"Come back here! I said come back here, you worthless piece of filth!"
If Sirius Black had heard his mother's shrieks, he didn't let it show, only stormed down the grand staircase in hopes of escaping her.
"We are not through talking about these insulting grades, Sirius!" she continued, never one to lose her pursuit. It only took her a few paces to cross the distance between them, and Sirius found himself face to face with his formidable witch of a mother, Walburga.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was under the impression that that's what you've been rambling about for the past hour," he snapped.
The contact his mother's hand made with his face left a red mark, but Sirius didn't even flinch. Being hit has become a second nature to him when he's with his family.
"You only got an Excellent in Defense Against the Dark Arts!" she screeched, her narrow eyes seeming to light with fire. "Every single ancestor of the Black family has gotten no less than an Outstanding, but leave it to you to lower our standards!"
Sirius just clenched his jaw. He knew it was no use reminding her that an Excellent was a nearly perfect grade on Owls tests, and that any normal parent would see it as a cause for celebration. Not for punishment. But he knew all too well that it would have as much effect as throwing James' invisibility cloak over his head would. How he longed for James to be with him right now.. but unfortunately for Sirius, Christmas "vacation" wouldn't be over until another eight days.
"Out of the goodness of our hearts, we've refrained from disowning you, although you completely humiliated us by joining those heinous Gryffindors." She shuddered as if it physically disturbed her to say that word. "And this is how you choose to repay us? By getting an Excellent? I don't know what I did to deserve getting you as a son."
That probably would've hurt more if she didn't say it on a daily basis, Sirius pondered. "Well I didn't exactly opt for the job either, mother," came his reply.
She raised her hand as if to strike again, but Sirius had been anticipating this, and easily ducked under her arm.
"I wish you were born into a Muggle family!" he heard her call after him. "Then you would be first to go when the Dark Lord finally takes over and rids the world of all the repulsive Mudbloods!"
Sirius found himself stopping dead in his tracks. He could honestly say he doesn't give a rat's arse about his mother's opinion of him, of anything really. But once she starts to talk about Muggle- borns like that.. as if they were a dangerous virus that needed to be exterminated lest it infests the whole wizarding population.. it gets to him. It always has got to him. And now he has had enough.
"You know what mother?" Sirius said, slowing reeling around. "I wish a Muggle-born, too. At last then I wouldn't have to put up with your deluded, sickening moral code." He took a step forward, advancing on her. "You think our last name makes you better than everyone else? Well you're wrong! Because you're nothing but a retched old hag who'll spend the rest of your days pathetically clinging to your bloodline, then will rot in hell for all eternity!"
Walburga Black did not react the way Sirius had expected her to, or rather hoped for. Maybe if she attacked him, he'd finally be able to hex the old bat. Please, he internally begged. Please just give me a reason. Give me an excuse to hurt you. After all these years, I at least deserve that. But she just continued to stare at him, her eyes so intense you'd have think she was trying to make him erupt in flames.
"I'm leaving," he stated, breaking the silent stand-off the mother and son seemed to be in. "I'd rather be slowly tortured than have to spend another minute here with you."
He turned around, but after only two steps felt himself hit the floor with a thud; he didn't understand what was happening until he felt an agonized scream rip from his throat. Soon a sensation he could only describe as scalding hot daggers ripping him open then setting him on fire took hold, and he could only thrash and scream in protest. It couldn't have lasted longer than ten seconds, but Sirius could've sworn he had just lost a lifetime during those fleeting moments.
He felt himself shaking, shaking horribly, with a strange premonition that he was in danger of spontaneously combusting. He then vaguely recalls hearing footsteps and recognizing the owner of a wand that suddenly came into view.
"What's the matter?" asked his mother in a mocking concerned voice, as she leaned over him. Sirius could imagine a nasty smile curling her lip right about now; she has a tendency to do that when ever she causes him a great amount of pain. "Didn't you say you'd like to be slowly tortured? Or am I just so batty and old that my hearing is playing tricks on me now?"
She let out a laugh, but it wasn't her usual mirthless one. The sound she was making resembled a cackle, one with the undertone of gleefulness to it. Sirius was going to be sick.
Walburga crouched down next to her sixteen-year-old son, who had begun to breath stiltedly, and brought her wand up close enough to his face that he could make out the engravings on it. His eyes widened, and she let out a chuckle, seeming to find his fear amusing.
"Can't even handle a measly old Cruciatus Curse, can you?" she said softly, though Sirius doesn't remember ever hearing her voice sound colder. "You think your strong, don't you? That you're invincible?" She lowered the wand so it hovered a mere inch above Sirius's forehead. His breath seemed to quicken with this act.
"I could kill you right now," she stated unemotionally. It was just a fact to her, a fact that she could take her son's life while he lay in this vulnerable position and not think twice about it. That was why Sirius screwed his eyes shut, afraid he had gone too far this time. That this was where he would meet his end. That feeling was amplified once he felt the wooden tip make contact with his face. "But why would I soil my hands on a pathetic, weak little boy like yourself?"
With that she pushed herself off her feet, and dusted off her expensive robes, like threatening the life of her own child was nothing more than an everyday occurrence to her. She let out another laugh as she watched Sirius gasping, obviously straining to regulate his breathing, and she shook her head like it was just all too ridiculous.
"Now, why don't you leave before I do something I definitely won't regret," Walburga said with a sigh, flicking her wrist as if to inspect her wand for damage. "I'll send you a picture of the tapestry once you've been blasted off." And then she turned and walked away.
Sirius stared up at the ceiling, the high, detailed ceiling and tried his best to swallow the emotion that was beginning to creep up his throat. He needed to not think. Yes, that was the problem, he was thinking all too much right now. He needn't remind himself that he was here, lying on the floor, because his own mother had just preformed the torture curse on him. That he could see Kreacher, their house elf, looking at him right now, and there was definitely a smile on that hideous face of his. That he was almost convinced that his mother was about to kill him.
It took every fiber of his being to do it, but he finally forced himself onto his hands, then knees, then slowly stumbled to his feet. He Apparated to his room then, not particularly caring whether or not he was allowed to yet (he had known how to do it for years now, he might as well put it to use) and then packed all his belongings with a single snap of his wand. Sirius was grateful that only one thought was plaguing his mind at the moment; that he had to get out of here. Had to for years, but it was all too easy to forget about this part of his life, seeing how easy it was to slip into the one waiting for him at Hogwarts. The one with his real family in it; the ones who would never truly abandon him, unlike those here who seemed prone to do just that.
That's why when he Apparated, Sirius thought of the only place he truly wanted to be: Godrick's Hollow.