Oh no! What are you doing, you ask me. Why have you started another story when you have- oh, only a couple- three stories still in progress?

Well, the truth is, I got this plot bunny about three in the morning the other day. Don't ask me why; my mind works in very, very strange ways. So I got it, and it wouldn't leave me alone! So I wrote this- I have another couple thousand words written up so I will be updating this weekly at least for the next month or so. At first, I was going to make this just a really long one-shot, and I still might do that- just combine it all with a bunch of dividers- but for right now I'm keeping it short chapters... :) Let me know how y'all like it!

Read and Review.

-Dialux


Sirius was sixteen and defiant when he walked into his family home.

Hogwarts had gotten out for the summer only hours before, but no one came to pick him up at the Platform. Furious and alone, he'd stalked off into Muggle London with only a vague idea of what to do, the near-pitying stares of James, Remus, and half the school spurring him on with a vengeance.

It had been a bad idea- but Sirius wasn't known for thinking before he leapt. Or thinking at all, for that matter.

After being near-trampled to death under a car, thrown out of a drinking establishment- okay, fine he might have punched someone, but the guy was asking for it- and soaked to the bone with a sudden rain shower, Sirius had enough. He caught a bus and walked back into his house- not his home, never his home- glaring at the polished silver and heavy curtains with enough venom to set them on fire if he let go of his magic. The dramatic touches left little to the imagination, and the grandeur almost seemed gaudy once one got past the gleam of silver to the peeling edges and faded colors.

The door slammed against the wall, but Sirius paid no heed to it. If he walked to his doom, he'd damn well walk on his own two feet. If it was his mother at the other end of the wand, he'd smile and flaunt his defiance too.

But- nobody was there. The acidic burn of anticipation died stillborn, and the only thing he could hear was voices from down the hall. Sudden fury surprised him in its intensity; Sirius had thought he'd rid himself of caring for his mother's actions years ago.

Obviously, he'd been mistaken.

A crack echoed quietly, and he whirled around, a curse at his lips and wand raised. Large bulbous eyes sneered back at him, and he swore softly before relaxing. Minutely.

Kreacher was his mother's house-elf, but he had hated Sirius from the moment he'd been born. It had never been an even battlefield, though, and Sirius had used every advantage given to him to make the elf regret not smothering him in the cradle.

Yet it had always been his sneers and mutters that bled the deepest, and there was little that could stop Kreacher from doing so- at least not while Walburga remained his true Mistress. It had been just those sneers- same in all but size and color- that had made Sirius target Snape at the beginning, and it was only later the rivalry had developed into a hatred all its own.

"Mistress wishes young Master in the drawing room," Kreacher muttered resentfully, back in the present. His pronounced scowl at the dripping rainwater just made Sirius happy. "Kreacher will take the luggage of Master to his room."

"You do that."

Kreacher snarled soundlessly at the blithe retort, before popping away again.

Returning his wand to its holster, Sirius contemplated avoiding his mother again. With a sigh, he decided it would be one defiance too many, and he had no wish to die before he was out of school.

A warming charm and drying charm took care of his clothes, and a mild cleansing charm eliminated the pungent smell of beer. A last wave, and his appearance was as smooth as ever. When he walked into the drawing room, he had no idea what he was expecting. Aunt Druella, perhaps? She was crazier than even her eldest daughter.

No- there were no screams to be heard.

Instead, there was a delicate-filigreed tea set, and a cheerful fire in the hearth. A young woman sat with her back to the door, and all he could see was elegant hands and a low voice. Sirius shrugged mentally; his mother's schemes had rarely excited him. What did it matter who the girl was? She'd be gone in a few hours. He readied himself to walk away.

Walburga had noticed him before he could slip away, though, and she waved him into the room. Sulking slightly and with no better reason to avoid it, he walked in. Once inside, he could see that the woman was young, and beautiful. Dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, and delicate skin showed only a hint of a flush from the close fire.

