The Sugar Quill
Author: Ronniekins  Story: Always Pure  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

Disclaimer: Everything is JKR's

Disclaimer: Everything is JKR's.

Author's Notes: Yay! I'm on the Quill! Thanks to NightZephyr for beta-ing.

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Sirius is different from all of us. If you saw him out on the street, with those stupid friends of his, you would never, ever think that he lived here. He doesn’t belong here. Sirius has everything: the good looks, the smarts, the popularity, the friends, the girls drooling over him. I’m almost jealous. But I have something that he doesn’t.

Mother likes me.

She doesn’t approve of anything Sirius does; it’s like she doesn’t even listen to what he says. The answer is always no for him. But if I ask her the same question, she’ll smile and say, "Of course, Regulus. See, Sirius, how much better a son he is than you?"

I don’t like when she says that.

There was a time when Sirius and I were friends, when we were kids. I only really have one memory of that time, when I was three and he was five.

We were at Uncle Leon and Aunt Phyllis’ house, visiting our cousins Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix. Narcissa is like an ice queen, beautiful, never ever getting dirty or muddy or putting one fine golden hair out of place. I used to think I was in love with her, once upon a time.

Bellatrix is Uncle Leon’ favorite, as I am Mother’s. She’s smart and beautiful, but she is nothing like Narcissa. She would be the one who would think of some wild thing for us to do, she and Sirius, and then we’d agree. Bellatrix was in charge.

And of course, Andromeda, the meek middle sister. She wasn’t as beautiful as Bella or Cissa, who were like the dark and the light. Andromeda had long hair, like her sisters, but hers was a rich brown. She had, as all of us Black children did, the trademark eyes that came from being born into our family: pale gray.

Bella had a new idea that time: we would be people from the middle ages. Cissa didn’t want to play; she was due to start her second year at Hogwarts in a month, and considered herself too old for childish play. Bella convinced her in time; Bella’s like that.

Cissa was automatically the princess that we were fighting over; all she had to do was sit on the "throne" looking regal, which wasn’t hard at all for her. Bella was the captain of the enemy, and chose me as her "army", even though I was only three. Sirius declared himself lord of the "fair queen’s guards". Andromeda was the last to be chosen, as Sirius’ co-captain.

We all grabbed sticks, which we would use as swords. Bella gave the call.

"One, two, three, GO!"

Bella and Sirius ran immediately for each other, and Andromeda and I faced off. I’m a pretty good fighter, if I do say so myself, even if I was only three at the time. Andromeda is a weakling, skinny and shy, and she didn’t want to hurt me.

Bella and Sirius had about the same strength, and the same talent, even though Sirius is three years younger. Long after Andromeda and I were done, they were still at it. We sat down to watch. Even Cissa looked up from filing her nails, which was something, considering Cissa.

Suddenly Sirius tripped on a rock, and Bella, shrieking triumphantly, stabbed him in the stomach. My brother toppled over and lay still and, to my absolute horror, lifeless.

I screamed and ran for Sirius. I was crying, praying that he wasn’t dead. I called his name over and over again, hoping for him to respond.

I was only three, remember that.

Sirius’ eyes snapped open, and he asked me why I was crying. Grateful that my brother wasn’t dead, I wrapped him into a big bear hug. "I thought you were dead," I sobbed into his shoulder. "I thought you had left me."

"Oh, Reggie," he said, calling me by the nickname placed on me when I was born, and Sirius couldn’t say ‘Regulus’. "I’d never, ever leave you."

"Promise?" I sniffed.

"I promise. We’ll be bestest friends forever."

He lied.


The mere sight of her sends shivers up and down my spine. She rains kisses upon my lips, delighting the both of us. I’ve never had a better time. She whispers my name over and over again. I hear it. I need to hear it. It brings me back to reality, away from the place where we only exist. I feel the curve of her breast on my chest, pressing to my heart, making it beat faster. I’ve waited so long for this.

And it’s happening.


As Sirius grew older, he became braver, more daring. He pushed Mother to the limit. How much can a person take from a seven-, eight-, and nine-year-old until they break? He pestered her for three years before she did. He blew up the bathroom, and with it wrecking our parent’s wedding vase, which was very expensive and given to them by our deceased grandparents.

