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sabinetzinTitle: The Good Son
Summary: Regulus comforts his mother the night Sirius leaves home.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 1111
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Pairing: N/A
A/N: This is the second of my challenges from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
niav for the Black Ficathon. Now I just have luckiemonky's challenge to answer, and the rabit plot bunnies can have their way with me. Er... except for that pesky chapterfic. Oh well, 3 chapters is nothing. And they're only really drabble length.... but you're not here to read author's notes. (But, btw, you can participate in this. Ok, story time.)
There was shouting. Regulus tried to ignore it. He lay on his stomach in his room, the door charmed shut, wishing he knew a good silencing ward. He turned to another page in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 and stared at it, not taking in any of the information. The reverse of Sonorus is Quietus. Regulus heard the tinkle of breaking glass from the drawing room. He hoped it wasn’t his chess trophies.
Then the crying started. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Regulus could hear a trunk being thrown to the ground in the next room, Sirius’s owl being let out with a loud, unpleasant hoot, some scratchy noises that had to be his broom being packed roughly, but, above all, his mother crying and shouting. He put his pillow over his head when Sirius shouted that they could all go to hell. Regulus wondered idly if there was going to be a qualification, except him. He waited. Of course not. He put a pillow over his head.
Then he ran down the stairs, and the door slammed. He stuck his head out the window.
“Rius,” he called down.
“What the hell is it, Reg?” Sirius shouted back at him.
“You really gone this time?” Regulus asked him. This was only about the sixth time he’d run off, always to James’s house. Regulus had always rather admired James; he’d have made a great Slytherin.
“You bet your ass I am,” Sirius responded. “Just do me a favor and post anything that Mother doesn’t burn?”
“Alright, but there won’t be much left when she’s done with it,” he said. Sirius grinned, predictably. He couldn’t ever go very long without grinning.
“Bye, Reggie,” said Sirius. “You keep yourself out of trouble.” He turned and hailed. The monstrous purple bus appeared from nowhere. Regulus waved goodbye, but Sirius wasn’t paying any attention. He shut the window.
Regulus knew very well the protocol for this situation. He was going to go downstairs, his mother was going to cry and scream and drink and pass out, then he was going to put her to bed, and then Sirius would come back. Only it wasn’t going to be like that this time. Sirius was done with school; he had no reason to come back. And he’d never packed before. He usually just stormed out.
He walked calmly into the drawing room. A tumbler sat at his mother’s side, mostly empty, except for a few drops of brown liquid and some melting ice cubes. As he suspected, Regulus’s chess trophies lay smashed around their case. Sirius was always awful at chess. His pieces were known to hide under the bed when Regulus challenged him. Regulus smiled. He spelled them back together carefully and replaced them on the shelves. On another shelf, Sirius’s ring sat alone. It was a large gold affair, set with the Black family crest and engraved with the family motto. He really was gone for good.
“Accio firewhiskey,” his mother said, a little unsteadily, brandishing her wand at the liquor cabinet. With seeker’s reflexes, Regulus grabbed it out of the air as it passed him. He placed it back in the cabinet and put the most complicated locking charm he could think of on it. She swore at him.
“Come on,” he said, helping her up. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Oh no,” she said, pulling herself away from him. “I’ve had enough of this.” She walked over to the tapestry that proudly displayed his family tree. “I disown you,” she shouted, pointing at Sirius’s name. He disappeared from Regulus’s family line in a flash of fire, leaving a smoking blemish on the surface, identical to the one where Andromeda once was. Regulus was glad, for what was the first and probably only time, that his father wasn’t alive to see his favorite son and darling niece fallen into disgrace.
His mother staggered back and threw herself onto the sofa. She started sobbing again. Absolutely brilliant, thought Regulus. But he sat down next to her and hugged her anyway. She turned and wailed into his shoulder about her little Rius.
Regulus, though he was still young, had come to realize something. Family was family. It didn’t matter where you were, it didn’t matter what house you were in, it didn’t matter who your friends were, it didn’t even matter what you believed in. Just because you didn’t chose your family didn’t mean that you weren’t tied to them.
He never asked to be a Black. He didn’t really give a damn about whether muggleborns were inferior or not, and he certainly didn’t think it was right to behead an innocent house elf. But he was a Black, first and foremost, not because he wanted to be, but because it was who he was. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
That was Regulus didn’t- couldn’t- run away like Sirius. This was his home. And his purpose in this moment was to take care of his mother, precisely because she was that. And his purpose in this moment was to love his brother, even if his mother disowned him, because he still was.
He knew Sirius didn’t see it like he did, and Regulus figured he never would. It didn’t matter. Let him follow his own way.
His mother had stopped crying. “My good son,” she said stroking his cheek. “You’re never going to leave your poor old mother alone.” She smiled, and Regulus noticed for the first time that Sirius had her eyes. She clung to him tightly.
“No, Mother,” Regulus said, his voice distant and strangely emotionless. “I’ll always be here.”
“Such a good boy,” she said, resting her head against his and patting him on the knee. “You make your mother so proud.”
“Only doing my job,” he replied, not looking at her. But she didn’t hear him. She was already asleep. After a while, Regulus eased himself up, lay her on the couch, and covered her with a blanket. He blew the candles out and went to Sirius’s room. Quietly as he could, he packed all of Sirius’s clothes then reduced the suitcases down till they were palm sized. He tied them to his own owl and wrote Sirius a note.
Rius,
She spared your stuff, but you’re off the tapestry. I’ll send the rest later.
I’m sorry it had to be like this.
Your brother,
Reggie
He sent the owl off. She’d know where to find him, he was always there. With his new family. The one he chose for himself.
Regulus blew out the candle. Some people just weren’t so lucky.