She could have been a decades-younger Walburga, and it took all Sirius had to stop himself from flinching. Except for the eyes. Where Walburga had cast-iron grey, the woman had blue eyes, the color of a brilliant summer morning.

"This is Caelia, Sirius." Walburga murmured quietly, just a hint of wicked humor in her voice. "I don't suppose you've met her before?"

Sirius shook his head politely.

"She was betrothed to your cousin, Aidan." His mother snorted inelegantly, leaned back and sipped from her cup. "Such a shameful branch of the family. Vela never had any head on her shoulders, and her husband was even worse. Naming their children after his uncle- a Muggle, no less!"

Unforgivable to his mother. Worse, really, than almost anything else in her books.

Names meant everything to Magicals.

Names held power, and children were given their parent's names to carry on that power. It was why Blacks named themselves after stars, the Longbottoms after the cities, the Potters after kings. That a family was willing to break that tradition and give their children nothing was a travesty that was almost as horrible in the Dark as the Unforgivables were to the Light.

Sirius had never even heard of Aidan, not that it was a surprise- he was related to half of all the wizards in England and likely an eighth on the continent. But still- who was this girl? What had she done, to raise his mother's interest- enough for Walburga to research her past?

She continued. "Had you not been chosen from birth, why, I'd have snapped you up for Sirius immediately!" She turned suddenly. "Sirius, darling, her betrothed died only a few months ago, and she's looking for a family to take her in. She just finished her NEWTs, you see, so- it's really for the best."

Sirius seated himself on a silk-upholstered chair- the better to rid blood stains- and frowned. He must have missed something, he thought flatly. "What is, mother?" Sirius didn't take his eyes off of her.

"That Caelia is going to marry you as soon as you finish your NEWTs, Sirius."

Silence met the announcement. Then- "What?"

It seemed to be the reaction Walburga wanted. She smiled- no, smirked- coldly. "You will marry her, Sirius." When he continued to splutter, no control whatsoever, her tolerant amusement faded. "Get up, son." He didn't, and she turned away after a moment.

"My apologies, Caelia, but you'll have to excuse my son. Only sixteen, after all." A graceful shrug met her arched eyebrow. "Kreacher will show you out." A wave of her hand called him, and Caelia took her leave quietly, if tensely. Something in her eyes gleamed, undefined and raw, before she turned away.

She hadn't spoken a word to him the entire time he'd been there.

Then Walburga's wand was pressed against his face, and all Sirius wanted to do was run away screaming. Married? He didn't even know her!

What will James think? It was a hysterical thought caught somewhere between terror and fury. What will Remus and Peter and everyone else think!

"I won't marry her." Defiance shone in thunder-eyes, and Sirius glared up at his mother.

"Yes, you will." Walburga carried deadly viciousness better than he ever could, and it just wasn't fair. "You wish to leave the pureblood traditions, Sirius. And I would have said good riddance." Painted lips pursed. "But Arcturus told us in his will that you were to remain Head, if you lived. I'm not letting anyone- anyone- sully their soul for the likes of you. You will marry this girl, or you will lose your magic." She leaned in fiercely. "Do you understand?"

"What have you done?" Sirius whispered, horrified.

His mother touched his shoulder, gently. At his flinch, she cackled. "Only my right by law and custom. I signed an Unbreakable Contract. In your name."

"You can't do that!"

"You'll find I can." Walburga tilted her head gently, a mockery of a mother's concern. "I wanted to bring you back into our world. At least this girl won't have a problem with interference. She should be grateful for the new chance, and you will be brought back to the place you deserve."

In chains, no doubt. Sirius would stand tall as the Head of the House Black and his mother would control every action behind him. He was a puppet bought and sold without a choice, controlled by her strings. She'd brought and sealed the bonds before he knew they existed, and there was nothing he could do now.

Bitter fury welled up inside him.

"I hate you." Sirius stared at his mother, and for just an instant, they were two sides of a coin, one old and the other young, but both similar in all the ways that mattered.

Walburga nodded calmly; she'd won this battle.

All Sirius knew was that she would rue this day for the rest of her life.