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fruitcoops · 1 year

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I miss my sister so very much (she's in college) so your sibling fics are the ones I revisit the most often, you write them so well! I was wondering if you wanted to write something about Sirius and Reg playing when Reg is just a few months old and Sirius witnesses Reg saying his first word? Or maybe taking his first step, whatever you prefer. Only if you want to ofc, thank you!

Happy birthday, Sirius! Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Anastasia is mine <3

There was a birthday cake in the kitchen, Sirius presumed. He thought he had seen a big white box earlier that afternoon, the kind from the bakery that stamped their name in swirly gold letters and wrapped silk ribbon around the outside. The bows were always picture-perfect; the cakes were more shimmery decoration than substance. Sirius had never been allowed to try one, of course, but the poorly-hidden disappointment on guests’ faces upon the first bite told him he wasn’t missing much. Briefly, he wondered whether he should be sad about not getting to eat his own birthday cake, regardless of the taste.

Another round of laughter siphoned from the closed door of his father’s study and he wrinkled his nose. Never mind.

“It’s not my interest,” he declared. That was a big, new phrase Anastasia had taught him just that morning. Seven year olds need to know big words, she had advised with a secret smile. It makes you sound as smart as you are. He wondered if his cousins would find it as impressive when they visited tomorrow. Surely he was much smarter than Bellatrix had been when she was seven.

Regulus stared up at him, squishy and wide-eyed and confused, then burst into a peal of laughter that made Sirius’ stomach feel funny. A happy kind of funny, like when the birds on the electric line all took off at once. He scooted forward on the carpet and reached toward Sirius’ face with a hopeful noise, kicking in excitement when Sirius lifted him to sit in his lap.

“Anastasia?” he asked quietly. She looked up and set her book aside, leaning forward to hear better. Sirius loved it when she did that. It meant she was really listening. “May we please watch cartoons?”

“No, not right now.”

“Please?”

“We have to be quiet.” She tapped her index finger to her lips with a wink. “You’re the big surprise for your papa’s friends, birthday boy. We can’t spoil a surprise this soon!”

Sirius frowned. “But it’s my birthday. I want to watch cartoons.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s my birthday.” Something hot and itchy rose at the back of Sirius’ neck and he scowled deeper, tightening his hold around Regulus’ soft middle. It didn’t feel like angry and it didn’t feel like sad but altogether something bad that he shouldn’t have to feel today. “It’s my day, Anastasia.”

Anastasia pressed her lips together with a look to the study door, then sat down across from him on the carpet. “I can see you’re getting frustrated—” Frustrated, that’s what this feeling is. “—but cartoons will be too loud right now. What if we go upstairs with Regulus and play cars?”

Sirius chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Regulus was getting wiggly already, and he did like playing cars. Sitting downstairs until his parents found the right time for the birthday surprise didn’t sound nearly as fun. “Alright,” he agreed, getting to his feet and looking down. “What do you think?”

Regulus held on to the leg of his scratchy pants for balance and toddled a couple feet before sitting heavily on his backside, then reached up toward Sirius once again.

“I know you can walk further than that,” Sirius sighed. Honestly, it was exasperating. At barely a year old, his little brother was as heavy as a Christmas turkey.

“I can carry him, Sirius,” Anastasia laughed when they reached the first landing.

Sirius shook his head and readjusted to hold Regulus under the arms, letting him hang limp and giggly. “It’s fine,” he panted. “I won’t drop him.”

“I never thought you would.”

Regulus decided enough was enough at the top of the second flight and squirmed, kicking his fleece-clad feet and making unhappy noises until Sirius let him down to wobble along the hallway. “He just started doing that last month,” Sirius informed Anastasia. “He’s fast. Maman says I started walking earlier, but I was slower. I think I’m better at it than he is.”

Anastasia arched a brow, but Sirius could see her smiling. “You’ve had a lot more practice.”

He shrugged. “I guess. Regulus, my room, remember?”

Regulus made a noise and turned, using the bookshelf to balance. Sirius heard Anastasia’s surprised sound and looked up at her curiously. “He understands,” she said. “Interesting.”

“Of course he understands.”

Her eyes flickered down to him. “I—well, I didn’t expect it, is all.”

Sirius frowned. He didn’t like it when people said things like that. “Regulus is very smart.”

