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── Friday 31st March 1972
FOR THE PAST MONTH, Sirius' mind had been racing as Nott's words rang repetitively through it. Pas étonnant que le seigneur des ténèbres préfère son frère. What did that even mean? Well he supposed he had some ideas of what it meant - the notion of a Voldemort character, some raving fanatic who preached blood purity, had been circulating through Hogwarts' halls as if common gossip for a while now, especially now that he was a topic that stood out greatly to Sirius.
If he was completely honest, Sirius had feared his family would quickly jump to associate with what seemed to be the embodiment of their beliefs. Toujourspur, as was their family motto. Merlin, maybe even he would jump at that chance, had his Uncle Alphard not strayed him from that stupidity. After having admitted his "homosexuality", (A word which Sirius in fact did not know the meaning of. Perhaps he would ask Remus later on.) his uncle had been shunned by their family, including his own sister, Sirius' mother.
Even now, years later, the family tree tapestry at Grimmauld Place displayed the remnants of Alphard's name, his picture having been burnt off by Walburga herself. However, sometimes, when Sirius was assumed to be asleep, like Regulus, and his father was out of the house, the boy would come across his mother kneeling in front of the same tapestry, fists clenched in her lap, doing something he swore he'd never see her do, a sight that was just wrong on Walburga's hardened features. He'd see her cry.
This had been exactly why, when later hearing of the supposed murders of innocent muggles that Voldemort had carried out, Sirius had completely scratched the idea of the Blacks being involved with him at all. His family were set in their ways, sure, but they weren't monsters, and they certainly were not killers. Because they were just human. Messy humans enraptured by pain and anger that at times Sirius longed to escape perhaps, but humans all the same.
So why, after this determined realisation did Sirius still have the inkling of a feeling that Nott's comment had been more than just a petty retort? His brother was so naive, so stubborn, so eager to impress that perhaps he didn't even need a push to seek out the dark lord, perhaps it was a push enough that he'd support the family views this way. But that didn't even make sense, did it? How would Reggie even manage a meeting by himself?
This thinking was driving Sirius wild as all his conclusions only concluded in dead ends. Nott had carelessly tossed him into a maze of questions and not bothered to give him a map. It didn't help that he hadn't heard from Regulus since he'd left for Hogwarts. Only Merlin knew how he was after all this time. Well, Merlin and apparently Nott.
"You still up, Sirius?" came James' loud whisper, if one could even call it that.
Sirius rolled over on his side to face a squinting, half-asleep James Potter. "Hey," he said quietly.
