~Foreword~
Though it pains me to say it, I am not JK Rowling and I did not create the world of Harry Potter. I did, however, create this fanfiction, which is based on the world which she created and I would like to mention a few points in advance, which may raise your criticism:
1. Any spelling or grammatical mistakes are unintentional, and are more likely to be typos than known errors. Please don't waste your time pointing these out to me, because I won't be going back to edit in commas and colons.
2. I am aware that during the summer this story is set, summer 1977, that canonically, Sirius would have been seventeen-going-on-eighteen, as opposed to sixteen-going-on-seventeen, but I changed this as I wanted this story to be set the summer before seventh year. It will later become apparent why.
3. I ask you please to review this fanfiction honestly. If you really did not enjoy iy, I would like to know, but I would also like to know why.
Thank you for taking the time to read even this much of my story. I hope that you enjoy it and see it through to the end.
Chapter One: Breaking Out
The day had been coming a long time. When it finally did, in July 1976, sixteen-year-old Sirius Black was ready. His stomach rumbled furiously, and he tensed it angrily in the hope of silencing it. The slightest of stirs would be enough to wake Kreacher, who would in turn wake his mother, Walburga. Due to the inconvenient fact that Sirius was still an under-age wizard, he was forced to disassemble his bedroom the muggle way- by hand. He carefully but quickly extracted t-shirts, jeans, school books and uniform from his wardrobe and placed them into his trunk. He took a moment to consider packing his posters of Beverly Johnson and Marisa Berenson in bikinis as well as posters of Harley-Davidsons , but knew it would be too noisy a risk.
Though far from deprived, Sirius' case was almost empty. He packed his school essentials and Muggle clothing, but the majority of his clothes (elabourate dress robes provided by his family) were mercilessly left behind. He tried to close his trunk silently, but the clasps snapped shut. Cursing under his breath, Sirius grabbed his wand and swung the trunk over his shoulder.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place was silent. For a second, Sirius thought he saw a flicker of movement in the darkness, but ignored it and proceeded downstairs, grasping the bannister for security. Once he reached the landing, he was only yards from the door. With a sigh of both relief and contempt, he sauntered forwards when a voice in the shadows froze him.
"Where are you going?" His brother, Regulus, stepped forwards into the moonlight.
"Go to bed," Sirius growled, turning away.
"No." Regulus retorted. "Tell me where you're going."
"Just out for a midnight stroll."
"With your trunk?"
"It's none of your business, you git." Sirius hissed. "Just go to bed, I'll be up in a minute."
Regulus actually laughed out loud.
"Shut up!"
"I hope you weren't planning on leaving." Said Regulus darkly.
"And why, oh why, would I want to do that?" Sirius asked dryly. The question hung in the air for a moment.
Finally, Regulus spoke. "Mother warned me about this at the start of the summer. She told me that since you started hanging around with blood traitors and mudbloods you started getting ideas into your head. She told me to keep an eye on you in case you decided to act on those ideas."
"Regulus, no-"
"She told me that if I suspected anything I had to tell her at once."
"Regs, you don't understand. I haven't eaten in days, I have stepped outside in weeks, I have no way of contacting my friends- they mightn't even let me back to Hogwarts this year. Regulus, I have no-one."
Regulus flinched at that. "No-one." He said aloud, narrowing his eyes. "It's for your own good." Regulus' eyes no longer met his brother's. They were downcast and his lip trembled slightly. He slowly took a small stone out of his pocket, engraved with a thick 'B'. "It's for your own good." He repeated, and stroked the stone.
"Be brave, Regulus!" Pleaded Sirius. "For once- don't do what Mother or Father tell you, just stand up for yourself! Run away with me, The Leaky Cauldron will take us in until September, you don't have to stay. Don't be a coward all your life!"
Regulus' face tightened with strain. "I have to." He whispered.
Sirius realised his brother was not going to relent. "If you do this, I'll never forgive you." Said Sirius hollowly. "Never. Not in a month, or a year, or when we're old and grey. If you call Mother now, we won't be brothers anymore. Do you understand?"
"It's for your own good." Regulus said once more, and he pressed his thumb on the 'B'. Instantly, a strong wind swept through the house, the chandelier above them began to quiver.
Desperately, Sirius grasped the door handle, but it was locked. The brass panther began to growl and gnaw his knuckles. There was an abrupt flurry of air, and a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned, and Walburga Black stood before him.
"What-exactly-do-you-think-you-are-doing?" Each word was said with frightening calmness. Her voice did not shake, but each syllable was like a stab in the chest.
"Nothing, Mother." Sirius said carefully, not moving a muscle. He did not fear teachers, or ministry or the creatures in the Forbidden Forest- but Sirius Black always trembled in the presence of his mother. It was not her strictness or her fondness for corporal punishment, but a madness in her that Sirius could also see in his cousin, Bellatrix.
"Regulus?" She asked sharply, turning to her younger son. "You summoned me. What is the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black doing now?"
Regulus hung his head in shame, and mumbled.
"Speak up, boy!" Walburga shrieked.
"He was trying to run away." Said Regulus to the floor.
"Ah…" Sighed Walburga with a series of nods. "I see, now, I see…" She approached her younger son, and embraced him. "You are a very good son, Regulus. A son worthy of your name." She spun around. "And you- have you forgotten the name you bear? The blood that keeps you living is as pure as gold, and yet you let it go to waste as if you were nothing more than a common muggle." She shook her head, her face inches away from her son's.
