A/N:

This one shot has been written as part of a challenge set by the lovely people over at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

The task was to write about any member of the Black family.

My Disappointing Boy

"Go on then, get out of my house, you filthy blood traitor and don't you dare show your face around here again," I screamed in disgust at my good for nothing son Sirius, who at age 16 had decided to leave home, and live with that muggle loving, idiotic Gryffindor and his parents.

Good riddance, I thought to myself as he slammed the door behind him, leaving home forever with nothing but a trunk full of clothes and books.

My eldest son, who should have been my pride and joy, had been nothing short of a disappointment since the day he had started walking and talking, and he continued to get worse as he grew older.

He had such unnatural ideologies about how muggle and mudbloods were human too, and should be treated as equals. EQUALS! What on earth had he been thinking coming out with that blasphemy, and at a family dinner no less in front of my siblings and their children? Orion had blown a gasket when he said that and threatened the boy with the Cruciatus Curse if he ever dared to talk like that again, especially in front of family; my beloved Orion even gave him a taste of what was to come. It was no less than he deserved.

And then the worst thing that could possibly happen, happened, my filthy son got sorted into Gryffindor, a house renowned for its mudblood loving tendencies, dating all the way back to the founder himself. That day my son brought more shame on the family than ever before as the first Black not to be sorted into Slytherin. I had been so ashamed that I couldn't face my family for months.

When my disappointing son hit puberty he became even more openly defiant, posting pictures all over his bedroom wall of half naked, filthy muggle girls wearing the most horrific, disgusting contraptions, they might as well have just been wearing underwear. It was also around this time that he became fascinated with some bike, that he claimed was called a motorcycle, which muggles use to get around on. His unnatural fascination was obvious in the way they decorated his room. I demanded on more than one occasion that he get rid of all the abominations that cover his bedroom walls from top to bottom, only for him to tell me like the cockily that he used a permanent sticking charm on them. I half blasted his room to smithereens in a fit of rage after that, and then demanded he clean it up and he could do it like a muggle since he loved them so much.

It never helped, that all while Orion I had to deal with our wayward son, my brother Alphard indulged Sirius, and for some obscure reason listened to his insane ramblings about blood equality. And just a few short months ago, he bought Sirius a god dammed motorcycle for his 16th birthday; after that little stunt I told Alphard to never return to this house. He was just lucky he didn't get blasted off the family tree.

I heard the motorcycle outside rumble to life, and fly off into the night sky. My disappointing son had gone, and I felt absolutely nothing apart from regret, regret that I didn't get rid of that abomination before he had the chance to leave of his own accord.

I stormed upstairs and into the room where we kept our family tree and blasted my former son off there with a quick flick of my wand. I watched as the burn appeared over his picture with smug satisfaction.

My husband walked in, stood behind me, rested his hand on my shoulder and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

"We still have our precious Regulus," he whispered quietly, and I smiled at the thought of my beautiful angel, my youngest son who was everything a Black should be. He was the polar opposite of my disappointing son Sirius.

A/N:-

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