirius would be able to tell it was me when he looked at the picture. I thought it looked just like us - especially Snuffles, who was black and drawn with jaggedy black lines to show that he was shaggy-haired and I used red to make a big tongue that hung out of his mouth and little blue water drops because he was drooling at the sausages.

When I was finished making the sign, I looked it over, quite proud with myself. I hoped Sirius would like it. I flipped it over and signed my initials - R. A. B. - because that's how artists do in museums. At least in the museums in the picture books I saw in the library. They always were adding their names and initials on things. I liked my initials. They were fun to draw with long ends that touched.

I picked up my crayons and quills and ink pots and put them all away and pushed the box under my bed. Unlike Sirius, my bedroom was neat and clean because chaos and disaster always frustrated me. I liked things neat and in their place. Sirius always said I was weird for that, but I liked it a lot better than Sirius's room, where things hung off the backs of chairs and lay scattered on the floor all disorganized. I had no idea how he ever found anything in there. If my room looked like that, everything would be lost all the time.

It was a long time before I heard footsteps on the stairs and I poked my head out to see Sirius coming up them, carrying a big bowl full of stuff, carefully stepping 'round the stairs that creaked. He looked very concerned, but when he looked up at me his face cleared and I realized he was probably just concentrating on the steps. "Did you get the sign finished, Little Brother?" he whispered.

I nodded.

"Well, let's see it, then," he said, reaching the landing and stepping into my bedroom to have a look.

I held it out to him and he took it, putting down the bowl at his feet to look it over.

"Regulus and Sirius Black's Clubhouse - No house elves or adults allowed," he read, looking it over.

I held my breath in anticipation.

SIRIUS

Luckily, Regulus didn't need too much convincing to make him go do that sign. I didn't know what sort of mood Mother and Father were in, and Kreacher was likely to tell them what we were up to if we asked for him to go and get food. I didn't know if the Bad Man was still downstairs. I didn't want Regulus having to meet the Bad Man. The thought of the Bad Man holding Regulus's chin in his grip like he'd done to me the night before made my stomach sick. I didn't want him anywhere near my Little Brother, ever. I'd face him a hundred times on my own to keep Regulus away from him if I needed to.

So once Regulus had gone to make the sign I asked him for, I went and put on a jumper and a pair of socks. It was cold and I'd be able to slide quieter on the floors if I had my socks on. I snuck down the stairs past Regulus's room. On the landing outside the library, I paused and listened - the door was just ajar and I could peer through the small gap by the frame and see it was empty in there, apart from Kreacher, that is, who was using a brush, trying to get what looked like a stain out of the carpet by the fireplace.

I snuck down the last flight of steps to the ground floor, past the front door and down the corridor. The hallway was dark aside from the crack of light coming from Father's study door. That door was ajar, too, and I could hear voices coming from inside - Mother and Father - but Mother was crying.

My stomach ached hearing Mother crying like that - and when I heard Father's voice, a horrible thought went through me... What if I wasn't the only one who Father hurt? I wanted to throw up at the thought of it, and I stopped, frozen in the hallway, unable to move forward until I'd made sure Mother wasn't being hurt.

I listened close.

"You're softening him, coddling him too much, Walburga," Father was saying, his voice stern in a tone that was so much like how he sounded when he was angry with me. "I can't stand by and let you ruin the both of them that way. Already the Lord Voldemort sees weakness in Sirius. Carrying on the way you are, you'll spoil Regulus, too, and we'll have no children worthy of being the heir of the Noble House!"

Mother said, voice cracking, "Orion - we agreed, we agreed when we married. The first was yours to shape into the Heir you needed and the second was mine. The spare was for me. So that I could be a mother - a mother to one of my boys."

"That was before we knew about Sirius. He isn't what I need him to be."

"Perhaps if you treated him --"

"I treat him as I was treated, Walburga, and I did not turn out like that. He's been too influenced my poor genes. Your genes."

"We are both of good stock," Mother snapped, "Don't you speak to me as though I am impure or --"

"We are not the match that was intended and you know that." Father's voice was harsh.

Mother was silent for several moments. Then, in a lethally quiet voice, she hissed, "Don't you throw into my face the fact that you could not hold respect of a woman long enough to wed her. Besides, we both know what happened to your perfect intended, don't we? Is that what you expect me to live up to? A blood traitor?"

"She had better genes," Father snapped. "She didn't have... swine... in her family line."

"I cannot help what Alphard has become."

"The same as you cannot help what Sirius will - has already - become? Obviously there's something in the chemistry of your family. Something wrong that spoils the integrity of your branches... produces rotten fruit. I can see it in his mannerisms, Walburga."

See what?

"But the Lord Voldemort - he saw potential in Regulus. He said he was of good stock, he liked Regulus."

"So you'll take him from me? Take my baby boy from me?" Mother let out the words as a sob.

"You know the importance of continuing on the line, Walburga, you know that if we fail to do that then -- Don't shake your fucking head at me!"

There was a sound of crashing and Mother let out a yelp of surprise. I thought for a moment she'd been struck and my muscles tightened, prepared to step inside and stop him - how I didn't know, but even if all I did was distract him long enough for Mother to get out of the room... But then Mother's voice came, stone-cold, strong and angry, "Do not ever lay your hand on me or I will break it and every other bone in your body."

Father's voice was a growl, "You best be working doubly hard to help me prepare Sirius to a point of being acceptable as the Heir or yes - yes I will take Regulus as my Heir if I have to. And in the mean time, you will not spoil him. Stop with the coddling, stop with the spoiling. He will be treated like a man and he will be raised like a man until such a time as I have confirmed that Sirius is worthy of the title that birth order has put upon him."

"The Spare was for me," Mother hissed the words again.

I heard her footsteps only just in time to throw myself into the shadows behind the large ogre-foot umbrella stand, crouching low and covering my head, making myself as small as I could. She went rushing up the stairs without even pausing.

I don't know how I got the food from the kitchen. I don't know. I collected things from the cupboard, put it into a bowl for carrying... I felt numb. There was some biscuits and some fruits, a couple sandwiches from a platter full of them in the refrigerator that Kreacher had made, and bottles of pumpkin juice. I walked up the stairs, sneaking carefully along past the library, not wanting to attract attention from Mother.

The words I'd overheard played over and over and over again in my head.

I was nearly to the landing outside of Regulus's room when his door cracked opened and he peered out at me. A smile cracked his mouth and he pulled open the door the rest of the way eagerly. 

"Did you get the sign finished, Little Brother?" I whispered.

Regulus  nodded.

"Well, let's see it, then," I said, reaching the landing and stepping into his bedroom to have a look.

He held it out to me and I took it, putting down the bowl at my feet to look it over.

"Regulus and Sirius Black's Clubhouse - No house elves or adults allowed," I read, looking it over. My stomach felt heavy with the weight of the conversation I'd over heard. I looked at Regulus - the son that my Father wanted, the son that my Mother wanted - the Little Brother that I loved. "Brilliant, Reg," I said, forcing my voice to lift as I handed him back the parchment and picked up the bowl. "It's exactly the sort of sign that we need." I motioned to the stairs. "Let's go."