Work Text:
Regulus Black did not often resort to drinking when he was home. Somehow, in the quiet of the night and the absence of their parents, he had filled a goblet with the white wine stored with some potions. A vital ingredient for the French cure for the bite of a mad-dog. It was also a rather secretive fact that Sirius Black was known to drink the same wine, out of the same cupboards, delighting with their cousin Andromeda about how this was the one alcohol that they shared with muggles. Rightfully so, Regulus now found himself agreeing, it was quite like magic.
“Master,” Kreacher appeared next to him in the hall, “I found her.”
“Where is she?” Regulus asked calmly, ignoring his heart-beat and the tight way his fingers wrapped around the goblet.
“The new pub near knockturn alley,” Kreacher said.
“Doing what?”
Kreacher seemed to hesitate. The littlest Black, Cordelia, had a way of being nice and warming up the hearts of everyone she met. Regulus’s eyes went to the portrait of their immediate family. Almost everyone. Sirius loved to recall stories of Regulus and his cold, empty gaze every time Cordelia looked their way with a smile. Regulus loved pointing out that Sirius’s gaze itself was usually filled with the same icy fury. Still, the matter at hand was that though their sister was all toothy grins and frequent smiles, she was their sister. With both Sirius’s addiction for dangerous fun and Regulus’s expertise in hiding said fun.
“Kreacher,” Regulus said, “What was my little sister doing?”
“Gambling,” Kreacher muttered.
“Gambling with what?” Regulus couldn’t help but blurt out, baffled by the word, “And for what?”
“I don’t know, master,” Kreacher answered honestly.
“Bring her home,” Regulus’s tone shifted back into the cool indifference he’d mastered, “ And once you do, tell her to come up to my chambers. Kreacher, do not escort her up yourself.”
“Yes, master,” and the matter was done. Kreacher was gone. Regulus took a look at the half-empty bottle and shrugged to no-one before grabbing it. His footsteps were quiet on the floor of the Black house. Somehow, his boots knew the spots that creaked so well that he could wander like a ghost without much thought to the matter.
It had to be some inspirational sort of stupidity, Regulus’s bed creaked as he sat down, that had bewitched Cordelia. Even if she didn’t know about much else, Regulus had confessed about the map to her. She knew. Sirius had the entire city mapped out but more precisely, Regulus and Cordelia’s whereabouts were displayed in it as clear as the big Ben. If Sirius was to find their underage little sister at a pub in Knockturn Alley gambling with people who had no moral intentions, people who knew that she was a Black — Regulus did not want to know displeased Sirius Black would be. He would not wait for anyone to fetch her, nor offer her words a second thought. Whilst he wouldn’t smack her in public, Sirius would not hesitate to pick her up and scold her the entire way home, possibly throughout the night and perhaps even after. That was putting it lightly, Regulus had to admit to himself. He put the bottle near his bed.
A knock sounded.
“Yes, Kreacher?” Regulus called out, aware of the quiet and polite sound that the knock produced.
“She’s on her way up, master.”
“Could you leave a tray with some hot chocolate outside the room, Kreacher/” Regulus considered how serious would his impression have to be on his only sister and then sighed, “And perhaps a few chocolates.”
“Yes, master. Is there anything else?”
Regulus nodded, “Do tell the rest that Cordelia and I would require privacy until the next morning. Apart from the hot chocolate, if we need anything else we will ask for it. And Kreacher? I do realise your loyalties lie with mother and father, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us. It does not need to result in Cordelia lying in pain for days.”
Kreacher seemed pained. At the aspect of lying to Orion and Walburgha or at the mention of Cordelia’s inevitable pain were they to find out about what she did, Regulus did not know. A sigh of relief left him when he heard soft footsteps behind Kreacher, who instantly awakened from his pained look.
“Yes, master,” he said. Regulus nodded at him.
“Thank you, Kreacher.”
He closed the door behind him. Just a few seconds later, the footsteps stopped outside his door. Regulus waited silently for the few minutes that his sister built up her courage to knock. Before a word could leave his mouth, Cordelia opened the door.
“Good Evening, Regulus,” She said quietly and shut the door behind her. She slowly walked to stand in front of him. Something, Regulus thought wryly, they never did with Sirius. If Sirius was displeased with them, they stood away until a warning forced them near. Then again, Regulus supposed, they both always wanted their eldest to be proud of them. When it was the case where they had done the opposite, they weren’t strangers to lying anyway. It was not the fear, it was mostly the constant and tiring yearn for his validation.
“Where were you?” He asked, pulling her closer. He stood her between his feet and left his hand on hers. Cordelia’s eyes shone slightly. She stood still and silent. Regulus’s eyes looked over her face for any signs of hurt, even though he knew that if she was, she’d have said so already through tears and promises of a lesson learnt through that hurt — ‘I don’t need to have that…I already learned through this, Regulus. It hurts so much.’
Her dark hair were dishevelled, her cheeks and nose tinted a warm pink.
