──── 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗫𝗜𝗜

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── Friday 1st September 1972

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── Friday 1st September 1972

SIRIUS' SUMMER WAS DULL AND ARDUOUS, despite the rays of sunshine outside, that his ivory bedroom curtains compromised anyways - truly, being home for the holidays had swallowed up all chances of enjoyment in rather a similar way. He was sick of visiting family friends who stayed so long they might as well have moved in, and he was sick of lengthy suppers comprised of even lengthier lectures about the importance of upholding their family legacy, regardless of his oh-so-unfortunate sorting, accompanied with a side of boiled vegetables and rice, but most importantly he was sick of his fibbing younger brother who refused to open up to him despite his desperate pleas to let him in.

Over the past few months, Sirius had come up with a multitude of possible reactions Reggie could have when he saw him again — his brother would hate him for being placed in Gryffindor, or for talking to blood traitors, or for being a blood traitor, but never, never, had the boy thought he would be the one appalled by his brother's actions. If Sirius didn't know any better he would have felt betrayed — Nott and his dumb fucking words played in his mind continuously every time Reggie would neglect his questions, like one of Remus' broken Bowie records.

"You know he's a killer, right?" Sirius had asked him a few times, wondering where his brother's stance was on that, but Regulus hadn't even dared to look at him.

Other times it was: "Who told you to talk to him?" Again, a question Regulus had become accustomed to ignoring.

"Rosier?" Sirius had pressed once. "Lestrange?" He recalled his brother's jaw tensing at the mention of his mates, just like their mother's would when she disagreed with something. That had bristled Sirius for reasons he hadn't wanted to pinpoint. "Was it mother then?" 

"Just go away, Sirius! You don't know anything!" Regulus had snapped back, so suddenly that the other boy had flinched. Right. Merlin forbid someone accused their poor mother. Sirius had rolled his eyes at that, and simply left the room. That had been the last time he'd found himself interrogating his brother that summer. 

However Sirius did know better, and so he knew if anyone could get through to his stubborn little brother, it was him. He refused to believe that Regulus' demeanour would change so drastically around him over a few friends who lacked idealistic pureblood standards, his brother was not that stuck in his ways. Regulus simply needed to get to know James, Peter and Remus and in no time he'd be far away from any thoughts of assisting pitiful terrorists who went by melodramatic pseudonyms.

Packing away his final items of clothing, Sirius made his way down the stairs, which were certainly the only thing he'd miss as, unlike at Hogwarts, these ones didn't knock him off his feet. Regulus joined a few minutes later, standing next to him yet only uttering a simple "Hi."

Sirius looked in their mother's direction, expecting her to apparate them to the train station already as he was just itching to get away from this miserable dwelling, though it appeared she was otherwise occupied, with muttering away to their father in a hushed tone.

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