Author's Note: This idea just flew into my head one day. It's just a short oneshot that may develop into something later if I ever get the time, but be warned IF it does, that won't be until I have finished writing one of my other fics. XD Please tell me what you think.
The last straw.
It was he summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts. Sirius had just gotten home from James' house, or at least that was what he had told his parents. His parents generally allowed him to visit James for the sole reason that 'at least he was a pure blood'. Sirius sneered, that was all his parents ever cared about, blood supremacy. They had force fed him their garbage for as long as he could remember but he did not believe any of their crap. He had always been the rebellious child and his personal beliefs were no exception. His brother, being the spineless git he was lapped up all of heir bull and was a little death eater in the making like his cousin Bella. Sirius was ashamed to say that he was related to such people, these sentiments were shared by his parents.
When he had arrived home from Hogwarts he knew what to accept and had faced the wrath of his father for disgracing the name of the "ancient and most noble house of black" through his antics at school. It had been the same every time he was forced to return home since the Christmas since he had ended up in Gryffindor. His father's wrath was not something he wished upon anyone, like most pureblood families they tended to use the more archaic methods of punishments and preferred the physical approach, but rather than submitting to their wishes as was the purpose of his punishments, each one only made him more determined to act against authority. In fact the only time that he ever obeyed an authority figure was while at the Potters house. He respected Mr and Mrs Potter greatly and often wished he was their son, rather than a Black.
It had been nearly two weeks since that punishment and he had already completed all of his summer homework while confining himself to his room to recover and had decided to spend the day out. He knew that the potters were away and wouldn't be back until the following day so had decided to spend it with some muggle teens in the neighbourhood. Knowing what his parents' reactions would be to this information, he had lied and told them he was going to James'. He knew they wouldn't bother to check on him, they weren't particularly concerned about his safety; in fact Sirius had the distinct feeling that if he died today they wouldn't even shed a tear. It was with this thought in mind that he slowly climbed the stairs to his bedroom, happily reliving the events of the day. He had flooed over to Diagon alley, left the wizarding world through the leaky cauldron and walked to a park in the surrounding area. From there he and a few of the boys who regularly hung around he park and accepted him without question on the days he did spend with them, they had wreaked havoc on the streets of London. As the sky began to darken he had headed back home, thinking his parents would be none the wiser. He was wrong. Very wrong indeed.
'BOY COME HERE NOW' came a screeching voice from the living room. His parents had acknowledged his return home. There was no doubt in his mind that 'boy' meant him. It always meant him, his brother never did anything wrong, so they never called him 'boy' as if he weren't their own flesh and blood. Sirius mad his way carefully down his stairs, filled with increasing anticipation. He wondered what misadventure they had discovered now and steeled himself with the stony face he always wore when around his parents. As he walked into the living room and glanced at the fiery eyes of his father he knew he was definitely in trouble, as if his mothers tone when screeching for him to come down stairs had not been enough of an indication. He carefully resisted the urge to show weakness or to admit any wrongdoing as always until he knew exactly what they knew.
Regulus was looking at him, from the chair in the far corner with a slightly scared look in his eyes. 'Where have you been?' asked his father in a dangerously low voice.
'At the Potters' with James.' Sirius replied, successfully withholding the trace of fear that threatened to break through his voice. He had told them he was going to the Potters' earlier, why were they concerned about his whereabouts all of a sudden? The look that Kreacher was giving him at Regulus' feet further enhanced his feeling of unsettlement.
'You filthy, lying, muggle loving traitor! You are no son of mine!' screeched his mother. OH SHIT! They know what I did today! Shit, shit, shit, shit! Panic seized him, but he forced himself to maintain calm and placed a look of surprise on his face.
'What are you talking about mother, I am not lying' I was at James' all day.' At this his father closed the small space that was left between them and placed a firm hand on the crook of his neck and squeezed. Sirius couldn't help it, this time, he actually winced.
'We know where you were today, we had Kreacher follow you. Go up to your room and wait for me. You are in big trouble young man.' he said in that same dangerously silky voice, his eyes flashing menacingly.
Sirius did not hesitate, he quickly made his way upstairs, feeling his fathers eyes on him the entire way up. There was no escaping what was coming next, he knew all too well. The only other times he had seen his father even close to sa angry as he was now was that time that he had charmed his cousins hair to turn purple a the Christmas ball and had come up to his room to punish him only to find his newly redecorated room. His fathers switch had been brought down over his backside o many times then that it had been painful to sit for more than a month. He knew this situation was much worse and started to shake in anticipation of what was coming. As much as every punishment only further enhanced his rebellious attitude, they still hurt like hell. Nearly half an hour later, as his father preferred to let him stew for a while, he heard the unmistakable sound of his father making his way up the stairs and he willed himself to stop shaking. He was not going to show his fear.
The door swung open with a thundering crash and Orion Black stood in the doorway, wearing an incredibly angry expression. 'YOU! You ungrateful little brat. How dare you associate with those disgusting, foul, simple creatures! How dare you defile the name of the good and noble house of black by consorting with those…THINGS! CRUCIO!' Sirius was in agony, it felt like his entire body was on fire. He screamed and writhed in agony for what felt like an eternity until the spell was finally lifted. He stared up at his sire in surprise and shock. His father had never used an unforgivable on him before, no mater how angry he was. Yet here he was, energy completely drained and voice hoarse from screaming, trying to recover from the spell used to torture another person, having received it from his own father.
'I hope you have learned your lesson' said his father in a hard voice, 'you are not to leave your room for the remainder of summer.' With that, he promptly opened the door and left the room, not sparing a single glance at his eldest son as he laid on the floor, in too much pain to acknowledge his exit.
This is it, thought Sirius. I am leaving, this is the last straw. He had endured his parents punishments for the simple reason that he had no other option. But this time his father had gone too far. He was leaving.
He had not bothered to unpack his trunk when he got home from school as he had a separate supply of robes at home and he had not been well enough to use his broom so packing was not necessary. He slowly and painfully lifted himself onto his bed, blessing all of those exhausting quidditch trainings, for they had left him with a higher than normal pain tolerance and fell asleep. He remained in that position, regaining his strength for the next several hours
. When 3.00am came around the alarm charm that he had set just before he fell asleep, blared in his ear. Blessing Frank Longbottom, a seventh year Gryffindor, for having taught him the charm, and doubly thankful, for it was only audible to the casters ear. He slowly pulled himself out of bed, still wincing from the pain of his earlier punishment, and quietly made his way down stairs, levitating his trunk behind him. He reached the fireplace, the remnant embers from the night's fire glowing like little red beacons in the firelight, grabbed a pinch of floo powder and whispered the address of the only place where he knew he would be accepted. Potter Manor.