The Black Family Plague
[A/N at the end]
* See if you can spot the Princess Bride reference *
* Hint: It's to do with Vizzini *
Sirius Black tossed a worn red quaffle up in the air and hummed quietly to himself. Usually, he loved summer. It was his favourite season. Summer meant endless days spent outside with his brother; summer was when the flowers were in bloom and all the other children would be out in the nearby park; summer meant that he would be out of the house and away from his parents.
But this summer was different.
Instead of spending most of his days outside, he was holed up in his room with nothing much to do but toss the quaffle he'd gotten from his new friend, James, and read his old textbooks. He had never been a big fan of reading textbooks, and the once pristine red quaffle was now frayed at the seams. Most of the time, he would lounge about on his bed and think about the mischief he'd get up to when the new school term started.
Sirius stopped throwing the quaffle and set it down on the floor as light footsteps made their way closer to his door. Back straightened and making sure his face looked bored and unfazed, Sirius stepped towards his door and let it creak open.
An abhorrent old house-elf greeted him with a sneer and placed the tray of food in his hands callously on the floor. The dark brown soup inside one of the bowls sloshed and spilt onto the carpet, and creature dabbed the stain with the edge of his rags before Sirius shut the door on his horrible hooked nose. The elf swore on the other side of the door and Sirius smirked as he gingerly picked up the tray of food.
Good, that little twat deserves it, he thought bitterly.
Truthfully, calling it food was a bit of a long shot. It looked more like mouldy somethings and the only thing that actually looked edible was a slightly green roll of bread. He dumped the tray onto his desk and picked the mould off the bread, cringing as he chewed on the stale roll.
Oddly enough, compared to what he'd had last Thursday, this bread roll was by far a gourmet dish.
His parents had banished him to his room the second they'd set foot in Grimmauld Place, and Sirius had tried to escape but to no avail. They had enchanted his windows and door, and the furthest he could leave was to the bathroom – a mere two doors down from his room – and back. When he had tried to step out onto the landing of the stairs three weeks into his imprisonment, his entire body burned and great big welts appeared on the foot that had stepped onto the landing. They hadn't disappeared until last night.
His entire summer had been spent in his room, and the worst part about it was that he had no way of communicating with his new friends. They probably thought that he didn't want to be their friend anymore, and Sirius dreaded being shut out of their compartment on September first. He could deal with his parents hating him, but his friends? It would be inconceivable.
He had always thought himself lucky for making such wonderful friends. James, Peter, and Remus made every day fun and he loved every single moment he spent with them.
James was the leader of their group. Ever the optimist and a meticulous planner. He checked in on everyone and had the uncanny ability of knowing when somebody was lying to him – unless it was Peter of course. He was the one that kept everyone else looking on the bright side of life, and without him life would be dull. He had an unwavering determination when it came to things he wanted, especially anything to do with quidditch or Lily Evans – the two great loves of his life. Apparently.
Then there was Remus. He was by far the most foul mouthed of the four of them. He had the mouth of a sailor and often got himself into awkward situations when he forgot to dial down on his cussing. He was brilliant, intelligent, and just about the kindest person that Sirius had ever met in his life. Painfully shy and afflicted with a dangerous sickness, Remus was the voice of reason and kept he and James from doing anything too stupid or dangerous.
And then Peter. Sirius wasn't entirely sure how Peter had stumbled into the group; he was neither brilliant nor particularly extraordinary in any way. Peter was just, well, normal. Remus had been so adamant about letting him join the group and James and Sirius hadn't wanted to be cruel and say no. One thing that Peter was exceptionally talented at was getting himself into precarious situations; where one of the others would need to get him out of, because he certainly couldn't do it himself. He was also a gifted liar, and Sirius hadn't yet figured out if that was a trait to be celebrated.
Together, the four of them were the mischief makers of their year and spent their free time thinking of pranks to do. His first year had been glorious and it was entirely because of his three friends. He had come to think of them as his family, and indeed they were more like family to him than his own.
He had changed and they had helped him to. Whatever he thought a family and a friend was supposed to be had been turned on its head and corrupted in the best way possible by them. Friends and family didn't punish you for wanting to do your own thing. Friends and family didn't make you feel horrible about yourself. And friends and family were there for you no matter what.
He swallowed the final chunk of bread and washed it down with some lukewarm water. Even the water tasted off.
Lying back on his bed, Sirius stared at the black ceiling above and tried to muffle out the sounds of furniture crashing, voices screaming, and glass breaking downstairs. He just wished his brother was out of the way and wasn't hurt.
His brother, Regulus, would be starting at Hogwarts in two weeks. He would most likely be sorted into Slytherin and make friends with their parents' friends; and there was nothing that Sirius could do about it.
He knew that Regulus loved him as he did him, but his brother was a stubborn thing and lived his life solely for their parents' approval. Regulus was kind and good; but his family would corrupt him and Sirius wished he could convince his brother to see the light like he had. He hoped that Regulus would have friends like his, but that was unlikely.
A sudden restlessness overcame his body and Sirius glanced distastefully around his room. Every surface was covered in Black family paraphernalia and crests. Everything from the paint to the furniture was a symbol of the family he was a part of and vivid anger and frustration bubbled in his chest.
He felt angry because he had been stuck in his room all summer without any contact from, and with, his friends. He felt hatred towards his family, Kreacher the bloody house-elf, and this house and everything it stood for. His skin crawled with violence as the Black family crest greeted him on every surface in his room and a calm fury clouded his mind.
He needed to destroy this room. And so he did.
With bloody fingernails, Sirius peeled the final strip of wallpaper and threw it onto the giant pile next to his dresser. The wallpaper, that had been embossed with the Black crest, now lay in tatters on the rug and Sirius felt intense satisfaction at the naked stone wall.
He rummaged through his messy school trunk and pulled out a pile of muggle magazines he'd nicked from his classmates and ripped out every still photo of girls he could find. Pulling out a half-full tub of permanent sticking solution from the back of his desk drawer, Sirius slathered a generous amount of the pungent smelling goo onto a poster and stuck it onto the wall. The bright photo of a muggle girl in scanty clothing was obscene in comparison to his furnishings and Sirius loved it. He had never felt so removed from his family and he glued another photo to the wall.
With each muggle photo that Sirius stuck onto the wall, he felt his Black-ness stripping away. It was liberating and Sirius relished in the lightness of his heart as he pasted on the final few clippings to the wall. The magazine cuttings barely covered a quarter of the wall but he loved it nonetheless. It was a beacon of light in a house that he hated and the dark furniture of his room had never looked brighter.
He would get through the last two weeks of his summer because this was the price of challenging the name of Black.
He would get through it by thinking of his friends – his true family – and think about what they'd do when they were back together again. He wouldn't complain or moan about any of it, because that's what his parents wanted. They wanted to break him and he wouldn't have it. What was two weeks compared to the two-months-and-a half that he'd already spent imprisoned?
Sirius laid back on his bed, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and hands crusty from the sticking solution, staring at his new wallpaper with pride. His eyelids fluttered and closed.
Next time, he thought, I'll bring more posters and clippings…
Author's Note
Word Count: 1,601
Written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments)
Assignment # 6
Subject: Transfiguration
Task: Write about someone going through a change
Extra prompt: [Setting] Grimmauld Place
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Until next time, Andy x