ACT: ONE
CHAPTER i: ' weekend at black's! '

           Regulus had never expressly told his brother that he loved him. The honeyed words "I love you" had never actually dripped off his tongue. He'd never confirmed his affections aloud, with spoken vowels or otherwise. Emotions had never really clicked with him. He'd never understood the value of expressing such mundane feelings, nor had he ever felt the warm glow that the three magical words breathed within one's chest when said back to them. But he knew, his brother knew, their parents knew, that Regulas loved him.

And Sirius appreciated that. Because while he, like Reggie, had yet to audible admit he loved him too, his actions spoke volumes louder than any trivial words could ever aspire to. His love for his brother was something everyone was aware of since Sirius had thrown his golden ticket of redemption from the crimes and sins that lay dormant in his Toujours Pur blood over the London bridge for Regulus.

The look on his former friends' faces as he had done so had been caked with a deep rooted sorrow; the memory was on constant reply every time he let his eyes fall shut for longer than a blink. He could remember it all, every exact detail branded on the soil of his mind, recalling it, reliving it as if it were just yesterday. James had been an ungodly combination of hurt and enraged by Sirius' betrayal. How dare he throw away his second chance? How dare he say no to James' generous offer to let him escape the heavy chains laced around his limbs attaching him to his pureblood supremacist family? How dare he pick his brother over his brothers? Remus had closed his eyes and sighed a regretful tone, but there was a sense of dreaded acceptance in his scarred features — like he had knew what Sirius was going to say before he had even parted his lips. Peter, on the other hand, had been confused and remained oblivious to what factors could have possibly persuaded Sirius to do as he did.

No matter how tempting and luring the offer of freedom had been, Sirius had known better than to act on such selfish desires. Of course, he had wanted to go. Of course, he had wanted to deflect from the dark side and make a new name for himself, an honourable name. But he had seen with his own eyes what happened when a member of the Black family defied against their traditional beliefs. Andromeda was the most recent example. Shunned and branded a blood-traitor for marrying a muggle no one dared mention the name of. Sirius held her in high respect for doing what he couldn't. She was braver than he had ever been.

But it wasn't cowardice that made him stay. No, in fact it was love. Sirius loved his brother too much to leave him behind in a world so dark it would have smothered him alive. So he broke his friends' hearts as well as his own, and he stayed. He stayed long enough to regain his family's respect after having lost it back in first year when he'd gone to sit with the red and gold lions over his own fork tongued kin. He stayed long enough to become a highly ranked deatheater and serve under the very man he hated with every inch of himself. He stayed long enough to move out of 12 Grimmauld Place and provide a safe home environment for Regulus when he wasn't staying at Hogwarts.

Sirius Black, the Gryffindor heartthrob, the Padfoot prankster, the loyal marauder with the loudest laugh in all of Hogwarts, was dead. In his wake stood Sirius Black, the deatheater, the murderer, the big brother of Regulus Black. But also, Sirius Black, the young, respectable, pureblooded bachelor...

"Oh, Sirius!" Walburga beamed proudly as she walked the parlour door unannounced. Heels clicking through the air, each step louder than the last, demanding to be heard and worshipped. She discarded the coat in her arms over the head of the house elf statue holding a tray by the door, leaving her in a simple black shirt tucked into a regal pencil skin. Her dark hair was wand-dried to perfection, each curl and strand sitting stiff and firm in it's assigned place, and on her face was a smile that she reserved only for her precious sons. "There's my darling boy!"

So much for moving out, Sirius grumbled internally as he placed the Daily Prophet aside and stood to greet his mother. It would seem not even wizard sons could ever escape the clingy hand of mothers calling into their home uninvited. In fact, witches were able to do it so much easier than their muggle counterparts because they had access to the floo network which allowed them to pop in any time they liked. No need for a doorbell and no chance to play the "not home" card.

Walburga and Sirius may have had, well, they barely even had a relationship for most of Sirius' teenage years, but all that had took a drastic change since Sirius decided to change. He knew his childish rebellious behaviour was going to get in the way of protecting naive, little Reg from the horrors of their world and he came to an ultimatum: change for the worst or leave Regulus to face the dark side of their world alone.

Their mother had been all but one straw away from blasting Sirius' name from the family tapestry when the boy's personality did a sudden 360. Gone was the tantrums he would throw whenever their parents asked the blood status of the friends Regulus spoke of over dinner. The eye rolls were kept to an absolute minimum, the back cheek practically non-existent and the disobedience brought to a swift end. The permanent charms on his muggle posters and the Gryffindor scarves he'd stuck to the walls of his bedroom were the last piece of evidence that the old Sirius had even existed at all. Although, he'd even went as far to try and remove them before he moved out.

