Chapter Text
Down the halls of the Ministry of Magic, Sirius Black strode with the confidence of someone who owned everything upon which he trod. Clerks and lesser officials scattering out of his way only reinforced this notion, their robes fluttering like nervous birds as they scurried about. It was just as well they all avoided him, Sirius was so angry he’d probably hex the first wizard who crossed his ire--or even his path. He stormed into the central atrium towards the dark-haired figure sitting placidly in the corner of the great room, a cane laying on the bench beside them.
“That thrice-damned bastard,” Sirius growled without so much as a greeting.
“It didn’t go well, I take it,” said Regulus dryly as he levered himself up into a standing position. He was leaning hard on his cane, apparently exhausted by their long day at the Ministry.
In his head, Sirius wished Bellatrix a most horrible stay in Azkaban. Maybe he’d bribe a guard to spoil her food.
“No, it didn’t,” Sirius almost snapped.
“I told you, Dumbledore has the Chief Warlock in his pocket,” Regulus said, ambling alongside Sirius, who had slowed his pace considerably. “Between that and my… youthful indiscretions, they’re never going to approve you as Harry’s guardian.”
Sirius scowled. “Hidebound old bastards, half of them subscribed to Voldemort’s ideology behind closed doors anyway.”
Regulus winced at the name, and Sirius bit back a sigh.
“Come on, let’s go home,” said Sirius. Regulus tired so quickly these days. If his little brother weren't careful, he’d start shaking again and panic Sirius even more. “I’ll have Kreacher make dumplings.”
Regulus coughed a harsh barking sound that made Sirius’s nerves set on edge. But he was smiling when he finished the coughing bout.
“You’re doting on me, big brother.”
Sirius snorted. “Hardly. The dumplings were my favorite too, remember?”
“Of course,” Regulus said agreeably and yet somehow still patronizing.
Sirius scowled at him, both of them acutely aware of the unspoken currents of conversation. This was not a new argument, and Sirius didn’t care if Regulus felt Sirius was coddling him. In Sirius’s mind, his brother’s health was more important than his pride.
People around the lobby were trying to stare at them surreptitiously, and Sirius didn’t have the patience for it. He clapped a hand on Regulus’s shoulder and Apparated them home.
"Masters, welcome home,” Kreacher intoned with a bow seconds after Sirius and Regulus popped into the main parlor. “Is you preferring dinner now or at the usual time?”
“The usual time, Kreacher,” Regulus spoke before Sirius.
“Regulus needs a little something before then,” Sirius said and tolerated Regulus’s glower with the ease of long practice.
“Of course, Master Sirius,” Kreacher said, and then added reproachfully, “Master Regulus is most irresponsible with his health.”
Regulus sighed the sigh of the greatly put upon as Kreacher popped away to the kitchen. “The two of you don’t have to mother me so.”
“Someone ought to since our mother wasn’t much for it.”
Regulus snorted.
Kreacher had reappeared with a tray carrying a vial of Pepper-Up potion and a small plate of apple slices with a bowl of honey.
Regulus grimaced but obediently ate a slice of apple with honey before he drank his potion. If he took it on an empty stomach, it was an even chance he’d be able to keep it down, as they knew from experience.
At least Regulus was better than he used to be, there was no question about that. Sirius had spent a great deal of money securing the absolute best care for his brother. But it wasn’t good enough, not yet. Regulus still got tired too easily, fell ill too often, and felt too much pain from his curse wound.
Sirius’s eyes slid to Regulus’s right thigh, where Bellatrix’s curse had struck. Regulus would always walk with a limp, but it was the rest of it that truly concerned Sirius. With Apparition most physical disabilities ceased to matter, and if Regulus was too tired even for that, then Kreacher could ferry him about the house with ease.
All the same, if Sirius ever found himself alone with Bellatrix…
“What’s that?” Sirius asked of the letter Regulus was scanning.
“A letter from Narcissa.”
“Oh? What’s darling Cissy have to say?” Sirius drawled. “Something flattering about me, I’m sure.”
Regulus hummed noncommittally.
“She says that Draco’s teething has been driving her up the walls before she told their house elf to start feeding him half-frozen bananas.”
“Huh.” Sirius stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Andromeda did that for Dora.”
“I suppose that means they met for tea without us,” said Regulus after a moment, his eyes still scanning the letter. “Oh, to be a fly on the wall…”
“Or a dog in the next room,” said Sirius, making Regulus snort in amusement. “Good, then, that’s taken care of.”
“Such a responsible paterfamilias, taking care of our cousin when her husband gets himself thrown in Azkaban,” Regulus said only somewhat mockingly.
Neither of them cared much what happened to Lucius. Besides, he’d not been convicted as a Death Eater, just for using an Unforgivable, and the least of them at that, so he’d be up for parole in a decade or so.
If it hadn’t been the Imperius curse, though, he’d have never seen the light of day again, no matter how much money he threw around at his trial.
Sirius made a face. “Tosser. Go polish your Order of Merlin.”
Regulus grinned across at him, before a fit of coughing hit. This one didn’t sound as bad as it had in the Ministry Atrium, but it still made Sirius feel on edge. He wanted to do something, all this legal maneuvering for Harry and all the Healers for Regulus was so much paperwork. Sirius wanted to run and jump and throw some hexes at someone. Possibly Albus Dumbledore, although Sirius was under no illusions as to how a duel between the two of them would end.
Trying to outwit Dumbledore was bad enough, having to duel him would be a disaster.
“So, what’s the next approach,” Regulus asked after he’d taken a cup of tea from Kreacher.
Sirius didn’t have to ask what he was talking about, as he waved Kreacher away. “I don’t know, the solicitors tell me we’ve exhausted most of the likely legal means of action, and anything further would probably just be wasting money.”
“Well, we certainly have enough of it, now,” Regulus drawled. “Narcissa also agreed to divvy up the Lestrange vault.”
“WHAT?” Sirius leaped up from his chair. “Bloody hell, Reg! You lead with the bit about teething babies instead of that?”
“Well, it was only the one baby,” Regulus said, his dark eyes glittering with amusement.
“Absolute wanker,” Sirius said fondly. “Go play with your potions. I’ve got Galleons to claim.”
Lucius’s idiocy was their gain. Without her scheming husband around, Narcissa couldn’t afford to fight the Black Family lawyers and Sirius’s claim to Bellatrix’s estate. It was a petty bit of revenge, but Sirius was going to derive a great deal of pleasure from taking his third of the Lestrange vault.
Maybe he’d even exchange some of the gold and make some donations to a Muggle hospital or something. Bellatrix would hate that.
The thought gave Sirius a feral smile.
“You know…” Regulus said in that slow tone that told Sirius his brother thought he was being clever. “There is another court we could take Dumbledore to task in.”
“What, Muggle court?” asked Sirius derisively. What an odd suggestion from Regulus.
“No, you twit, I’m talking about the court of public opinion!”
“Listen to you, think you’re so clever,” drawled Sirius, his mind racing. “I’m not sure… maybe. Let’s try some other things first.”
Sirius didn’t like that kind of underhanded scheming that came so naturally to Regulus, but he wouldn’t leave James’s son to be raised by Lily’s horrid Muggle relatives. Not if he could help it.