Nevermore
Sirius looked out of his bedroom window. The ground outside was covered with a thick layer of snow and he could see no one on the street. It was night and the stars were twinkling in the sky. His parents were fast asleep and so was his darling brother, Regulus. He was sure that all the house elves were busy dozing off too.
It was final; he have had enough of his family's nonsense about blood purity and whatnot. He had enough of his little brother being the definition of perfect. He had enough of that foolish Kreacher mocking him behind his back. He was nevermore coming back here.
He had become so depressed by the fact of his inability to comply with his family's traditions and to uphold their values that he had decided to run away.
He was jealous of his sleeping brother. He had resigned himself to escape this year. Some would have called this self-indulgence (they were lucky not to know its truth). Some would have known the simple fact of pain.
This was becoming his normality.
So, Sirius Orion Black decided to run away, away, away.
He wanted to punch them where it hurt. "Screw them," he muttered lowly.
The air from the open window almost froze his cheeks and he turned one last time to look at his bedroom. It was red and gold - the colours he preferred over green and silver any day - and various Gryffindor banners were hanging from the ceiling. Sirius rubbed his hands together for warmth and tightened his yellow and maroon Gryffindor scarf around his neck. He saw it for one last time before turning into his Animagus form.
A black, hairy dog jumped from a window on the second floor of Twelve, Grimauld Place and landed with a dull thump on the snow clad ground. It howled in pain as a bone got slightly fractured in one of its hind legs, but nonetheless, it stood up and ran on the path illuminated by the pale moonlight.
It was never coming back. The brightest star in the night sky shined over its head and it ran, ran and just ran, at last free and happy.