That was the summer of 1963, when everybody called me Puppy and it didn't occur to me to mind. That was before the American president J.F. Kennedy was shot, when the Beatles were still four lads from Liverpool, when I couldn't wait to start an academic career at Oxbridge, and when I didn't believe I'd ever escape the path my parents had laid out before me.

That was the summer we went to Lestrange's.

It was one of those old manor houses, the kind that had been put to commercial use only in recent years. The Blacks were not the first notable family to vacation here, only it just so happened that Sirius' cousins had married into the Lestrange family and as such it was only fitting that they visit at least once before their eldest son and heir had packed off for university. Ignoring the protests of his parents, Sirius rolled down the window of the car, sticking his head out just enough that he could see the place he would be spending the next couple of weeks.

Sirius' vision was obscured by his hair, long raven strands becoming increasingly tangled as they whipped at his face. But he could see it well enough. He was merely leaving one prison for another, only this one was filled with even more people like his parents, each battling to prove their worth and their wealth. It was common knowledge that this was where you came to meet your match. Sirius probably wouldn't escape the summer without his parents having hand-picked a suitable girl of noble birth for him to marry. Yet if his parents knew for a second what their son really thought of that idea, they'd probably disown him altogether. Coupled with the tacky entertainment, feeble attempts at keeping their guests satisfactorily occupied, this whole charade struck him as ridiculous.

His brother, Regulus, was sat beside him in the back seat but with all the dignity and sense of self-worth that Sirius lacked. As Sirius ducked back into the car, winding the window back up after him and an expression of dread ghosting across his features, Regulus gave a derisive scoff. "Great way to make your appearance, Pup" he sneered as Sirius attempted to groom his untidy hair as his mother had before they left for the manor in the early hours of the morning, his voice carefully laced with sarcasm.

"Fuck off, Reg," Sirius answered in retort, a mistake on his part, for his mother turned around in her seat solely to scowl at his ill-chosen words.

"Never say those foul words again, not here!" she said, her voice cold and shrill, but it was evident that she was suppressing her temper for the time being. Walburga Black loved to scold Sirius, but she would willingly pass off the opportunity to do just that if the family's reputation was at stake.

As they reached the end of the drive, there was already a crowd gathering. It seemed the Prewett's had arrived only moments before them, just in time for his mother to turn her nose up at their flaming red hair and general uncouth appearance. Anyone could stay at Lestrange manor so long as they had money, gossip and family feuds being more an inevitability of their visit.

As Orion Black brought the car to a stop, Sirius caught a glimpse of his older cousin, Bellatrix. Marriage suited her, that much was obvious. Her bone structure was naturally elegant, but sharp, only to be softened by the lustrous curls that shaped her face and trailed down the length of her back. However, her expression was anything but welcoming as she greeted the new arrivals.

Fortunately it was Bellatrix's father-in-law who appeared before them as they stepped out of the car. Egbert Lestrange possessed everything one would expect from the owner of a cluster of manor houses; he was well-groomed, hair slicked back to reveal a receding hairline whilst clad in a suit of a fine pin-striped material. His demeanour was inviting, yet it gave nothing away. He was a businessman through and through.

"Orion," he said, greeting Sirius' father like an old friend, which they were, of sorts, having worked together in the past before their own ambitions grew too strong. "Your arrival will cause quite a stir."

Sirius wasn't entirely sure where the conversation went from there. Mr Lestrange had not arrived unaccompanied. As he spoke to Orion, the attendant around Sirius' age with mousy brown hair and slightly on the chubby side had made his way to the trunk of the car.

"I've got that," Sirius said, taking his suitcase from the trunk before the boy could burden himself with yet another.

"You know this is my job, right?" the boy laughed, and he couldn't disguise the element of surprise that crossed his features as Sirius proceeded to assist him, the assistant. Apparently, few of the guests ever saw fit to carry their own bags to their rooms. Sirius must have looked confused because when he failed to answer the boy only cocked his head slightly before giving a shrug of resignation. "I'm Peter," he contined. "But most call me Wormtail. And before you ask, don't ask."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. He didn't ask. "M'name's Sirius," he replied, leaving out the part about what most people called him. Initially it was spoken with affection. Now, it was purely derogatory. Puppy. Where was the manliness in that? No where, that's what.

"You know," said Wormtail. "You might just like it here."

Sirius would have been surprised if he'd managed to contain his scepticism. What was there to like about a place filled with distant family relatives or those who were only a contract away from being relatives? Sirius' parents had an array of girls lined up for him, but none of them were his type. Not even close, he thought, a smirk creeping onto his lips and threatening to give him away. Peter looked at him curiously, but like a good employee he didn't ask questions. Instead, he merely emitted another laugh before taking the suitcase from Sirius' arms before he could stop him.

"See you around, Sirius."

Sirius watched him leave, cursing the back of him for being on the mere sidelines of all of this. Sirius didn't know Peter, but he'd already made up his mind about him. Peter didn't have family obligations pressing in around him, suffocating him with their tight grip.

"Come along, Pup." This time it was his mother who addressed him as such, not even sparing him a glance before following his father and Mr Lestrange into the manor house. But Sirius held his ground. Looking up at the vast building before him, the row upon row of windows, each intricately lined with rich ivy, Sirius made a silent vow. This was his last chance to stray from that very path he loathed so much. When he left this house, whether it was for better or worse, he'd follow a road of his own making.