"Kreacher, tea. In my sitting room" Walburga commanded, mere seconds after she stepped out of the immaculate fireplace of Grimmauld Place, Regulus at her side.

There were no soot smuts to be vanished from their cloaks and robes - the Black fireplace would never be allowed to descend into such a state as that of the Leaky Cauldron's communal hearth. The lady of the house would have her house elf's fingers scorched should he dare to allow anything of the sort to occur.

"Of course, Mistress, right away" Kreacher mumbled obediently, staggering slightly on the spot under the heavy weight of his pile of packages, not yet having been told where to sit them down.

"Put the parcels in the first floor storage cupboard" Orion instructed, noticing the sneaky side-glances his eldest son was giving the wrapped wand box on the top of the pile.

"And ensure that they stay there until the appropriate time that they are next required", he added, firmly.

"Yes, Master" Kreacher replied politely, giving Orion a courtesy nod - notably less enthusiastic to receive orders from him than from his beloved mistress.

"We'll dine at seven o'clock today, I think, not eight.. It's been a tiring day"

Kreacher gave another humble nod and hurried off to complete his list of tasks.

With that, Orion turned away from his wife and sons and made his way out of the room, no doubt retreating to the sanctuary of his study once more until dinner.

"Boys-"

Regulus's head snapped up attentively at the sound of his mother's voice. Sirius reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the retreating house elf on his mission to lock away his new wand.

"Go to your rooms until dinner" Walburga instructed her sons. "And change into appropriate robes before you come down"

"Yes, Mother" Regulus chirped obediently.

"Fine" said Sirius.

Walburga's grey gaze fixed on her eldest.

"And when I tell you to go to your room, that means I expect you to go straight there and to stay there, Sirius Orion"

"Of course" Sirius replied with a sweet smile.

Walburga eyed her firstborn knowingly for a moment, before tapping both her boys briskly on the back.

"Off you go, then"

Regulus followed behind his brother as the two boys obeyed their mother's orders, heading towards the staircase.

As soon as they were out of their mother's view, however, Sirius suddenly shot off, leaping up the stairs at a fast pace.

"Sirius, slow down!" the younger boy panted as he struggled to keep up with his elder brother as he raced up the stairs two at a time.

"Hurry up, Reg! If we're quick we can still catch him!"

"Catch who? Wait for me!"

As they reached the first floor landing, Sirius dashed ahead towards the figure of the house elf carefully loading his pile of parcels into the storage cupboard set into the wall at the very end of the hallway.

"Kreacher!" Sirius called out, his urgent voice puzzling Regulus, who had finally caught up with him and was panting heavily from the effort of the chase.

The house elf's bat-like ears perked up in a dog-like way at the sound of his name, pausing in the middle of his task.

"Kreacher, you have to go to the kitchen, quick!" Sirius urged him as he came to a halt in front of the startled elf, catching his breath. "The doxies are back!"

Regulus cocked his head up at his brother with a puzzled look.

There were no more doxies in the kitchen. Kreacher had cleared out the infestation several weeks ago, following an incident where a surprise swarm of the pests had successfully demolished a week's worth of food and trashed the kitchen for good measure. Sirius had loudly protested that he was not to blame, after being seen to find the incident suspiciously amusing, before Kreacher reluctantly proved the boy's innocence by finding the chewed hole in the floorboard behind the oven where the swarm had sneaked into the house.

On pain of being ordered to whip the soles of his own feet until they bled, Kreacher had taken pains to prevent another infestation, reparing the floorboard and giving the kitchen a going over with doxycide at least once a week in desperation to prevent a repeat.

The house elf gasped, his eyes widening in alarm for a moment before narrowing suspiciously up at Sirius.

"Kreacher knows Master Sirius likes his little tricks. Kreacher is sure there are no doxies in the kitchen. Kreacher keeps the kitchen clean and safe. Oh yes, he does. Kreacher will not have doxies in his kitchen. What would Kreacher's mistress say to any more foul pests-"

"It's true, Kreacher!" Sirius snapped urgently over the house elf's rambling. "We saw them ourselves, just now. Didn't we, Reg?"

The younger Black's grey eyes widened in panic for a moment before meeting his elder brother's urging gaze. He knew what that look meant.

"Yes, we did" Regulus nodded in agreement at Kreacher. "It's true, really"

Knowing as he did that the younger brother was far more trustworthy than the elder, Kreacher's suspicion vanished instantly, replaced by one of anguish.

"Oh no, no no no" he gabbled to himself, clutching his shaking head with his hands. "Kreacher must fix this, he must! No more doxies, Mistress was very clear. Oh, how will Kreacher ever be forgiven?"

