Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Twelve: I'd Rather Perish.

Nearly four weeks later, Freya Grey was back at the Black house. Not at as a dinner party guest, but as Regulus's friend. It seemed rather odd to both of them for her to come yet again, despite the fact that they really were close friends. Regulus preferred keeping both halves of his life apart from one another, while Freya had never been to a friend's house before.

"Did you draw all these?" Her onyx eyes scanned over the pictures all over his walls. Charcoal figures marked up the walls next to Slytherin memorabilia.

A small, contained smile came onto his face, but there was some sadness in it. "It's important to have a hobby."

"They're beautiful." She marveled at one of the Hogwarts towers.

Freya could follow any potions recipe she found and conjure whatever charms she wanted, but she was most definitely not an artist. Painting, drawing, and the horrific sculpting were far out of her expertise and patience. Nonetheless, she never tired of seeing Reg's work. Even when he was first starting out and his dragons looked more like bloated lizards vomiting water, she found it fascinating.

Then she noticed, something was different from these pieces. A certain tame and precision, that made her curious about the work he did in the common room. "Did you ever finish that drawing of grindylows?"

Silently, Regulus went to the bottom of one of his drawers and pulled out a sketchbook. He moved in an odd manner to hold back his excitement to a smaller degree. He sat on the bed, one leg bent to the side and the other dangling off the edge, and Freya followed in suit.

Flipping through the pages, he landed on the one she was referring to.

Gauging her reaction, he gently flipped the page to the next one.

"I'll never know how you do it." She murmured.

"You could do it, too, if you so desired." He reminded her teasingly, letting her go through the pages. "Of course, you'd have to deal with the charcoal smudges."

"And risk my blouse?" She shook her head. "I'd rather perish."

After a few minutes, she felt Regs turn ridged and carefully close the sketchbook. Her eyes moved to the doorway and saw Walburga Black standing there with her carved smile.

"Hello, mother." A tone appeared in Reg's voice that made it seem like he was a different person.

"Hello, dear." Walburga smiled as warmly as it seemed possible for someone of her stature. Then her hawk-like grey eyes slid over to the girl next to him. "Freya, you should stay for supper... if that's okay with your mother, of course."

Freya met her gaze smoothly. "I appreciate your hospitality, but..." She saw Regs tense slightly however, he remained very passive. Then she understood she wasn't being asked; she was being told, and it irritated her. But still, she kept Regs in mind as she continued. "It'd be my pleasure to join you."

Approvingly, Walburga nodded. "Kreacher will let you know when supper is ready."

Then she disappeared from the doorway, and Reg's shoulders unknotted. This sat poorly in Freya's stomach, but she reminded herself things were different in this house.

Regs cleared his throat and began tucking his sketchbook away. "Perhaps we should continue with the tour of the house."

As Regulus listed off the rooms of the house, which seemed endless, Freya looked like she was expecting a test after it. How could one family need so many rooms? And have names for all of them? Additionally, she was rather disappointed in their literary section, a few books, mostly non-fiction and all pure-blood authors.