"You're breaking my heart, Sirius, breaking my bloody heart!" The witch paced back and forth frantically in the small parlor, her black hair clutched tightly in her veiny hands.

"Mum, you're not listening to me! I can't live here anymore – I just can't. All your pure-blood talk and bigoted-" Sirius took a deep breath. Once he had calmed himself down, he tried again, softly saying, "Mum, I'll be back for Christmas, I promise. I just can't stand another day of her."

As if on cue, the clipping sound of heels rang through the large house as his cousin sauntered down the stairs. She passed Sirius, smiled at her aunt, and then sank down into a dark velvet chair. A smirk flicked across her silent face as she crossed her netted-stocking legs.

"Bellatrix" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "Stay out of this."

His mother turned to him, "This is exactly what I'm talking about. We're a family, be civil to your cousin! Bella's such a nice girl." She moved over to her niece and patted her shoulder lovingly. Sirius felt boiling blood and rising bile.

"Listen to Mummy, Sirius." Her surprisingly girlish voice drawled the words slowly, as her dark eyes flashed with laughter. Sirius looked down at the older girl and then to his mother.

"Either she leaves, or I do."

"Now Sirius, don't be silly. Family-"

"Don't tell me about family!" He could feel his voice starting to break. He hated it, but couldn't seem to find the will to fight it. "Where's father? It's been, what, five years since I've seen him? He's too busy off gallivanting with his Death Eater buddies. And what about you, do you ever even pretend to bother with me? No, your stupid Dark Art's 'Book Club' takes up too much of your time. So, don't talk to me about family." He hitched his backpack over his shoulder and turned to the door.

His mother's voice, icy and slow, stopped him. "If you step out of this house now, don't you ever think about coming back."

Sirius turned, taking another look around the parlor. Narcissa peaked from the stairwell, her blonde hair curtaining around her as she stared wide eyed at the scene. He turned his attention back to his mother – she had never looked so old. Her hair was dry and stringy, a perfect complement to her sickly frame. Bags pooled under her angry, hurt filled eyes. Lastly, he looked to Bellatrix. His decision was made when he noticed the cold, triumphant gleam coloring her face.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly disapparating.

The sounds of Mrs. Black's screams of "Blood traitor" mixed with her hysterical crying radiated from Number 12 Grimmauld place and sent the crows inhabiting the yard flying into an unusually cold summer morning.

Narcissa scurried over to comfort her aunt, dropping to lean over the woman that was now a collapsed heap on the floor. Suddenly, Mrs. Black's shoulders stopped shaking, and she rose silently, walking to the large wall containing the family tree. She withdrew her wand and pointed at the dark haired boy who smiled back at her. "Incendio," she whispered, her voice still shaking with betrayal. Her narrowed eyes watched for a few moments as the flame burned over her son's face, his features crackling into grey, then completely disappearing. She turned and began walking down the hall. Frantically, Narcissa whipped out her wand, clumsily extinguishing the hungry orange fire before it could spread. She clamored to follow her aunt, but stopped when she heard a muffled sound behind her. Bellatrix leaned against the wall, giggling slightly to herself.

"What are we going to do, Cissy?" the twelve year old asked, barely able to contain her joy. Bellatrix looked from her sister to the dark spot that now tarnished the seemingly perfect family tree. Slowly, the giggles rippled through her body, crescendoing until her laughs echoed through the house.