A/N The White sheep of a Black family.
Hi everyone! I'm doing something totally different than I normally do: I'll write a pilot for a story I want to write. This way I'll write more than three parts (that's the point I always get stuck) and I'll also be capable to see the reactions of the people and be inspired by them, without feeling the pressure of having to write a whole story. I've already finished the whole pilot, which exists out of a 'long' prologue and two chapters, of which the last one is the shortest.
I'm trying a different writing style. Not because I seriously think it's a good style, but to exercise my writing skills (or to try to actually develop writing skills, your pick.) So I write in the present time (I prefer past) and I use an actual 'I- person' (I'm usually doing the he/she-style). My goal is to use the present time without annoying anyone (I'll always get annoyed when I'm reading stories in the present time). Your job (because yes, you've got a job in this 'brilliant' scheme) is to let me know whether I exceed.
I also try an original plot, but I always try to do that. This one involves Betelgeuse, the Black's sister. At present it's the day after Sirius escape, but in the prologue tells Betty about the past. So, of course, I use the past sense there. That's one of my other 'goals'. I want to use the past sense as much I can, because I see that as a way to keep the annoyance about the present time as small as possible.
So…. That's about it. I'm planning to upload a part of the pilot every Saturday at six PM, Dutch time. Stick with me, at least 'till the end of the pilot. You know you want to! You get cookies, or Trojan Horses, whatever you prefer!!
Of the real story won't be called 'the White Sheep of a Black family.' I've got another name in my head, already, but if you've got strokes of brilliance and think: 'now that is a good name,' be sure to let me know, I can be persuaded.
Story: The White Sheep of a Black family, an introduction.
Hi, I'm Betelgeuse, the one and only White Sheep of the Black-family. You might think my name a little odd. I'm named after a star in the constellation Orion. Why? Oh, my family is bonkers. And Orion was my dads name. They wanted to point out that I was just a small part of him. A possession.
I guess it was
the only logical name they could think of. We were with three kids,
at home. Sirius, the dog of Orion, was the eldest. The idea behind it
was probably that Sirius would follow him around the house and learn,
or something like that. Shame on them. Sirius, being a creature all
by himself and not a part of father, was a bit of a rebel. A long
time, the term 'White Sheep' was reserved for him.
Until he
became a cold-blooded murderer.
Regulus, the right heel of Orion, was the second eldest. My parents loved him deeply, for he did just as he was bidden. He truly was the heel of my father. A long time, everybody thought he would become a successful death eater. Shame on them. Regulus was loyal to my parents and the Dark Lord, yes. He did join the death eaters when he was barely out of school, yes. But he also was a coward. And when he found what he had to do, the kid ran.
And there was me, the youngest. And the girl. Worthless, as they said. So, I became Betelgeuse, the ninth brightest star in the sky. Sirius is the second brightest, what do you think they wanted to say with that, uh? Well, brightest star or not, Sirius is in Azkaban now. Or at least he was. He escaped. No one before him did such thing, but then again, Sirius makes a sport of being the first to do something. And that's why they call him a show-off.
When I was young I wanted to be like Regulus. Regulus was loved and thought worthy by our parents. I was not, but how I wanted to be... Reggie was nice to me. He didn't protest when I wanted to hang out with him and his friends. He cuddled me, protected me. For I was his little sister. I was Sirius little sister as well, but I guess there was a too big age gap between us. He protected me, alright, but Sirius protection tends to get you hurt.
We weren't a happy family, all loving and caring. We were three kids frightened of their parents, a father just as much frightened of his kids and an angry mother. We kids were all stars that somehow belonged to one constellation, but we never were one piece. We were all dreaming of great futures and somehow on the way our parents had only one (dead) son left. That was Regulus. Regulus got himself killed when he stood up against what we once all believed in. Or so they say.
Sirius and I are alive, but not in any way more part of the family than the neigbours pet dog. Sirius got himself disowned at the fragile age of sixteen. I was twelve and that was when my eldest brother became my idol. I was young and looking for the point where I stopped and my parents began. I was forming an identity and realized that doing everything my parents told me wouldn't help me in any way. I wanted to follow in his footsteps.
So I did. That's the thing with Blacks. No matter how long they think things over, never do they see the consequences of their actions. I couldn't foresee, on that moment, that Reggie would feel betrayed and alone. It was only logical, of course, but I was young and didn't look that far ahead. I left home at the age of fifteen, not knowing that I wouldn't see Regulus again, until something bad happened to him. To us.
How old Reggie was when he joined the death eaters, I'll never know. I know that he already was one when he was eighteen. That was when we met each other again. Well, we had met in the meanwhile, but that was in school and most of the time he would just ignore me. That, or he would attack me. 'Wands drawn in the hallway, preparing to fight', would the detention rapports say. Oh the joy of those days.
I was away from my family for over a year, when Reggie suddenly was there. It is necessary to state, I believe, that I was at the place I called home then. A ridiculous small apartment, I managed to pay with the money I'd stolen from my family before leaving and the upbringings of my job as laundry-girl. Also, it might be necessary for you to know that I hadn't had a decent conversation with Reggie all over that year and that I still do not know how he found me.
His appearance was shocking in more ways than one. He was really sick, I noticed, when I recovered from the shock of being dragged into my own home by the brother who wouldn't talk to me for over a year. I asked him what had happened. He declared he was dead. It sure looked like he was going to be soon. Luckily, I was able to save his life.
