Author's Note:- I knowwwww I write too much about the Blacks. Oh, well.
Disclaimer:- Not mine. All Jo's.
Walburga Black gives birth to her eldest in Autumn of 1959. He is a perfectly healthy boy, the Black trademarks visible in his face minutes after his birth. But he is a boy. Despite her husband's wishes Walburga Black had secretly prayed for a girl. A little girl to dress up, a little girl to turn into a little lady. If it was up to her, the Black name could disappear in the tumultuous ruins of wizarding history, as long as she had a daughter. Alas, the Black name would live on. Her son would make sure of that. (Or so she thought.)
Sirius Black is captivating from the very start. With eyes the color of liquid mercury, he is positively charmant. (As his Aunt Druella would often say.) He brings life to the previously dispirited House of Black. His mother does not understand why. (And she never would.)
He is a reckless child. He never does what is asked of him and is, quite possibly, the most insolent child she's ever laid eyes on. He is moody, he always complains and, above all, she has absolutely no idea where he gets it. ('Walburga, you blind fool', Her husband would later remark.)
Sirius is 8 years old when he starts to hate his brother. At the time, he isn't even sure exactly what that word means. Hate. He isn't sure what it means but there is a pit in his stomach and his baby brother is at fault. (He would later recognize it as something that was, in his opinion, much worse than hate. Jealousy.)
"Why can't you be more like Regulus?"
"Such a polite child."
"If only you could behave yourself every once in a while. Just look at Regulus."
And so he does. He looks at Regulus and wonders why mother likes him better. Why. Regulus, with his folded hands and calm demeanor. And he then he looks at himself. (As best as he could, at least. The poor child was a thunderstorm waiting to happen. Never quiet, never still.)
Three years later, Sirius Black is the first Black to be sorted out of Slytherin in ages. He gets a letter from home not long after. He isn't the least bit surprised.
Disgraceful child…
A Black Gryffindor…
You test this family's honor…
Honor. Sirius scoffed. He was never quite sure what that word meant either. (Until he met James Potter.)
When Sirius is starting his third year of Hogwarts, his mother starts drinking. It only takes a sip or two for Walburga Black to get going, and it's ages before she stops.
She is unhappy, he sees that. But it isn't his place. He doesn't deserve to be her punching bag. He doesn't need to hear about how horrible his father is, he knows. He doesn't need to hear what a disappointment he is, he knows. He doesn't need to watch as she falls asleep with tears leaking from the corners of her baby blues, but he does.
Walburga Black is forty nine years old when her firstborn leaves home. He is a disappointment. He is a traitor. But he is hers. She doesn't want to feel this…this pain. This regret. She had told herself she never wanted him. And she really hadn't. Still,she can not help but be angry, so very angry at this boy who made her feel. And so, she blasts his name from the wall in one ferocious flick of her wand. He is not mine anymore, she thinks. He is gone.
Sirius Black is twenty six years old when he becomes an orphan. The Azkaban caretaker slips The Daily Prophet into his cell, recognizing her name. Her obituary is small, but detailed. The newspaper is dated two weeks ago. Two weeks.
I am an orphan, Sirius thought. I am the sole heir of the noble and ancient House of Black. I have nothing to show for it. I am nothing like them. I am a disappointment. Thank Merlin.