Still muttering to himself in panic, Kreacher disappeared in an instant with a loud crack, off to investigate the situation down in the kitchen. The cupboard door was left swung open, the house elf's task left unfinished in his haste.

Sirius's unusually anxious demeanour vanished instantly, replaced by a more familiar sneaky smile.

"He's far too easy, honestly" the boy laughed to himself, flicking his black hair out of his eyes.

"Why did you do that?" Regulus asked, baffled.

"To get my wand back before the little cretin locks it away, obviously" said Sirius, sinking to his knees to rifle through the pile of packages, half-packed into the cupboard.

Regulus glanced around him anxiously, sure that at any moment they would be caught. But the hallway behind them remained mercifully empty and silent.

"Aha!"

Sirius pulled out of the pile the long, thin wand box, wrapped in brown parcel paper.

"Sirius, no! You can't just take it"

"And why not?" Sirius demanded, raising his eyebrows at his brother. "It's my wand, isn't it? Why should they take it away from me?"

Regulus dithered, his automatic answer of "Because Father said so" sounding feeble when pitted against his brother's look of determined defiance.

Sirius snatched up the wand box and tore off the parcel paper. He slid the wand box out of its cover and, surprisingly carefully, pulled his wand out of its box.

He twirled the jet-black ebony wood between his fingers, smiling at the familiar warm, tingling sensation that ran through his fingertips as he brushed them over the intricate runs carved into the wood.

"It's so pretty" Regulus breathed, staring at the wand in awe.

"Yep. And it's powerful, too. I can feel it" said Sirius proudly. "And it's mine"

Catching his brother by surprise, Sirius suddenly took off back down the hallway, his wand clutched in his hand, the rest of the untouched parcels containing his school books, equipment and robes abandoned without a second glance.

"Now where are you going?" called Regulus, scampering after his tireless brother.

"To show old Phineas that he was wrong!" Sirius called back down the hallway. "And scarpering before that elf gets back!"

Sirius led the way up the winding staircase, jumping the steps two at a time again. Regulus hurried after him, careful not to trip on the long hem of his cloak. Sirius darted along the hallway, skidding to a halt in front of the large, golden-framed portrait containing a snoozing Phineas Nigellus Black.

"Oi, wake up!" Sirius barked up at the portrait rudely. "Look what I've got!"

The dozing painted man, slouched in his chair, head rested in his palm, gave a choked snore as he awoke from his nap. He glanced about in confusion for a second before looking down, sneering at his great-great-grandson.

"You again" said Phineas in a decidedly unwelcoming tone. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Sirius held up his wand proudly. with a triumphant smile.

Phineas's eyes widened in interest.

"Ah, so a wand settled for you after all, then?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"It did more than settle" Sirius shot back, twirling his wand in his fingers, something Regulus noticed was fast becoming a habit in the short time his brother had owned his wand.

"Did I hear talk of a wand being successfully acquired?"

The voice of Sirius Black II rang through the portrait, a few seconds before the painted son of Phineas Nigellus entered the frame to stand beside his father. He peered down at the two young brothers, eager to see the newest wand to join the proud line of Black family wands.

"Hold it up then, boy, let us have a proper look" Sirius told his young namesake.

The younger Sirius held the sleek, black wand up again, and the two painted men peered down at it curiously.

"Hmm, yes, very elegant, I must say" said Sirius II. "An elm, then, is it?"

"Ha!" Phineas smirked in amusement. "All that tripe about 'boring old elms' and the boy goes and gets one himself!"

"It's not an elm!" Sirius protested, his tone insulted. "And your elm still is boring"

"Hold your tongue, boy" Phineas hissed.

"No, no, its far too dark for an elm, Father" Phineas's son shook his head. "It's a black walnut, surely"

"Don't be a fool, boy" Phineas snapped at his son stood beside him. "Black walnuts require an owner with sincerity and good instincts-"

He turned to jerk his head down towards the young Sirius critically.

"-Neither traits of which it would find in this one"

"Shut up, you stupid old man" Sirius hissed back at the painting, lowering his wand from the painting's critical gaze and clutching it tight in his fist. "And anyway, its not that either. It's an ebony wand"

"Ah, yes, ebony, of course" said Sirius Black II, nodding approvingly. "A courageous wand, indeed"

The eleven-year-old beamed proudly.

"A fool-hardy wand, more like" Phineas huffed, leaning on one arm in his chair in disinterest.

"It's a powerful wand" Sirius bragged. "It's core is phoenix feather"

At this statement, the heads of both painted men snapped towards the child in surprise.

Phineas Nigellus sat up straight and rigid in his chair, alert once more.

"What did you say, boy?" he demanded.

