A House So Noble and Black

Chapter 1: Noble

December 24, 1975

Sirius sat against the solid door, pulling his legs closer to his chest. He could hear the muted noises of his parents rowing only two floors below. What a Christmas Eve. It wasn't like it was ever "merry and bright" at the Black home. There were no decorations around the home. No music drifted through the hallways; no friends came to call. Not that the Blacks had any friends that would even come to call. They were above such things.

Sirius knew what Christmas was supposed to be like. He'd spent most Christmases with the lads, choosing to stay at Hogwarts. His parents never pushed for him to come home, and he preferred the warmth and cheer of the Gryffindor Tower to the bleak and grey corners of the Black Estate. However, this year, he'd been sent a formal invite (Sirius had snorted in horror when the great horned owl had appeared late the night before the Christmas holidays. He'd read the letter dramatically out loud for everyone to hear) The letter had made it clear that he was to be on the train home in the morning.

This reason for his summons home was still unclear. The last twenty-four hours had been full of icy cold silence, and Sirius had half a mind to write to Minnie and connect the Floo in his room right to her office in Hogwarts. Sneak out while he could before shit hit the fan. Someone stumped past his door, probably Kreacher, Sirius thought to himself. He hated that elf, obsessed with his parent's ideals, sneaking out of dark corners, bowing himself so low to his parent's oppression, his nose shone on the end. He laid his head against the door, dreading what was coming.

His father's Patronus spilled into his room, a dark blue, pulsing light. "Join us downstairs for dinner. Now." A groan escaped his mouth, kicking himself for not running when he could have. This didn't bode well. He stood, straightening his jacket, knowing that he would already be reproached for wearing it in the first place. Black was an acceptable color to wear here, but leather, with silver buttons? It simply was not done in the Black household. They had a reputation to uphold after all. Swinging the door wide, he took a deep breath and descended the narrow stairs, past Regulus's room which had a new sign fitted to the door.

"Pratt," Sirius muttered under his breath and descended to the dark basement to what he could only imagine being an interesting night.

0-0

Regulus already sat at the dining room table, his back straight, lips in a thin straight line. Just like mummy had instructed him. The lights were low, several candles burning on plinths around the room. The best china had been set; someone important had to be joining them for dinner. Four other spots were set around the table, filling the table to occupancy. His mother and father flanked Regulus at the table, his father at the head and his mother planted on his right side. They sat close enough to put on an air of affection, but Sirius knew better. His parents did not care for each other. He'd been kept up into the night, hearing their harsh words spewed back and forth at each other from across the drawing room. Sometimes, it was followed by the sound of shattering glass and shrieking, and even worse, a harsh sound of his father's unyielding hand against his mother's soft and proud cheek. He did not care much for either of his parents or their ideals, but he did know how much he loathed the fact his father hurt his mother. It was bad enough Sirius and Regulus had to endure his treatments, but their mother as well?

They showed no signs of their earlier row, sitting perfectly upright, not speaking. The tension in the room could cut a knife. Sirius lingered on the entryway, resisting the urge to bolt from the front door. He could make the distance to James's house in no time, less if he changed into his dog form. As if noticing his son's hesitation, his father arched one large eyebrow, his eyes drawing Sirius to his spot to the left of his father. He braced himself, and sat, albeit, in a rather stooped hunch. His mother's already far too thin lips thinned even more, but she said nothing. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, the only sound breaking the cold silence was the candles which sputtered every once in a while. It was becoming too much for Sirius who was thinking fondly of the Gryffindor common room when the sound of the doorbell clanged through the house, making Regulus jump.