Mortem . Sirius Black

chapter one hundred and fourteen

April 12th - Muggle London

It was the last day of Easter Vacation, and Regulus Black had managed to escape his mother and the grueling Death Eater meetings for a few moments of peace and clarity. Muggle London wouldn't have been his first choice for a stroll, in fact, the boy figured that it wasn't even in the list of choices he could decide from. However, when he did visit Diagon Alley, all he was met with were harsh stares and glares.

Women pulling their children closer to them and walking faster.

Merchants and shop owners whispering loudly about him, not caring whether he could hear them or not.

People leaving their tables at the Leaky Cauldron when he sat to the one next to them.

Needless to say, the Black surname carried a certain reputation, and that reputation wasn't the best. He grew tired of it, the stares, the whispers, all these people thought they knew him, judged him by the mark that they guessed was on his forearm, and if the boy was honest, he couldn't blame them.

Too many of those people had probably lost someone to Death Eaters or had one of their family members go into hiding simply because they were muggleborn. Still, the young Black couldn't help but be frustrated at the hoards of people hurriedly walking along the wizarding street.

They didn't know him, they didn't know what sacrifices he had made, with who his loyalties lay. Safe to say, he had left Diagon Alley in a rush. Which is how he found himself walking along a muggle street in London, for the very first time.

The boy had almost gotten killed twice on the short walk he was taking, once by those machines muggles had on their roads and another time when he'd almost run head-first into a phone booth, managing to catch himself right in the nick of time.

He wasn't a fan of muggles, he didn't want them dead by any means, but if given the choice, he'd much rather spend an evening listening to James Potter talk about Lily Evans than with them. Still, he found them interesting, and awfully innovative.

It was simply extraordinary how much those people had managed to achieve without magic. Right now, he was in a second-hand shop, looking at a small metal box which, apparently, recorded everything on tapes and allowed someone to replay the recording and listen to it whenever.

Picking it up, for he throught it could be quite handy when dealing with Death Eater meetings, he moved to the counter, "How much?" he asked

The woman working the till eyed him with equal measure of intrigue and judgement, Regulus couldn't blame her, he was wearing the most muggle clothes he owned, that being an all black suit, "What ruddy movie did you come out of?"

Rolling his eyes, Regulus ignored the question, "How much?" he asked again

"Twenty-six pounds," replied the woman roughly

Rummaging about his pocket, where he had some muggle money given to him by Sirius earlier in the year. Not knowing exactly how to work the pounds, he pulled out two papers with the number '20' written on it, and slapped them on the counter, "Keep the change" he said, walking out of the door

Next door to that shop, was what appeared to be a rundown coffee shop, although it resembled a junction a fusion between a bar and a gas station more like. Still, Regulus was in dire need of caffeine, and so he pushed inside.

Growing up part of the sacred Twenty-Eight, the youngest Black brother had acquired certain expectations for where he should dine, basic hygene being one of them, something that this place clearly lacked. Still, he figured staying there was better than wandering aimlessly around.