𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗦 ━━━ sirius & regulus black.

──── 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗜

── Tuesday 3rd November 1970

SIRIUS AND REGULUS BLACK had always been opinionated. It didn't matter that the two were merely boys; one now eleven, and the other still nine. Their views were utterly antithetical to their sibling's and it was clear as a crystal ball.

The eldest of the brothers - Sirius Orion Black, was an absolute nightmare. He was, as their mother put it, a petulant, infantile cretin whose mind has been plagued by the sickening thoughts of mudbloods, halfbreed and vermin alike. Sirius stood for anything their parents stood against, it seemed his only place in the ancient House of Black was to become its utter disappointment and defy every belief the family of purebloods had ever held to heart.

Regulus Arcturus Black was, in fact, almost everything his brother was not. It was no wonder he was the favoured of the two, the younger boy was much more impressionable, believing practically all and any of the discriminating words that fell from their mother's abrupt and unforgiving tongue. Though, even he couldn't escape Walburga's wrath at all times; it depended on their mother's mood, honestly. Sometimes his older half wasn't around to take the attention away, sometimes all eyes focused on him and every small slip-up was met with some form of scolding or punishment, because, despite popular belief, even young Regulus wasn't perfection to a Black's standards. At least not yet.

Much was on his mind as he subconsciously poked at the delectible (even more than usual) supper the house elves had prepared that night. Usually he'd enjoy it, especially considering it was Sirius' birthday, but today was a different matter. All Regulus could think about was how by this time next year, his dear brother would be off at Hogwarts, and he'd be left home alone.

Now, perhaps it was surprising, but the two brothers were inseparable. Wherever Sirius went, Regulus usually followed, because even though the eldest had a knack for causing trouble - just earlier, he'd smashed about a dozen glasses, at his own celebration and then called the portrait of their great aunt a disgusting hag with a piggy little nose for ratting him out in a manner that was anything but discreet - yes, despite his faults and Regulus' too, they were brothers, and the nine-year-old had never loved someone so much as he did Sirius.

And of course that was the problem: Sirius. Who'd hold a terrified Regulus tight during thunderstorms, cracking occasional jokes to help him get through the night. Sirius, who'd understand he needed to be alone and spend time spiting their parents just so he could be forgotten, free to think over how he'd been screamed at for things as simple as forgetting to brush his dark curls. Sirius, who was there to look out for him even if the older boy was, according to their family, completely delusional. Sirius, who would soon be leaving. Regulus gripped the fork in his hand tighter at the thought, as if doing so would prevent the owl with the letter that meant their separation from ever finding them.

"Regulus Black." Walburga's sharp voice cut through his contemplations and worries like the blade of a dagger, and the boy slowly looked up, his hold on the silver cutlery diminishing and his posture straightening in his chair.