“At the pub,” Cordelia said and then suddenly, her shoulders were back and all traces of a scared sister were long gone. Defiance had spread in her visibly enough that Regulus wouldn’t be able to mistake it for anything else, “You should know. Sirius has a map. You hired those ghosts to keep a bloody eye on me. Not to mention, you sent Kreacher. Regulus, I’m not twelve. If it’s just you and I in the house and I feel like spending some time out, it shouldn’t be such a big deal. The death-eaters won’t hurt me. They are your friends, aren’t they? And the Order are Sirius’s. Truly, you have to agree, I am well and truly safe.”
Regulus’s tongue scraped across his teeth. The three of them never did go down without a fight. Cordelia might have been scared but she would drown her fears with her words. They always had.
“You do realise that you are not immortal. You are neither Dumbledore nor the Dark Lord with armies to protect you. You are seventeen.” —
“Exactly, Regulus. Seventeen. You were a death-eater by sixteen and Sirius had already left before he was sixteen. So if at the age of seventeen, I decide that I want to spend some time away from home because I felt suffocated, it is not a crime.”
“You were gambling,” Regulus said, still as calm and composed in his tone, though his hands had again tightened on hers, “With the same death eaters in Diagon alley where all wagers are bloody accepted with no decent rules.”
“You became one even youn”—
Regulus stood up, towering down at her.
“Be very careful. If your next words do not show me you understand, I will take you over my knee for a spanking before you finish your sentence.”
“Wanker,” She muttered. Regulus let out a laugh at that. Wanker. Sirius’s genes overpowered her right now, of that he was sure.
“Calling the brother who is about to warm up your bottom for you a ‘wanker’ is not the wisest decision you could have made,” He muttered at her and if anyone was watching, they would not recognise Regulus with so much affection in his eyes.
Cordelia, wisely, wrapped her hands around Regulus. “What if I say I am very sorry and it will never happen again?”
“I would say that it is not enough.”
“What if I say that the man I was gambling with was Barty and it was just for some chocolates?”
“Barty Crouch Senior? I would say, what a scandal,” Regulus wrapped his arms around her with a fond smile as she laughed into his chest. He was still quite upset with her but with how frequently he thought of Sirius, Regulus had understood the reasoning for her little trip. It would displease Sirius enough to appear. Cordelia, like him, simply missed their eldest brother. Sirius was naturally a better person to hug than Regulus was.
He squeezed her tightly before pulling away, replacing his obvious relief at her safety and of course, that she was simply hanging around his friends instead of some truly dangerous people with a firm look. Cordelia was smart. If, however, she was willing to risk Kreacher informing mother and father, who knew to what extent she’d go?
He grabbed her hand, opened a drawer to pull out a heavy wooden hairbrush and sat back down.
Cordelia simply stared at him with horror.
“I was safe, Regulus,” She stepped back, “I was with Barty. Ask him. I promise, I didn’t drink. I was in my right mind and I had my wand” —
“Enough,” Regulus pulled her back firmly, positioning her so she was over his knee comfortably, “I do not think you understand what I am trying to explain. Perhaps, this will help.”
He didn’t start with the hairbrush. That was after she had admitted. For now, he bared her bottom and began spanking her. The first smack was met with a loud yelp. The second with a whine. Soon, Regulus’s hand turned into an unpredictable whirlwind, smacking Cordelia’s bottom into a uniform pink.
“Here is what I do not seem to understand,” He said, loud enough to be heard clearly over the sound of his smacking and her yelps, “If you know that Sirius knows where you are, if you know that I have eyes on you: why would you choose to go to a pub? If you were intending to not end up with a warm bottom, why were you gambling with Barty who would, at some point, be pressured by Evan Rosier into letting me know?”
Because even James knew, Barty was not one to tell.
“I didn’t think so much,” Cordelia whined. She tried to pull herself away from his lap. Regulus only pulled her back and smacked her sit-spots much harder in response.
“Think then. I will not stop with this until I know.”
“Ow, ow, ow…Regulus — Ow — you are,” She yelped again before she continued, “I can’t think when I am being…Ow.” —
“Spanked?” Regulus asked lightly. His hand fell hard and without a pattern. Sometimes in the centre of her bottom; his hand large enough to cover it entirely. Other times, he’d go to her sit-spots and smack in the same spot for a while. “I will not let you go until you tell me. So think. I have all night.”
Cordelia buried her face in his pillow and Regulus smothered a smile. He had hard days, full of doing things that he did not think he would ever do. Things Sirius would recount to his grave when he died as excuses for why he did not come visit him. He had even harder nights when he digested that he was wrong and blinded by his upbringing. The only reprieve to such hard times was Cordelia, his three friends, and the hope that he could defeat Voldemort. Or at least, help with defeating him.
“Ow, stop.”
“Do you have an answer for me?” Regulus asked firmly. He saw her nod but no words were spoken. He began to smack her sit-spots again, harder and three smacks in one spot. She kicked again, yelping harder.
“I think you need an incentive,” Regulus said seriously, “I also think this little bit here would provide it most adequately.”
“Sirius,” Cordelia said before she dissolved into tears. Regulus went back to smacking her bottom, with softer smacks, not that Cordelia would appreciate that anymore. It all must feel the same to her.
