Through the eyes of an onlooker the house wasn’t out of the ordinary. Its walls were slathered with a dark, forest green that shut out much of the light coming in through the windows. However, there was a large chandelier hanging in the center of each room, producing its own candle light. Each room was brightly lit, but was yet darkened at the same time.

It seemed to be a beautiful old mansion that could hold lots of fond memories. It could hold years of life, happiness, and joy. It could hold generations of loving families within it, and start many generations more. The house was so lavishly decorated, so spotless and welcoming, that one could almost call it a beautiful home.

But that was only through the eyes of someone who had not lived here. For someone who had spent many of his childhood years in this godforsaken place, it had quite a different feel. For them, it really did hold memories, and many of those memories were those they may not like to remember.

Two young boys suffered in this wretched household. They had eaten there, slept there, and lived there. If anyone knew the life of someone who lived in a cursed house, it was these two young men.

Regulus was the younger of the two, having not survived through everything his older brother had. He was often thought of as spoiled, although not everyone knew where he really stood. He followed the rules his parents gave him, pretended to believe in the same things, and even reworked his mind to be placed in the house his family supported. Not many people are able to be perceived so differently then how they really feel, but this boy was one of those rare cases.

When the young wizard looked at the old house, he saw a land of deception, yet he also saw the pride his mother held within him. The dark-haired child glanced at his Slytherin robes placed neatly in his drawers, and his pages of ramblings torn and shoved under his bed. His childhood home held many memories-- those that he was proud of, and those he wasn’t.

But the other boy, Sirius, had a much different story to tell. He was not afraid of showing the real person that resided within his body. He was not scared of showing the world what he thought and how he felt. And he definitely was not worried about disappointing the parents that never loved him. Sirius was his own person, and what did he care if his family could never appreciate that.

When the handsome teenager looked upon the dreary house, he saw nothing but pain and suffering. Unlike his brother, he saw only the darkness the mansion held, and couldn’t care less for the fake light that tried to shine in it. When his grey eyes rested upon the place he was forced to call home, only sorrowful memories danced across his mind.

In essence, Sirius no longer wanted to endure the life he had lived in this awful place. He was done with being looked down upon; he was done with feeling guilty for doing something he was proud of. And he was most definitely done with trying to live up to the family’s name. He cared not one bit about his surname and family ‘history’, and couldn’t wait for the day when he could shed it.

But the young teen had decided this long ago. He had known before he had even done anything wrong that this family was not the right one for him. But because of his damn loyalty, he had stayed with the family that despised him. One day, though, he knew he would get away.

“Sirius,” the younger boy called up the stairs as he slowly began to ascend the steps. “You’d better get downstairs. Mother’s in a rage about your latest slew of detentions, and you wouldn’t want her do to something rash.”

Sirius could tell his brother was trying to taunt him, but trying was all he was succeeding to do. For the older brother knew what the young boy had lived through, and he knew what the mind of an adolescent living in this house thought like. The younger brother felt the pain the older one had to live with, but he simply never let it on to anyone. As the younger lived for deception if it meant getting his way in life. He would never let anybody, much less his mother, find out about how much he felt for his sibling inside.

“Why doesn’t she just give up and let me be? She’s already yelled at me to the freaking point of insanity!” Sirius roared, more to himself than anyone else. Nevertheless, he rose from his desk and entered the hallway.

“If you would just listen to what she tells us, you wouldn’t be in such trouble.” The young teen often tried to change the ways of his brother, just to ensure he would see him live to the next day. But these efforts always proved futile, for Sirius was not someone to be pushed around.

“Why don’t you just keep your mouth shut and let me deal with my own problems?”

Sirius scowled at his brother, yet smiled inside. He wasn’t going to let on that he was proud, but he knew that his brother cared about him. Neither of them ever said any kind words to one another, but they held an inner connection that only those of the same blood could ever hold. They both thought the same way.

“Sirius, I’m not going to joke with you. You know Mother, when she gets really angry, she tends to do things. You’ve disappointed her more than ever this time, and we wouldn’t want-”

“We don’t want anything, Regulus. I’m the only one who has control over my life. Someday, you’ll learn that. But for now, you’re always going to be the bratty younger sibling that I’m supposed to be jealous of. Only let me tell you one thing, I care nothing about you, or this family, or this house, or any of this bloody stuff I have to deal with when I’m here. I hate this, and I’m not going to suffer from it any longer.”

Sirius knew he didn’t mean everything he said. He definitely cared for Regulus, but only to the point of appreciation. He could surely admire that his sibling had to endure the rest of his lifetime in this terrible household, but he could never trust the boy who never stood up for him, even when it was obvious that Sirius was right. In the end, they were never meant to be close to one another.

“Just listen to me-”

“No! I’m sick of listening! I’m sick of everything! Just let me go, and don’t try to talk to me.”

By this time, the two boys were almost shouting at one another as they stood conversing in the hallway. Both their voices sounded all the way down the stairs and into the room already being filled with screams from the mouth of their mother. From the outside, the entire house seemed to be filled with anger as it shook from the foundation. No other place in the area, or in the city, seemed as daunting.

But to the older boy, these sounds were screams of joy. He was simply going to be a bystander on this scene and never again would he suffer the wrath of his mother. He would be looking in from the outside, and that was if he ever chose to look at all. Because tonight, this young wizard was going to leave that house for good, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

Years later he may come back simply to look at the home he had once resided in. But when he does, he would not be seeing it as a member of the family who was trapped inside. Because when, and if, this adolescent does return, he would be viewing it through the eyes of an onlooker.