Thanks for the reviews! For those of you who read Always, I know I said I would update Ch 53 before updating this, but I stupidly deleted the draft when I was trying to clean out my documents. I'll rewrite it sometime this week, but I thought I might as well update this since it's ready. Sorry for the ridiculously long A/N, but whenever people have questions/concerns/comments, I tend to ramble.

JPLE- Thanks for the review! I plan to explore the origins of Sirius's feelings of alienation as the story continues. To me, that's one of his most intriguing qualities so one of my goals in writing this story is to explain that. I think this chapter goes into a little more detail about it, but it won't be something that I'll fully explain in one chapter, even if I thought I could. I hinted at it very slightly in the first chapter with Regulus being the dutiful son, but when he returns home from Hogwarts after his first year is when I'll really go into the subject. Right now, he's more of a Black than he thinks, and that will become obvious when he first meets James in Chapter Five (Or Six, depending if I keep a chapter or not.) A lot of this story is going to revolve around his struggle what he was taught to believe and what he discovers for himself. He won't be the Sirius Black we know for a while.

MermaidGirl34- Thanks for the review! And you're right about the foreshadowing. I like slipping in foreshadowing and allusions related to Harry's years since we all know them.

Crowfeather's Love- Thanks for the review! I know that I'll write about Sirius running away, but I'm not sure when I'll stop. I know I want to write about James's death and going to Azkaban because I think I consider that his lowest point (I'm not 100% because I haven't really thought about it yet.) I also really want to do the POA scene when he sees Lupin and Snape for the first time since Azkaban, so I might go all the way to his death. I might make a James fic when I'm further along with this story. I would love to write about him because he's just so different from everyone else I've written. But even if I don't write a James fanfic for a while, I know that I'll be addressing the background differences between him and Sirius in this story.

the reader- Thanks for the review! That's exactly what my friend made me see. Somehow, I never really thought about how tragic his life was, but really, he had a horrible life. After being raised by Walburga Black, he finally goes to Hogwarts, has a few happy years, and befriends the people that he'll assume will be his best friends for life. Then his brother joins the Death Eaters and dies, his best friend gets murdered because their other best friend betrays them, and he gets sent to Azkaban because of it. Then he has to be on the run for the rest of his life, or at least until his cousin kills him a few years later. I agree that Sirius is the more sympathetic character, but I still think Snape is the more tragic figure. He had one person that he loved, lost the one because of something he did, and had to live with his guilt. But then again, I'm sort of biased since I've been obsessed with writing Always for so long.

Moonhead- Thanks for the review! I understand what you mean about Sirius. It's hard to like someone when he makes your favorite character miserable. I don't think it makes sense for Sirius to hate Severus that much for no reason at all, so I wanted to give him a reason, which will become pretty obvious in their fourth year. I'm not sure if you're talking about the note in Always when I said that he and James came from different backgrounds, but to me, Sirius is capable of such strong hatred just because that's what he was raised to do. I know it doesn't excuse his actions, but I can see him struggling with that during school, especially when his best friend is James, who grew up with a loving family and whose biggest problem is most likely figuring out how to get Lily Evans to like him. About his character growth- this is sort of a similar answer to what I told JPLE so I won't repeat everything, but don't worry, you'll definitely see Sirius grow into a different person. The first chapter was somewhat of an introduction so I felt the need to mention it, but he'll struggle with that throughout the story. Like I said above, he won't be the Sirius Black we know for a while.

Chapter Two- Filth

1969

"And then they killed him. After days of-"

"Why?" Regulus interrupted, his brown eyes as wide as saucers.

"Because he was a Mudblood," said Sirius impatiently, dropping the sinister voice he had been using. He was annoyed that Regulus was ruining what he was finding to be a perfectly good horror story. In his opinion, it was one of his best. "That's why you can still hear his screams at night."

"I thought Dad said that was the wind," Regulus said uncertainly, but paling all the same. He inched away from the window, hugging his knobbly knees to his chest. On an ordinary day, the high arched glass revealed an attractive view of the garden. That night, it showed only the jagged branches of ominously swaying trees and the shadows that danced in between.

"Of course he would say that," Sirius waved his hand with a dismissive air, purposely avoided looking at the window. His story was slightly more effective than he had anticipated it to be. "Do you really he would tell you that there was a dead Mudblood next door?"

"Master Sirius!" An annoyingly familiar voice croaked, causing Sirius and Regulus to jump in alarm. "You are not to be telling Master Regulus stories again."

Once his heartbeat returned to normal speed, Sirius stared at the house-elf in disgust. Kreacher seemed to have some sort of vendetta against him, ever since he had caught Sirius trying to get rid of the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. After that little incident, Sirius was convinced that the portrait and house-elf were plotting against him. "And you shouldn't be giving me orders."

"It's all right, Kreacher," Regulus said, looking at Sirius nervously.

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but before he could announce that it was not all right, a tall shadow cast over the three of them, silent and formidable. Sirius didn't have to turn around to know who it was; Kreacher had bowed so deeply, that his snout-like nose was brushing against the floor. Automatically, Sirius's lips pressed tightly together, not quite daring to meet Walburga's hawk-eyed stare.

"Kreacher is only following your command, Mistress," Kreacher rasped, still bowed. "Kreacher only lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Kreacher tells Master Sirius not to tell Master Regulus stories, but Master Sirius will not obey. He never obeys his mother's dearest wishes."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Walburga said smoothly. Her manner was perfectly controlled, but her eyes, pale as ice, were something else entirely. They held a dangerous gleam, warning anyone who dared peer into those glittering shards that she could snap at any moment. "Is that true, Sirius?"

