Black Brother Oneshots

The Babysitter: 17 July, 1967

"Sirius, Regulus! Come here, boys!" Walburga Black bellowed across the house. 

The two boys were together, sitting on the floor in Sirius's bedroom playing with their stuffed animals. They looked in unison towards the door, and looked back at each other. 

"Coming, Mummy!" Sirius responded, as he stood up and dusted his outfit, knowing all too well what would happen if he even had a speck of dirt on his clothes. He extended his hand, which Regulus gladly took, before dusting his outfit just as his older brother had.

With Sirius in front, the two boys made their way towards the voice, which was in the kitchen. 

When they got there, Sirius's eyes widened and he stayed by the doorway as Regulus entered the kitchen. His parents were dressed in their best, and sitting at the table was his older cousin, Bellatrix. That could only mean one thing; Bellatrix was babysitting. Sirius tried everything in his power not to groan aloud. 

Though he'd never tell anyone, he despised his oldest cousin. She was cruel and sadistic, even at sixteen. He knew she had already pledged her loyalty to the newly rising Dark Lord, despite only entering her sixth year at Hogwarts. She was the family's pride and joy, and all the adults hoped that the younger ones would grow up to be just like Bella. Even at seven, Sirius knew he wanted to be the opposite of Bella. 

"Bellatrix is watching you two tonight," Oh, joy! Sirius thought, "And I expect you two to behave, especially you, Sirius."

Sirius leaned against the doorframe, "I always behave, Mummy," he said in a sickly sweet tone that shouldn't have come from a seven-year-old. 

Walburga glared at him, but she left without another word, storming out of the kitchen so fast, Sirius lost his footing and almost fell. 

Orion followed behind her, but stopped in front of Sirius. Looking down at him, he sneered, "Pureblood men don't act like that, Sirius Orion."

Sirius didn't acknowledge his father, instead walking in the kitchen, as Orion left. He leaned against the kitchen counter, standing on his tip-toes to see over it. 

"Bella! Bella! What are we going to do!" Regulus asked energetically, tugging on Bellatrix's arm.

Bellatrix gave him a warm smile, which Sirius believed to be almost unnatural on her face, "What were you doing before I came?"

"Playing with our stuffed animals in my room," Sirius's tone was dark, yet high-pitched because of his age.

"How about we do that then?"

"Yes! Yes!" Regulus gave a face splitting grin, and grabbed Bellatrix's hand, and began to drag her to Sirius's room.

Sirius sighed deeply, and made his way to his room with less enthusiasm.

By the time he got there, Bellatrix was sitting on the floor while Regulus ran around her with a stuffed hippogriff, pretending it was flying. 

Sirius knelt across from Bellatrix and grabbed his toy Ukranian Ironbelly, and made it fly with little energy, as if he were just playing for show. He kept his eyes down, trying to avoid contact with everyone else in his room.

"Sirius, are you alright?" Bellatrix asked. Sirius looked up and nodded, but still looked sullenly on the floor. Still telling he was upset, but not knowing what to do, Bellatrix continued, "Are you hungry? I can get Kreature to make you something."

Sirius shook his head, "We had supper not long ago."

Bellatrix looked around the room, "Did I ever tell you how much I like your room?"

Sirius nodded slowly. Personally, he hated his bedroom. The walls were a dark shade of green, with a huge snake painted above his bed. To him, it seemed eerie. Bellatrix mentioned how much she loved it every time she came to visit.

"Reminds me of the Slytherin Common Room. I can't wait to get back. I'm still waiting on my O.W.L. results to come by owl, though I'm sure I did amazing. You'll get to see the Common Room in a few years, Sirius."

Sirius shrugged, he didn't even bother to bring up the possibility that he might not be in Slytherin at all. He had the same probability to be in any house. He knew his family was expecting him to be in Slytherin, even at seven. He thought he had no choice in the matter.

"Bella! Can we have Chocolate Frogs as a snack? Oh, please, Bella!" Regulus begged.

Bellatrix sighed, "Sirius said you just ate, Reg."

"I know! But we haven't had dessert yet! Tell her, Siri!" He pleased.

Sirius shrugged, and held his dragon close to his chest, "We haven't."

Bellatrix stood up, "Let's get some snacks, then!"

Regulus yelled, "Yay!" as he made his hippogriff fly down the hall towards the kitchen.

Bellatrix went to follow him, when she stopped in the doorway and turned around to see Sirius still sitting on the floor, the dragon clutched to his chest, and a few tears making their way down his cheeks.

"Sirius, are you sure you are alright?" Bellatrix repeated, and Sirius nodded, wiping his face with his forearm.

"Do you want a Chocolate Frog?" Sirius shook his head. 

"Alright. We'll be in the kitchen," said Bellatrix, as she turned and ran to the kitchen. 

Sirius stood up, and sat on his bed, clutching his Ukranian Ironbelly as if it were his life line. Without trying to wipe them, he let the tears fall freely down his face.

Most seven-year-olds love their family. Love it when their older cousin visits, and can't wait till they are a teenager so they can be just like them. Sirius Orion Black III is different. He decided from that day on that he hated his family, except his little brother, cousin Andromeda, and Uncle Alphred because they were cool, but the rest of them he hated. He cried over the fact that his room was a dark, dingy shade of green when he had asked his parents to paint it light blue, his favourite colour. He cried over the snake painted on the wall, because even if he was too proud to admit it, it scared him. He cried over the fact that every time he cried, his father would hit him and say that pureblood men don't cry. He cried over the weight of responsibility that no seven-year-old should have. And he cried for the fact that his parents set his future in stone, and he didn't know how to make it his own.