Sirius' purchase of a new manor had been viewed as an odd move by almost the entire wizarding community. It had raised many questions, especially those concerning the parenting styles of Orion and Walburga. Why would the heir of 12 Grimmauld Place move out of his family's ancestral home? Sirius only gave them a brief answer. He wanted complete independence to concentrate on his work with the Dark Lord. The real version being that he wanted to get away from the memories of his former self that lived on in number 12, no matter how many attempts he made to remove the traces. The ghost of Sirius, the Gryffindor, still haunted the halls of Grimmauld Place. Another was he got to have his brother move out with him and could keep him safe from his mother whenever she decided to turn to the wine cabinet.

However, in spite of Sirius' many efforts, there was no protecting Reg from becoming a deatheater. Regulus, who was as stubborn as his older brother and still oblivious to the cruel nature of joining the Dark Lords ranks, insisted he join. Fortunately, Sirius was able to keep him out of the more radical tasks Lord Voldemort asked them to carry out by joining the dark side himself and climbing the ranks impressively quick. He became (as he had once heard the others mutter behind their masks) the Evan Rosier 2.0, a name he was far from proud of, despite his parents' opinion on the matter. They'd both been nothing short of ecstatic since Sirius had more or less completely forsaken his own beliefs and principles in favour of theirs.

"Why don't you visit more often?" She chided dotingly as she pulled Sirius in for a hug. He clenched his jaw as he made eye contact with his father entering the room over her shoulder with a rather large bruise on his forehead, and like the respectable son he was, he begrudgingly hugged her back.

Orion flashed him a pleased smile, wandering in with his cane swinging loosely by his side until he pushed it down on the hardwood floor to lean on it. His greying hair was swept forward in a tidy yet effortless manner to conceal the first signs of baldness — even magic couldn't cure that one. But it did nothing to conceal the evidence his mother had threw another object at his head in one of her drunk tantrums. Some people liked to dance with a drink, some cried or laughed at the smallest of things, Walburga got aggressive.

"My duties have kept me busy, I'm afraid. You'll have to excuse my lack of visits," his tone was frozen and carved from the thickest of ices. There was no love or apology in his voice, nor was there the arrogant chip it had in his youth. It was dead, just like him, a voice reminded him in his head.

His father scoffed, the corners of his mouth curling as he shook his head in light dismissal. "Nonsense, Sirius. Don't listen to your mother. You're making us proud everyday you serve the cause. Do not let her motherly love keep you from doing your job."

Sirius gave no verbal response, simply nodding his head as if he couldn't have said the words better himself. But he could have. He could have said he never called because Walburga's precious wine collection caused the violence to awake within her blood; the alcohol bringing the demons in her head to the surface to wreck havoc on anyone who dared get within two feet of her. That, that was one of the reasons why he never showed his face in the house he grew up in. He didn't though.

Walburga glanced back to her husband and shared a look befpre she clasped her hands together abruptly and smiled at them both. "Well, I'll go make us all a cup of tea."

"Ah, I'd love a cup." Orion smiled back, moving to take a seat on the leather couch and making himself comfy before looking up at Sirius. "I like what you've done with the place, Sirius. Very elegant so it is."

Sirius didn't bother to correct him that the furniture and decor was the exact same as the last time they had visited. He took the armchair across from him and nodded once. "Thank you."

"Too many stairs for me, though." He gestured to his cane by his leg that didn't like to bend as much in his old age. A few potions a day kept it from hurting but magic couldn't cure age, they were still human in that way.

"How are you keeping?" Sirius asked, hiding his concern behind a stoic face. He never liked asking his father about his health: it almost never prompted a good response. Same as talking about his mother's alcohol induced agression.

"Spendid, son." If there was one thing that never changed about Orion Black, it was his genuine smile; a placid smile. "I think Kreacher is deeply feeling the absence of Regulus."

Splitting them two had been a task and a half. Sirius still loathed the vile little creature for worshipping their family so much: what good hearted beung would choose to praise a family as prejudice and pretentious as theirs. Whereas Regulus acted as if the house elf "shits pots of gold", in the wise and sophisticated words of Sirius. Eventually, the brothers came to a compromise that Kreacher would stay at 12 Grimmauld Place while Regulus is in Hogwarts and only stay at Sirius' manor when Reg returned home for the holidays.

"Of course, he is." Sirius grumbled with an eye roll: it was probably the most emotion his father's seen on him since he graduated Hogwarts last June.

Neither had an opportunity to continue their conversation as Walburga stormed back in with a stern expression, a tray with a teapot and cups floating behind her. Sirius leaned back and prepared for the worst, judging by the way her face was scrunched up tighter than the belt on her waist he was in for a real treat. "Sirius Orion Black." Full name, must be serious. "When on Merlin's good earth are you going to get another house elf? Have I to fetch my own cups and saucers every time I come to visit?"

