Shrieks can always be heard in the Noble House of Black. Whether they be shrieks of anger, pain, fright, or laughter, shrieks have always been heard and always will be. Shrieks will be heard until each and every one of them is broken into pieces like the family from which they came.
Walburga shrieks from anger. Her voice and filthy words echo through the halls of Grimmauld. She screams at her eldest son throwing words like mudblood and blood-traitor around casually. She shouts as she casts curses in his direction. Shrill words fill the house as she burns yet another traitor from the tapestry. Tonjurs pur, she reminds herself. Sirius is just another blemish on the family name, and he had to be removed. If he was thinking straight, he'd understand, she says. One day, he'll thank her. He'll come to his senses and return home. She's waiting for that day, but until then her shrieks will echo through the world screeching things towards his memory. Her portrait stopped shrieking after the battle at the Ministry though. Because he never came to his senses and back to her. She never got a thank you, but now it's too late.
Sirius shrieks from pain. He screams to stop it, please, and leave me alone. His family laughs as he begs at the tender age of twelve for them to forgive him. He didn't mean to be a Gryffindor; he asked for Slytherin. He really did. The hat wouldn't listen. He never meant to be a lion; it must have been a mistake. He was a snake like the rest of them, he swore it. They never listened. They just scream back at him. Crucio, Crucio, Crucio. It's like fiery knives, stabbing and burning from the inside out, and he shrieks. Sometimes it sounds feral like a wild animal, but sometimes the shrieks take on form, a meaning. I don't care, he'll tell them. You aren't my family, he'll spit out. But he escapes from Grimmauld like all blood-traitors do eventually. He escapes with a burn on the tapestry and leaves behind a legacy. They couldn't escape him like he escaped them. They see reminders of him every day, but he did, too. He saw reminders of them every time he looked in the mirror, so he shrieked on the inside from the pain it caused. He couldn't take it much longer. He hated seeing them, but he hated seeing them in himself even more. Time went on, the shrieking stopped until November 1, 1981. He saw them lifeless. James's hazel eyes that were once so full of laughter and mirth were glassy and unseeing. He collapsed and shrieked from the pain it caused. Wake up, Prongs, he cried. He felt like something was suffocating him. He never moved beyond there. He never had the chance to see Lily or Harry who he assumed was there. They brought him to Azkaban and he laughed because it was all so ridiculous. Surely, surely, they could see that this was killing him. He couldn't have. He loved them far too much. He escaped though, and he shrieked from pain when he saw his reflection, out loud this time. Now he truly looked like a Black. He eventually escaped the way all mad men do eventually, through death.
Andromeda shrieks from fright. She always has. It was a shameful thing to do. She shouldn't be frightened. She was a Slytherin; she was a Black. When she was younger, Bella used to comfort her. If she woke up screaming from a nightmare, Bella would come to keep her safe. Bella would never leave her. She was so easily scared compared to the rest of them, but Cissy said it was fine. She never really listened to Cissy though; Bella was her favorite of the two if she was honest. She was more like Bella than Cissy, you see. It was only natural to prefer her. She shrieked for Sirius, internally at least, when he was sorted into Gryffindor. He was supposed to be in Slytherin with the rest of them. She shrieked when they returned home. There wasn't much she could do since the visiting Lestrange brothers dragged her out of the room and into Uncle Orion's study while she listened to Sirius scream and beg. They'll kill him, she shrieked between sobs. She shrieked when Bellatrix tried to kill her and Ted. Avada Kedavra, Crucio, Avada Kedavra, Avada Kedavra! Stop ducking, you filthy blood-traitor! Bellatrix screamed wildly as she narrowly missed her as she fled the house. She screeched crazily when she found out she had been burned off the tapestry. The tapestry was a guarantee of safety. She went from being off limits to a well-known target, but it was worth it, she reminded herself. She was in love, and she moved on. She screamed as Ted left her. What if they catch you? Let me come, too. Please! It doesn't matter if I'm pure-blood; they're still after me. Bella's after me. Let me protect you! she tried to convince him. She calmed down though eventually. Dora needed her sane for her grandchild's birth. She didn't shriek when Dora left though for battle, because Teddy needed her. Besides, her Ted was already gone. Life couldn't hate her enough to take Dora and Remus, too. Harry came by after the battle though to tell her they both died. That Bellatrix killed her daughter. But Bella, she screamed, you and me. We were the same; you were my favorite. She shrieked because she realized that everything could be taken away, and that sometimes life could hate you that much. She had never been so frightened in her life.
Bellatrix shrieked in laughter. It was a shrill sound that was sharp to the ears. She would laugh happily when she was young. Her laughter filled the air as she danced around Grimmauld with her sisters and cousins. 'Cause me and you, we're the best of the best. The world is ours, Siri, she would whisper in her laughter. Mother hated her laugh, because it wasn't ladylike. Andy had a soft laugh that was pleasant to the ears, and Cissy had a laugh like silver bells. She didn't care though, because they didn't like Siri's laugh either. His was barking. It's because you're barking mad, she would tell him with a laugh that could make others wince. When they did, it caused her to laugh even more. Her mother would always complain that she always laughed. At least I don't cry, she's retort with a smirk. They let it go, because laughing was how she dealt with things. She laughed when Sirius was blasted off of the tree. It served him right. He wasn't just a traitor to the family; he betrayed her. He was supposed to rise to the top with her and leave a mess in their wake. The first time she tried the Crucicatus, she was sixteen. Rodulphus was with her and watched as she laughed gleefully as the house elf wrenched around in pain. She couldn't bring herself to feel remorse, but she didn't care. She just wanted to laugh, because she just loved laughing. She shrieked with laughter in Azkaban as the others screamed. She didn't scream though, she wasn't that weak. She didn't have many memories that haunted her. She saw flashes of when the Dark Lord fell, when Andromeda left, and when Sirius sneered at her as he walked out of the house. She still laughed because she reminded herself, I'm going to be on top. I've already left a mess in my wake. The Dark Lord will return, Andromeda will repent and beg for mercy, and Sirius was in here with her. She laughed with joy when she saw her Lord come to save her from prison. He came to get her back, because she was loyal. He loved her. In the Ministry, she laughed her shrieking laugh singing, I killed Sirius Black, because the alternative was to cry. She wasn't remorseful about killing her young cousin, and that worried her. Shouldn't she feel something, anything? They were related by blood. Blood was of utmost importance. At least I didn't cry.
Every member of the Noble House of Black shrieked. It was fact, and they would never stop until they were as broken as the family from which they were born. But Blacks, they'd all say, don't break. We don't stop shrieking until death or after.