Gryffindor Black brothers

Prologue

Regulus does not like Poppea. He knows she's encouraged to practice a mask of polite indifference in public, of course—he is too—but Poppea overcompensates and projects more supercilious apathy than anything else. And she kicked her cat once for scratching her.

"Barty got on the train before me to find an empty compartment," Regulus lies.

Cissa nods. "Wonderful."

Of course it is. Barty will probably be a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw, and if Regulus ends up in the same house as him, he has determined that they could be acquaintances. The Crouch family isn't anywhere near as old as most of the people Regulus is encouraged to spend time with, but Barty's father is climbing ranks quickly at the Ministry, so it's permitted.

Regulus isn't sure he likes Barty that much either, but at least he's not annoying, just a bit dull.

"I'll see you at the Sorting, then," Cissa says, with a sort of glint in her eye that Regulus imagines is meant to be conspiratorial, as if they all know what will happen to him at the Sorting. "Would you like a Feather light charm for your trunk?"

"No, thank you, Father did one already." Regulus smiles, because even if Cissa wants him to be a Slytherin, at least she's nice. "Have a nice trip."

"You as well." She steps around him and sets off toward the prefect compartments, robes swirling behind her.

Cissa is tall enough that people notice her when she's coming. She doesn't have to wait for anyone to get out of her way.

That's settled. If Cissa ever finds out Regulus didn't sit with Barty on the train, it'll already be too late for her to do something about it. Anyway, he thinks she'd understand him sitting with Sirius. Everyone knows Cissa misses Andy the most. Its good Bella has graduated already. She sneers at Sirius.

Regulus keeps walking. Trying to keep his head down as he was before his cousin had called to him. He hears Sirius before he sees him, voice raised like he's talking over his entire compartment.

"And then— no, James, I said we're bloody getting there—Bella said she thought Malfoy would waste his whole fortune by the time he turns thirty."

Oh, yes. Regulus knows this story. He walks a bit faster and tucks the parchment back into his pocket. He doesn't need directions when Sirius's voice is practically a beacon.

"And Cissa hexed her skin green for being jealous that Malfoy has a fortune in the first place. That's verbatim." Someone laughs as Sirius keeps talking. "And Bella couldn't remove it for a week. And I bribed Reg to get a picture, since he's sneaky—"

Regulus knocks on the door to their compartment and slides it open.

Sirius, lying on one of the benches with his feet kicked up on the wall, looks up and grins. "Fabulous timing."

The other people in the compartment look up at Regulus in eerie unison, like how Andy and Bella used to say the same thing at the exact same time.

He's never met any of these people before, but he can guess, based on Sirius's descriptions. James Potter looks like he just rolled out of bed. (He's shoved almost entirely to one end of the bench he and Sirius are sharing, so Sirius can lie down, but James doesn't look like he cares.) The short boy by the window must be Peter Pettigrew, open curiosity on his round face. Thus, by process of elimination, the tall, thin one closest to the door is Remus Lupin. He looks guarded. Huh.

There's also a tawny owl in a cage between Pettigrew and Lupin, which Regulus doesn't know anything about, but he's fairly sure it's not important.

"Hello," Regulus says. H