── Sunday 13th February 1972

THE MELODIES TRAVELLED THROUGHOUT THE MUSIC ROOM as young Regulus' fingers slid across the keyboard of the grand piano. Over the course of what had become almost a year, the young boy had become better and better at not acknowledging the critical eyes that peered at him no matter what he was doing.

He had never felt so observed, yet so ignored as he had done these past months. It seemed Walburga was ready to catch out each small slip-up - like a hawk watching its prey. It was plain to see that his mother was trying to recreate in him the necessary qualities of a true Black which Sirius was clearly lacking.

If Regulus was to be completely honest, this small, silent attention from his mother had sparked a new hope in the boy - the hope that he could make her proud - even if it was rather intense.

It was no secret that this had always been a goal in the young boy's life. After all, no matter how many curses she tossed at him and Sirius, she was still their mother, yes? She had their best intentions at heart and good sons made their mothers proud; she'd said so herself.

"Alright, that's enough," his mother said, breaking the fierce hold she had on him, as she looked away to pick up her wand. Regulus turned to her, blinking when she used magic to tame his head of curls. "Rodolphus has offered to allow you to stay at the Lestrange residence throughout this meeting and I want you to be on your best behaviour, understood?" He nodded. "Good."

── ✧ ──

"Isn't this place usually locked when someone comes over?" Regulus asked Rabastan when the two were finally alone. They were both in the kitchen, the latter rummaging through the drawers and cabinets for snacks.

Rabastan shut the fridge, pulling out two bars of chocolate, "Nah, it's just when Ev comes over. He always ends up burning something and it annoys Rodolphus."

Regulus smiled, "That sounds like Evan. I guess he's not coming then?"

The other boy nodded, "Dickhead managed to convince his mother to take him to meet the dark lord, since he's 'practically eleven'," he said, adding air quotes. "Mind you, his birthday is in April," Rabastan complained, rolling his eyes as he held out a chocolate bar for him to take.

Regulus blinked at it, a skeptical look on his face, "I'll pass," he said, "I ate earlier."

Rabastan's eyebrows knit together in confusion, before he shrugged and ripped off the paper, taking a bite out of the sugary treat, "Hey," he said, his mouth full. Regulus cringed. "Has your brother met the dark lord?"

"Who? Sirius?" He shook his head, snickering at the thought, "Definitely not. He'd probably try to charge at him, head first."

The two ten-year-olds head over to the breakfast nook, taking seats next to each other. Regulus looked over at Rabastan (who took another bite of his chocolate bar), realising for the first time how much more pigmented the boy's lips appeared in contrast to his dark skin, "Are you wearing lipstick, Lestrange?"

"Actually, it's called lip balm." Rabastan replied matter-of-factly, having the decency to swallow first this time, "It tastes like cherries too, it's great. I nicked it off Ro, but don't tell him."

"Really?" he questioned, both curiousity lacing his words, "I thought only girls wore make-up."

"Don't know, Ro wears make-up though and he looks cool." Rabastan glanced over at the kitchen door, "Don't tell him I said that either."

"You sure have a lot of secrets." Regulus said, pausing before he straightened up in his seat with a smile, "Okay I'll do you a deal."

"Deal what?"

"Get me a lip balm and I won't tell him you said that," Reg said, feeling rather proud of his genius.

"Oh. Okay, deal," Rabastan replied with a shrug, flicking his now empty wrapper to the ground. Regulus was too busy thinking about how cool Sirius would find him now to even judge the other boy.

── ✧ ──

── Friday 3rd March 1972

AFTER MORE THAN AN ENTIRE MONTH of planning, enhanced by the constant appearance of Peter's inner perfectionist, the boys were finally ready to pull their mischievous act.

It had went almost perfectly, except the fact that they hadn't considered the possibility of being caught. Having been the excited, reckless kids they were, too held up on executing their plans to pay much attention to the aftermath, the four only became aware of its existence during its presence.

The unsuspecting Slytherins had sauntered into the great hall, clueless to what was about to hit them. Once all four houses had settled in, the food had materialised in front of them: ham sandwiches and pumpkin juice and roast chicken that James would, as always, complain about being too unseasoned for his liking.

