Sirius and the Potter Family

The Hogwarts Express came to a stop at King's Cross Station, steam billowing from the engine and engulfing the platform in a white mist.

The train doors opened, and the Wizards poured out, boxes dragging on the stone slabs with a clatter, owls fluttering in their cages, and sounds of hooting and laughter filling the air. Parents waved from the other end of the platform, their calls of names rising and falling, some hugging, some patting on the shoulder, some crouching down to touch their child's face.

Regulus got off the train. The platform was crowded, so he took a few steps to the side to avoid the flow of people.

Avery, Alex, Hermes followed him down, and the three of them stood beside him, while only Alex carried the suitcase.

"See you at the Christmas Banquet." Avery's eyes lit up, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement.

He didn't really understand what those kinds of dinner parties were all about before—family gatherings, eating, drinking, adults talking, kids listening—it was so boring. But this semester is different.

What he did alongside Regulus gradually made him understand one thing.

Those dinners were not just meals; they were political arenas for the Pure-blood Circle.

The adults in that setting exchanged information, stated their positions, and tried to win over or distance themselves from others.

What we eat is secondary; who sits where is the main thing.

The more he learned about what was going on, the more he wanted to get involved; he felt that was the right thing to do.

The heir to the Cuthbert family should be in an occasion like this.

Hermes slowly walked over from behind; his father, Abros Mulciber, was already waiting at the other end of the platform.

He glanced in that direction, then turned back. "Our family is participating too this year."

His tone was so casual, as if he were just saying the Tiantian.

Regulus looked at the two of them; Avery was like a burning fire, Hermes was like an unburnt ember.

The Cuthbert family has always been clear-cut; they've long since chosen sides with Voldemort, and it's only natural that Avery follows suit. The Mulciber family also chose sides long ago, but their tradition is to keep their Dark Arts under wraps and avoid the limelight.

This year's Christmas Banquet is a formal debut for their family, so Hermes has to attend.

Regulus withdrew his gaze and looked at Alex.

Alex stood at the very edge, his suitcase beside him, a scarf covering the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible.

His family was waiting at the outermost edge of the platform. His mother, who was short with dark hair and wearing a thick wool shawl, was standing on tiptoe, peering into the crowd.

His father stood beside him, holding a folded copy of the Daily Prophet, which he hadn't yet unfolded.

The Roxier branch doesn't attend those kinds of dinners; they just want to live their own lives quietly and never get involved in outside affairs.

Their logic was simple: Voldemort and Dumbledore had nothing to do with a small family like theirs.

It's better to close the door and live your own life well than anything else.

Alex grew up in this environment and he felt that his parents were right.

Avoid getting involved in or touching troublesome things outside the home if possible.

But he knew in his heart that the line had already been crossed when he started fighting against Rababstan alongside Regulus.

There will be more, bigger things to come: taking sides, conflicts, even war.

He was prepared.

He just didn't want his parents to be affected; they were just ordinary wizards who wanted a peaceful life.

Regulus looked at Alex, then glanced at the couple at the edge of the platform.

This is the true nature of most people in the Wizarding World.

They are people who don't take sides, don't participate in major events, and just want to live their lives peacefully.

They certainly read the newspapers, discussed the situation, sighed in front of the fireplace, and felt that the world was not doing well.

But after sighing, you close the newspaper, eat your meal, and go to work.

They have neither the leverage to choose sides nor the confidence to remain neutral.

When war actually reaches their doorstep, all they can do is run or fight, but they are not good at either of those.

"Have a good rest during the holidays," Regulus said to Alex, his tone as usual. "See you when school starts."

Avery slapped Alex's arm, a little too hard, and Alex was jerked to the side, turning to glare at him.

Avery chuckled, "Let's go, let's go, the family's waiting."

"See you at the dinner," he said, turning to Regulus.

Hermes nodded as a farewell, then turned and walked toward his father.

Regulus stood still, watching the three of them merge into the crowd and walk in different directions.

The steam hadn't completely dissipated, white mist still hung overhead, and the noise of people came from all directions.

He turned and walked through the crowd, past a group of Hufflepuff first-years carrying boxes and running around, until he reached a corner at the end of the platform.

Kreacher was waiting there.

The House-elf wore a clean Tea Towel, folded like an apron, with the edges neatly tucked in.

When it saw Regulus, it bent its whole body downwards, its nose almost touching the ground, and its large ears drooping on both sides.

"Young Master is back. Kreacher is here to take him home."

After it finished speaking, it stretched out a long finger, the tip pointing at Regulus's trouser leg.

"Wait," Regulus said.

Kreacher's finger froze in mid-air. He obediently withdrew it, stepped aside, and waited with his hand and head hanging down.

Regulus stood there, his gaze sweeping over the crowd and landing on the Gryffindor.

