Sirius Black gets the letter by owl post on a brisk April day.
At sixteen, he's devilishly handsome and has a way with girls rivaled only by fabulous chaser, James Potter.
Yet this letter trips him up a bit. Distracts him.
Invariably, Prongs notices. Like he couldn't. But Sirius doesn't tell him anything.
It isn't as if he cares much. It just hurts. More than he expected.
And when James finally pulls him aside and threatens to Imperius him into spitting it out, he breaks down and cries.
"They've disowned me. My family disowned me. I'm not a Black anymore."