November 3, 1959.
In the delivery room of number 12 Grimmauld Place, the atmosphere was tense.
Under the heavy curtains of the bed, Walburga Black's breathing mixed with the smell of sweat that emanated from her soaked hair.
In the room there were three Healers surrounding the bed, wearing robes that flaunted the embroidery of the House of Black.
"Push, madam" whispered Elma in a low voice, the lead healer, while her yew wand slid through the air accompanying the contraction.
When the midnight bell struck the eleventh chime, a baby's cry was heard.
Being also next to the bed, Orion Black had a serious face.
Dressed in dark green robes, he wore a star of black diamonds on his neck as an insignia. With barely thirty years, he already carried the weight of being the Head of the House of Black.
"Let me hold him" Smiling weakly, Walburga whispered.
Upon receiving the baby in her arms, she looked down at that wrinkled little face. Her fingers brushed with delicacy the soft dark lock on his forehead, a hair that already promised to become an untamable curl.
"What will be his name?" Inquired Orion.
"Sirius."
Walburga answered without hesitation: "Like the brightest star in the sky, the navigator who never gets lost, he will guide the Blacks toward a new glory."
From the walls, the portraits nodded one after another, and a lady with a high collar from the Victorian era said: "A powerful name, but remember, even the brightest star can be hidden by the storm."
Orion leaned over his son and whispered, "Welcome to the family, Sirius. Be worthy of your blood."
...
The nursery of number 12 Grimmauld Place occupied the east wing of the third floor. The floor was dressed in a deep green carpet and the walls displayed animated tapestries that narrated the glories of the Black lineage.
In one of them, an ancestor subdued a Peruvian Vipertooth, in another, the defense of Gringotts was waged during the goblin revolts.
A third portrait observed the room with arrogance: a former Minister of Magic who, despite his haughtiness, had barely lasted four months in office before being forced to resign.
One afternoon, when Sirius was ten months old, while Walburga received Druella Black in the adjoining room, Kreacher mounted guard next to the crib, smoothing the velvet duvet.
Clinging to the bars, Sirius managed to stand up. His legs were still weak and trembled under his weight, but he remained firm, fixing his gaze on a silver bell fallen on the carpet, three feet away.
He extended his hand and the bell rolled half an inch toward him.
"..."
Kreacher stifled a scream and, instantly, began to punish himself by hitting his head against the leg of the nearest table: "Bad Kreacher! Kreacher did not see the young master's first magic! Bad! BAD!"
Walburga entered the room like a gust, with her face radiant with ecstasy: "He has stood up! He is only ten months old! Orion, have you seen it?"
Orion remained on the threshold, with an indecipherable countenance. "It is very soon" he murmured, "too soon for his magic to awaken..."
"It is pure talent!" Walburga lifted her son and covered him with kisses. "My little Sirius, you were born for greatness."
From that day on, his education as a pureblood began.
Every afternoon, Walburga settled him on her lap in front of the family tapestry. The immense cloth covered the entire wall, narrating with threads years of history of the House of Black.
However, some branches appeared scorched. They were the hollows of the repudiated, black scars on the noble fabric.
"Look here." Walburga pointed to the top of the tree. "This is our first ancestor, Linfred Black, a healer from the twelfth century."
At one year of age, Sirius already spoke with surprising fluency. One afternoon, he pointed to one of the burnt spots and asked: "There, what happened?"
His mother's countenance darkened. "That is your great aunt Cedrella..."
"She committed an unforgivable mistake by mixing with impure blood, so her name was purged from the family forever. Never commit an aberration like that, Sirius."
...
January 15, 1961.
The winter was extraordinarily cold, the streets of London lay buried under layers of snow and a fine frost covered the banks of the Thames. However, at number 12 Grimmauld Place, the protection enchantments maintained a spring like warmth.
Walburga's second labor proved much more arduous than the first.
The contractions began at midnight on the 14th and lasted for sixteen agonizing hours.
