WHO: Regulus and Sirius Black WHAT: Discoveries WHERE: The unnamed town that is here WHEN: First day. RATING: Low
Okay. Life was normally a bit on the upside down way of things, that much was just fact. But this? This was genuinely more strange than most things. One second, Sirius had been on his motorbike, heading toward a good time (at the Potter’s house, because of course where else would he be going?) and the next?
Well. This was not the Potter’s house. This wasn’t even in the same vicinity, so far as he could reckon. For one, it was completely unpopulated and nothing was familiar and two — actually. One seemed like good evidence, enough. James was a good prankster even on his worst days, but this didn’t seem like his style. Or in the capacity of his power or imagination.
Sirius was… curious. Going on nervous. He parked his sky leopard bike, dismounted and pulled his wand out. Better safe than sorry and all that.
“Oi!” He called out, although frankly, it very much looked like there was no one around. The water was still. There were no birds or animals he could see. No one in any window of any building. It wasn’t much of a laugh so much as unnerving. Like a dream gone wrong. Maybe it was a dream. Next up was wandering in for one of his NEWTs about a month too late and never actually passing school. Probably.
A quick run down of the open square left him with nothing, and so the next logical conclusion would be to check out the insides of the buildings. At least until he woke up.
The first door he picked - a friendly little two story - was unlocked and the door didn’t so much as creak to break the silence when he he pushed it further open.
---
Regulus had been going home for what he knew would be the last time. Had been. Now...now he was somewhere that definitely was not anything close to home. It felt hollow here. The streets were practically barren and deserted. Sure, there were plants and the like, but plants and the like didn’t remove the feeling like he’d just walked into a ghost town. It was worse than Hogsmede during the summer. At least then, there would be someone, anyone around.
He didn’t dare get off his broom. For all he knew there was some charm on the ground or something worse. A cursed place? Perhaps. Had Voldemort done this to him? No, not likely. The mark on his forearm didn’t so much as tingle. It didn’t feel like anything, actually, which was disturbing in and of itself.
He slowed to look around, drawing his wand cautiously. There was a motorbike outside of one of the houses, one that had its door almost ominously open. That was the only sign of life he’d seen so far and Regulus was absolutely certain that house was a trap.
---
That house was not, in fact, a trap.
There was nothing in the house save normal house fixtures and normal house furniture. Sinks, beds, the like. But no one lived there, and despite the fact that it wasn’t dusty, it was still obvious. It felt sterile. Like it’d never been lived in at all.
Sirius wasn’t sure what to think of that, but all he really knew was that this one offered no answers. So onto the next one it was. Even in the silence and empty, Sirius was not so stupid to lower his wand, particularly while he exited the building.
--
Regulus was studying the rest of the place when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Movement and then- His jaw set, mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked at his brother.
---
Still nothin--- no. Wait. Sirius tilted his head up and very much brandished his wand as if he were about to use it only to pause at the last second. Because that was not the threat he was expecting.
Well, really, Regulus was usually the last person he was expecting these days. “What are you doing up there?” He called out, mouth equally set into a line that spoke of no-nonsense.
--
His older brother might’ve been clever, but he wasn’t this sort of clever. He looked around this place. “I was going back to the house. Now I’m here.” Not home. It had stopped being home a very long time ago. He was almost positive Sirius wouldn’t care to notice the difference. “Is the ground trapped?”
---
Sirius wouldn’t have called it home either, but that was a given. He wasn’t always so observant, particularly not when faced with bizarre situations. Like winding up in mysterious empty cities. Towns? Whatever.
“I was going to -- well. I’m here too. No, the ground isn’t trapped. Do I look trapped?” It wasn’t like it was a bad question, considering, but Sirius was already stomping around like the prat who hadn’t thought of it.
--
“Just because you don’t look trapped at the moment doesn’t mean you haven’t been trapped previously here in some manner,” Regulus pointed out. Still, with his brother’s prideful petulance on display he figured it was likely safe enough and lowered himself to the ground to get off his broom.
