"Sirius, tomorrow, we are going to Alonzo's."

Sirius looked up at his mother. "Alonzo's? What for?"

"Dress robes, of course," she replied curtly. "That is what they sell there."

Regulus smirked. Sirius glared at him before turning back to his mother.

"I meant, what's the occasion?"

His parents shared a smile across the table before she announced happily, "You're going to your first coming out party."

Regulus snorted into his soup, and Sirius shot him a look of utmost loathing. Regulus merely grinned up at him, his eyes betraying the fact that, inside, he was laghing his ass off. As it was, his broad smile more than told the tale.

"SIrius, this is a very important time in your life. We just want what's best for you, son," his father added.

Sirius gaped at them both. "By dressing me up in frilly robes and dancing with girls I don't even know only to marry me to some maiden from Spain?" he cried.

His mother shook her head. "No, dear, we would never do that. The Spanish are no good, you know that."

"Yes, we want a good English girl for you," his father explained.

Regulus had his napkin covering his face, and looked about ready to excuse himself. At the moment, Sirius wished he could do the same, but settled for directing his hatred at his red-in-the-face brother.

"So I might know her. That's even worse!"

His father's face turned to steel. "Sirius, this is a serious matter, and don't you dare make a fool out of us." Sirius went back to glaring at his brother, and Regulus happily consumed the fury. "This is your future we're discussing, and we're only trying to do what's best for you."

"Like hell you are!" Sirius snapped back.

His mother gaped at him and Regulus' eyes widened. His father stood.

"Young man, I will NOT tolerate such disrespect and language in my house," he roared, slamming his goblet down on the table, spilling a little wine on the white tablecloth.

Sirius stood as well, rebellion proud on his face. "Then I'm leaving," he replied cooly, tossing his own napkin to the table as he stormed out of the room.

"Sirius Asellus Black, don't you dare--"

Slam. Regulus watched warily as his father closed his eyes to keep from lashing out. There was a buzz of angry magick, and there was clinking coming from the kitchen as the china rattled in the cupboards. Regulus flinched at the sound of something crashing in the hall for a similar reason. In his hands, their father was clenching his wand tightly, and there were emerald and violet sparks spritzing out of the end and he fought to contain himself. His knuckles were white to the bone, and when Regulus looked to his mother, she was looking to her husband with concern.

Sirius' door slammed open again, and one could hear him storm down the steps, taking them two at a time.

"SIRIUS!" his father roared, and his wife followed after him, Regulus following close behind, if only so he wouldn't be trapped between his father and the china.

When they made their way into the hall, Regulus froze in fear at what he saw. His brother, face red and fuming, his hair flying wildly, had his hand on the door, the other clutching his wand as he floated a huge trunk - his Hogwarts trunk - behind him. As he watched his father and brother leer at each other, he realised Sirius must have been living out of it since they'd returned for the summer holidays a week and a half ago.

"What do you think you're doing?" his father hissed, trying to sound in control, but it was clear he was unaccustomed to such a blatant act of rebellion, even from Sirius.

"I'm leaving," was the short reply as he wrenched open the door.

"And where do you think you will go?" Regulus' face went pale as a ghost at the mad look on his father's face.

"To the Potters'," Sirius answered, almost thoughtfully, but there was a hint of mocking sarcasm to his voice.

"And HOW do you propose to get there? You can't Apparate. Not without a liscence! And no matter how good you think you are, you're nowhere near good enough to go to Scottland or wherever the hell they are without proper training, and especially not with all of your luggage!"

"I'm going to fly." Sirius seemed offended, as if this were the simplest thing.

"No broomstick can hold that trunk! I know, because I bought it myself. You can only shrink it so far, and it's likely you've crammed everything you have to your sorry self, so I'm sure you couldn't shrink it if you tried!"

Sirius snarled at the mockery. "I'm not using a broom! Do I look that stupid to you?" Regulus could hear a rumbling roar outside and, i fhe was guessing correctly, Sirius was using something a lot bigger than a broom.

"What are you using then, a hippogriff?" The derisive comment was ignored, as behind him his steed arrived, and Sirius' family gaped at the beastly thing.

It was no hippogriff. It was a monstrous hunk of metal that growled like a manticore, and yet was so distinctly Muggle, that there's no way Sirius could have acquired it without extensive amounts of help.

A satisfied smirk found its way back onto Sirius Black's face. "No, I'm using that," he replied, enjoying this moment and letting their expressions sink in.

When their father finally caught his voice once more, Sirius had already kicked off of the ground, and he cried, "You're going to reveal us all, blood traitor!"

Instead of a biting comeback, the monstrous bike vanished from sight. Regulus wondered to himself at his brother's ingenuity, and half-wished siius hadn't put on the Invisibility Charm yet, as it seemed only half as wonderful as he listened to the sound of Sirius' long awaited freedom.