FicWad

On the next day, which was the first Monday since he had turned seven years old, it was time for Regulus' first lesson, to learn the letters in the alphabet, the different numbers, how to read, write and do basic calculations. It was time for him to learn all those things that grown-ups knew how to do.

And it was nerve-wracking.

Regulus sat there in the small study, his back straight, his hands neatly on the desk as he waited for the lesson to start, and he was feeling incredibly nervous. His big brother sat next to him, slouching in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. Sirius was smart and already knew how to do most everything, Regulus thought. He needed to be better than him. He had to prove himself. Sirius was the firstborn, the heir, he got away with a lot of things. But he... he was just a spare.

His father walked in, a stack of parchment in his hands. "Good morning, boys," he greeted them. "Are you ready for your lesson?"

Regulus nodded eagerly, ready to show his father what he could do, ready to learn more and more and to get as wise and smart as his parents.

His father placed a piece of parchment in front of Regulus and some in front of his brother. "Today we shall begin with the basics," he said, turning his attention to Regulus in particular. "Regulus, we will start with the alphabet. Do you know what that is?"

Regulus nodded, feeling excitement and pride well up inside. "Yes, Father. It's the letters we use to form words."

"Very good," his father said, and Regulus' heart skipped a beat. He couldn't afford to make mistakes. "Now, let's go through each letter, shall we?"

Regulus leaned in, looking at the parchment in front of him. There were all sorts of shapes on the parchment that seemed vaguely familiar.

His father pointed to the first shape, 'A', and said: "This is the letter 'A.' It makes the 'ah' sound, like in 'Ah-stronomy'."

Sirius immediately continued. "And 'B' is for 'Brother,' and 'C' is for 'Cauldron', and—"

"That's right, Sirius. But this is for Regulus. I should hope that after nearly two years the alphabet would come easy to you," his father sighed before turning his attention back to Regulus. "Regulus, your turn. Can you tell me what sound this makes?" He pointed to the next shape, a 'D'.

Regulus furrowed his brows, thinking hard. "Um... 'D'... like in... um... 'D-dark Arts'?" He hesitantly answered, unsure if he got it right.

"Close, Regulus," his father laughed. "The letter 'D' does make the 'duh' sound, like in 'Dungeon.' Well done."

Regulus beamed at his praise. Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as he had initially thought after all. His father continued to guide him through the alphabet, explaining the sounds and words associated with each letter.

Next, it was important for them to write the letters down. Sirius rolled his eyes as their father announced writing the alphabet was next, but Regulus knew better than to comment on it. He had to show Father he was serious about this lesson—and he was! Oh how he longed to get good at this so he could be just like a real grown-up.

Their father held out a quill to them both. Regulus reached out and held the quill in his hand, staring at it in awe. It was made of a black feather and had a golden tip, and it was beautiful. He had never held a quill before, not to write with at least.

"First, we must understand the importance of proper penmanship," his father explained, taking out his own quill. "Watch carefully."

He dipped the quill into the inkwell and began to write the letters of the alphabet on the parchment with elegant strokes, it was like a work of art, how careful he was with every stroke, every movement of his hand carefully considered.

"Now, it is your turn."

He carefully dipped the quill into the inkwell, mimicking his father's actions. Holding his breath, he pressed the quill to the parchment and attempted to form the letters he had seen his father write, but the ink was blotting and smearing across the page. He looked to Sirius' parchment, and saw him scribbling away with ease, creating those same beautiful letters his father had made. He felt the frustration burning inside him and he threw the quill down on the desk.

"Patience, my son," his father said, and Regulus looked up. His father gently took his hand in his own and guided it as they wrote the letters, together. "Writing is an art form, and it requires practice and precision. Take your time, and remember the importance of each move. Try it again."

Regulus took a deep breath and nodded, focusing on each letter as he formed them on the parchment. Slowly, his strokes became more controlled, and the letters began to look more like those he had seen his father write.

"Very good, Regulus."

Regulus beamed with confidence as he continued to write the letters until they lost their meaning and became nothing but little strokes on the paper, strokes that could be perfected.

