Disclaimer: I own very little, and one of the things I definitely don't
own is J.K. Rowling's wonderful and perfect characters and the Harry Potter
world in general. This is just for fun. La di da di da. Whee!
Author's note: I've fixed up the story a little bit - a couple new sentences and a few other mistakes worked out, but the story line itself remains pretty much intact. It's still not quite how I pictured it, but it'll do for now, especially since I'm mostly concerned with getting the last chapter of my other story finished before Thanksgiving. (Yeah, right.) A big thanks to all my reviewers and any more comments would be very appreciated, as this is my first attempt at fanfic, and I really don't want it sucking. *giggles madly*
Sirius Black lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was wide awake, and yet getting up seemed like a bad idea. A horrible idea, in fact. This summer would be a lot better, he thought, if he were to just stay in bed for as much of it as he could. Not that Sirius had ever had a summer of any decent quality for as long as he could remember. But his summer holidays had been better recently.
After Regulus had begun at Hogwarts, his parents seemed to nearly forget about him. Regulus. Sirius sighed. The shining star of the Black family, sure to follow in his ancestor's refined and honored footsteps. Much of his parents attention was now focused on perfect little Reggie, but that suited Sirius just fine, no matter how much the idea of it -of them- filled him with disgust.
For the past 2 years he had been free to finally go to James's house, or anywhere else, not having to sneak around, not dealing with his father's mighty wrath if he was caught. He was a non-entity in his father's eyes. "Not this week" he said aloud, to no one in particular. This week, his mother was in charge.
The Ancient and Noble House of Black did things the way they had always been done.
"The way things ought to be done", his father was wont to say.
Part of this, a part which Sirius especially did not like, was the idea that the man of the house was in charge, always, no questions asked. So the task of finding appropriate punishments for Sirius's many offenses fell to his father. Mr. Black was a loud and angry man, and a large one, but he wasn't very creative. Sirius had learned over the years the best ways to avoid the older man, stealthily staying under his radar most of the time, and things had gotten much easier the past couple of summers.
But his father was gone for an entire week, off to a conference for the Ministry. What the conference was about, Sirius had no idea, nor was he inclined to ask, but it was probably some inflammatory discussion on the future of Muggle born wizards, if he had to venture a guess. That was his father's favorite topic, it seemed. The "future" of mudbloods, (or lack of it, his father would say).
Sirius ran a hand through his hair - it was about time for a haircut, he noted. He stared at the ceiling, trying to find some sort of pattern in the wood grain until his eyes swam. His main concern now was his mother, who so rarely got the chance to exercise her hatred upon him as freely as she wished. And she was waiting for him to slip up this week, waiting to pounce like a tiger the moment he did anything wrong, eager to prove just how much she hated him, how she disapproved of him. Sirius heaved himself out of bed with a sigh, and quickly dressed, not even bothering to check his reflection in the mirror.
Why should he? It disapproved of him as well - everything in this house did.
He made his way as quietly as he could down the ancient staircase that lead from his attic room to the main floors of the house, listening intently for any signs of life after each careful step. Running into his mother or his brother was inevitable, but he'd put it off as long as possible, thank you very much. When finally he arrived in the kitchen, he exhaled a breath of relief, one he didn't even realize he had been holding.
"Now," he said quietly "for breakfast. Hmmmm." Sirius rummaged around in the cabinets, until he found something suitable, and began to eat as quickly (and quietly) as he could.
"Well look who's finally up. Mother's been looking for you."
Sirius turned and looked up at his brother, who was standing in the doorway, smirking.
"Yeah?" He replied, as casually as possible. "Well here I am, so bugger off."
Regulus stared at him for a moment more with that infuriating look on his face, and then abruptly turned and left.
"That's right, go run and tell mother where I am, so my day can really begin." Sirius grumbled, and angrily stirred his cereal with his spoon, watching the little bits swirl around in the bowl. Not even remotely hungry anymore, he dropped the spoon with a light "clink", and walked out into the drawing room.
He surveyed the dimly lit space for a moment and dropped into a chair in the corner. The chair had seen better days, to be sure, but Sirius was sure it had never been anyone's favorite place to sit, even when it was new. "Nothing in this house is", he thought bitterly. "It was designed uncomfortable."
