Summer of 1976
"Stretch out your arms, boy, I need to take the measure. 25", good. Your son has grown a lot since last year, Mrs. Black."
Mother nods.
"They are shooting up like nothing at this age. One can hardly recognize them, when they disembark the train in summer."
The old wizard fumbles around my waist now, scribbles down the numbers. "Turn around."
I make a pirouette.
"Stop fidgeting, Sirius."
"Lift your arms, turn around, stand still. Make up your mind, mother."
"Sirius Alphard Black, behave yourself and let Mr Malkin do his job. The sooner he's done, the sooner you may leave. You want to look good in these dressrobes at the Malfoys' Summer Ball."
"I don't. I'm not going, Already told you that."
"You are going. This is not the right place or time to discuss your funny ideas."
"Oh, stop pretending, Mum. Mr Malkin knows exactly what the Malfoy Summer Ball is. Why don't you call by its real name? Cattle show! Have you already decided what ribbons you want to tie in my hair and what about a nice gold ring through my nose, so you can parade your champion breeding bull? Why fuss with dressrobes anyway? Don't they hide the parts potential parents of matching pureblood cows should be most interested in?"
"I don't allow such vulgarity in my house! Apologize! You do as you're told, enough said."
Malkin hastily collects the tools of his trade. "I'm finished Mrs Black. I contact you about the details next week." He makes for the door. Part of me wishes to do the same, another part of me refuses to give in.
"I won't go to that stupid ball. You can't make me. What are you going to do? Put me under the Imperius curse? Maybe you can bribe the Ministry for a special licence to use Unforgivables."
For a moment she looks like she's considering to do exactly that and then she simply points to the door.
"Go to your room, you're a disgrace to the family."
Occasionally even I do as I'm told. Gladly! I can't stand it anymore. All this pureblood mania, duty to the family's name. I don't want to be mated like a stud dog to a bitch with the right fur colour to produce pedigree offspring. If I'm going to marry; I want her not to care about looks or Quidditch stunts or how cool I am, when I'm merely behaving like a prat and least of all about blood status and money or the cursed name of Black.
Steps on the stairs, father coming to do the unavoidable talking-reason-into-the-stubborn-brat. It won't work this time.
"Why do you always upset your mother like that? About something so ridiculous as being fitted for dressrobes."
"Why does she always upset me? You know that it is not about the dressrobes. I'm not going to that ball to be advertised."
"Oh come on, it's just a ball. If you don't find a girl you like, nobody's going to force you. You can choose whichever witch you want. When I was at your age I loved dancing, meeting nice young witches and having a good time. Abraxas has hired one of those modern rock bands. You young folks will be having a lot of fun."
"When you were my age, you've already been engaged to be married. Which nice young witches could you meet?"
"Your mother was a beautiful woman in her time. I learned to love her and never regretted our marriage."
"Sure, you learned to love her. How long did it take, considering that it took you about ten years to produce an heir?"
"I won't listen to you talk like that."
"Why not? That's what it is all about. Breeding purebloods, isn't it? I won't, do you understand me? I won't! I don't want to marry now nor in the near future and then I want to choose a girl to my liking."
"But you can. Looking at suitable girls from respectable families won't do any harm and that's all your mother is asking for. If you find one to your liking, your mother will be very happy, if not, well, you can visit our relatives on the continent next year or make a trip to America or the Caribbean, after you finished Hogwarts."
"To meet the same silly pureblood bitches who'd do anything to see their name in gold letters on the tapestry and get a key to our Gringotts' vault? No, thanks."
While I bite my lips, father seems slightly amused. I glare at him. It's not funny, not at all.
"And the halfbloods or common Muggles you're dating only care for your charming personality? I'm sure they don't waste one single thought on their chances to better their social standing. That's what I'm talking of. You will only be happy with someone who's your equal, someone who doesn't need our money or name, but is a respectable witch in her own right. Do you really think one of these," He points at the Muggle pin-ups on the wall. "can make you happy? How do you thinks this will work? Keeping it secret that you're a wizard, until you slip and they either throw you out for being a freak or want you to do magic for them all the time? Cause that's what Muggles are like. There's nothing wrong with conjuring a bouquet of roses without thorns for your love, but once they know, they'll expect you to fetch them the moon and the stars from the sky and solve every problem they imagine to have. If you can't, they'll accuse you of not loving them enough, because you're a wizard and magic can do everything."
I've heard this nonsense so many times and hate it that, though I know for sure he's wrong, his lies have a ring of truth. I will not listen! It's wrong, wrong, wrong! It shouldn't matter, if we...
"...truly love each other."
