SIRIUS

Sirius Black had never been a normal pure-blood.

Growing up in the Black Family household never felt like a luxury and was always a chore. Particularly under the watch of Walbuga Black, Sirius and his younger brother Regulus were deprived of all manners of interest, and instead were taught to act like distant royalty. Each member of the family was graceful, well-read, and at first glance appeared to be a member of high society. No one complained or questioned it, for this is how most pure-blood families behaved, especially during the time when the first wizarding war was about to break. But they were intolerant and biased as well; the Blacks allowed for no discussion or argument on their blood status.

And Sirius, of course, despised it all.

He had never quite understood the glory which is supposed to come with pure-blood status, and as he grew up, he noticed his values were generally different than those of his mother's. Walburga and Orion Black were, you could say, rather pompous and irrational when it came to wizard purity. Sirius, on the other hand, did not see what the big deal was, and often had a hard time confining himself to the standard Black family rules.

By the time he was eleven, he had already experienced little spurts of magic here and there, and the biggest of which occurred in mid-July at the breakfast table.

Kreacher, the frail house-elf, was serving the family as the they sat together in silence; the only one who was permitted to talk first was the woman of the house.

Finally, Walburga spoke. "Did you hear about what the Malfoys experienced the other month?" she asked her husband, as Sirius and Regulus received their plates. "They were on their way to Diagon Alley, through that Muggle street – their floo needs repairing, you know – and there was a Muggle, near that brick wall, the one on that street..." She placed her fork down on her plate, as if she were going to take a bite, but realized she needed to finish her gossip. "Not that we would ever have a reason to go there... but it asked Abraxas his reason for being at the wall..." She trailed off as if waiting for a nasty interjection.

Sirius took a sip of water from a glass and swallowed. Before he spoke, nobody had anything to say. "A Muggle wouldn't have known," he said quietly into his drink.

His mother tightened her jaw, which caused everyone to turn and stare at him. "What was that, Sirius?" she prodded me coldly, barely even uttering the words, but he heard her without difficulty.

In reply, Sirius cleared his throat. "I said... a Muggle wouldn't've known if he was a pure-blood, or a wizard, even. I mean, they don't think we exist, yeah?"

Before he could decide that he had made a bad choice, Regulus, who sat across from him, gasped. But Sirius knew it was about to get worse from there.

"How dare you speak back to me," his mother said sharply, as though she were disappointed. "Muggles are filth, dear. Whatever gave you the vulgarity of thinking otherwise was an untrustworthy source." She didn't dare take her eyes off of her eldest, while he did the same for her. The father looked as though he wanted to either slap Sirius or hold him down, and Regulus was trembling at the thought of getting punished for such an outburst. Sirius knew his brother would have never make such a comment, and had the gift of forseeing whether or not their mother would burst.

Anger growing inside him, Sirius was about to reply, That source was my common sense, mother!, but decided against it. Instead, he replied, "Fine, I'm sorry, forget I even said anything." He paused and listened to his mother's breathing before asking, "May I be excused, then?"

"Sirius Orion Black," his mother warned, her icy voice rising. She pointed a long-nailed finger at him. "You will not speak to me that way, and I will not let you leave this conversation! You will stay here."

"Well, what if I don't want to stay here?" he shouted back, slamming his fists on the table. The hit was so hard that the glasses and silverware shook, and the plates clattered against the expensive wood. He later realized that their movement was caused by my adolescent magic, making the objects continue to spin as he spoke. "I never asked to be in this family, you know –"

"SIRIUS!" his mother finally screeched, her eyes growing wide. "I knew you'd be a disgrace of a son to this family – You're lucky you're still here, while we have to put up with you every day –"

"I'm going to my room, Mother."

"I will not have it!"

He was about to yell back. He opened his mouth, but as he watched the silverware spin manically in place, he took a fork and stabbed it into the table instead, to release the anger. The breakfast objects immediately stopped, and he stomped upstairs when until he heard his father and Regulus finally let out a breath.

When he reached his room, he slammed the door as hard as he could without breaking the hinges off. Sirius sulked in his room for hours, thinking about what it would be like to live as a half-blood, or even a Muggle-born. What made us so much different from them? Is if just the money? There were plenty of Half-bloods, Muggle-borns, and probably even some plain Muggles who could be (and were) wiser than most pure-bloods. In his mind, he hated living the pure-blood life.

But none of that mattered. He just wanted to be in a family that actually cared.

He wanted to meet someone, for once, who understood.

About two hours after breakfast had ended, Sirius heard a knock on my window. Usually, he didn't get mail, and didn't know anyone who would ever want to send him anything. But then... he realized what it must've been. His heart pounded as he got up from his bed and walked over to the window, and pushed up the pane.

Standing on the outside window sill was a large brown barn owl. As Sirius smiled lightly, he let the owl flap its way onto his arm. It cooed, thanking him for letting it in, and dropped the letter into his other open hand.

The address read To: Mr. Sirius O. Black, Second Bedroom, 12 Grimmauld, Islington. He turned it over... and there it was – the Hogwarts crest, waxed in deep red on the back of the envelope.

After the owl climbed off his arm to rest a while on his bed stand, Sirius couldn't open the letter fast enough. He ripped it open, thanking all of the Hogwarts professors already for letting him not be a failure for once, and read the words on the parchment to myself.

Dear Mr. Black,

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

He didn't need to read any more. He had been accepted into a place that promised time away from his family for a whole year. After that, he'd have to deal with his brother at school, of course, but he wasn't worried at the moment.

"I'm going to Hogwarts..."