Figuring it out for himself was a lot more difficult than he’d imagined it to be, mostly because he had had barely any time to think it over, as Mother and Father followed him down not long after he’d gone back to the kitchen, and they’d been so angry they’d just dragged him home by the ear, through the Floo network, all the way up to his room. Regulus had lain on his bed, crying it out, for about half an hour afterwards. Then he got to his feet and he went for the door, and, despite knowing it would be locked again, he tried the handle. And it opened. Confused, yet relieved, Regulus tiptoed to Sirius’ room. He knocked softly on the wood. The door creaked open about a second later, and Sirius ushered him inside. The room wasn’t very tidy and Regulus wondered when Kreacher had last cleaned up, for robes lay scattered across the floor, underwear lay sprawled on the desk and chair, and books appeared to have been carelessly thrown at the bookshelf instead of placed upon it. The dark green wallpaper was filled with moving drawings, and that was the best part about Sirius’ room. Regulus knew he’d done the drawings himself. He wondered if Sirius could draw him some things as well. He was outgrowing his magical creatures wallpaper. He tore his eyes away from the drawings and looked to Sirius, who sat on the bed. A Quidditch magazine lay beside him, open, and he could easily read that it was about what the new Nimbus 1000 could mean for the World Cup of 1970 – which seemed ages away to Regulus, but he supposed it was important information for the players. Sirius closed the magazine before Regulus could read their conclusions. ‘So?’ Regulus sat down on the bed beside him but didn’t answer. Sirius pressed on, ‘Well, what happened? Did you find them? What did they say? Don’t leave me in the dark.’ ‘They wouldn’t tell me anything. They just told me to leave.’ ‘Then you should’ve stayed longer,’ said Sirius. ‘Pressured them somehow. Demanded answers.’ ‘I couldn’t.’ ‘You could’ve tried.’ ‘I couldn’t!’ Regulus snapped, then winced at how loud his voice was. He clasped his hands against his mouth and turned to look at the door, straining his ears – nothing. He took a breath and whispered, ‘They weren’t going to tell me anything. And I wasn’t going to make them angry again.’ Sirius looked at him sideways. ‘Well, you weren’t very successful then, seeing we’re back up here again.’ ‘The doors are unlocked,’ Regulus pointed out. ‘Yeah,’ Sirius agreed. ‘The doors are unlocked.’ A long silence washed over them. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered eventually. ‘I didn’t—’ ‘What happened back there? With the table?’ Regulus looked at his hands, then the ceiling, then the floor. Anywhere but Sirius. He hadn’t meant to break that table. It really had just happened. But the way it had felt … It scared him a little, and he did not want to talk about it. Sirius seemed to pick up on his silence. ‘Hey,’ he said, softer now, ‘it’s all right, you know. Accidental magic happens.’ ‘It wasn’t … that.’ ‘You were angry,’ he said. ‘And then—’ he made a dramatic motion with his hands, imitating the table splitting in two. ‘It’s not the same. I mean, I was angry,’ he admitted. ‘But I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do anything.’ ‘That’s how it works, though, isn’t it? Emotion – magic – boom!’ ‘It felt different,’ he insisted. It hadn’t been the same as when he’d summoned toys or biscuits because he wanted them when he was little. It hadn’t felt the same as when he’d suddenly gone from the topmost landing to the entry hall in a second when they’d been racing down the stairs, trying to see who was fastest. Sirius shrugged. ‘Magic is magic. But if it was that different … Maybe it just means you’ll be the more powerful brother after all.’ ‘I don’t want to be more powerful than you.’ ‘Why not?’ Regulus shook his head. He didn’t know how to explain. Sirius nudged him. ‘Come on, Reggie. Don’t look so miserable. Surely it’s not that bad. You got Bellatrix covered in wine! That’s got to make you feel better – at least a little bit.’ ‘I just want to know what’s going on. Why Father wasn’t at the table. Why Mother left so quickly…’ ‘Maybe they were just sick of Uncle Alphard?’ ‘I don’t think so. Bellatrix said it wasn’t for children’s ears.’ Sirius looked at him for a moment. ‘You really want to find out, don’t you?’ He nodded. ‘Then let’s do some eavesdropping.’ ‘But they’d kill us if they catch us!’ Sirius grinned. ‘So we won’t get caught.’ He swallowed. He looked around the room, though he wasn’t sure what for. He bit his lip. His heart was racing behind his chest. It was reckless. It was dangerous. But he needed to know. ‘All right,’ he said. Sirius looked as though it was his birthday and he’d just been given a new broomstick, maybe one of those Nimbus 1000s he’d been reading about. He jumped to his feet. ‘Wait!’ called Regulus. ‘What’s the plan?’ Sirius stopped by the door, handle already in hand, and looked confused for a moment, then thoughtful. ‘We’re going to find out where they are, and then we’ll ... well, we’ll just listen through the keyhole.’ ‘And if they see us?’ Sirius shrugged. ‘We run.’ ‘Right,’ said Regulus. That didn’t seem foolproof. ‘What, have you a better idea?’ He didn’t, so he shook his head. ‘Then let’s go,’ Sirius whispered. He stepped through the open door and Regulus followed him out, onto the landing. They didn’t close the bedroom door, worried it might creak and give them away. They crept down the stairs to the third floor, where they came to a halt. They strained their ears. Regulus shared a look with his brother. It was silent. Too silent. No sound came from the study, nor either of their parents’ rooms, nor the bathroom. Silently they agreed Mother and Father couldn’t be on this floor, and they headed down the next flight of stairs, glancing behind them every so often to check if they weren’t being followed, to see if Kreacher wasn’t there – and he wasn’t, and they weren’t, and they reached the second floor unseen. This floor was also deadly silent. Sirius turned to Regulus. ‘Stay here.’ ‘What? No!’ ‘You’re slower.’ ‘I am not!’ ‘Yes, you are!’ Sirius argued back. ‘D’you want to know what they’re hiding from us or not? Stay here.’ Regulus stayed. Sirius moved towards the smaller guest room and pressed his ear against the door. After a few seconds he pulled away, and he opened the door, and it gave a horrible creaking sound that made Regulus’ heart shoot up in the air, and he felt the thumping in his ears, and he spun around to see if anyone had heard them, but there was nothing. Sirius had also opened the door to the other guest room. It hadn’t creaked. Sirius reappeared on the landing and shook his head. ‘And they won’t be in the toilet.’ Regulus had to agree with that. So down again they went. At the bottom of the stairs, they hesitated. The doors to the drawing room were shut, and no light seeped from beneath them. No conversation could be heard from within. But that didn’t mean they weren’t in there. Because really, where else would they be? Sirius pressed his ear against the wood and listened. Regulus copied him, but all he could hear was the faint crackle of the gas lamps. He removed his ear and Sirius did the same. They felt the handles of the double doors but they wouldn’t open. They’d been locked. But there was silence from within. ‘Maybe they charmed it,’ Regulus whispered. ‘Maybe,’ he agreed, and he then did something very foolish, and rather brave; he rapped his knuckles against the door, and he called out, ‘Mother? Father? Are you in there?!’ Regulus jumped and sought somewhere to run, and he’d almost reached what had once been their playroom when he realised there was no reason to. Sirius’ yelling hadn’t opened the door. Nor had it caused any footsteps or murmurs or indeed any indication they’d been heard. He slowly moved closer to his brother again, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he figured out what this meant. ‘Kreacher?’ he called softly. Kreacher didn’t come. He sniffled, feeling suddenly very small and very trapped in their large London home. Sirius met his eyes. ‘Reggie,’ he murmured, ‘I think we’re alone.’ Regulus nodded, still sniffling. ‘I think so too.’ ‘You know what this means?’ He shook his head. ‘No parents means no rules. It means we can do whatever we want.’ Sirius was grinning widely now, and the excitement was somewhat contagious. Regulus wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked over his shoulder, still half-expecting Mother to step out of the shadows and catch them. Nothing happened. ‘Come on,’ said Sirius, and he was already at the stairs. ‘Let’s have some fun.’ Regulus hesitated. ‘But we were going to eavesdrop, weren’t we? See why they left ...’ ‘Well, we can’t eavesdrop if they’re not here,’ countered Sirius as he stood halfway up the stairs. ‘What if they come home? What if they catch us breaking even more rules? We’re not even supposed to be out of our rooms!’ ‘Well, if they come back, we’ll just run back to our rooms and pretend we’ve been there the whole time.’ Regulus bit his lip. He knew it wasn’t a good idea. He knew. And yet… ‘Oh, come on, Reggie! It’ll be fun! We could play duelling, or act out one of the Goblin Rebellions. Or—’ His face lit up. ‘We could get out the broomsticks!’ ‘I’m not going outside again! Not after last time.’ ‘We’ll fly in here. Oh, please, Regulus, just this once!’ Sirius was practically jumping up and down in anticipation of flying across the house. Regulus, however, still wasn’t convinced. ‘We’re not allowed to fly inside.’ ‘They’ll never even know,’ said Sirius. ‘What are you so worried for?’ Regulus crossed his arms. ‘I won’t do it. It’s forbidden.’ ‘Oh, come on! This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Besides, you need to practise. You still wobble too much when you turn.’ ‘I do not!’ ‘You do – but we can fix that. If you come fly with me, that is.’ Regulus sighed. ‘I don’t know …’ ‘Yeah, you do,’ Sirius said. ‘You know you want to have some fun!’ Regulus sighed. He had to admit there was something thrilling about the idea. ‘All right,’ he said, for the second time that afternoon, and he really, really hoped he wouldn’t come to regret it. He followed Sirius back up the stairs to the topmost landing and he got his own broom from his bedroom. Then they went back down to the third floor, where they stood near the stairs, both straddling their brooms. ‘All right,’ Sirius said. ‘First one to do ten laps around the chandelier wins.’ Regulus eyed the ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling above. ‘But what are we playing for?’ He raised his fist as if celebrating a spectacular win. ‘For eternal glory!’ Regulus rolled his eyes. ‘That’s not a real prize.’ ‘Fine. Winner gets to pick what we do next.’ That was better. However, he didn’t have time to say so, because Sirius kicked off the ground and rose up to the ceiling. He already began to circle the chandelier. Regulus pushed off. He wobbled slightly at first, but the broom held steady, floating a few feet above the floor. Sirius shot past him, reaching out as if to touch one of the ornaments, but he pulled away just in time, laughing. Regulus leaned forwards, gripping the broom tightly as he urged it higher. He had to win. If only so he could stop this nonsense. There was no knowing what Sirius would want to do next. Sirius was faster, but Regulus was more precise, and he could easily fly between the dangling crystals without touching them. ‘Now you’re just showing off!’ Sirius called. Regulus grinned. ‘Jealous?’ Sirius veered sharply to the left, circling around Regulus before diving at the stairs. ‘Race you down!’ ‘But we were going to race around the chandelier!’ he called back. ‘This isn’t fair; you’re already ahead!’ Sirius only laughed, pushing his broom faster. Regulus chased after him, determined not to lose. He angled his broom lower, matching Sirius’ speed as they sped down another flight— BANG. Regulus barely had time to process what had happened. One second, he was flying after his brother. The next, Sirius had collided with the staircase, and he and his broomstick were tumbling down the rest of the steps. Regulus followed quickly, tossing his broom away when he reached the floor below. He rushed to his brother’s side. ‘Sirius!’ he called, kneeling beside him. ‘Are you—’ Sirius sat up, grinning. ‘I win.’ Regulus turned around, heart hammering. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood upright again. Because the house was very, very quiet. ‘What if Kreacher heard?’ he whispered. Sirius stood up, brushing himself off. ‘Then he’d be here already.’ Regulus swallowed. That was true. And the house was still silent. No Kreacher. ‘See? No-one’s here. We really are alone.’ Regulus didn’t like the way that sounded, but he couldn’t do much about it. Sirius had already put his hat back on (it had fallen off when he’d come tumbling down the stairs) and held his broom in hand, ready to take off again. ‘What’re you doing?’ Sirius shrugged. ‘As I said: I won.’ ‘You fell.’ ‘I still won. I was down here before you.’ Regulus huffed but didn’t argue. ‘Let’s have a proper match.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I get to choose what we do next. And I choose Quidditch.’ ‘But we haven’t any balls—’ Sirius thought for a moment, then pulled him into one of the guest rooms. He grabbed the pillow off the bed. ‘Bludger.’ He tossed it into the air and smacked it at Regulus. ‘Use your arm as a bat.’ Regulus yelped and barely managed to dodge. ‘That’s not how it works!’ ‘Of course it is!’ Sirius said, doing the same with one of the cushions – Regulus caught it. ‘We’ll just have to make up the rules as we go.’ ‘Fine. But we need a Snitch. And a Quaffle.’ Sirius rummaged through a drawer. He pulled out a small gobstone and a dirty old pair of socks. ‘These’ll do,’ he said, tossing them to Regulus. Regulus let go of the “Bludger” and caught the items. The socks were vile so he quickly dropped them again. The gobstone ... ‘It doesn’t fly.’ Sirius shrugged. ‘We’ll just throw it and chase it.’ Regulus sighed but agreed. It was the best they could do. ‘And how do we score? We haven’t any hoops or anything.’ ‘We’ll find something. Come on.’ They left the guest room again and took the “balls” with them, back to their broomsticks. Regulus took the “Quaffle” and a “Bludger”, Sirius took the “Snitch” and the other “Bludger”. It was hard to balance on a broom with both hands full, but after some practice flying a few feet above the floor, he was confident enough to start throwing the “Bludger” at Sirius – and dodge his in turn. They smacked them at each other over and over again until they could be hit and still not fall. Then, Sirius tossed the “Snitch” high up in the air. They forgot all about the “Bludgers”. They both shot forwards to where they expected the “Snitch” to land. Faster, and faster— Sirius caught it, only to toss it up again, and it fell over the banisters down to the entry hall below, and they went after it as fast as they could. Just as Regulus stretched out a hand, Sirius swooped in from the side and snatched it away. ‘Too slow!’ Sirius yelled, veering sharply to the left so they wouldn’t collide. Regulus scowled and sped after him, gripping his broom tightly as he closed the distance between them. Sirius twisted midair, dodging at the last second, and threw the “Snitch” over his shoulder. ‘Catch!’ Regulus’ instincts kicked in. He lunged, fingers wrapping around the stone just before it could hit the ground. His heart pounded with the thrill of it. He barely had time to celebrate, though, because a cushion smacked him in the face. ‘Bludger!’ Sirius laughed. He had to have gone back to grab it when he’d been busy trying to catch the “Snitch”. The cushion fell to the floor with a thud. Spluttering, Regulus threw the “Quaffle” straight up, hoping to buy himself a moment, and dived sideways just as Sirius reached for them. Sirius was unable to stop in time, and nearly fell into the chandelier. Sirius spun his broom around, smirking. ‘That’s how you wanna play?’ Before Regulus could react, Sirius flew down, grabbed the cushion, came back up again and threw it – not at him, but at the chandelier. The cushion hit the chandelier’s ornaments, setting them swaying and clinking wildly. Regulus stared. ‘Sirius, stop! You’ll break it—’ ‘Not if you hurry up and score!’ Sirius yelled, already throwing him the socks again. Regulus caught it and looked around. ‘Score where!? You said—’ ‘We could use Kreacher’s cleaning bucket?’ Sirius interrupted. Regulus spotted it sitting near the door, still half-filled with murky water from whatever task the elf had last been doing. He nodded. ‘Deal.’ Sirius was faster, but Regulus was more focused. He ducked, dodged, and twisted out of reach as he tried to steal the makeshift Quaffle back. The moment he saw an opening, he threw it. The socks spun through the air, towards the bucket— They fell on the floor next to it. He’d missed. ‘Nooo!’ Regulus groaned. Sirius burst into laughter. ‘You missed!’ Regulus huffed. ‘You do it, then. It’s not as easy as it looks!’ Sirius was already diving to retrieve the socks. Regulus was faster this time. He shot down, grabbed them first, and kicked off the floor again, determined to score properly. Sirius was right on his tail, but Regulus swerved sharply and threw the socks towards the bucket once more— SPLASH. They landed straight in the water. Regulus turned to Sirius, grinning. ‘Ha! I win!’ Sirius groaned dramatically. ‘Ugh. Fine. You win.’ Regulus sat back on his broom, catching his breath. His heart was still pounding, but for the first time that day, it wasn’t from fear. The thrill of flying, the game, the laughter … It had made him forget the eerie silence of the house. For a little while, at least. Sirius grinned. ‘All right. You won. So you get to pick what we do next.’ Regulus hesitated. Now that the excitement of flying was fading, the uneasy feeling from before was creeping back in. The house was too still. Too empty. But that could change at any moment and they were breaking at least a hundred rules. ‘Maybe we should—’ But he couldn’t finish his sentence; there was a strange, thumping sound coming from below, and it had echoed all the way up to where they hovered on their brooms. Regulus looked at Sirius only to find him staring back with the same confusion and worry. ‘Did you ... Did you hear that?’ he whispered, flying closer to his brother. Sirius nodded slowly, and another sound came from below. ‘What is that?’ Sirius didn’t answer. Instead, he went down, landed, and sought for the source of the noise. He was a true hero. It was almost as if he’d jumped right out of one of those fairy tales they’d read so often, a hero who saved the poor wizards and witches from the Muggles that wanted to eat them. Oh no. There wasn’t a Muggle in their house right now, was there? He cowered on his broomstick and tried to hide behind the chandelier, which failed miserably because the ornaments were see-through, being made of glass. He should go back and hide in a room somewhere, or watch from one of the upper floors, and see what happened to Sirius that way… but then what would happen if he got injured or—or worse? They clearly weren’t alone. Another thump from below confirmed as much. Regulus watched as Sirius moved towards the sound. It seemed to be coming from the cloakroom. Had a Muggle sneaked in and hidden there? In the cloakroom? All this time? It had to have come in when they’d left the house, but that was months ago… unless Mother and Father had let it in some other time. But they almost never used the front door and it couldn’t have come in any other way—could it? Could Muggles walk through walls? The thought chilled him. He didn’t have much time to think it through, however, because Sirius got his attention from down below. He held up a hand, signalling for Regulus to stay back. Regulus stayed where he was, barely breathing and secretly glad Sirius hadn’t beckoned him to come closer – he wasn’t sure if he’d even done as asked in that case. His own safety was a big priority and it didn’t at all seem a bad idea to just wait up here until Mother and Father came back to deal with the Muggle. Sirius apparently thought differently. He crept closer to the cloakroom until he had the handle in his hands and opened the door. And after a final glance up at Regulus, he entered. And Regulus was all alone. And the house was all silent for several long seconds and he could not see his brother. He didn’t know if he was all right or if he’d been eaten by the Muggle. He didn’t know anything. Then there was a crack of Apparition, and sound returned to the house. There was arguing going on inside the cloakroom and Regulus lowered his broom to hear more clearly what it was about. What – or rather, whom – he heard then made his heart flutter: Father. He saw Sirius back out of the cloakroom stiffly, terror on his face, whilst the unmistakable sound of Father’s voice came after him, followed by Father himself. His face was red with fury and his voice was cold as ice as he rattled off all that Sirius had ever done wrong. ‘You disgust me,’ he spat simply, once he had Sirius cornered against the wall. ‘You are no son of mine.’ Regulus’ knees would’ve buckled had he been standing. However, he wasn’t standing. He wasn’t on his feet. He still hovered on his broomstick, and so all he could do was flinch at the words Father so carelessly said to Sirius, and break at the hatred he said them with. They stung and he tried not to hear them. Sirius was no disgrace to the family. Sirius was his brother and he loved him, and he was sure Father loved him, too. He didn’t mean any of this. Not really. They had simply made a mess of things. Yes, that was it. They had disobeyed Father several times today. It was only right he would be angry. It was only natural he’d be angry enough to—to say these kinds of things, after all they’d done. It was just. They had been horrible sons. But they had broken the rules together. Therefore they deserved to be punished together. He lowered his broom until he reached the ground. ‘Father!’ he called out, and he noticed he was crying, but he didn’t mind it. ‘Father, please—’ He moved towards him, slower than he’d wanted, but it was as if his legs just wouldn’t move at all. He wanted to hold him and tell him they were never, ever breaking the rules again – and that he was so, so glad to see him home again, because he’d missed him, and there was a scary Muggle hiding in the cloakroom, or perhaps it had left, and now roamed the house … Father, angry or not, was safety. So when he reached him and flung himself at his robes, he expected strong hands to grab his shoulders, to pull him up into that hug, and shield him from the danger. Instead there was a loud crack, and the fabric he held in his hands changed. His eyes shot up and he recoiled in horror; Father was gone, and in his place stood a tall and broad figure. It was bald and wore no hat, and its eyes were soulless pits, dark as coal, sunken deep into its face. They fixed on him in hunger. It made him sink to the floor and clutch his legs in fear. He knew he should run, but he was too weak. He could do nothing but stare at the figure dressed in filthy, tattered Muggle clothes, and the figure – the Muggle – for a long time, did nothing but stare back, with it's blackened teeth, which were too sharp, too jagged, and too dangerous, bared in a wicked grin. ‘Oh, no, what’s this? Is Daddy gone?’ it rasped, licking its cracked lips. ‘Not so brave now, are you ... a little wizard boy, all alone!’ It stretched out its filthy hands with long fingers and yellow fingernails that curved into claws and made to swipe at him, and suddenly Regulus found his movement, and he scooted away, crawling across the carpet as the Muggle chased him, saying, ‘Come here, little wizard … Come here … I’ll grind your bones for bread … I’ll pluck out your eyes and keep them in a jar … I’ll turn your skin into a yummy stew …’ Regulus still scrambled backwards, the rough carpet scraping against his palms as he tried to get away as fast as he could, but he couldn’t feel the stinging it caused, not really. It was dull and distant and drowned out by the pounding of his own heart. It became louder, louder, deafening, as the Muggle drew nearer, nearer … He could almost feel its fingers— It froze. Its grin twitched, its fingers flexed. Its gaze flicked to the front door, and Regulus twisted around, stealing a glance at what it was the Muggle saw there. Regulus had never been more relieved to see them. Mother and Father stood in the doorway. Their faces were unreadable until they caught sight of Regulus and the thing that had been chasing him. The Muggle. Regulus shuddered and realised the hall had grown very cold very quickly. ‘Get behind me,’ Father demanded, but Regulus couldn’t move. He saw Mother’s face: it had twisted in utter horror at the sight of the Muggle, and he couldn’t blame her. Father’s eyes glinting dangerously and his wand trembled in his hand, but Regulus just couldn’t bring himself to move away – his limbs were stuck. Regulus chanced a glance back at the creature. Was it still going to attack him with his parents there? Was he trapped? But to his great surprise, the Muggle was gone. Where there had been filthy, clawed hands wrapped in tattered, bloodstained rags there now were clean, tiny hands and elegant robes. But the worst part was the face. His face. The Muggle had become a pale and still version of himself, and the small body lay crumpled on the floor. The eyes stared up at the ceiling above but seemed as soulless as the Muggle’s had been. He looked back to his parents in fright, because why was his face there? But Father’s own face was ashen and he still clutched his wand in his hand with snow-white knuckles, and Mother ... Mother made a choking sound, a stifled sob. The seconds seemed to stretch out, and all the while, his feeling of unease grew, and grew, and the looks on his parents faces did nothing to change that. ‘You think this’ll frighten me?’ Father said, eventually, and though his voice trembled, he managed a strange sort of chuckle. ‘You are nothing but a trickster, a parasite. The shape you took is sitting right in front of you and yet you still take it on. You still mess it up. You hold no power here. Riddikulus!’ There was a crack and his face disappeared from the floor. In his place lay a doll, with an oversized head and an exaggerated smile, and Regulus thought it was rather creepy, but Mother and Father smiled, and they cast the spell again – ‘Riddikulus!’ – and there was another sharp crack, and gone was the doll. And nothing had taken its place. The hall was silent and the strange thing was gone. And Regulus still couldn’t move. The pain in his palms settled in and it burnt, and his heart was still hammering. He felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs. His whole body shook. It was being shaken. Mother’s hands had grasped his shoulders and she was shaking him – no, she was shaking, herself, her whole body trembling. He only trembled along with her. He was pulled upright by her arms and crushed into her chest, her hand tangled in his hair, pulling it slightly. It hurt a little, but he did not mind; he was afraid she might disappear if he let go, the same way Father had disappeared. She was the one to pull away, and she took him by his shoulders again. He could feel her nails digging into his flesh. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. ‘Are you hurt?’ Regulus quickly shook his head. ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again.’ He nodded again. He couldn’t find his voice, but she didn’t seem to notice – or care. He wanted to lean back against her, take in her scent, let her robes engulf him. He wanted to stay with her forever but she tore away and turned around, and he was forced to let go. She had turned towards the dining room doors, and in the doorway stood Father with his arm around Sirius. ‘I—I don’t know. We—We just heard something in the cloakroom...’ said Sirius. ‘I swear.’ Something in Sirius’ voice twisted his stomach, and he couldn’t help but think of the scene from before. Father, calling Sirius a disgrace, calling him no son of his... Father nodded. ‘That was a Boggart,’ he said. ‘They just show you what you fear.’ ‘So, the Muggle—’ he croaked, his voice working better than he’d expected. ‘It’s gone now,’ Mother said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t shaking any more. ‘You’re safe.’ Date: 6 April 1969 Event: Sirius and Regulus are home alone. Talk about Easter. Flying. "Quidditch". They come across a Boggart and are saved by their parents. Characters: Black Family: Walburga Sopdet Black Orion Sirius Black Sirius Pollux Black Regulus Arcturus Black Bellatrix Black mentioned.