I slowly ran my finger across the window making shapes and swirls out of the fog that had accumulated overnight. Then I watched as they disappeared, leaving only a faint outline of what had been. I returned my gaze back outside; watching the muggles walk by, completely oblivious of the house I was sitting in.

Number 12 Grimmauld Place or as I liked to call it 'Grim Old Place', housed the Black family; and after quite a few visits from muggles who had mixed up building numbers, lost keys, etc., my mother decided to put up charms and enchants. Those of which hid the place completely from anyone who was not a witch or wizard. It took quite a while for the muggles to get to used to it of course. It's rather hard to cover up the disappearance of an entire building, but we managed, and before long they accepted the fact that the building numbers went from 11 straight to 13.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting my thoughts for a moment.

"Sirius!"

"What?" I yelled.

My mother walked in looking her usual strict self. Her dark blond hair was tied in a tight bun atop her head with strands that hung down her pale, square face. Her green eyes pierced me as though she were looking at something she couldn't stand.

"What? You don't say 'what' to your mother." she shrieked.

"Huh?" I said trying not to laugh as her face contorted with anger.

"Listen, boy. I don't know what's gotten into you but as long as your under this roof, you'll respect both me and your father. Understood?"

"Yes." I said dully.

"Have you got your owl yet?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Not yet." I said.

Her face grew red and her eyes narrowed. "You better hope you do. I will not have it known that I gave birth to a squib!" she yelled, looking at me with utter dislike.

"I don't think there's a set date when they send them out, mother."

"You best hope so." And with that she turned on her heel and walked out, making sure to slam the door behind her.

I fell back onto my bed with even more things on my mind then before she came in. What if I was a Squib? What if I had absolutely no magical abilities. I'm pretty sure I'd be the first in the entire family, unless there were others that were disowned because of it. I don't recall doing any magic. I suppose there were instances when something happened, but I had never paid attention; never given it much thought.

My thought process stopped once again as my door opened; this time the visitor being my brother-Regulus, and I sat up as I was faced with what everyone called a miniature version of myself.

"What do you want, Reg?" I asked unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"Mum said you still haven't got your letter."

"Yea, so?"

"She says you'll be the first one in the whole family to not get one" he said quietly.

"What if I am. Think she'd love a reason to burn me off the tree." I said with distaste.

"Are you really a scribe?" he asked curiously.

"The fuck did you say." I retorted.

"A scribe, mum said you are probably a scribe."

"It's a squib, dumbass. Now get out if you insist on repeating every single thing she says." I said, waving my hand to shoo him away.

He turned and and left, shutting the door behind him.

As I was about to return to my bed, I heard a tapping at my window. I walked closer unable to tell what it was. Sure enough- a large barn owl was clawing at the window; letter in beak. I quickly opened the window; letting the creature in. He hooted softly and held his leg out, exposing the yellow envelope. I grabbed at it, and took a moment looking over the front.

"Took you long enough, you stupid bird. Can you not see this place either?" I mumbled.

The owl hooted angrily before spreading it's wings and taking off back outside. I shut the window behind it, and began to open my letter.

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary supplies and equipment.

Term begins September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I sighed with relief. I'll finally be leaving this place. It won't be permanent, but it's good enough. I held onto the letter as I headed downstairs, eager to put my mother's squib thoughts to rest.