They went over the meaning of the letters a final time before it was time for dinner. They had been writing all day and Regulus' hand hurt from the exercise.

But the next day, it was more of the same.

"Take hold of your quill and ink, and write your name at the top of the parchment." It was the first thing their father said as he entered the study. Regulus looked puzzled as he tried to figure out what letters fit his name, but Sirius was already writing.

His father approached him and knelt down next to his chair. "Regulus Arcturus Black," he said, carefully enunciating his name as he showed him yesterday's parchment. "We went over all the letters yesterday. Sound out your name, slowly, and write the right letters down."

Regulus grasped the quill, dipping it carefully into the inkwell, and started writing. The thick black liquid clung to the quill's tip as he carefully chose the letters to write. 'R', 'E', 'G', 'U', 'L', 'U', 'S'.

"Very good," his father commented. He stood up and walked over to Sirius as Regulus moved on to the 'A' of his middle name.

Eventually, Regulus finished writing his full name, and looked up at his father who was standing over Sirius. His father turned to Regulus and looked down at his parchment.

"Well done! With practice, your penmanship will improve, and your name shall be written with the elegance befitting a true Black."

Regulus beamed up at his father, but before he could thank him for his words, his brother interrupted. "It's just a name, Father. Doesn't matter how fancy it looks," he scoffed.

His father's attention turned to Sirius, his proud smile fading and his usual stern expression taking its place. "Just a name? We are Blacks, Sirius. To carry the name Black means something, to carry it is to represent our entire House. And it is essential we carry the name Black with the dignity it deserves, which includes taking proper care of the way we write it out."

Regulus looked to his brother to see how he would respond to the wise words their father spoke, but to his surprise, Sirius only shrugged. "Whatever you say, Father."

Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop him from saying something about it. Sirius' little comments like these made his blood boil sometimes. Didn't he understand? He hoped his father would say something about it, but knew he wouldn't. Unlike Mother, who could yell and argue about something for days on end, Father preferred to drop a subject if he sensed he wouldn't get anywhere with it. So it didn't really surprise Regulus when his father simply sighed and turned his attention back to the lesson.

"All right, let us move on to numbers. Regulus, tell me, what comes after the number three hundred and eighty-three?"

He furrowed his brow, concentrating hard. He knew Sirius had told him a trick a few weeks ago, something about ignoring everything and just focusing on the last number. The last number was three, and after three came four. "Um... three hundred eighty-four?"

His father nodded. "Correct. But can you write it down?"

The hours passed, by the end of the lesson both he and his brother's parchments were filled with letters and numbers. Regulus was very proud of his achievements, feeling like he could conquer the world with the kind of progress he was making.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and before long, the end of the year was in sight. Regulus had settled into his new life quite well, enjoying his days of learning and his weekends spent mastering the art of being a young Black under the guidance of his parents.

The end of the year brought many exciting events for Regulus, but the most important one was Christmas, because with Christmas came the annual Hogwarts Christmas break, and with that, the return of his cousins. He couldn't wait for them to come back, especially Narcissa—she had promised him they could go back to the burial chamber. Maybe they could even take Sirius!

But just a week before the holidays would start, Kreacher approached him, a letter in his hand. "Master Regulus has post."

His very first letter! He eagerly took it from Kreacher, tearing it open and unfolding the parchment. His excitement disappeared and his heart sank with every sentence he read.

'Dear Regulus,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits, I also hope I am not mistaken and you are well on your way with your reading lessons. If not, I am sure you can find someone to read this letter to you.

I write to you because I have to break my promise. I will not be able to come home, my parents believe it will be good for me if I spend some time with Lucius Malfoy and his family, and they invited me to stay with them during Christmas break, so that is what I must do.

Please know that I am thinking of you constantly and that my heart aches to be home with you and the others. I have to make the most of this time at the Malfoys, as difficult as it may be, but I will eagerly await the day I can come home.

How are you spending the Christmas break, dear cousin? I hope you are being taken care of and that you will enjoy yourself, even in my absence.

With all my love,
Cissy'

The letters became blurry as he read the letter through his tears as he realised his cousin wasn't coming home, and they wouldn't go back to the burial chamber, and he would have to spend Christmas without her. All because of Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella and their stupid ideas.

