Sirius
"Sirius Arcturus Black, how dare you!"
Walburga Black had her eldest son pinned against the wall, her eyes flashing with fury as she shoved her wand into his face. "Such behavior is unforgivable for the heir to our noble house of Black," she spat. "You ought to be ashamed!"
"But Mother, I'm not ashamed," said Sirius boldly.
"You have no remorse?" the Black matriarch gasped.
In her youth, Walburga Rosier Black might have been an attractive woman. She had sharp, defined cheekbones and piercing beady black eyes. Her lips were full and red and she had a curved, slender figure. She was the definition of elegance. Her black hair was peppered with grey, and pulled up into a tight, stern bun. She wore a dark purple high-necked gown with a green broach that looked to be very old. But as her anger consumed her and her face flushed red, Sirius could see nothing but wildness in his usually poised mother.
"That's right," he snapped. "I don't give a damn what you think! S-so leave me alone and let me be... I don't care if I'm not the perfect Black son because I'll never be!"
"TREASON!" shrieked Walburga, and she aimed her wand at Sirius. "Alarte Ascen—"
But Sirius was quicker. He drew his wand from his pocket and yelled, "Expelliarmus!"
Walburga's wand flew from her hands and landed at her feet. Screaming with fury, she lunged for her son, and he escaped in the nick of time. Panting, Sirius ran hurriedly down the stairs of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, dodging hexes that singed wallpaper and left burn marks on furniture.
Finally, Sirius managed to escape. He flung open the front door and hastily closed it behind him. He had to get out of there...
His eyes turned to a red phone booth and he grinned.
He knew just who to call...