At three in the morning, her screams tore the silence, followed shortly after by the cry of the newborn: a sound softer and more ephemeral than the one Sirius had at birth.
Orion approached with a quick step. "What name have you decided?"
Walburga contemplated the child, unusually still in her arms. He had the grey eyes typical of the Blacks wide open, observing his surroundings with an unsettling calm.
"Regulus", she murmured with tenderness. "The heart of Leo. The second brightest star; the one that does not seek glory, but is indispensable. Firm. Loyal. Eternal."
Orion completed: "Regulus Arcturus Black."
Walburga placed her son in the crib and, overcome by exhaustion, instantly fell into a deep sleep.
...
Orion remained standing between both cribs.
On the left, Sirius, two years old, slept soundly, with his hand hanging between the bars, still clutching his favorite silver bell.
On the right, the newborn Regulus lay in silence, with his eyes wide open, fixed on the crib opposite.
And as if he perceived that gaze in his dreams, Sirius stirred and turned his body toward his brother.
Regulus averted his gaze.
'It is Sirius.'
The man who would betray his blood for his ideals and find death behind the Veil.
Now his older brother.
In the depths of that tiny body, an adult soul exhaled a silent sigh.
Struggling against the limitations of an infant brain still in development, he forced his first coherent thought:
"I will not repeat Regulus's tragedy! I will forge a different path."
Behind the window, the London sky looked unusually clear.
The winter constellations reigned in the darkness: Orion in the south, Taurus to the east and, between them, the most radiant star in the firmament: Sirius.
Not far away, the star Regulus, in the constellation of Leo, blinked in silence: dimmer... but unbreakable.
....
For Sirius's second birthday, Walburga organized an intimate celebration in her garden.
Although the guest list was limited to the Black's inner circle, the staging was magnificent. The house elves had forced the roses to bloom in the middle of winter, silver tableware floated into line by itself, and even the central fountain flowed with lemon juice instead of water, simply because Sirius adored sour flavors.
During the banquet, Regulus remained seated on his mother's lap. He wore an adorable dark green velvet suit, with a small silver brooch at the neck.
But he ignored those present, keeping his gaze fixed in the distance.
"What is he looking at?" wondered Walburga following the direction of his eyes.
She only saw the garden wall covered in ivy.
"Surely the glints in the ivy attract him," ventured Druella. "The sun reflects on the dew. The shine is very mesmerizing."
However, what captured Regulus's attention was a hidden Bowtruckle nest.
These peculiar creatures, camouflaged among the branches, were invisible both to the common eye and to that of the majority of wizards.
But every time they moved, they generated a tiny disturbance in the magical flow of the environment.
He perceived it with clarity, but upon hearing the conversation between his mother and his aunt, he understood that they were blind to it.
After a long period of doubts, one afternoon Walburga finally approached Orion, with certain hesitation: "Don't you think Regulus is... a little slow?"
At this moment Regulus was one year and three months old. At that same age, Sirius already ran through the house and formulated complete sentences.
In contrast, Regulus appeared unusually calm. He rarely cried and his reactions seemed always delayed.
Orion put down his copy of The Daily Prophet, got up and headed to the nursery, followed closely by his wife.
They found Regulus sitting on the carpet, absorbed before an illustrated book: Fantastic Beasts in Motion. It was a book intended for children over three years old, where a Hippogriff flapped its wings and a Diricawl vanished to reappear at another point on the page.
"..."
Orion observed him in absolute silence for ten minutes.
Finally he approached, squatted down to be at his son's height and indicated to Walburga: "Look him in the eyes."
Walburga imitated his gesture, scrutinizing Regulus's grey gaze, but she did not manage to distinguish anything unusual.
Orion continued: "He is not slow. He is listening, looking, learning and analyzing everything at the same time. Simply... he is a little quiet."
As if to confirm his words, Regulus raised his head and, for the first time, sought his father's gaze by his own will.
The grey of his eyes met with that of Orion.
And without knowing how to explain why, Walburga sighed with relief. She blindly trusted her husband's judgment.
________
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