Mother gave him a handful of the Cruciatus.

That only made him worse.

I was almost glad when Sirius went to Hogwarts; the house would be quiet now. It was just me, Mother, occasionally Father, and our house-elf, Kreacher. Kreacher hated Sirius. Mother was his favorite. He respected Father, and obeyed me without question, but it was my mother that he loved. Kreacher had hated Sirius, ever since he was a child and thought it would be funny to stick Kreacher’s head down the toilet. Kreacher had to do it, as Sirius was ‘young Master Black’, but the expression of extreme dislike never washed off his face.

I never saw Mother as angry as when she found out Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. He was her first-born; even if she didn’t approve of him, Mother still loved Sirius.

Father was purple; he obviously thought more of his son as well. Mother started cursing random things, setting the letter from Bella informing them of the news on fire. I backed away slowly out of the room, but Mother caught me, and kneeled down, so we could see each other eye to eye.

"Regulus," she said. It was scary how calm she was. She had almost set the house on fire seconds before. "Promise me that, whatever happens, you won’t end up like your brother. In the Mudblood lover house..." Mother spat on the ground in disgust at the name. "I could not deal with having both my sons there. Follow in Bellatrix and Narcissa’s footsteps. Uphold the family name. Teach Hogwarts what it means to be a Black."

"Y- yes, Mother," I stutter.


The feel of flesh against flesh, lips against lips, is an amazing one. She is amazing. She is my life. I have been made only for her. The way she talks, the way she laughs, cries, moves, anything she does, isn’t real. It can’t be. It’s too beautiful.

She is beautiful


I love the sheer amazement of the ceiling of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Whoever came up with the idea of making it look like the sky outside should be awarded for being a genius. I watched it: the gray clouds filled with rain, almost ready to storm, the silver light of the crescent moon, the faint sight of the stars. I paid so much attention to the ceiling that I almost didn’t notice when Professor McGonagall, the headmistress, called my name.

"Black, Regulus!"

I trudged towards the Sorting Hat. Bella had told me about it on the train, how you put it on and it picks your house for you. There have been no Slytherins in this Sorting yet, and I hope to be the first one.

The Sorting Hat droops over my eyes.

"Hmm..." The voice echoes in my head. "Another Black... Well, you certainly aren’t like your brother... No Gryffindor for you..."

Please Slytherin... Slytherin... I think.

"No, you aren’t a Hufflepuff... But you have got a joy for learning... Hmm... Interesting... SLYTHERIN!" The Sorting Hat screams the last word for the whole school to hear, and I proudly sit down at the table decked in silver and green. Bella gives me a small smile, which I return. I sit back and watch the others.

It was then that I met Alycone.

There were no new Slytherins in the next seven, and I was getting worried. Would I be the only one in my house? I watched a small blond girl step up to the stool, and place the Hat on her head. It immediately calls out, "SLYTHERIN!"

I applaud along with the other members of our table. The girl sits down next to me. "I’m Alycone Gorgon. You are...?"

"Regulus Black," I say, and we shake hands. It was then that I get a good glimpse of her face.

She is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, reminding me of Narcissa, but yet she is so much more. They both have the same long blond hair, carefully brushed so that every hair is where they want it to be. Instead of Cissa’s cold gray eyes, Alycone had large brown ones, full of innocence and beauty. I am speechless.

We watch the rest of the Sorting together. There aren’t many Slytherins in our year. We only have me, Alycone, Orpheus White, George Tomes, and Kathleen Nightingale. Orpheus reminds me of Sirius, before he went to school and made friends with the stupid Potter boy. He makes corny jokes, especially the "Black and White" one, which he repeats time after time. Kathleen is sort of a snob, telling us how rich she is. George acts like he’s the king or something, and Orpheus and I don’t like him that much.

Still, for the first time in my life, I’m really, truly happy.


I don’t know what time it is. I live in another dimension, where time doesn’t exist. And even if it did, I wouldn’t care. I’d pretend it didn’t. Because she is all that matters.