"My wand" Sirius said proudly. "It has a phoenix feather core"

Phineas slumped back in his chair and waved one arm hopelessly.

"What did I tell you?" he said to his son. "I said the boy would end up with a dud"

"It's not a dud!" Sirius shouted back.

"Be reasonable, Father, the wand is still a decent wood, regardless of core" Sirius II reasoned with his father, though the disappointed look on his own face gave away his true thoughts completely - this was an unfortunate day for the House of Black.

"Not good enough for a dragon heartstring wand after all then, eh?" Phineas continued relentlessly, deaf to the boy's protests.

"I was good enough!" Sirius argued. "In fact, I was too good for the dragon wands"

Phineas threw back his head and chuckled in amusement.

"Oh I see! Too good for a dragon wand, are you?" he repeated, mockingly. "Then, pray tell, how you ended up saddled with a lesser core?"

"It's not really a lesser core" Regulus piped up timidly, flinching slightly as the painted figures of his ancestors diverted their gazes towards him, but nevertheless wanting to attempt to defend his brother from the onslaught against his wand. "Just... different"

"We are Blacks, child" Phineas snapped at the younger Black brother stood before him. "We do not do different"

"Well, we do now" Sirius huffed haughtily. "My wand core is rarer than your regular old dragon cores. Phoenix feathers only choose those with special qualities. Ollivander said so"

"Poppycock" Phineas scoffed. "That old man was only trying to humour you, make you feel a bit better about not making the cut for a dragon wand"

"It's true!"

Regulus could see the frustration gathering in his brother's features, the volcano that was his temper threatening to erupt. His shoulders were tense, his eyes scowling, his foot rubbing against the ground as he fought against the urge to stamp it angrily. He'd seen it all plenty of times before. Right before his brother dissolved into a tantrum and was banished to his room to cool down.

"Calm down, child" Sirius the elder urged, his patronisingly calm voice only further igniting the younger Sirius's anger. "Oh dear, what a day..." he sighed, shaking his head. "The first Black to not receive a dragon heartstring wand in... how long has it been, Father?"

"Not long enough" Phineas snapped grumpily. "Trust this insolent whelp to go and ruin centuries of tradition"

Regulus stared sympathetically at his brother. He could see Sirius's resolve beginning to break. Despite appearances, anger was not the only way in which his brother was capable of responding to scathing remarks.

He looked away as Sirius glanced sideways at him, clearly checking to see if Regulus had spotted him harshly blink away the telling shine in his grey eyes.

"Well, I don't care what either of you say" Sirius said defiantly, his head held high. "My wand is better than all of yours put together. My magic is better than all of yours put together, too. I wasn't too stupid for a dragon wand, you were all too stupid for a phoenix wand"

"My dear boy, the core of one's wand is not a demonstration of one's intelligence" Sirius II shook his head. "Did you learn nothing in your wandlore lessons?"

"I learned enough to know that you're wrong" Sirius replied through gritted teeth. "Ollivander said phoenix cores are special and that my magic is special, and that's why my wand chose me.

"You ought to tread carefully, boy" Phineas warned, narrowing his eyes darkly down at the young Black heir before him.

"Take care with how much faith you put in the flattering words of outsiders, child" Sirius II urged, in a more gentle but no less serious tone.

"Indeed" his father took over, leaning forward in his painted chair. "The words of outsiders are only worth so much, even know-it-all wandsmiths. You are a Black, first and foremost. Our great dynasty has survived for hundreds of years through the strength and security of tradition, which, for better or worse, you have broken today. Don't allow this fanciful idea of your phoenix wand making you special to go to your head. At the end of it all, you're just the same as the rest of us"

"I am nothing at all like you" spat Sirius, his voice firm, his new wand clenched tight in his hand.

The eleven-year-old boy turned away form the frame, the paintings of his ancestors with their respective looks of anger and concern, and his stunned little brother. He marched off towards his bedroom door at the end of the landing.

His hand rested on the handle of his bedroom door as he turned his head back for a moment, a playful smirk curled onto his lips.

"As if I'd ever grow such a ridiculous beard"

With a mischievous smirk, Sirius entered his bedroom and closed the door firmly behind him.

Regulus could hear a faint clattering noise from behind the wood; no doubt the sound of his brother's attempts to hide his wand for as long as possible before it's inevitable confiscation until his first day of school.

"Your brother will come crashing back down to reality sooner or later" said Phineas as he slouched back down in his chair, running a hand thoughtfully through the beard his great-great-grandson had mocked so callously.

"He didn't mean it" Regulus retorted, meekly. "He really wanted a dragon wand, honest"

"I'm sure he did" said Sirius Black II, shaking his head sadly. "Alas, I'm afraid want and need are rarely one in the same"