Chapter Text
Although the July breeze had arrived in the small Welsh town, Sirius awoke to an unfamiliar and cold manor, the bitter people sleeping through the the early hour avoiding the humidity of the summer.
Sirius sighed, staring at the clock on his bedside table. He was awake at such an ungodly, early hour and had to bear with nothing but the sound of his mother’s bleating and the feeling of the sun’s venomous heat on his neck. If six in the morning was utterly dismal, then how melancholy would midday be?
He sighed, stretching as he got out of bed and walked over to his suitcase, which lay sombrely upon a small wooden desk in the corner of the room, then rummaged through it to find a worn polaroid photograph, its corners creased from travelling in a suitcase for numerous hours.
On the back of the photo the words ‘James, Peter and Sirius, taken by Marlene, June 1977,’ had been neatly penned by none other than a certain Marlene herself.
Sirius didn’t want to be in Wales for the summer, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. He’d much’ve preferred to stay back in Bath; he knows his way around there. This year he’d wanted to be able to go and visit James or Peter, or to sneak out of the house into town, but instead he was in an entirely different country, in an entirely different town on the coast of South Wales. How could he sneak out if he didn’t know where to go? He’d’ve rathered to even stay back at school in Edinburgh.
He flipped the photograph over, only to be greeted by his friends’ faces for what only an extremely generous-natured person could call a second, as a voice piped up suddenly from the doorframe.
“Sirius?” the hushed voice whispered quietly.
Sirius dropped the photograph instantly, looking up to be greeted by a young boy’s eyes the same sea-like blue as his. It was his brother, dressed in black trousers and an emerald cable-knit jumper which must’ve been far too thick for the humid weather. He wore a fatigued and upset expression from his early rousing and stood in the doorframe, as though he were driven by sheer anxiety.
“Regulus, what are you doing up so early?” Sirius asked, observing the way his brother was playing with his hands nervously as he walked into Sirius’ room and sat down on a wooden chair by his desk.
“I couldn’t sleep, obviously.” He explained matter-of-factly, “I could hear you walking across your floor from my room, so I thought I’d come and talk to you.”
“Reg, if Mother sees you in here, she’s gonna kill you,” Sirius told him, a weak look of fright in his eyes.
“She won’t. You and I both know that she’s a heavy sleeper; it’s unsurprising considering how much she screams during the day.” He laughed lowly.
“Of course she is, the right wench.” Sirius snorted before throwing himself down on his bed with a sigh. “Why did we have to come to Wales anyway?”
“You know we have to be here to attend Bellatrix’s wedding, Sirius.” Regulus stated plainly.
“But it’s so boring. We can’t even read half the names of towns here. Why didn’t Bella decide to get married in Edinburgh or something?”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you wanna meet up with Potter and Pettigrew. Look on the bright side, though; it is sunnier here, there aren’t any heatwaves in Bath as of now.”
“Yeah, and we have to wear bloody trousers and shirts in this heat.” Sirius complained, sitting up on his bed and fiddling with the cuff of his pyjamas.
“Might be nice to be somewhere else for a change though.”
“I S’pose…” Sirius mumbled, a strand of hair falling from his untidy plait he’d kept in whilst asleep.
“Look, I know it’s tough dealing with our parents, but at least now we have more excuses to leave the house now that we’re on holiday,” said Regulus, who walked over to Sirius and sat down next to him.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Sirius replied, the sun peeking out from his window.
James and Peter were probably at home, asleep and comfortable without a single notion of anxiety.
Sirius wished he could say the same. He missed his friends, he missed listening to music, he missed the version of him that he’d left behind in Scotland.
“I miss school.” Sirius whispered, breaking the silence as he thought out loud.
“Me too,” said his brother, his head on Sirius’ shoulder now.
* * *
The godawful remainder of Sirius’ morning was spent cradling over wedding preparations, his mother’s voice forever ringing in his ears after her incessant yelling at him to fix the arrangement of the flowers, which were apparently ‘strewn’ around the ballroom, in order to prepare ‘an appropriate setting for Bellatrix’s reception.’
As the late midafternoon arrived with its insufferable heat and deep blue skies, there came several taps at the door.
“Sirius,” snapped a large, prominent man whose cold blue eyes stared chillingly at the boy,” go and answer the door. I expect that Mr. Rodolphus Lestrange has arrived.”
Sirius nodded shyly, “Yes, Father,” he replied in a fainted volume, his head held low.
“Fix your posture. And don’t murmur—you sound unconfident and shy,” the man barked.
Sirius passed many portraits and lavish artwork as he made for the door, cold air surrounding him for the first time that day. He walked to the etched dark-oak front door and twisted the doorknob, his hands shaky as the door opened.
“Welcome, Mr. Lestrange,” he said, not allowing himself to look the towering man before him in the eye, for it was too much of a risk to be scolded on the first day of the trip.
“Well? Aren’t you going to bring my luggage inside?” The man snarled, his hands folded.
“My apologies,” Sirius replied meekly, “Sir,” he added.