It has been so long since I’ve seen her like this, vulnerable and lovely at the same time. Her eyes close, and I wish for them to open. I want to see those depths of chocolate, pulling me into a place where I’ve never risked going before.


I got through school fairly easily; my best subjects were Charms and Potions. Orpheus was my best friend for the entire seven years I was there. George was the outsider. Alycone befriended us, but mostly hung out with older, wiser Slytherins. I think she got the Dark Mark when she was sixteen, like Bella did. I wanted to join Voldemort’s ranks. All the others were doing it, and it would definitely make Mother proud. I was her baby, the one she bragged about to other mothers. She never mentioned Sirius. He ran away when I was fourteen, and Mother blasted him off the family tree.

I was nineteen when I finally had the courage to joining the Death Eaters. I was right; Mother was proud-- Father too. He spoke to me and told me how glad he was that I, Regulus Black, was his son. It was a feeling of belonging that I had never felt before, and I craved it.

The Death Eaters were the winning side, the ones who would dominate in the end. I was at the bottom of their ranks, branded with the Dark Mark for merely three months, when some of the higher ranking officials called me, Orpheus, and a few others who I didn’t know, in to give us an assignment: kill the Bones family.

I was thrilled at this assignment; finally, a chance to show them what I could really do! We landed just outside their house and went in.

It was horrible.

I still have nightmares about it.

We burst open their front door, ready to fight. John and a very pregnant Cornelia Bones looked up at us, wands out, seconds away from uttering the Killing Curse, and screamed.

"NO!" cried John Bones, throwing himself in front of his wife. Orpheus killed him.

It was then that I began to vomit.

They tortured Cornelia, slashing open her stomach, hitting her with the Cruciatus. I saw it all. I couldn’t peel my eyes off of her.

Finally, after five minutes, she was dead. The floor was covered in blood.

And I was still vomiting.

An anonymous Death Eater shot the Dark Mark into the sky.

I still vomited.

"Regulus?" said a voice above me. "Is that you?"

I recognized it immediately. Alycone.

"Alycone?" She kneeled down next to me.

"Don’t worry," she said, voice soft and angelic. "I threw up after my first attack too. Hell, I still do."

"Really?" I was amazed to see Alycone here. From what I had heard, she was at the top of Voldemort’s ranks.

"Yes, really," she laughed. It was eerie; I was so used to hearing her giggle.

"I killed them. I helped kill them. And she was pregnant, too. They were going to have a baby. And I murdered them."

Alycone’s face didn’t change; it was like a mask. Once again, she reminded me of Narcissa, an ice queen.

I continued. Surely Alycone wouldn’t turn me in for what I was going to say next. She was my friend. "I... I’m not sure if being a Death Eater is really my thing."

Her expression didn’t change.

She bit her lip, thinking of what to say next. "Regulus... I... I feel the same way. But we can’t get out. There is no way."

"Yes there is," I said, persistent. I was glad that someone felt the same way that I did. "There has to be."

"Of course there is... of course..." she murmured, running her fingers through her hair. "Regulus." She said my name as if she had a sudden idea. "Would you like to go to dinner with me on Saturday?"

I was startled at the abruptness of this question. I had had a crush on Alycone Gorgon for years, ever since I first met her. I had never had the courage to ask her out; it was no wonder that the Sorting Hat didn’t even consider me as a Gryffindor. "Of course, Alycone. I’d like that very much."


Alycone, I whisper over and over again. Her name is beautiful.


Alycone’s head lies on my chest, and I feel the rhthym of her breathing on me. Her heart beat, calm and forceful, pulses against my arm. She turns her head, and looks into my eyes.

"I love you," I whisper. She gives a small smile.

I expected something like "I don’t know if I love you", or "I’m not ready for this", or even an "I love you too". But I would have never, in my wildest thoughts, have guessed what she was going to do.

"You know what I say to that?" she says, coming up towards my face and covering my lips with hers. One of her arms leaves my side for a moment, but I make nothing of it.

Alycone pulls away an inch or so. "What?" I ask.

That is my last word.

A wand points against my chest.

"Avada Kedavra."

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