Sirius was tempted to tell her to stop visiting if she hated it so much. In fact, he almost did but his father quickly came to the rescue and re-earned his title as the family peace keeper once again. "Walburga, dear, if he wanted one, he'd have one by now. Besides, Kreacher would happily move in if we gave him the go ahead. Unless, you want to give Kreacher away—"

"No, no, that's okay." She was quick to interrupt. They all knew how much she liked to have the house elf do the most minimal things for her out of sheer laziness and years of growing up as a spoilt rich kid. With a flick of her wrist the tray floated over the table and sat itself down while she accompanied her husband on the couch.

Sirius watched his parents exchange another glance, this time paired with his mother placing her hand over his father's in both encouragement and comfort. He swiftly concluded that they had not just come to annoy him with another faux happy family tea party. They came with something to say; something they knew would upset him. His eyes flickered between them, observing the nervous tapping of Orion's fingers against the arm of the sofa and the anxious gulp of Walburga's throat, while he poured his tea and patiently waited for them to spill their guts.

"Sirius, love," Walburga began softly, her grey eyes melted into a cloud of warmth when they lifted to his. Oh, how looks can be deceiving. No one could have ever guessed this was the same woman who slapped him so had he fell down the hardwood stairs because she'd heard him telling a young, doe-eyed Regulus about the Gryffindor common room. She'd been drinking in the parlour with a number of party guests when she'd gone upstairs to the bathroom and overheard them talking. But drink or no drink, it was no excuse to hit a child. Still, Sirius had to grit his teeth and constantly remind himself this woman was not as kind or motherly as she appeared. "A lot of the other Sacred Twenty-Eight families are talking about us, and you—"

"Me?" Sirius echoed in confusion. "What about me?"

"Just that you're young and an excellent example of a gentleman." Walburga soothed in a prideful tone. "You should know all the wizarding families think very highly of you, dear."

All the wizarding families. Sirius felt his ribs cave in once those words reached his ears, bending so far they were threatening to crush his lungs and heart in a callous vice grip. The Potter's certainly didn't think highly of him, nor the Lupin's or the Pettigrew's. Walburga said all of wizarding families, but she only counted the one's not classed as blood traitors or those who diluted their blood with muggles and other "lesser" creatures. He wished it was the other way around. In a perfect world he'd be the good guy, the one the Potter's and the other families with no pureblood supremacy thought highly of him. Well, in a perfect world there would be no such thing as pureblood supremacy.

"You've been out of school for six months, Sirius, it's time to step up to your other responsibilities." Orion spoke up, surprising both his wife and son since he normally choose to remain quiet and let Walburga do all the talking in significant matters.

There was a shift in the atmosphere. Tension flooded into the room with enough pressure to flatten them against the floor until their bones eventually shattered like frail eggshells. Sirius' gaze went cold, colder than he had ever directed towards his father before — it was usually his mother on the other end of his gaze. He kissed his teeth, letting the single sound echo in the spacious room and almost deafening his parents' who had all but turned their hearing up to hypersensitive levels in anticipation of his response. "What other responsibilities would that be?"

Orion flashed his eyes back to Walburga as a silent way of nudging her to answer for them both. The crows feet around her eyes became more apparent as she plastered a pursed smirk on her face. "Marriage responsibilities, my dear boy."

Sirius gave no reply. He stared at them both a second longer before bringing his tea up to his lips and taking his first sip.

"With Bellatrix is married and Narcissa is engaged, it's about time for you to follow suite." She continued when she realised he had no intention of verbally responding to her. "Our family, our House is the oldest and most pure of bloodlines which means you cannot afford the luxury of finding someone yourself. There will be an arrangement made for you to marry into another highly respectful family."

"The Murphy family are lovely people, you'll love them." His father added in a lighter voice. He always did have a knack at making the best of things and making them sound a whole lot less dreary. "Asteria's a beautiful well mannered lady. A cousin of the Malfoy's, did you know? You'll both do well together. Love isn't what you'll have but you'll have respect and trust, which is better in a long term relationship. Less chance for a divorce so I wouldn't worry about that."

Their voices mingled together as they replayed over and over again in his head. Him? Marriage? He'd never even given the ordeal much thought because he'd promised himself he would never love anyone who could try to take Reggie's place as his number one priority. He'd never been in love either. Sure, he'd been a lady's man back in Hogwarts but that was nothing more than flirting and meaningless flings. There had even been a moment with Remus that he'd thought, just for a second, that something like love could have transpired. But his family would have never agreed so he let that thought flee as quick as it had appeared.

He knew Asteria Murphy, not personally, but he knew of her. She was a blonde and she was Slytherin, graduated in the same year as him. The little sister of Leto Murphy and the little cousin of Lucius Malfoy. That was all he knew about her and yet, he was supposed to marry this woman.

The old Sirius would have screamed at them, yelled until he lost his voice that he would sooner die than marry some pretentious lamb that longed to follow the flock their families belonged to. But the new Sirius only nodded and said, "I will do whatever duty commands of me. For my family." ... for Regulus.