The next morning he stood up, once again declaring he was dead. That was a strange statement, even for a Black, cause he was very much alive. So, since I'm a want-to-know-it-all (yes, they are different from know-it-alls…. Want-to-know-it-alls tend not to know it) I asked what he meant. "I'm dead!" He declared once more.
We weren't getting any further with that statement, so I decided to try something else. "Do you care to explain?" Apparently he did, because the next hour I heard a story, so unbelievable, that I did indeed not believe him. I should have. I should have known. I should have understood, for this story was an example of Black-logic, something I'm exceptional good at, most of the time. And it was true.
To cut it short, this is what Reggie told me: As a Death Eater Regulus lived in fear. So, he decided to get out of… the circuit. When he found out that the Dark Lord made himself Horcruxes (that was when I stopped believing him… do understand: I believed that the Dark Lord made Horcruxes, he was just that type of guy, but not that Regulus would be capable of finding out something like that. According to the me the boy was pretty stupid. I could not have been more mistaken) he decided to destroy one.
To get that cursed piece of soul, he had to drink a potion that showed him his worst nightmares and poisoned him in the mean time. It was not deadly enough to kill him right on the spot, Reggie believes this was because Lord Voldemort would want to torture his foe first. I think he probably is right. Anyway, so he sent Kreacher (our house-elf, a sweet old dear, until he found out that I was sorted in Huflepuff) to our home with the horcrux and the order to destroy it. Then he decided to come to me for help.
This, of course, doesn't explain why he was dead. Reggie had managed to make a fake dead body of himself, and had placed it in front of the Ministery of Magic, the Dark Mark hanging over it. According to the newspaper that morning, he was dead. According to the Ministry too. According to the whole wizarding world, but us two, Regulus had passed away. There were remarkable few people who cared. That depressed my brother a bit, actually, I had to make sure no innocent bottle of Alcohol crossed his way, cause if it did, the bottle would cease to exist.
So there I was, I had turned sixteen two months ago, and suddenly I had to care for a brother who was going through a difficult time. It was hard to stay patient with him, 'cause now I was going through a difficult time, too. I had to work for two, do the household, do all the psychological care I could and not fall behind on my studies. On top of that I had to worry about Regulus and how everything would go when I was back to Hogwarts. So, I cried, late at night, and snapped at everything and everyone that passed by.
That were the good days. The silence before the storm, so to speak. Everything would become worse, way worse once Halloween came. Things had become relatively better when I went back to Hogwarts and could escape the clutches of Regulus, at least most of the time. I still had to go home everyday, to bring Reggie food, but at least I couldn't stay too long, because someone would notice something was off when I did. Or so I claimed. Truth to be told, I was sick of Reggies whining and I had the feeling that I would shoot him, the next time he started it again.
Halloween Eve something happened, so horrible, yet so delightful. Sirius had a godson, you know? Harry, the son of two of his best friends. Sirius and James seemed to have that click when they were
around each other. They helped each other to be the best –that's what Sirius called it, I'm going for worst- they could be. They had so much more than friendship… They completed each other. They were a part of each other's soul. And Lily, Lily was the most wonderful girl you can imagine. The only girl who could make those two behave themselves. I met them on few occasions, like Sirius birthday. (I used to sneak out our parents house to celebrate with him and always got caught. Am not that sneaky…)
That night, they died, but the killing curse that was directed at their son did something horrible, yet wonderful. It rebounded and finished of the Dark Lord. That was horrible, because it left the young orphaned boy with a scar on his head and a piece of Voldemort in his soul. Well, not actually a piece, Harry didn't become a horcrux or something, but there is some weird connection between He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Harry. Sirius godson was damaged. But it was delightful, too. There was one Dark Lord less on this world and everybody was really happy.
I was at Hogwarts when we heard the news. Everyone was ever so excited, but I knew that Sirius was heart broken. We were allowed out of school to celebrate with family that same night. Instead of going home, I went to Sirius' place. He was not there.
I fire-called all his friends. No one had seen him, lately. Peter Pettigrew wasn't home and probably not celebrating –he was a good friend of the Potters, too- and that comforted me. Wherever my brother was, he was probably with Peter, who would keep him safe.
Regulus was really happy, almost manically so. He didn't feel compassion for Sirius ("I hate him, he didn't come to my funeral either, did he? Another Whiskey?") or the Potters ("'M Sorry they're dead. But they hung out with Sirius, they've got to be scum!"), but was overly happy with the dead of his former master. ("And to think I helped. I helped, I actually helped! He wouldn't have died if I hadn't destroyed his Horcrux, would he?" "No, Reg, he wouldn't have. Now, put down the Whiskey. Reg… Reg.." "I helped!")
Regulus only stopped yelling "I helped!", when I started crying. I cried for James and Lily Potter, because even though I didn't know them that well, I had admired them greatly. I cried for Harry, who was now an orphan. I knew Harry and he had stolen my heart with his cute smile and strong will. Harry never cried, never threw childish tempers and, to cut it short, was more mature than his father and godfather would ever be. But most of all, I cried for Sirius, who had lost all he held dear in one damned night.
Next morning, everything became worse. I had to cry for Sirius again and this time Regulus joined me, surprisingly. We had never thought this could happen. We couldn't believe it. If times managed to turn Sirius bad, there was no hope left for us.
In the late night after Halloween, or in the early morning next day, Sirius Black killed thirteen people. Twelve of them were muggles. One was Sirius friend, Peter Pettigrew.