Summary: Regulus comforts his mother the night Sirius leaves home.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 1111
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Pairing: N/A
A/N: This is the second of my challenges from
niav for the Black Ficathon. Now I just have luckiemonky's challenge to answer, and the rabit plot bunnies can have their way with me. Er... except for that pesky chapterfic. Oh well, 3 chapters is nothing. And they're only really drabble length.... but you're not here to read author's notes. (But, btw, you can participate in this. Ok, story time.)There was shouting. Regulus tried to ignore it. He lay on his stomach in his room, the door charmed shut, wishing he knew a good silencing ward. He turned to another page in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 and stared at it, not taking in any of the information. The reverse of Sonorus is Quietus. Regulus heard the tinkle of breaking glass from the drawing room. He hoped it wasn’t his chess trophies.
Then the crying started. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Regulus could hear a trunk being thrown to the ground in the next room, Sirius’s owl being let out with a loud, unpleasant hoot, some scratchy noises that had to be his broom being packed roughly, but, above all, his mother crying and shouting. He put his pillow over his head when Sirius shouted that they could all go to hell. Regulus wondered idly if there was going to be a qualification, except him. He waited. Of course not. He put a pillow over his head.
Then he ran down the stairs, and the door slammed. He stuck his head out the window.
“Rius,” he called down.
“What the hell is it, Reg?” Sirius shouted back at him.
“You really gone this time?” Regulus asked him. This was only about the sixth time he’d run off, always to James’s house. Regulus had always rather admired James; he’d have made a great Slytherin.
“You bet your ass I am,” Sirius responded. “Just do me a favor and post anything that Mother doesn’t burn?”
“Alright, but there won’t be much left when she’s done with it,” he said. Sirius grinned, predictably. He couldn’t ever go very long without grinning.
“Bye, Reggie,” said Sirius. “You keep yourself out of trouble.” He turned and hailed. The monstrous purple bus appeared from nowhere. Regulus waved goodbye, but Sirius wasn’t paying any attention. He shut the window.
Regulus knew very well the protocol for this situation. He was going to go downstairs, his mother was going to cry and scream and drink and pass out, then he was going to put her to bed, and then Sirius would come back. Only it wasn’t going to be like that this time. Sirius was done with school; he had no reason to come back. And he’d never packed before. He usually just stormed out.
He walked calmly into the drawing room. A tumbler sat at his mother’s side, mostly empty, except for a few drops of brown liquid and some melting ice cubes. As he suspected, Regulus’s chess trophies lay smashed around their case. Sirius was always awful at chess. His pieces were known to hide under the bed when Regulus challenged him. Regulus smiled. He spelled them back together carefully and replaced them on the shelves. On another shelf, Sirius’s ring sat alone. It was a large gold affair, set with the Black family crest and engraved with the family motto. He really was gone for good.
“Accio firewhiskey,” his mother said, a little unsteadily, brandishing her wand at the liquor cabinet. With seeker’s reflexes, Regulus grabbed it out of the air as it passed him. He placed it back in the cabinet and put the most complicated locking charm he could think of on it. She swore at him.
“Come on,” he said, helping her up. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Oh no,” she said, pulling herself away from him. “I’ve had enough of this.” She walked over to the tapestry that proudly displayed his family tree. “I disown you,” she shouted, pointing at Sirius’s name. He disappeared from Regulus’s family line in a flash of fire, leaving a smoking blemish on the surface, identical to the one where Andromeda once was. Regulus was glad, for what was the first and probably only time, that his father wasn’t alive to see his favorite son and darling niece fallen into disgrace.
His mother staggered back and threw herself onto the sofa. She started sobbing again. Absolutely brilliant, thought Regulus. But he sat down next to her and hugged her anyway. She turned and wailed into his shoulder about her little Rius.
Regulus, though he was still young, had come to realize something. Family was family. It didn’t matter where you were, it didn’t matter what house you were in, it didn’t matter who your friends were, it didn’t even matter what you believed in. Just because you didn’t chose your family didn’t mean that you weren’t tied to them.
He never asked to be a Black. He didn’t really give a damn about whether muggleborns were inferior or not, and he certainly didn’t think it was right to behead an innocent house elf. But he was a Black, first and foremost, not because he wanted to be, but because it was who he was. It was as simple and as complicated as that.
That was Regulus didn’t- couldn’t- run away like Sirius. This was his home. And his purpose in this moment was to take care of his mother, precisely because she was that. And his purpose in this moment was to love his brother, even if his mother disowned him, because he still was.
He knew Sirius didn’t see it like he did, and Regulus figured he never would. It didn’t matter. Let him follow his own way.
His mother had stopped crying. “My good son,” she said stroking his cheek. “You’re never going to leave your poor old mother alone.” She smiled, and Regulus noticed for the first time that Sirius had her eyes. She clung to him tightly.
“No, Mother,” Regulus said, his voice distant and strangely emotionless. “I’ll always be here.”
“Such a good boy,” she said, resting her head against his and patting him on the knee. “You make your mother so proud.”
“Only doing my job,” he replied, not looking at her. But she didn’t hear him. She was already asleep. After a while, Regulus eased himself up, lay her on the couch, and covered her with a blanket. He blew the candles out and went to Sirius’s room. Quietly as he could, he packed all of Sirius’s clothes then reduced the suitcases down till they were palm sized. He tied them to his own owl and wrote Sirius a note.
Rius,
She spared your stuff, but you’re off the tapestry. I’ll send the rest later.
I’m sorry it had to be like this.
Your brother,
Reggie
He sent the owl off. She’d know where to find him, he was always there. With his new family. The one he chose for himself.
Regulus blew out the candle. Some people just weren’t so lucky.