Marius refuses to allow tears to fall from his eyes. Crying is a weakness, and he's not weak. He's a Black and Blacks are strong.
So he stands before his father, his head held high and his eyes fixed on a point on the wall behind his father's head. "He disgraces the family name. He is no Black and no son of mine," his father speaks harshly. But Marius refuses to flinch as his father talks, even though the words sting him.
And his mother isn't sympathetic either. She looks down at him with disgust written clear on her face and no mercy in her eyes. "What will we do with him?" Violetta asks her husband.
He doesn't show how much it hurts him to hear his parents proclaim such terrible things. He was taught that showing emotions – especially hurt – is a weakness. So instead, he stands there silently, listening to every world-shattering word that his parents share and pretends it doesn't kill him.
He watches in silence as his father burns his face from the family tapestry. And he's no fool; he knows exactly what it means. They are removing him from their lives because he is different – a useless Squib – and different is disgraceful to the family name.
And Marius still refuses to shed a tear, because he's stronger than that. They may have just removed him from their lives, but they can't take his values and morals away from him. Because he's still a Black, through and through.
Only allowing him time to gather a few necessities, his parents issue their final order – "Leave this house and never come back."
With his head held high, Marius walks away from Grimmauld Place, away from the only life he ever knew without so much as a goodbye to his siblings. And that should hurt it; it should kill him but it doesn't. Because, in his eleven years of life, he's never felt so relieved.
It doesn't matter that he doesn't know where his next meal is going to come from. It doesn't even matter that he doesn't know where he'll be sleeping tonight. He's away from the torture and the excessive need to be perfect all the time. Away from a burden no eleven year old child should have to carry.
He's Marius Black and absolutely nothing can change that, because no one can take his name from him; and he knows that his name is the only thing he has left. So he has to make it mean something.
A/n – This one just seemed to write itself.
Thanks so much to kci47 for beta-ing this for me!
Prompt used: goodbye.