Little Sirius clamped his hands over his mouth, unclamped them, clamped them, as he peered up at his mother. She'd been frozen for so long. "Mommy, are you dead?" His voice squeaked. Curiosity flared in the pit of his stomach as joy.

"Not now Sirius." She reprimanded, barely cracking her lips.

Sirius shoved the thick black hair out of his face and felt a smile dazzle in his eyes, brighten up his cheeks. "Mommy!" He screamed happily, launching at her in the most un-Black-like way that Walburga broke position. He clutched at her like a life-line, hugging her already tightly knit middle and burrowing his face in her bosom. The somewhat muffled squeak of a voice said, "I thought I'd lost you for a moment there."

The woman pried Sirius from her, trying not to smile. She seemed to be grimacing. "Not while we have a guest." Walburga said, indicating the man standing before a canvas. He was tapping his foot hurriedly at the duet. Walburga deposited Sirius on the ornate chair next to her, and motioned for him to continue.

Once again the woman froze in a picture of perfection. She breathed in and out through her pointed nose, her cherry-red lips pressed together in a flat undying line. Her black hair curled in waves against her skin, like a mix of peaches and albino nectarines. They met like sea and sky. Sirius poked the skin on her arm revealed by the low cut of the dark green dress that flowered around her. He hoped it would ripple just like water too.

"Mommy?" The boy asked, looking into her eyes. The colorful brown circles seemed to stare straight into nothingness. "Why are you ignoring me? What did I do?"

His mother made no movement.

Fear in the form of ice replaced his billowing curiosity. He felt his breath start to pick up. Before he knew it his eyes had filled with tears. "M-mommy?"

Nothing.

The tears leaked free of the sides of his eyes, and all the sudden his face was a wonderland of broken faucets. His nose ran, his face wet, and he began ripping at the stupid hat and bow his mother had shoved him into. She'd left him, she was gone, and he didn't want to wear the stupid itchy clothes.

"Sirius, Sirius." She sighed, standing up so she could kneel in front of him. He seemed not to able to see her through his blurred eyes, so she steadied his face and wiped the tears away.

"I'm not dead Sirius." She whispered. "And I wouldn't leave you. I love you."

At that moment, Walburga assumed that all the Black ancestors were turning in their graves. The two things Black's were never to do, and the night wasn't even up- cry and reassure.

She picked up her beautiful baby boy and walked over to the man and his canvas. With the child resting on her hip, hands around her neck, she asked, "What've you at least got?"

The Wizard turned the painting around. Walburga was about to protest when he said, "The little boy was moving around, looking at you too much. I couldn't get him still enough to apply."

Sirius looked into the deep dead eyes of the picture-mother and wondered when she would start moving too. He sniffled.

Walburga glanced at her son and at the now self-portrait of herself and decided it would work well enough, no matter how bad she wanted it to be the two of them- even if he was just staring devotedly into her face.

Sirius looked back at his living mother, how pretty she was, in real definition. How much he loved her and how he never wanted to be apart. Of course, being so young he hadn't known any of these feeling for what they were, or hadn't known what they meant, or how they felt. So he consented of the gushing love in his heart. Just love.

Just, "I love you Mommy."

A/N: Written for Soul Of The Dark Mark 's I Love You Mommy Challenge.

I'm not exactly sure how Wizard portraits are done, maybe the person has to be dead first, I dunno, I'm not JKR. (LOL at my disclaimer).

I am horribly terrible at writing fluff, so please please please criticize and help me get better. I would be forever grateful to you if you could.