“All three of my suitcases are inside the car, Sirius.” Rodolphus Lestrange muttered as he pushed past Sirius and into the house.
Sirius pulled his hair back into a low bun, tying it with the black hair bobble around his wrist. Since he’d gotten home for the summer, his mother had cut most of his hair off. She’d claimed it was indecent, and inappropriate for a boy, although it wasn’t as if she’d have a notion about propriety.
Steadily, he opened the boot of the car and lowered all three suitcases onto the floor—why the man needed three suitcases, Sirius didn’t know—and wheeled them over to the porch of the manor.
Sirius made for the nitid car, and before closing the boot, realised that he was all alone. It dawned on him that he could quite easily leave now without a single person saying anything at all, provided that he wasn’t gone for too long, of course. And so, without any hesitation, he slowly crept through the front hedges and down the pavement until the house was completely out of sight.
During his seventeen years on Earth, Sirius Black had had many stupid ideas—this was most definitely one of the stupidest yet. He’d not any idea where anything was—having never been to Wales before—and so he’d no clue where to go. All he had was a measly five-pound-note in his pocket and a spare bobby pin. Loud was the gravel on the floor as he trod through it only to stop at a corner shop by a petrol station.
The sound of an old, ragged bell greeted Sirius as he sauntered through the door to the corner shop. It was a narrow shop, with only a few aisles full of necessities. Sirius nosed through the aisles to find the sweet section, then picked up a packet of chocolate buttons, for Regulus, and then a Mars bar for himself.
At the checkout stood a boy who appeared no younger than Sirius, strands of his sandy brown hair falling in his face as he typed on a dusty old computer which lay on the counter next to a coffee machine. Sunlight from a nearby window peeked through and hit the side of the boy’s face, illuminating not only a faded scar on the right side of his face, but also each and every freckle which danced about the boy’s crooked nose.
Sirius cleared his throat and placed the chocolate on the counter as the boy looked up at him half-grinning. “Hi, uh, a latte—one sugar— and these,” he signalled to the chocolate with his head. “please”
“No problem.” The boy smiled, his accent heavy as he spoke, “are you new around here?” He asked as he picked up a styrofoam cup and placed it under the coffee machine.
“Am I that obvious?” Sirius laughed softly, which the boy returned, his laugh quiet and light, “No, I’m from Bath—my family’s down here for my cousin’s wedding.”
“Ah,” the boy acknowledged, nodding his head, “are you enjoying your holiday so far then?”
“Haven’t been allowed to leave the house really,” Sirius said, “or even dress like I’m on holiday. Mother says shorts are ‘improper’.”
“Bloody hell, you must be warm then; what is it? 25°? It’s a bloody heatwave here,” he noted, turning off the coffee machine and picking up the cup.
“You’re telling me.”
“Sorry,” he laughed bashfully, staring at the floor, then turned to Sirius once again, “I didn’t get your name?”
“Sirius.” He introduced himself, “I never got yours either?”
“Remus.” The boy replied, picking up a black sharpie and removing the lid.
“Ah, a person with a name just as ridiculous as mine,” jested Sirius, “I think we’ll get along.”
“I think we will,” Remus grinned as he scribbled down the word ‘Sirius’ on the side of the styrofoam cup, then asking “I’d ask if we could meet up after my shift, but I promised my friend I’d cover her shift, so I finish at eight…,” he trailed off.
“I could probably make it,” Sirius said, perhaps too quickly. Was he even sure he could make it? Surely somebody would notice he was gone at eight. Although, the family would most likely have finished preparation for the day and would be dining by then.
“Are you sure?” Remus asked, eyebrows furrowed, concern spread about his face, “Wouldn’t your mother mind?”
“She wouldn’t have to know,” he grinned, his blue eyes wide and full of hope.
“Well, if you’re sure,” smiled Remus, holding out Sirius’ coffee.
“I’m sure,” Sirius said, picking up the coffee and chocolate, along with his change that Remus handed him, “thank you,” he said, “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” Remus grinned, holding up a hand in parting as Sirius opened the door to the shop, and exited quietly with a soft smile.
And suddenly to wait four hours for every clock to reach eight o’clock at night felt like waiting an eternity and a half to Sirius.
* * *
As Sirius walked through the back door of the manor, he was greeted unpleasantly and most unexpectedly by a sharp whisper.
“Where the bloody hell have you been!?”
“Jesus Christ, Reg, it’s like you want to give me a heart attack!”
“Well at the moment I do! Sneaking out!? You’re lucky you weren’t out for so long! Can you imagine Mother and Father’s reactions if you’d gotten caught sneaking away!?”
“Calm down,” Sirius rolles his eyes, “I only left for- what- twenty minutes?”
“Forty-five actually.” Regulus corrected him.
“That’s hardly anything. Plus, I bought you something,” he held out the packet of chocolate buttons to Regulus, who stared at the packet for a few seconds, then took them from his hand.
“You’re lucky I haven’t told them.”
“You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t,” Sirius smiled at the ground, knowing he could trust Regulus.
“Oh, shut up,” Regulus pushed him, laughing.