The Art of Living - R. Black

eighteen

August 25th, 1996

Today is Elio's twelfth birthday.

We've been staying at the Black Manor in the Scottish countryside for the past few weeks. Being in London is too painful for everyone right now.

Regulus has spent the past few weeks throwing himself at projects around the house. He cleaned the library and organized it by alphabetical order, he went through everything in Alphard's study and threw out a bunch of stuff, and he put up quidditch hoops in the backyard for the boys.

Atlas and Elio have spent a lot of time playing quidditch with Regulus. Atlas helps me cook sometimes, and Elio spends a lot of time reading in the library.

It's been a rough couple of months for everyone, but some time away seems to be doing some good.

I'm finishing up the icing on Elio's birthday cake when I hear footsteps in the hallway. I can already tell that it's Regulus by the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood.

The kitchen door swings open and Regulus joins me in the kitchen. His hair is messy and he's wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt.

He smiles when he sees me and comes up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist.

"Morning," He mumbles, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Good morning," I reply, turning my head slightly to kiss him on the cheek.

"Have you been up awhile?"

I shrug, "Long enough to make a cake."

Regulus lets go of me and leans up on the counter beside me, watching as I spell out 'Happy Birthday' on the cake in dark green icing.

"You should try to get some more sleep, angel," He says.

"I tried, I promise," I say. "But she decided to start doing bloody flips at four in the morning. So I figured I might as well get up and make a cake for Elio."

Regulus laughs and rests his hand on my stomach. "Be nice to your mum, she needs her sleep."

The baby responds to his voice by kicking right where Regulus's hand is resting on my stomach.

"You little shit," I mutter.

Regulus grins and turns around to get the kettle started on the stove. He sets two mugs down on the counter and gets out the sugar.

"What if we stayed here?" Regulus asks.

I turn to look at him. He's carefully watching my face, trying to gage my reaction.

"Obviously we would still go back to London tomorrow so that the boys can get everything packed for school," He continues. "But what if we came back here after? I just-, I'm not ready to go home yet. There's too much of Sirius there."

I nod, "I like that idea. I think a few more weeks away would be nice."

"Really? Because it's up to you-"

"I want to stay here with you, Reg," I assure him.

Before my husband can respond, I hear the sounds of footsteps once again. This time I can tell that it's Atlas and Elio. Their voices get less and less muffled as they get closer to the kitchen.

"Shut up-"

"It's my birthday, you have to be nice to me."

"You called me a prick on my birthday."

Their conversation trails off as they enter the kitchen.

"Good morning," I say. "Happy Birthday, darling."