I'm glad I'm not one of those many people who writes very big. Thankfully, here in Azkaban, the dark and cramped walls are rather large, which gives me space to think and write about my earlier life before my soul gets sucked away. Here I stand, with a rock in my right hand, writing on these dirty and dusty walls.
I suppose you already know my name, but in case you didn't, I am Sirius Black. Son of Orion and Walburga Black, older brother of Regulus Arcturus Black. I know this might sound weird, but I guess this story starts with him, my brother. I won't start your journey with the day he was born, but I'll settle for around when I was about eleven years old...
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"LET ME GO!" ten-year-old Regulus screamed. "Put me down now, Sirius!"
"I never said I had anything to do with it." I muttered. I watched as my little brother wriggled and kicked and screamed from eleven feet above my head. As you may know, wizards often possess magic before they are accepted at Hogwarts, but most can't control it. Although, sometimes the magic is controllable, and can be used at will.
"Let me down, or I'll call mother." demanded Regulus, his grey eyes staring down at me from the ceiling. My brother and I have always looked very much alike, but with extremely different personalities.
"But you have no proof," I replied. "You have no proof at all that I was the one who put you up there."
Regulus's face grew red with anger. "MOTHER!" he yelled. "Mother, Sirius is hanging me from the ceiling again!"
"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" I heard my dear old mother screech from downstairs. "LET YOUR POOR BROTHER GO!"
I rolled my eyes. Mother had always had a special place in her heart for Regulus, and I couldn't help but feel that that place was meant for me, and he somehow pushed me out. But I didn't let it bother me too much. I was different from the lot of them, all the Blacks in our family. Most of them cared about You-Know-Who, and Pureblood, but I wasn't too cautious about people's blood types or their beliefs. My little brother adored anything my parents were in to, so naturally he got the praises while I received the scolds.
"Fine Mother," I said, as Regulus slowly came down to join me on the floor.
He got up, began to walk towards the staircase, and as he passed, Regulus purposely knocked into my shoulder. I watched as he skipped down the stairs, his hair flopping as he skipped every other step. He disappeared when he turned around the corner and went into the dining room.
After a few minutes of standing, waiting for something to happen, I heard my mother call for me. "SIRIUS! COME DOWN! You are late for breakfast!"
I rolled my eyes once again. As I'm sure you can tell, most of the time there was lots of yelling in my house. I walked a few steps down, hoped on the banister, and swiftly slid down, missing the stairs completely, my long black hair flying behind me as I went. At the bottom of the stairs, I jumped off and skidded to a halt on the floor.
Walking into the dinning room, I saw that my family was already seated at the table, and an empty seat was placed next to my brother. I sat down, and noticed that our meal hadn't been served yet.
"You are late, Sirius." glared my mother.
I rolled my eyes as I sat down. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry, mother. But Kreacher hasn't served us breakfast yet."
"What does that matter?" she asked. "What matters is that you were late."
"I'm sorry," I repeated, looking down at my sad empty plate.
"And besides," said my father. "Kreacher should be here soon with our food."
I sat down hard in my chair, crossing my arms. I was hungry. I almost always was. Especially now, that I only get fed once a day. But this was the way things were, and I never got what I wanted immediately, unlike my brother.
Our large dining table was usually very quiet before, during, and after our meals. Nobody talked. The only sound was the chewing members of the family, and the occasional scratching noise made by the forks and ceramic plates. When Kreacher came, he served the food he'd prepared for us, grunted, and walked away. There was little noise there as well. But that morning we heard a different sound.
An owl had crashed into our clean window, and was trying to get back up to fly through another open part of our house. I got up from my chair and rushed excitedly to open the window and let the owl in. No one noticed that I took the letter from it's leg and brought the letter to our table. As I walked, the owl flew away.
"What's that in your hand, son?" asked father.
I opened the letter, and quickly read it, although I already knew what it was. Mother was staring at me closely. "Honestly Orion, I'm sure we all know what it is," she said. "Obviously, Sirius has been accepted to Hogwarts, just like every other Black in our family. And also like the rest of us, he's naturally going to be a proud Slytherin."
"I'm not sure about that, mother," Regulus spoke up. "He's not as loyal to the Dark Lord as we are."
"He doesn't believe in killing off the filthy Muggles." added my father.
"And of course, he doesn't obey his parents..." my mother said coldly.
My family was now glaring at me, burning through my soul. I indignantly opened my mouth, looking for something to argue about, but they were right. I didn't do any of those things. So I closed my mouth, rolled my eyes, and suddenly became interested in my empty plate.
Still staring, my mother began to speak again. "Tomorrow we will go to Diagon Alley and pick up your supplies."
And with that, everyone got up and left the table. I was alone once again.