"Grow up, son. True Love is only a fairytale, two hearts and souls and minds in complete unison to brew the most useless potion, romantic rubbish. You come of age in a few months and should forget about such children stories. Nobody's ever found the instructions in Phineas Nigellus' book. Stop dreaming, Sirius, find yourself a witch who's one of us, one who understands who you are and where you come from and when you feel like enjoying one of these, do it. You know how to take the necessary precautions and afterwards obliviate them."
"Leave me alone. You make me sick. Have you ever thought that there's a reason why you can't read the book? Doesn't the legend say only those who understand can find the way to True Love? Let me try."
"The book is yours, when I'm dead, but you can have a look, after the ball..."
What does he think I am? A dog begging for treats? For a moment I want to turn into Padfoot and jump at his throat. Just to show that I'm not a puppy he can throw a bone to do tricks for him. I'm not stupid enough to act on that wish. He may not be as bad as mum, but he is a more than capable wizard, a dark wizard. The dynamics between the two are scary. She sets the rule and enforces them. He offers the way out that takes you deeper in, the compromises, play along nicely. Slytherin cunning. Some things are just wrong, plain evil, there's no playing along with them. I glare at him without a word. I'm not giving in. He turns to leave.
"Mark my words, son. You are going."
"Or what? What are you going to do? Beat me into obedience? House arrest for the rest of the summer? We've been there, done that."
The door ajar, the outer knob already in his hand he looks right back to me. For a minute we stare at each other with equal perseverance. When he speaks, the calm, soft voice frightens me more than anything.
"You want to see your filthy blood traitor friends again in September, don't you?"
The door falls into its lock behind him. I feel like I'm suffocating. He can't do that? They can't! They can't keep me here, away from Hogwarts, from James. They're not going to do that.
They will miss me, if I don't turn up on the train. James' coming to look for me. He always does. He can't help me out this time. James can't get in here. Nobody can get into this house without it's owners' permission and nobody can leave. ….Or so they think. Father hasn't locked my door. Why should he? I can't get out, can I? I made a show of not to listen to his words at all, when he taught us the spells and incantations that guard this place. He has been adding to them ever since, but there's one flaw in his wards. Blood shouldn't matter, but sometimes it does. The magic is bound to both of them and I share their blood. The door knows I'm not him and it knows I'm not her, but my blood proves I am both and the confused door opens for me. He doesn't know, not yet. If he checks the wards, he'll find out. I cannot waste time. He was right I'm going. Not to the ball, I'm leaving this prison tonight, before he finds out that I can. Just five weeks, once I've reached Hogwarts, I'll be safe. Dumbledore won't surrender me, not when I'm almost seventeen.
There's plenty of time until I can venture down the stairs. They have to be fast asleep, including that nasty sneak Kreacher. Time to prepare and make a plan. I need my Hogwarts stuff, my broom and … sensibly a bit of gold. Not much problem with the latter, Uncle Alphard came for dinner last Sunday. Now where can I stay for the next few weeks? It should be fun to roam the countryside as Padfoot, but that leaves me with the problem where to store my school stuff. Can I dare to ask James' parents? They'll probably understand why I've had to leave and the Potters are an old and respectable family. Mother and father can't intimidate them. I'll take the Knight bus to Godric's Hollow and with a bit of luck I can even make James' place a kind of home base.
I lie on my bed and wait, dreaming of running over fields, heather and marshes. Perhaps catching a tasty hare or rabbit every other day. It will be great.
Kreacher brings my supper, grumpy as usual. He'd probably be glad to get rid of me. Regulus has always been his favourite, well-mannered, obedient, good-natured Regulus. He should have been the first-born. When I'm gone, they can make him the heir. Regulus will fulfill all their expectations.
Reggie is the only one I will miss. But then I've already missed him for years, ever since he decided to stick with them. He has made his choice, so have I.
No problems to leave the house. I signal the Knight bus, one last look at "hell sweet hell". There's a movement behind one of the windows, Regulus'. Will he alert them?
He only watches. I should have said goodbye.
"Sirius...? How did you get here? What's happened?" Mr Potter is stunned by my unexpected appearance on his doorstep at sunrise. Mrs Potter's more practical.
"Men... Can't you see the boy's cold and tired? Stop asking stupid questions. Come in, Sirius, right into the kitchen. Sit down by the fire."
She puts her arm around my shoulders and pulls me in, out of my jacket and places me on a chair.
"Get his trunk up to Jamie's room," She tells her husband and turns to me again. "Are you hungry? I can warm up tonight's shepherd's pie for you."
"No thanks, I'm not hungry. They haven't been starving me..."
"Of course not. Will you tell me what happened?"
I tell her everything, Well, not word for word.
"... and then he said that they won't let me return to Hogwarts in September. I had to leave …."
"Blimey, good you managed to escape." James! He is standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.