Sirius stood in the crowd, facing James Potter and his parents.

James's mouth hasn't stopped talking since earlier.

"Really going back?" He grabbed Sirius's arm, speaking rapidly, "I really don't understand, what did he say to you?"

He leaned forward, his tone more forceful. "The Black family, that place..."

He didn't choose his words carefully afterward; he used whatever words sounded offensive.

When they used to curse like that, Sirius would join in, cursing more enthusiastically than anyone else. After they finished, they would laugh together, and then continue cursing. While Sirius never actually joined in the cursing, he never stopped him from doing so, even though he called Sirius's brother Slytherin's little viper."

But things are different now.

James noticed the change about three weeks ago, after Sirius and his brother came in through the Great Hall dining room doors.

When he started cursing the Black family again, Sirius didn't respond, didn't argue, and didn't get angry. He just kept quiet and waited for Sirius to finish cursing before changing the subject.

But when he started cursing Regulus again, Sirius would show a displeased expression, his face clearly saying, "Stop talking."

This made James anxious.

Sirius is still Sirius.

They messed around at Hogwarts, got into trouble together, played pranks together, went to the Forbidden Forest together, and got points deducted by McGonagall together.

Nothing has changed.

But some things are different now. He can't quite put his finger on what's different, but they just aren't.

He'd been sleeping with Sirius for two and a half years, and he could sense even the slightest change in his best friend.

He didn't know the reason, so he could only worry and resort to the old methods.

They cursed the Black family, cursed Slytherin, cursed that Little Viper.

It seems that Sirius is still the Sirius.

But now that Sirius isn't cooperating, James is starting to panic.

Charlus Potter stood behind his son, his hair gray, wearing square-framed glasses, unlike James's round-framed ones, but with the exact same curve on the bridge of his nose.

He was quite old, with deep wrinkles on his face, but he was full of energy and stood there very upright.

He heard James getting increasingly absurd and reached out to press down on his son's shoulder.

James turned to look at him, his mouth still open, the rest of his sentence stuck in his throat.

Charlus didn't look at his son; he looked at Sirius with a serious, elder-like gaze. "Sirius, you know, the Potter family door is always open for you."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Anytime is fine."

Euphemia Potter walked up from behind her husband; she was short and had white hair.

He was wearing a dark blue robe and a light gray scarf, which was finely woven.

Her face was round, with fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and her whole face lit up when she smiled.

Without saying a word, she walked straight to Sirius and hugged him.

She placed her hand on Sirius's back and patted him twice, gently, as if patting her own child.

She felt that the child would suffer if he returned to that home, that he would be neglected, and that he would be slowly crushed by the eyes and tones of those people. So she wanted to give him a warmth he could remember before he left.

Sirius's body stiffened slightly, and his eyes welled up with tears.

But it passed quickly. He took a breath, pressing the heat down into his chest, preventing it from escaping.

Euphemia released him, took a half step back, looked up at him, said nothing, and just smiled.

Sirius looked into her eyes, his throat bobbed, and then he grinned, revealing his signature smile.

He's flamboyant and carefree, seemingly capable of handling anything.

"I'm just going back to take a look," he said casually, with his characteristic nonchalance. "Don't make it sound like a life-or-death situation." He raised his hand and patted his chest. "I'm also surnamed Black, remember? That's my home. I'm going back to my home, what's wrong with that?" Even he himself felt that saying this was a little different.

Before, when he mentioned the Black family, every word he uttered was barbed, fiery, and carried a burning intensity, as if he wanted to set the whole house on fire. Now, he doesn't have that same intensity.

That home is still that home, but he still doesn't like it, and he probably never will.

But he wanted to go back and see, with his own eyes, without hatred or resistance, just to see.

He turned to face James, reached out and slapped James hard across the back. It was a solid slap.

James stumbled forward, nearly dropping his glasses, when the slap landed on him. He straightened himself, grinned, and glared back at him. "You!"

Sirius slapped him again on the shoulder, this time even louder.

"Hey," he grinned, revealing his teeth, "Don't think I can't come back just because I'm going back. I'm going home to practice Magic, Transfiguration. Let's have a contest when school starts."

James rubbed his shoulder, glared at him for a moment, then laughed, "You think the Potter family aren't formidable? Don't cry later." Lupin walked over from the side; he looked better today. The full moon had just passed, and he was still recovering, but he was in good spirits. Sirius smile playing on his lips, "Remus, isn't the moon beautiful?"

Lupin paused for a moment, then smiled gently and shook his head, "So-so."

Peter stood at the very back, his shoulders hunched. Sirius glanced at him, Peter quickly put on a smile and waved.

Sirius nodded at them and then turned to walk to the other end of the platform.

He had already seen it; Regulus was in that corner, leaning against the wall, waiting quietly.