HP: Hogwarts, but pro-generation

"stop."

An arrogant and angry voice echoed in the room. The tassels on the curtains trembled slightly. The owl that was dozing outside the window was startled awake. It screamed and flapped its wings away from its usual territory.

People coming and going on the street stopped to look at this place, but they did not stop because of the sound that was loud enough to penetrate the walls.

This strange phenomenon attracted more people - even though they passed by here every day and pointed at numbers 11 and 13 every day.

It seems like the day would be incomplete if I didn't do this.

"Come here." The owner of the voice lowered his voice, but the threat in his tone did not diminish. "You know the consequences of disobeying me, Sirius."

"Don't challenge me again." The wand in her or Walburga Black's hand seemed to be sparking. "I don't want you to feel the pain in your heart right now."

Sirius, who was standing outside the door, snorted coldly, a mocking arc appeared at the corner of his mouth, and the disdain in his eyes replaced any language.

This look irritated Walburga's sensitive and fragile nerves. She couldn't believe that the eldest son she had raised would treat her with such contempt.

Anger instantly filled her heart, "Heart-piercing..."

"Mom!" Regulus came out of the room in time to stop the furious Walburga. He looked at his mother who was crazy and hysterical in front of him carefully.

Fortunately, his appearance broke the stalemate between the two people in front of him, and it can also be said that he saved Sirius from the disaster he was about to face.

Regulus pondered for a moment, and before Walburga's patience was about to run out, he spoke: "Mom, will Sirius come with us to the party at the Lestrange's house?"

"Oh, yes, yes." Walburga withdrew his wand. "I forgot."

She gave an exaggerated smile. "How can someone who has been tortured by Cruciatus be able to attend a banquet perfectly the next day? Don't you think so, Leir?"

Regulus swallowed nervously, but Walburga didn't wait for Regulus to make any other response. She nodded on her own and cooperated as if she had suddenly realized something.

"Okay, go back to your rooms." She looked at Sirius and Regulus steadily, "Go back to your rooms."

Regulus breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled Sirius, who was still standing stubbornly in the same place, with a little dissatisfaction. He disobeyed his mother's wishes and pleaded for Sirius, but the other party did not move!

But a voice deeper inside him told him that he must take Sirius back to the room. He couldn't leave Sirius here.

Regulus didn't expect to be able to rescue his mother - forgive him for not being able to think of a better word - Sirius every time, but at least this time he would be safe.

Sirius finally moved as his brother kept pulling him. It's not that he didn't know what Leir meant, he just couldn't control the urge to vent and roar.

They finally turned and walked towards the room, and Regulus was relieved.

Walburga, who was standing at the door, kindly made room for him, and Regulus behaved as well as usual. He heard him say: "Thank you, mother."

Why does it sound so weak?

Why did Sirius' face appear right above his?

Why is the ceiling above him too?

Why was Sirius lying next to him?

Oh, right.

It's mom.

She was there as they entered the room, as she made way, with their backs to her—

"Heart-piercing and bone-cutting."

Pain, pain from the body to the soul. If the living really had souls, Regulus thought his must have been torn apart.

It is hard to imagine what was going on in his mind. There was nothing but despair and endless despair surrounding him.

This is more intense than physical pain, and mental attacks always make people more devastated.

He had heard Sirius scream from this spell, but that was a long time ago, maybe when he was four or five years old?

Regulus wondered optimistically if he had screamed, that was hilarious, wasn't it?

He could no longer sense any sound, including his own.

Just before he fainted, his beloved mother finally spoke in a condescending manner, "I told you not to challenge me."

Her ridiculous authority, punishing Sirius for interrupting her?

what.

It's ridiculous.

It was his last thought before he lost consciousness.

It was already night when Regulus woke up, and he called Kreacher, the house-elf who never refused him and had taken care of him growing up.

"Oh, Master Regulus." The elf's big eyes were filled with mist. He stretched out his hand tremblingly to wipe the sweat from the forehead of his beloved little master, but Regulus stopped him.

He asked anxiously, "Where's Sirius? How is he?"

Kreacher paused what he was doing. He didn't like Master Sirius, who always treated him badly.

But house-elves can only be slaves of wizards and they cannot go against the wizards' wishes.

Kreacher's hands were wringing the tattered garment - the piece of cloth - on his body.

"Master Sirius hasn't woken up yet. He looks worse."

Regulus could feel that Sirius was in much more pain than him at that time, and this was not the first time Sirius had endured the pain of heart-wrenching pain.

Regulus had never imagined the damn thing would feel like this.

His move to get out of bed to check on Sirius was stopped by Kreacher, who also fell to the carpet.

"Master Regulus, the mistress wants you to get some rest. Before she leaves, she asks that you be able to attend tomorrow's banquet normally."

Kreacher imitated Walburga's arrogant tone, and Regulus' heart sank step by step.