As everyone began to dig in, the four boys continued watching the Slytherin table intently. James especially, who Sirius noticed was very focused on Snape, Mulciber and Avery. Though, even Remus had looked quite eager despite his hesitance at first (he'd been convinced he'd be expelled and it had taken some promises to fist fight Dumbledore for him to agree). All in all, they were all evidently keen.

“What are you lot up to?” Marlene Mckinnon asked Peter, eying the Slytherins. Peter simply smiled at her, shrugging innocently — he was probably the least obvious of the four of them.

"Leave them to their secrets, Marls,” Evans, who sat next to her, said, rolling her eyes at James' sudden infatuation with the Slytherins, “Potter's probably just thinking up a new way to torture Sev.” Sirius recalled his dislike for the redhead growing each time she mentioned James.

And at last, as an explosion of cuisine and refreshments came from the Slytherin table, covering everyone who sat nearby (including some from Ravenclaw), an explosion of hysterical giggles had followed in suit from the Gryffindors. They really should have been more subtle.

So, now here they were, cleaning, after a firm scolding from Professor Mcgonagall. However, Sirius still stood by the fact that it was totally worth the satisfied look on his new best mate's face. Mulciber, for one, had actually fallen off his seat in shock — a humorous sight that he was sure James would treasure for weeks to come, as well as Sirius himself of course.

"Well," Peter began, his expression contorting into one of disgust as he picked up a soggy piece of bread and tossed it into a bin bag, "It's a good thing we got to practice cleaning earlier, huh?" he said, referring to the dorm tart incident prior to their current explosive foods.

"That was with magic." Sirius pointed out, frowning as he stared at the infinite mess left to clean up.

Peter shrugged, "I was trying to be optimistic."

"Yeah. I'm gonna go find Remus,” Sirius responded, dropping the mop in his hand, “His bathroom break's lasting a century and I don't think I'm using that mop properly."

"It could be worse," James said, offering a smile.

"I'm quite sure that's a fib," Sirius said, making a face at the sticky concoction on the ground in front of him - even he wasn't quite sure what it consisted of. “I'll be right back."

── ✧ ──

Sirius ran a hand through his hair as he walked down the hallway in search of Remus. Over the past few months, he'd noticed the latter had a knack for disappearing at random intervals - and at least once a month would be found in the hospital wing, immensely exhausted.

It drove Sirius - someone who liked to think who knew everything - absolutely insane as he attempted to figure out why. Everytime he'd question Remus, he'd be shut down with a change of subject or even a shrug.

Originally, Sirius had wondered if it was the repurcussions of using magic when Remus was only halfblood, though that theory was quickly discarded as the boy noted no other non-purebloods seemed to be having problems. Besides, Remus was far too smart to let blood status determine his health. Sirius saw how the boy worked - he saw how Remus would pull all nighters just to finish an assignment, how he'd bite his lip in concentration whenever trying to perfect his points, sometimes to the point his lip would start bleeding. In fact, Sirius had even learnt a spell, specifically to prevent the bleeding from-

Sirius' train of thoughts broke down as he turned a corner and slammed right into someone.

"Watch it, traitre," the blonde drawled out in a distinctly french accent. He smoothed out his robes and shot a dirty look at Sirius, seeming almost offended.

Sirius immediately recognised him as the Beauxbatons fourth year who'd transferred to Hogwarts a month ago. He'd seemed a big deal to many of Hogwart's pureblood population actually, something about duelling if he remembered correctly.

Sirius scowled at him, "Whatever, Nott. Mind moving out of the way? I have places to be and actually pretty faces to see."

Nott rolled his eyes, muttering as he shoved past Sirius roughly, “Pas étonnant que le seigneur des ténèbres préfère son frère.”

Sirius stopped in his tracks, his heart momentarily doing the same, "What did you just say?" he snapped, spinning around to face him. But it appeared Nott had already left.

── ✧ ──

NOT ME TAKING MORE THAN A YEAR TO FINISH WRITING THIS UNEDITED ASS FILLER CHAPTER THAT'S CRAZY but in my defenseeee i have none im lazy rip

i am done now though!!! who's proud it's actually thanks to humera and karrigan for updating and giving me motivation so props to them fr

btw the french is supposed to say "traitor" and "no wonder the dark lord prefers his brother" idk i used google translate rip

01.09.23