He crumbled the letter in his hands in anger as he thought about the last time he saw his aunt and uncle, just a few weeks ago at Sirius' birthday. They didn't even tell him they were planning this while they knew how much he had looked forward to this Christmas with her.

"She's not coming home for Christmas," Regulus mumbled, looking back at Kreacher. "She's staying at the Malfoys, it's not fair!"

Kreacher just looked at him.

"What do I do?" Regulus asked.

But Kreacher didn't answer. Regulus sighed, knowing his house elf was good company, but the worst to ask for advice, he would just promote whatever you tell him to. He had no mind of his own.

"Oh, just leave then!" Regulus said, throwing the letter at the elf, who disappeared.

Regulus fell back on his bed, hugging his pillow as he let out a cry. Why did this have to happen to him?

After a while, he got himself together, picking up the letter and leaving the room to find someone who could comfort him. His first option was Sirius, but his room was empty.

With a heavy heart, Regulus made his way downstairs to find his parents. He found them in the drawing room, and they were talking about something that must have been very serious and important, judging their faces as Regulus barged into the room without knocking, something he would normally never do.

"Regulus, what's wrong?" His father asked before his mother could explode.

Regulus handed him the letter, his voice trembling as he spoke, "Narcissa won't be coming home for Christmas. She's staying with the Malfoys."

His father read it silently, then sighed. "I know it's hard to understand this right now, Regulus, but sometimes grown-ups have to make difficult decisions. Narcissa's parents must have had their reasons, even if they seem unfair to you. The Malfoys are a very powerful and influential family, and especially in these times it is best to be friendly with them."

His mother knelt down in front of him. "Regulus, we may not have control over the decisions made by others, but we do have the power to be there for each other. We will make this Christmas special for you, I promise."

"But that isn't the same!"

"You'll understand when your older, that sometimes, more important things come up. Your aunt and uncle didn't do this to hurt you."

"Then why did they do this? And why didn't they tell me?" He let the tears fall freely now as he couldn't keep it in any longer. "W-why is this ha-happening?!"

His parents looked at each other, then back at Regulus. His mother stood up and lifted him into her arms, taking him to the sofa across the room. She sat down, with him on her lap. He buried his face into her, still crying silently.

They sat there until Regulus calmed down a little. He looked at his mother. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice still shaking slightly.

"You must understand that this kind of behaviour doesn't fit a man your age, especially not over something as simple as your cousin changing her plans," his mother said, her voice suddenly cold. "Your father and I are very disappointed in you."

Regulus looked at his father who had sat down at the desk, busy working on something. He either didn't notice or pretended he didn't, so Regulus turned back to his mother, who still looked at him, her eyes piercing through his own.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little stronger this time. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"Good boy. Now off you go," she said, putting him down again.

Regulus nodded and silently left the drawing room, though he didn't last long. Just after he closed the door behind him, the tears came again. Afraid that anyone might see them, he ran back up the stairs to his room.

"Woah, Reg, watch out!" Sirius called as Regulus ran past him, but Regulus had only one thing in mind; to get to his room as quickly as he could. He shouldn't be acting like this, he was a Black! But he just couldn't help himself.

"Reg!" He heard his brother call out as he entered his bedroom and closed the door behind him. "Reggie, come on, what's wrong?"

Regulus sat down against the door and started to sob loudly, unable to contain his tears any longer.

"Reg... let me in... whatever happened, it's okay."

"It's n-not," he replied in-between his sobs. "N-n-n..." but he didn't get the sentence out.

"Reg..."

Regulus crawled aside, and the door opened, with his brother stepping inside.

"Regulus!" His brother fell to his knees next to him and they hugged tightly. "Shh, it's okay," he said, stroking his hair. "It's okay."

As he calmed down for the second time that day, he told Sirius everything that had happened. The letter, his parents' reaction, everything.

"It's okay to feel sad about it, no matter what Mother and Father say."

Regulus held his brother tightly and as they sat there on the floor, he slowly fell asleep, all the efforts to keep his tears in exhausting him.