“You’re both very intelligent,” Anastasia agreed with a gentle ruffle of his hair. “Alright, go pick your cars and I’ll get the map out.”

It had been fifty-three minutes since they came upstairs. They had played cops and robbers, cowboy chase, and city—he had sorted all his cars by color and then by size, and Anastasia taught him the English words for all of the categories. “This is much more fun than a party,” Sirius had declared after a rousing car chase through the plastic zoo animals. Anastasia had looked a little sad, then, but smiled anyway and told him she was glad he thought so.

That didn’t make a lot of sense, if Sirius was being honest. Why would he want to sit in a room of grownups when he could play cars with Anastasia and Regulus? What stupid person would think that was fun? Best to leave the boring stuff to his parents. It was nice of them to entertain the guests so he could go play.

Regulus wasn’t loud most days; he only cried when he was hungry or missed a nap, and otherwise seemed content to stick to his humming or nothing at all. Sirius understood him perfectly fine either way. But he was louder today, pointing to cars when Anastasia named English colors or sizes—small, medium, big, very big—and babbling. They clapped every time. It made Regulus smile, mostly toothless, and that was enough of a reward.

After cars, they watched the snow falling against the sunset, and once it was dark, Anastasia brought them back downstairs for dinner in the kitchen. Sirius suffered through fifteen minutes of being paraded around the guests to be cooed over and get his cheeks pinched by women older than his grandmother before making a quick escape when the conversation turned back to his father.

The moon hung like a silver dollar in the corner of his bedroom window. The three of them sat on the carpet, Regulus in his lap and Anastasia’s arm around him, tucked up cozy under a blanket from last Christmas. “This was a good birthday,” Sirius said, snuggling into her side. Dinner had made him sleepy. Between the two of them, he was sandwiched in warmth; it was too easy to let his eyelids droop.

“Do you feel older? Seven is a big birthday.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yes. It’s my lucky number.”

“Hmm. Mine is…” Sirius thought for a moment while Regulus played with his hands. “Mine is six, I think. I liked being six.”

“I did, too. That was a long time ago for me, though.”

“It was yesterday for me.”

“I know, Sirius,” she laughed.

“Soos.”

Sirius felt Anastasia lean down to Regulus’ level at the same time he did. “Reggie? Was that you?”

Regulus pulled on the cuff of Sirius’ fancy shirt. “Soos,” he repeated, shaking it like a rattle.

“…shirt?”

“I think…I think he’s trying to say your name,” Anastasia said quietly.

Oh. Excitement leapt in his chest and he turned Regulus around. Chubby fists waved before settling on Sirius’ front; Regulus leaned in and bonked their foreheads together with a shrieking giggle. “Soos!”

“Sirius,” he corrected.

“Soos.”

“See—ree—oos.”

“Soos!” Regulus stretched it out into a half dozen syllables and Sirius turned to Anastasia, beaming, before Regulus grabbed his cheeks and brought his attention back. “Soos.”

“Sirius.” He touched his own nose, then pressed on Regulus’. “Regulus.”

“Goose.”

“Close enough.”

“Soos and Goose.” Anastasia shook her head, bright-painted lips in a broad smile, and Sirius saw her eyes go shiny for just a second before she blinked it away. “I’ll have to put that one in the book, hmm?”

“Does it count?”

“As a first word? Of course it does.”

“Well, it’s not quite right,” Sirius pointed out, though he couldn’t tear his attention from Regulus’ careful mapping of his face. He was back to humming, little beeps of sound every few seconds.

“It doesn’t have to be just right. It’s enough that he tried, isn’t it? And we know what he means.”

Sirius considered it. “Is that your present for me?” he asked Regulus. “Saying my name?”

“Soos.”

“It counts.” Sirius adjusted his grip so they were eye-to-eye, close enough for Regulus to grab his ears. “That is my favorite birthday present. Thank you.”

Regulus went for his nose next and Sirius jerked back, startled. “Soos!”

“That is not my interest,” he said firmly.

Anastasia’s bark of laughter was louder than any cartoons would have been.

#sirius black #regulus black #anastasia #sweater weather #baby sirius #baby regulus #black brothers #birthday #first word #walburga and orion pay attention to your kid or face my wrath

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