---
“Something’s a trap,” Sirius also pointed out, because they could all talk like something was obvious, couldn’t they. “But I don’t think it’s the ground. Which part did you show up in?” Sirius would absolutely not admit that he hadn’t quite noticed because he’d been to surprised at the time. “The buildings are empty,” he went on. Because that felt important to note.
---
“By the fountain,” Regulus said, gesturing behind him with a jerk of his head. “Everything’s empty. There’s no heart to this place.”
---
Sirius glanced over at the fountain in question, but it just looked, well, like a fountain. Go figure. “What,” he said, turning his attention to another little row of buildings. “You think a welcome mat’d fix it?” Probably not. “Turning around didn’t help much. Suppose you tried that?”
Awkward.
--
“I did,” Regulus responded dryly. “And it’s not… There’s something off about this place, hollow. Like Christmas dinner.” He frowned.
---
“At the Black residence,” Sirius agreed, equally dry. Because they could both agree on that, apparently. Sirius wasn’t stupid, he’d known his brother hadn’t liked it any better than him. He’d simply been better at hiding it. “Alright,” he went on. “So we keep searching until we find something that feels real.”
--
“And if we don’t?” he asked. He walked around, feeling a little overwhelmed and more...more hunted than he wanted to be. “I don’t like this.”
---
“Then I guess we die here.” Sirius was practically cheerful about it. Because there was no point in not being dramatic but refusing to be outwardly terrified. “Just keep your wand out. We’ll be fine. Someone’s just gotten… really good at pranks.”
---
“Yeah, I was ready for that already,” Regulus said without thinking. “You get pranked. I don’t.”
---
“That’s because I have friends,” Sirius returned, equally fast. Pranks weren’t all that bad. Except this one. This one wasn’t good.
Whatever. He stepped into the next building. All cute and colored wood, a front porch with little flower pots in front.
--
Not very fond of that kind of response (though not surprised by it,) Regulus got up on his broom and went back to cautiously flying ahead. Sirius knew how to signal for help if he needed it. They’d both been through DADA.
---
Yeah, he didn’t need any help. Sirius found nothing in the next house or the one after that. And by the time he’d circled round into the buildings that looked more like they were for business rather than living, he still hadn’t found anything. Nothing of note anyway.
From the look of it, neither had Regulus. And by then, enough time had passed where he was really beyond worried, but also just tired of looking for things. This was the least exciting adventure he’d ever been on, he was certain.
“Okay,” he called, and sat down petulant on the ground, legs spread out in front of him, wand loose in his fingers. “We’re fucked, and I’m tired.”
---
“Sounds about right. You think one of these buildings has some food in it?” Food was always a decent distractor for Sirius at least from what he’d observed.
---
“No, and I looked.” Of course he did. Why hadn’t Regulus was the real question. “Though I did see, uh, a little garden out there. If you’re interested in carrots. Potatoes. What was possibly some sort of thyme? I don’t know. We could make the world’s saddest soup.”
--
“Sadness soup it is,” he sighed. “Could maybe see about doing some kind of fry up.”
---
“Sure.” A pause. “You know how to cook?”
--
“Yes,” he said. “That’s what happens when your only friend is a house elf. You think there’s anything worth hunting?”
---
And that was why no one played pranked on Regulus. Sirius kept a very straight face for that one. He did. “Maybe. But I don’t know if I’m in the mood. Accio some pots,” he said, because at least he’d seen those around in his search. “Sadness soup. Then we figure out the rest.”
---
“Then you go get some vegetables and I’ll see about meat. There’s no reason for it to be a complete sadness soup.” He got back on his broom and headed out into the tree line.
---
“Yes there is,” Sirius said, even though Regulus was half gone by then. “Because I am completely sad.” Yeah. That was more for himself. All for himself. It was a thing.
At least the carrots he dragged up seemed to agree with him.
---
The woods were largely underwhelming. There were deer, but they were smart for the most part. Cautious. There were squirrels too. A few rabbits, but they weren’t worth it. He needed to get his frustration out on something.
He stayed in the trees for a while, quiet, patient and still as he waited. Eventually a young buck wandered over and Regulus was on it, wrestling it to his back as he sank his teeth against its throat, crushing its windpipe until it suffocated to death.
