Disclaimer: All characters and places mentioned are the property of J.K. Rowling.
Chapter one
Painful Goodbyes
The gentle clattering of fine china was all that could be heard; the Blacks did not waste their time on idle chatter. The thought made Sirius sigh. It wasn't as if his mother and father would have anything pleasant to say. He wished it weren't so long before he could go back to Hogwarts, to his friends. He should have put his name down to stay in the castle. What kind of Christmas was this anyway? Parents he hated, brother who wouldn't let his big brother save him… Since the age of eleven he had been ostracized by the Blacks, with the exception of a few relatives. It was really getting old by sixteen.
"Cygnus tells me that his Narcissa is to be wed."
"Oh, really? To who is she engaged? I must send her an owl," said Walburga, Sirius' mother, with a polite interest.
"Lucius Malfoy," was the quiet reply from his father. Orion Black was not a loud person, but his tone was always one that held great authority.
Sirius accidentally choked on the mouthful of the tea he was drinking; his mother's head whipped around so fast he was surprised she didn't get whiplash.
"Do you have something to say, boy?" she barked at him, her black eyes shining malevolently.
"I was told Lucius was the one responsible for the torturing of my friends' parents," he said darkly, his handsome face taking on an expression of deepest loathing.
"Well with the company you keep its not surprising the Dark Lords after them!" She exclaimed ruefully.
"Oh, just shut up, you silly old bat," Sirius said, placing his tea cup on the table and rising from his chair.
"Don't you dare talk to your mother like that!" his father thundered, also rising from his chair, shocking his family with his sudden explosion, "You're just a rebellious little boy, you don't have the right to behave this way!"
"Just because your silly little mudblood friends are being culled; you think that makes you a hero. You think it makes you special. You think it makes the muggles special… You make me sick thinking about the kind of blood traitor I've created!" Mrs. Black cried, slapping her eldest son hard across the face with the back of her hand.
A red handprint was forming on his right cheek, bubbles of blood visible where the rock on her ring had made contact.
"You guys don't get how things really are do you?" Sirius asked quietly, his voice low, "You don't have friends dieing left and right, you don't have house-mates leaving every few weeks because some family member was murdered, you don't have to DEAL with members of your own fucking family treating you as if they're royal and you're the scum of the earth! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I DESERVE THAT? WHAT MAKES YOU BETTER THAN ME?" he yelled.
"WE BECAME BETTER THAN YOU THE DAY YOU SUNK DOWN TO THEIR LEVEL!" his mother rebutted.
"YOU'RE LOWER THAN ANY OF THEM WILL EVER BE!" he raged, turning with the intention of exiting the room, before a hard blow blasted the side of his head, throwing him against the door frame, rattling the pictures hanging on the sitting room wall.
"I said not to take that tone with your mother, young man." Orion yelled, the vibrations of his voice hitting Sirius with the impact of a steam roller, as another blow encountered the side of his face.
Sirius took a moment to recover from his father's attacks; it did not take long. He looked his father squarely in the eye, their shoulders matching each others' in height.
"You think that this Voldemort guy can just waltz in and take over the world with his pure-blood elitism and army of Slytherin fools? Fine. You think that. But when we fight back, and trust me, we will fight back, who's going to come out the better there? Dumbledore's army or Voldemort's gang of meatheads?" Sirius said clearly, his voice even. His mother looked about to interrupt, so he spoke louder as he continued, "You're going to send Regulus on this mighty crusade, and he's going to die."
"Hey!" said the younger Black, looking rather outraged.
"Shut up, kid. You don't understand what's happening here. You're fourteen. You're naïve. And one day, you'll think you understand, and you'll do something you think is right, or something your friends say is right, or something they-" he gestured toward their parents, "tell you is right. You'll be a hero. Merlin knows Bella will be proud. But none of you... you… you IDIOTS know what this is! It's a stupid ploy to get power! And when it all boils down, no one's going to come out the better. Just a bunch of broken homes."
"You think you 'understand' these things better than we do, do you boy?" Walburger said in a painfully low voice, moving forward so as her face was mere inches away from her son's, "I've got thirty-five years on you. Thirty-five years of honour, of principles, of PURITY! I did as I was told, the way YOUR ancestors wished it. I did things the right way. I did things the BLACK way! No son of mine is going to besmirch our family name…" Her eyes narrowed as she looked into the eyes of her son, the same eyes that were shared by all of the Blacks. "I'm ashamed of you. You don't deserve the roof we put over your head."
She spat at his feet and turned around. The room was silent for a long moment, until Sirius finally spoke.
"Fuck you."
Sirius obviously wasn't thinking clearly. Before he even registered what he'd said, He was knocked onto the floor. When he tried to get up, a spell was fired at him, sliding him back against the wall.
His head was spinning, and curse after curse was being thrown at him. His insides felt like jelly and stone at the same time, and each flash of light brought with it another painful experience. Then the last one hit, and he was put under the most excruciating torture he'd ever experienced; his bones were on fire, his head splitting. His eyes rolled back into his head and he lilled it to stop, willed the agony to end. He wanted to die, anything for it to just stop.
When his father had finally granted him a reprieve from the Cruciatus curse, both he and his mother exited the room, leaving Sirius to recover by himself, limp and weakened.
Regulus hesitated by the door, then turned back and leant down beside his brother, offering him a hand up, which he weakly accepted.
"I'm not as naïve as you think I am," Regulus whispered, dusting Sirius' shoulders off as he balanced against the wall, "and one day, I'm going to make a difference," his voice lowered even further, "One day, Sirius, you're going to be proud of me."
A/N: Hey! Not sure if this fic is good or not :\ My friend Carol liked it and i hope you do to.. Err.. Please Review so i know if it sucks or not... ) Flames are welcome.