scars || sirius black

25 - until the very end

Two boys sat at the top of the Black mansion's grand staircase one wintery night. As the snow fell outside, the younger shivered in his thin pyjamas.

Hidden in the shadows they watched as their every person in the room below sank to their knees, heads bowed to the man entering the house. He had narrow shoulders and spindly hands with a chiselled face that was devastatingly handsome.

"Who's that?" whispered Regulus, tiny frame huddled against Sirius, his protector.

Sirius didn't know, but the sight of his parents kneeling made him flinch. His parents didn't bow for anyone, he'd been taught that from a very young age. The Blacks didn't bow for anything, and yet there they were.

His older cousin Narcissa's white dress crumpled like a rose on the floor, one hand on her heart.

She was gorgeous and carefree with a sharpness that no one ever seemed to expect, but yet seemed to attract more suitors than you could count.

And as this strange man gazed down at his subjects, she was the only one daring to glance up. Too smart for her own good, was what her parents would complain whenever she was mentioned, never quite on the same level as the rest of them.

She'd always been kind to the boys, but above them too, never quite in reach.

Andromeda was nowhere to be seen; she'd probably refused to come. Dromy was like that; she didn't care about the prehistoric views of her family, especially when they were getting themselves caught up in things like this.

Sirius shuddered at what she'd probably endured for daring to defy her parents, the grazes on his knuckles far too fresh to not remind him of what had happened the last time he tried to give one of the house elves some of his dinner.

He picked at the scabs and dried blood as the man spoke to his people of superiority, of domination, of murder.

———

And there Regulus and Sirius sat a couple of years later, but this time the strange man sat at the head of the banquet table in their father's place. And he had a name, The Dark Lord.

He was gazing as completely unfazed as he did those four years ago at the many more people there to kneel before him.

But Sirius didn't need to worry about Andromeda this time; she had escaped with the love of her life. He'd never gotten to say goodbye, but he was glad she'd escaped. Escaped from the pain of his mother's slaps and father's cruel words. Only one more year, he thought, then I can go to Hogwarts and never come back. And then he thought of Regulus curled up beside him and knew he couldn't leave.

Not if Reg would stay.

———

And so he did, sitting on those same steps in the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts.

Broken ribs aching, black eye swollen and sore, with Reg sitting next to him. Not curled into his side, but upright and indignant that he didn't need someone to look after him.

He was the favourite child, he didn't need protecting. They'd never actually make him take the mark, he thought.