When it was done, he changed back and put his clothes back on, cleaning the blood off of himself and getting back on his broom, levitating the dead deer behind him back to whatever house Sirius had claimed for himself.
---
By the time he got back, Sirius had claimed one of the houses -- it was blue and two stories and about as empty as everything else. He didn’t plan on staying but it was very centrally located. Just in case.
Anyhow, he had the front door open and had cleaned and diced down vegetables with a quick spell -- they were bubbling in a pot now, and Sirius wasn’t much of a cook but he figured he’d done good enough even though there was no salt to be found.
“...Did you kill a deer?” It was obvious he had and it was hard not to think of James when looking at that very dead thing.
--
“Yes,” Regulus said dryly, starting to use his magic to dress the buck, taking care to do it as cleanly as possible. “If we put a cold charm on the box,” he said nodding to it, “we’ll have enough food to last us a few days while we figure things out and the things that aren’t edible can be used as bait for something else even if that’s just trying to get the crows on side.”
He looked over at his brother. “Did Father never take you out hunting to threaten you into compliance or was that something else exclusive to my upbringing?”
---
Yeah, well, Sirius got that. It was all very practical and he’d have done all the same stuff, really. Ice box. Yes. Saving food for later, yes. Killing a buck? Probably not. He was sentimental, and all.
He offered a sniff though, stirring at their not-so sadness soup with a flick of his wand. “Of course he did. I just got lost in the woods until he got mad and took me home.” Like all reasonable young wizards would have done.
--
Regulus made a dry little noise of unsurprise as he worked on the kitchen table, being careful and methodical as he was in most everything. Wrong moves got you hurt after all.
He made sure to shave off some bits of fat to be used later for a proper fry up so that they didn’t have to bother with his brother’s ridiculous Sadness Soup™ again and then set about dicing up some chunks of rich meat to be cooked in the pan and added to the soup before working on storing things. Bones for stock. Inedible innards for the crows or perhaps fertilizer for the garden if he could remember those Herbology lessons. Hide to be treated into proper leather just in case.
Eventually, he got the deer all prepped and put away into the ice box. Later he could work on enlarging the pot Sirius had to make proper stock.
Sadness soup. Honestly it was ridiculous.
---
Sirius eyed Regulus as he worked, expression gone thoughtful and maybe a little petulant. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t have done all that. Because he didn’t really know the first thing about meal preparation beyond some easy stuff. Saving guts for gardening hadn’t exactly been Black Upbringing 101, nor had the Potters dealt with things like that.
Mostly, since living by himself, he’d gone out for chips and ice cream whenever he felt so inclined.
They needed to find a way out of this, he decided, because he’d starve to death in under a week if left to his own devices. “So,” he said, slow and probably less easily than he might have otherwise liked. “We should probably stick together. Here.”
--
Regulus gave his brother a firmly arched brow to go with that nonplussed look. “What you’re saying is now that I’m useful, you want me around.” No sense in beating around the bush. Sirius hadn’t cared then and he didn’t care now.
---
It was probably a bad time to also point out that there was no one else around. Because that’d come across worse, certainly. “I said nothing of the sort,” he said, because he didn’t want words being put in his mouth. That was for sadness soup. “And I did cut the veg.”
--
“You didn’t need to say it,” he said, “And you cut the veg and made a soup after I told you soup wasn’t going to be necessary and we could have a fry up.”
---
“No, you said we didn’t have to have a complete sadness soup.” Well, if they were going to argue, Sirius would much rather it be about dinner than their actual feelings and their brotherly bond. Or lack thereof.
--
“Are we done?” Regulus didn’t want to continue this conversation especially when his brother was being an obvious dick about it.
---
Or maybe he was just pointing out facts. Either way, he was getting a little ruffled and he really didn’t need that, not if they were like… the only two people left on earth or something. “If you wanna be, yeah,” he said, unable to not be petulant.
--
It took everything in Regulus not to snap at his brother. “Enjoy your sadness soup. I’m not hungry.” He kept himself calm. He had to. If he wasn’t calm, it would draw attention and things would spiral out of control. He cleaned up the rest of his mess and cast himself a little bit of light as he went to explore the rest of the house.