This made him immediately think of the Potter's house. If Grimmauld Place had been designed with the intention of making visitors ill at ease, then the Potter's little house had been designed with the intention of being as comfortable and welcoming as possible. He shook the thought away; it wouldn't help him get through the next couple of days, and it really was only a few more days. He'd survived three days under his mothers 'care' already, with no major incidents; surely he could get through the remaining four?
He heard his mother coming before she arrived in the drawing room, and a lucky thing, too. Sirius had enough time to grab for a nearby book, 'Great lineages in Wizard History', and pretend to read it. He knew his mother would hardly be convinced; she knew how he really felt after all, but still, appearances counted for something, and him reading (or pretending to) would look far better than him sitting around doing nothing.
She cleared her throat, and gave him a hard stare. Pretending to be surprised at her entrance, Sirius looked up and quickly put the book down.
"Good morning, Mother. I didn't hear you coming" He tried his best to look sincere, although judging from the look on his mother's face, she wasn't buying it.
"Get up a little late today, did you?" She sneered. "Well it doesn't surprise me one bit. You always have been a lazy, ungrateful child."
Sirius didn't bother to respond to this; he knew from experience that she wasn't nearly finished yet.
"Your father and I put a roof over your head, feed and clothe you, and you haven't even the decency to pretend to appreciate it! You, a member of one of the noblest of wizarding families, and you don't even bother to try and act the part."
At this point, Sirius had to use every ounce of his self-control not to roll his eyes. She could go on like this for hours, in that noxious, grating voice. And as a matter of fact, she did go on in this manner for quite some time, before she pulled a piece of parchment from her robes.
"This," she growled, "is a list of the things you are to do today. I will not have my son (the manner in which she spat out the word 'son' with such distaste nearly caused Sirius to dissolve in a fit of giggles.) behaving like a mudblood layabout. And this had all better get done, if you ever want to see scenery outside of this house again."
She thrust the fragment of parchment into his hands, and without waiting for an answer from her eldest son, spun on her heel and briskly walked from the room, the echoes of her heels clicking on the stone floor fading away. The sound of his mother leaving - could there be a sweeter sound? Sirius couldn't think of one.
He stared at the list for a moment, and sighed. Yes, it was going to be a long day.
To be continued.
Author's note: I've fixed up the story a little bit - a couple new sentences and a few other mistakes worked out, but the story line itself remains pretty much intact. It's still not quite how I pictured it, but it'll do for now, especially since I'm mostly concerned with getting the last chapter of my other story finished before Thanksgiving. (Yeah, right.) A big thanks to all my reviewers and any more comments would be very appreciated, as this is my first attempt at fanfic, and I really don't want it sucking. *giggles madly*
Sirius Black lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was wide awake, and yet getting up seemed like a bad idea. A horrible idea, in fact. This summer would be a lot better, he thought, if he were to just stay in bed for as much of it as he could. Not that Sirius had ever had a summer of any decent quality for as long as he could remember. But his summer holidays had been better recently.
After Regulus had begun at Hogwarts, his parents seemed to nearly forget about him. Regulus. Sirius sighed. The shining star of the Black family, sure to follow in his ancestor's refined and honored footsteps. Much of his parents attention was now focused on perfect little Reggie, but that suited Sirius just fine, no matter how much the idea of it -of them- filled him with disgust.
For the past 2 years he had been free to finally go to James's house, or anywhere else, not having to sneak around, not dealing with his father's mighty wrath if he was caught. He was a non-entity in his father's eyes. "Not this week" he said aloud, to no one in particular. This week, his mother was in charge.
The Ancient and Noble House of Black did things the way they had always been done.
"The way things ought to be done", his father was wont to say.
Part of this, a part which Sirius especially did not like, was the idea that the man of the house was in charge, always, no questions asked. So the task of finding appropriate punishments for Sirius's many offenses fell to his father. Mr. Black was a loud and angry man, and a large one, but he wasn't very creative. Sirius had learned over the years the best ways to avoid the older man, stealthily staying under his radar most of the time, and things had gotten much easier the past couple of summers.
But his father was gone for an entire week, off to a conference for the Ministry. What the conference was about, Sirius had no idea, nor was he inclined to ask, but it was probably some inflammatory discussion on the future of Muggle born wizards, if he had to venture a guess. That was his father's favorite topic, it seemed. The "future" of mudbloods, (or lack of it, his father would say).