Sirius, who had caught a brief glimpse of her cold eyes, quickly averted his gaze. His tongue tasted bitter. Of course it was true. Everything he did was somehow wrong. He was not Regulus. "Yes, Mum."

"Look at me when you talk, Sirius. You are a Black, not a common house-elf," Walburga instructed.

Sirius slowly raised his head.

"And what did you tell him?"

"That the house next door was haunted," Sirius's voice was barely audible. "By a Mudblood."

Before he knew it, she had struck him. It had been so quick that he hadn't even seen it coming, but it stung all the same. Regulus whimpered. From the corner of his eye, Sirius could see that Kreacher was practically gloating. "Do you think the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would ever tolerate a Mudblood living next door?"

There was the answer that he knew he should say; that he knew Regulus would say. But Sirius was not Regulus. "But we live in a Muggle neighborhood," he pointed out, curiosity winning over fear.

But when he saw Walburga's eyes bulge, he wished that fear had won.

"ENOUGH!" Walburga bellowed even though Sirius had stopped talking. She had finally snapped, spitting venom as she shook with fury. "This is not a Muggle neighborhood. This is a Black neighborhood. The Black family lives here. We live here. For centuries, we have lived here. Not them. They are NOTHING but filth. They are filth. Filth does not live. Filth simply feeds off filth. Filth should never be spoken of. Do you understand?"

But Sirius did not understand. He knew that Muggles and Mudbloods and blood traitors were nothing more than filth, but he didn't understand why. Everyone around him told him so, but they had never offered a hint of an explanation. What made the Black family so superior? Did blood really make that much of a difference? He knew it had to, but he couldn't understand why something so little, something only from chance, could have such an enormous difference.

But his cheek still hurt and he knew that there would be a mark in the morning. Miraculously, Sirius managed to keep his thoughts to himself. Instead, he nodded his head. "Yes, Mum."

"Good."

Her voice had lowered, but it was still hard. She extended a hand and Sirius automatically flinched, but did not step back. He held his ground, knowing that being a coward would only enrage her further.

But instead of striking him again, Walburga simply brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. Her fingers were cold, reminding him of icicles. Even though he guessed that she was offering a motherly gesture, Sirius held his breath, not fully trusting her.

"Follow me," Walburga said suddenly, and Sirius and Regulus had no choice but to obey. They scrambled after her, a few steps behind, exchanging bewildered and somewhat fearful glances. But it didn't take long for Sirius to realize where Walburga was headed. He groaned to himself, hoping that another long lecture wouldn't be in store for him.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Sirius found himself glaring at the tapestry. The gold threads mocked him as they did every other day.

"Both of you are growing up," Walburga announced.

Sirius sneaked a glance at her, curious. Her usual lectures did not begin that way.

"Both of you will attend Hogwarts. You will be Sorted into Slytherin, marry a pure blood, and bring glory to the name of Black."

She was speaking to both of them, but her eyes, now glowing with pride, were on Regulus. This did not go unnoticed by Sirius, but it did not surprise him. It had always been that way. Biting his lip, he focused on the tapestry before him.

Sirius still didn't feel like a Black, not that he would ever confess that to Walburga. He could just imagine how well that conversation would end. It wasn't that he hadn't tried. He tried more times that he could count. His few accomplishments went unnoticed while his many failures were always noticed.

He acted before he thought. He interrupted when spoken to. He daydreamed and never listened. He asked questions rather than following instructions. He fidgeted instead of keeping still. He laughed when he was told to be serious. He lost his temper when he needed to keep it the most. He somehow muddied indoors when it wasn't even raining. He managed to break rules that he didn't even know existed. He could never stop confusing Cepheus Black with Cetus Black, much to Walburga's horror.

Sirius Orion Black was not the ideal Black.

The not so simple truth was, the names on the tapestry seemed like distant figures, larger than life, impossible to imitate. Compared to Regulus, Sirius had always felt like the failure, doomed for disappointment. Blacks weren't disappointments, which was precisely why he didn't belong there.

Sometimes, he was relieved about it. Being one of them seemed... like it took a lot of responsibility. Sirius didn't like responsibility. According to Walburga, he wasn't very responsible, so maybe that was why. Sirius couldn't understand what was so fascinating about their family history. He supposed some of the gorier events were interesting enough, but being outside in the real world seemed like so much more fun. He wanted to live in the moment, not dwell on the past.

Regulus always fretted over failing to meet the family's high expectations, and Sirius told himself that it was better that he was considered the lesser of the two brothers. He would rather accept being the disappointment instead of being constantly paranoid of it, as Regulus was. Living in the moment was better than fearing the next, wasn't it? It was nice, pretending that he didn't care. Especially on the days when he believed it. Yes, in some ways, Sirius was glad that he felt different.

But it was nothing compared to the bitterness.

It wasn't fair that Regulus was their parents' pride and joy, that whatever Sirius did paled in comparison. It wasn't fair that every Black had succeeded at something. It wasn't fair that Sirius had to try so hard at everything, and still only be reprimanded for his faults. Walburga was always comparing him to the other family members, who had most likely been perfect since birth, and it was always Sirius who was cast in a negative light. He never measured up and he loathed the worn out material on the wall for portraying that so obviously.

He wanted to be glad again, but he was not. Part of him may have been happy to be free of Regulus's worries, but the other part of him wanted to belong to that tapestry.

"I have faith in both of you," Walburga said finally.

Sirius almost believed her.