Sirius tried to back away, but was met by the shut door, and the panther snapping at his neck. "You- DARE?" His mother roared, and the windows of the room all smashed, every broken shard of glass hovered in the air, pointing at him.
"Mother!" Piped up Regulus, who Sirius had forgotten was still hovering there. "Please, don't…"
"Don't what?" She hissed, still facing her older son. "I brought you into this world, you filthy blood-traitor, and I can take you back out of it. I will not let you disgrace this family any more than you already have." She flicked her wand, and several of the shards of glass shot at Sirius, cutting into his arms, legs, and sides.
"Mother, no!" Regulus cried in horror, running to shield his older brother, who shoved him aside.
"How dare you?" Walburga screamed. "Go back to your bedroom at once, or else I will forget our agreement."
Regulus gave his brother a conflicted glance. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, before nodding submissively to his mother and began to trudge up the stairs, until three words stopped him in his tracks.
"You- did- this," Sirius wheezed, his eyes filled with pure venom.
Regulus could not turn around. He ran up the stairs, tears streaming down his face.
"Now you listen to me." Walburga snarled, rounding on Sirius once more. She grabbed him by the throat and pulled him to his feet. "You are the heir to Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You will not disgrace us anymore, do you understand?"
He coughed up a small amount of blood in response, and she slapped his face angrily. "What do you have to say for yourself?" She demanded, holding her wand to his blackened face.
Sirius gasped for breath. "I wish to say…" He swallowed, and a smirk appeared on his lips. "…Get off me, you crazy bitch."
Her face was so contorted with fury that her hands dropped, and Sirius seized the opportunity. He shoved her to the floor and turned to the door. He grasped his wand and pointed it, but Walburga stopped him.
"Use that and you're expelled," her shrill voice crooned, as she reached for her own wand.
Sirius knew she was right. If he told the Ministry why he used it, his wealthy and respected parents would no doubt smooth the case over with a few thousand galleons and he would be both stuck and expelled.
In a swift movement he kicked hers aside and ran past her, up the stairs. Walburga scrambled to her feet and snatched her wand, firing jinxes after him. "Impedimenta!" She screeched. "Venta! Flipendo!"
Sirius managed to dodge the fire of spells as he clambered up the stairs, using his trunk as a shield. When he reached the top, he found his mother was already there, having apparated. Her smile was both sickening and terrifying, and he began to back towards the window.
"Filthy blood-traitor," She spat, her dark eyes mad with ferocity. "You're no son of mine. If you won't come, I'll have to make you… Imper-"
In blind panic, Sirius turned and jumped through the window. For the second time that night, thousands of shards of glass seemed to rip his body to pieces, and he could just feel himself falling freely from the high window. He was in too much pain to yell, he shut his eyes at least knowing he would die outside the walls of that house.
But death did not come. Not even pain came. Sirius opened his eyes and found he was hovering about two feet from the ground, as if on a mattress. After a moment, the spell broke and he landed on the ground. He looked around wildly for his saviour, but a shot of blue in the air reminded him why he had jumped out of the window in the first place. His trunk was still upstairs, all he had was his wand- which was useless to him now. He ran behind the house next door- Number 13. There lived a reclusive old warlock called Renswald Ranmacher who Sirius personally assumed was dead. Ranmacher had a garden shed where he grew asphodel. That was where Sirius kept his bike. A 1959 Triumph 650 T 120 Bonneville which he bought in Hogsmeade from a Lithuanian vampire and bewitched in the Shrieking Shack during mid-term (so he technically hadn't broken any laws by enchanting it) and Wormtail had conveniently left it in Islington when he was in London over Christmas.
He mounted the bike and stabbed the key into the ignition, turning it out on to the footpath. The motorbike did not respond. His entire body was covered in blood, and every movement was agony. But he had no choice. He kept turning the key to no avail, and he realised that he may have ran out of luck.
"Get out of here, lad." Said a voice behind him, and he turned and saw Renswald Ranmacher flick his wand from beneath his robes, and the bike came to life.
"You- it was you who stopped me from fall-"
"Don't make a habit of it," Ranmacher growled. "If your mother wasn't so bloody loud I wouldn't have bothered spiting her. Now get on."
Without argument, Sirius mounted the bike and revved the engine. His mother appeared on the street, running after him, curses and jinxes sailing past in the forms of vivid bolts. He sped down the road and made a sharp U-turn, heading straight towards her. She screamed wildly, waving her hands, in the midst of casting another spell when a short of light shot from Ranmacher's window and her wand flew from her grasp. She waved her fists and roared, "Don't you ever darken our doorstep again, you filthy blood traitor! You vile, wicked disgrace! You are no longer a Black, do you hear me? No more than dirty muggle scum-"
Walburga threw herself to one side, and the bike zoomed over where she had stood seconds earlier.
Though he felt like every bone in his body was broken, and his stomach felt like it was going to implode, Sirius could not resist a whoop of joy as he lifted off the ground and soared into the night. He passed Regulus' window, and out of the corner of his eye, could see his younger brother weeping with his hands pressed against the glass, shouting his brother's name.
Sirius flew past him and did not look back.