Sirius ran a hand through his hair - it was about time for a haircut, he noted. He stared at the ceiling, trying to find some sort of pattern in the wood grain until his eyes swam. His main concern now was his mother, who so rarely got the chance to exercise her hatred upon him as freely as she wished. And she was waiting for him to slip up this week, waiting to pounce like a tiger the moment he did anything wrong, eager to prove just how much she hated him, how she disapproved of him. Sirius heaved himself out of bed with a sigh, and quickly dressed, not even bothering to check his reflection in the mirror.
Why should he? It disapproved of him as well - everything in this house did.
He made his way as quietly as he could down the ancient staircase that lead from his attic room to the main floors of the house, listening intently for any signs of life after each careful step. Running into his mother or his brother was inevitable, but he'd put it off as long as possible, thank you very much. When finally he arrived in the kitchen, he exhaled a breath of relief, one he didn't even realize he had been holding.
"Now," he said quietly "for breakfast. Hmmmm." Sirius rummaged around in the cabinets, until he found something suitable, and began to eat as quickly (and quietly) as he could.
"Well look who's finally up. Mother's been looking for you."
Sirius turned and looked up at his brother, who was standing in the doorway, smirking.
"Yeah?" He replied, as casually as possible. "Well here I am, so bugger off."
Regulus stared at him for a moment more with that infuriating look on his face, and then abruptly turned and left.
"That's right, go run and tell mother where I am, so my day can really begin." Sirius grumbled, and angrily stirred his cereal with his spoon, watching the little bits swirl around in the bowl. Not even remotely hungry anymore, he dropped the spoon with a light "clink", and walked out into the drawing room.
He surveyed the dimly lit space for a moment and dropped into a chair in the corner. The chair had seen better days, to be sure, but Sirius was sure it had never been anyone's favorite place to sit, even when it was new. "Nothing in this house is", he thought bitterly. "It was designed uncomfortable."
This made him immediately think of the Potter's house. If Grimmauld Place had been designed with the intention of making visitors ill at ease, then the Potter's little house had been designed with the intention of being as comfortable and welcoming as possible. He shook the thought away; it wouldn't help him get through the next couple of days, and it really was only a few more days. He'd survived three days under his mothers 'care' already, with no major incidents; surely he could get through the remaining four?
He heard his mother coming before she arrived in the drawing room, and a lucky thing, too. Sirius had enough time to grab for a nearby book, 'Great lineages in Wizard History', and pretend to read it. He knew his mother would hardly be convinced; she knew how he really felt after all, but still, appearances counted for something, and him reading (or pretending to) would look far better than him sitting around doing nothing.
She cleared her throat, and gave him a hard stare. Pretending to be surprised at her entrance, Sirius looked up and quickly put the book down.
"Good morning, Mother. I didn't hear you coming" He tried his best to look sincere, although judging from the look on his mother's face, she wasn't buying it.
"Get up a little late today, did you?" She sneered. "Well it doesn't surprise me one bit. You always have been a lazy, ungrateful child."
Sirius didn't bother to respond to this; he knew from experience that she wasn't nearly finished yet.
"Your father and I put a roof over your head, feed and clothe you, and you haven't even the decency to pretend to appreciate it! You, a member of one of the noblest of wizarding families, and you don't even bother to try and act the part."
At this point, Sirius had to use every ounce of his self-control not to roll his eyes. She could go on like this for hours, in that noxious, grating voice. And as a matter of fact, she did go on in this manner for quite some time, before she pulled a piece of parchment from her robes.
"This," she growled, "is a list of the things you are to do today. I will not have my son (the manner in which she spat out the word 'son' with such distaste nearly caused Sirius to dissolve in a fit of giggles.) behaving like a mudblood layabout. And this had all better get done, if you ever want to see scenery outside of this house again."
She thrust the fragment of parchment into his hands, and without waiting for an answer from her eldest son, spun on her heel and briskly walked from the room, the echoes of her heels clicking on the stone floor fading away. The sound of his mother leaving - could there be a sweeter sound? Sirius couldn't think of one.
He stared at the list for a moment, and sighed. Yes, it was going to be a long day.
To be continued.