This is for Round 1 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction competition. Beater 1 had to write a story from the perspective of a son or daughter. I also used the prompts "Don't tell me what to do!" and 'below'.
Sirius Black threw down his Quidditch magazine next to him on his bed, groaning - and for once it wasn't because of the extortionate prices of Quidditch gear or match tickets. Even in his room he could hear his mother in the kitchen, cursing at something. He could not exactly hear what she was cursing at, which made the whole ordeal even more annoying. "Try being nice to her. Maybe she'll be nicer too." Remus's words floated into his mind, making another frustrated groan escape his lips. "Damn it, Remus." He muttered, although he knew the werewolf probably had a point. Treat others how you wish to be treated, and all that. He rolled out of bed, almost falling onto the floor in his reluctance to actually get up.
He ran a hand through his now disheveled hair, in a lame attempt to fix it. He hesitated, looking wistfully back at his magazine. Silence appeared to have fallen back into its usual place over the house - maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to go down and be nice anymore. "Please, please, please." He hopefully chanted under his breath, repeating the words over and over like a prayer. Suddenly, a fresh wave of curses and expletives could be heard coming from the kitchen. Sirius sighed, resigned to his fate. He was going to have to go down there whether he liked it or not.
As smart as Remus was, sometimes his ideas really sucked.
As Sirius quietly made his way down the stairs, he was treated to his usual dose of abuse from his mother's portrait. "Gryffindor scum! How dare you call yourself a Black! You're a mess - a joke!" Sirius hated permanent sticking charms and he hated that damn portrait! Wasn't the real life article enough? Why did there have to be two incarnations of Walburga Black, constantly telling him how inadequate they thought he was? He pushed away the urge to tell the portrait to shut up. He knew exactly how that would end. Sirius suppressed a shiver, although the house was strangely warm for once.
He stopped at the bottom step, hesitating again. His mother seemed to be very angry, maybe he should just go get Regulus and he could help her instead - he always was her favourite. Not that Sirius actually cared, since he had always planned on rebelling against the family name and getting himself as far away from them as fast as he could. The only thing that had made him pause before was Regulus, but now even his brother hated him so there really wasn't anything to make his stay. Even the trace was off him now, he just had to wait for the right time to leave. Once he'd finished his final year at Hogwarts, he'd be off. That hadn't stopped him from packing a bag though - just in case. He looked down at his feet - as soon as he walked off of the step, he had to be fully committed to being nice to his mother for once. Maybe Remus was right and it really would make his time here a little less hellish while it lasted. "You better be right about this Mooney." He murmured before taking a leap of faith and stepping off the final stair and onto the squeaking floorboards. He cringed slightly at the loud whine the floor gave as he settled his weight onto it. His mother still seemed oblivious to his presence, since she was too busy yelling curses at something - or someone, Sirius realised with horror, unable to repress the next shiver that shook his lightly muscled frame. Whoever could make her this angry...he both took his hat off to them and made him fear for them at the same time.
Maybe he should just go back upstairs...no one would know he'd come down in the first place. His mother was totally oblivious, Regulus was holed up in his room as per usual and his father was out of the country on business as always. It wasn't as if anyone could prove he'd been there - screw Remus's 'be nice to her' plan.
'Some Gryffindor you are' He though bitterly. The portrait appeared to be - annoyingly - right. He was supposed to be brave and courageous, but he couldn't even walk into the same room as his angry mother. 'Remus wouldn't be scared, James wouldn't be scared. Peter would be terrified, but he'd still do it. You shouldn't be scared either - just go on.' He took a deep breath and started walking towards the kitchen, encouraged by the thought of his friends. Each floorboard creaked louder than the last as he stepped forward. He suddenly wished he had his wand with him, but he had left it upstairs and he wasn't going to go back now to go and get it.
"Mum?" He asked warily as he uncertainly stood at the kitchen doorway. "What is it?"
The old woman seemed to just ignore him, continuing to curse and mutter, although now Sirius could get a clear understanding of what she was going on about. "Stupid elf!" Not Kreacher then - she loved Kreacher like he was family, he could do no wrong in her eyes. "Clean the clothes, that's all I asked! And cook some dinner too! Clearly, only Kreacher is capable of working properly!" Sirius listened, but he couldn't hear an elf whimpering, so she must just be yelling at the house elf's leftover work, which to him seemed a little pointless. "It's going to take hours to get out these stains now!" Sirius suddenly got a clear image of what must've happened. His mother had clearly asked a house elf to cook and clean at the same time. He knew that elves could do this easily, so something must've happened - maybe his mother came in and startled the house elf or maybe Kreacher sabotaged the poor thing's work (it wouldn't be the first time. Merlin, he hated that elf) angering his mother. He didn't know what had happened to the elf, but now his mother was just yelling for the sake of yelling.
Time to put this, 'Be nice' plan into action. He walked a little further into the kitchen. He'd had to clean stains off of loads of his shirts at Hogwarts - being an animagus and hanging out with your werewolf best friend every full moon really did have it's perks - and he knew how to get it clean quickly, with no fuss. The spell he'd found was a lot better than the general stain removing spell which took hours to take effect. "Mum, I know a really easy spell that can help." He started, "You just have to -"
"Don't tell me what to do!" His mother abruptly turned on him. "Gryffindor scum! Do you think you can order me around in my own house?!"
Sirius slightly jumped, surprised as she suddenly whirled on him. "I was only trying to help!" He shot back, frowning. This was the first time he could remember Remus being really wrong about something.
"Help?! Ever since you were born you've done nothing to help me!" His mother shouted. "It would help me, if you left! Leave and stop disgracing this family with your Gryffindor ways!"
Sirius stood, frozen in shock and staring at his mother. Now there really was nothing stopping him from leaving - never mind waiting for the end of his seventh year at Hogwarts. The shock slowly started to wash away and Sirius blinked as he waited for it to vanish. "Fine." He said quietly, as soon as he could remember how to speak. Without another word he turned and left the kitchen, running up the stairs two at a time. He pulled out the ready packed bag he'd kept below his bed and put the rest of his things into it - including the Quidditch magazine he'd been reading only fifteen minutes ago.
Silently thanking whoever invented extension charms, he closed the bag and slung it over his shoulders. Only pausing to pick up his wand he stormed out of his room, telling his mother's portrait to shut up as he passed it - what did he have to lose now? The painted version of his mother seemed taken aback, but the knowing and taunting smirk never left her face. She knew exactly what was happening.
Sirius ignored her, quickly running down the rest of the stairs. This time he didn't hesitate before hopping off the last step - he wasn't struggling with the decision to leave. In fact, it was scarily easy. Within moments he was out of the door and slamming it behind him, without saying goodbye or regretting how good he felt now that he knew he wouldn't have to live in Grimmlaud Place anymore.
He walked until he had calmed down and the streets were deserted. Then he stuck out his wand, waiting impatiently. Finally, the Knight Bus appeared and he got on, paying his fee and murmuring the address. He moved to the very back of the bus, staring out of the window as the streets of London whizzed past him at speeds that were way passed the muggle limits. He felt a familiar relief wash over him as he recognised his surroundings.
He was close to the Potter's.
Sirius was almost home, if he was lucky.