“So you thought that Sirius would come?” Regulus slowed the pace of his smacks as she nodded, “Cordelia, you do realise what would happen if he came? You would not be able to sit for a week at least.”
“But…ow…but, Regulus, he’d be here.”
Regulus closed his eyes and then let out a sigh before he picked up the hairbrush. He patted it lightly against the centre of her bottom and it made her tears more audible.
“I know you miss him. Putting yourself at risk however, my love, has never been a matter that either Sirius or I have responded lightly to. I do not just mean the world outside. What you did today was incredibly reckless. Yes, I am a death-eater. Yes, Sirius is a part of the Order. You have to realise, not all death-eaters are my friends. I am a Black and you are too. We have the privilege of our name and many do not. They will not hesitate to take advantage of the situation. The same goes for Sirius. Not everyone in the Order would think of you as his little sister who needs to be excluded from what is going on. Furthermore,” Regulus patted now more firmly than he had been, “If this would not have worked out? And, mon cœur, it did not. What was next? Putting yourself in true danger? What if someone close spotted you there, hm? Do you think Bellatrix would keep her mouth shut? Just because you miss Sirius, you can not run into danger. Do you understand me Cordelia?”
“I do,” a quiet sniffle followed.
“I would kill myself if something were to happen to you.”
Regulus snapped down the brush harder than he ever had. Cordelia, instantly, wailed. She squirmed to get away but the brush snapped down precisely despite that. Regulus let her kick, let her cry and let her promise him a thousand things. He continued to spank her though. The smacks didn’t lessen in force or in number. He smacked her bottom and her sit-spots, heating up the already coloured skin even more.
“Why are you getting your little bare bottom spanked?”
“Because I…ow, ow, ow…put myself in…ow, Regulus, it hurts.”
“In danger?” Regulus asked and moved back to her sit-spots. He smacked in one place for a while and he could tell it hurt her so much more. He never wanted to be the one hurting her but Regulus would rather that Cordelia had trouble sitting down to read than trouble in living. With that in mind, he continued.
Cordelia nodded to his question.
“It hurts, Reggie. I’ll be the goodest girl ever — Ow — it really stings.”
“Good,” Regulus let himself smile a little, “It will remind you to be the goodest girl ever. Especially when you sit down.”
“Wanker,” He heard her and smacked down harder a few times. He threw the hairbrush on his bed and just softly spanked her for another minute. He wanted the impression to stick. Though Cordelia would not be loving him as much in the current moment, Regulus truly loved no one more than her. Perhaps one person as much, but that train had long gone now.
Finally, he stopped. Cordelia didn’t notice immediately and so Regulus pulled her up and against his chest. She grabbed his shirt, crying into his arms. He held her for a long time, he knew she needed it.
“I’m sorry,” Cordelia finally said in a small voice. Regulus looked down at her tear-streaked face and placed a kiss on her nose.
“I’m sorry, too,” Regulus murmured. Cordelia burrowed herself in his arms again. Regulus held her for another moment before patting her bottom to get her up. It worked. Cordelia squealed, standing up in an instant. Regulus stood up with a small huff of laughter.
“Go stand in the corner,” Regulus told her and before she could get a word out, “Think about being the goodest girl ever. You don’t need to put your hands on your head.”
He waited until she did as told. Regulus winced at the bright colour of her bottom, sure that sitting for a few days would make her wince too.
Slowly, Regulus walked to the cupboard and changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. He quickly grabbed an old jersey from when he was a seeker and a pair of his softest shorts before entering the room again. Cordelia was still standing still and he sighed, placing the clothes on his bed. When he opened the door, Cordelia whined.
“No one is here,” Regulus muttered as he picked up the tray, “Besides, nearly everyone knows you would sleep on your tummy tonight. Including Barty.”
Regulus shut the door again and busied himself by pouring the hot chocolate into the cups and sipping his own to make sure it wasn’t too cold or too hot for Cordelia.
“You can come out. I left clothes for you, get dressed. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
Regulus didn’t plan to, but somehow, he found himself fetching another goblet. He knocked on his door and entered to see Cordelia dressed in clothes that were clearly not fitted for her. Still standing.
He rolled his eyes and placed the goblet on his desk. Regulus shifted to sit down on the center of his bed and guided Cordelia to sit on his lap without her bottom touching anything.
They sipped their hot chocolates in silence, Cordelia resting against his chest again. Without tears this time.
“Why did you get a goblet?” Cordelia asked him finally. Regulus shared one of those rare Sirius like grins with her.
“I thought,” He leaned to pick up the bottle of white wine, “We could do with something to go with the chocolates.”
Cordelia smiled and soon, the mugs of hot chocolate were replaced with goblets of wine.
“Do you miss Sirius?” She asked, her head now tucked under his chin so he would not be able to see her.
“I do,” Regulus quietly admitted.
“I have you, you know. When he left, you had…have no one.”
“That’s not true,” Regulus's finger found her lower-jaw and he lifted her face so she could see him. Regulus smiled at Cordelia, “I have you.”