Disclaimer: I don't Own Harry Potter. Enough said, on with the story!
A/N: YEAH! I finally updated! I am sorry it took so long! I was busy and pretty lazy too..;
But here is chapter 3And I FINALLY Got a Beta!
Special Thanks to Manni! My Beta! I Love you! You're Brilliant!
the only thing is the beginning of the chapter maybe a lot errors. There was a bit of confusion when we started the beta thing and well I am really tired and sleepy and didn't bother to go through like the first few paragraphs. I can't help it! Another IMPORTANT announcement is... You guys please Review and tell me if you want me to continue this Fic or not because I am really considering discontinuing it because of the lack of reviews and going off to focus my energies on other more important things than this. Let me know if you want this fic to continue. I can't promise quick updates but I can promise more dedication. I am considering opening an e-mail account so everyone can reach me at if they have questions on the Fic or at my lack of updates. Keep checking my Bio for changes and the next time I updated my other Fic TUTOT Ill leave the e-mail address there and in my bio. so check about.
Umm well that's all I have to say!
Isafold I hope you're still watching! And the owl name came from my Greek Mythology Book!
Enjoy the chapter! And don't forget to review!
Chapter 3
Journeys
"I am Sorry Remus, I wasn't thinking," Sirius he pronounced in shame. He felt nervous, he could feel the acids in his stomach building as he kept himself composed all through the time he explained to Remus exactly what he did.
Remus just sat upright in the infirmary bed, his eyes slightly red from the over tired night. His wrists as well as one hand were wrapped up in bandages as his right cheek bore there straight scars of a shaped paw going straight across, no doubt would heal in time. He was paler than he usually was after the night. But he was so close to death this time, a little voice in Sirius mind reminded him as he shifted. He sat there as composed as Sirius, the whole time watching him, revealing no emotion what so ever to everything that was said.
"Will you say something, hurl your nightstand at me or anything then just remain tacit" Sirius outburst irritated by his friend's lack of emotion, their friendship slipping away. Swallowing the knot that had been forming in his throat he ran a hand through his black hair; All his years in Hogwarts he never felt this nervous this horrible and he despised the feeling of it. He had taught himself long ago not to fear, not to fear the world and it's wraths. "Oh, why feel apprehensive? It's just a couple of Dung Bombs nothing will go wrong" A confident smile, eyes burning with mischief thirst of adventure. But this was different, a different situation that terminology did not apply here.
"What do you want me to say Sirius?" Remus questioned quietly the vermin in his tone slowly growing. His uninjured hand clutched to the infirmaries bed sheets, his eyes not masking the passionate anger they held.
"How I trusted you and you did the very thing that I have always feared" he paused. Sirius looked up at him, the severing glare mixed with hurt Remus was giving him made him cringe with shame.
"I could have been a murderer; I could have woken up with Severus blood on me, did that thought not cross your mind?" His voice was rising ever so slowly but in a talkative level. Remus would not yell, no matter how much he wished to do so.
"I wasn't thinking at the time, I am sorry" Sirius responded weakly, he had no justification for his actions, nothing at all what so ever. The shame, the guilt build it's own river, the bridge was going underwater and he the traveler stood in the gap it held, the road not taking.
"Of course you weren't you never do" Remus retorted sharply.
"Remus I—"
"I want you out Black, I don't want to speak to you or see you" he cut him off sharply, the anger evident in his voice. Sirius stood from his seat, taking a deep breath. He cast one last glance at Remus, whom glared at him in return before turning his whole body around and walking away. The light grew as he walked down the hall of the infirmary, passing James and Peter whom glared at him. The light grew to the point where nothing else existed but it.
His eyes opened slowly, he found the light was transpiration through the curtains from his window. He sat up halfway realizing he was still in his school clothes from yesterday. Rubbing his eyes tiredly he swung his legs over his bed and stepped on the floor. He took a swift glance around the room as he pulled his curtains open, finding the other three beds empty. It was late morning and today was the day everyone would be leaving for holidays.
He quickly got to his feet; seeing how he was already dressed he changed his white shirttails and splashed his face with water to wake up. Picking up his bag on the way out of the room he walked down the stairs and right into the common room. Today was the last day of term and classes would be dismissed early. Skipping breakfast again, Sirius headed out for his first class.
All through the day Sirius held his chin up, grouchily wishing there was a way around going home. He really did not want to go home, for the first time in four years now he really loathed these holidays. Preparing his trunk, for it he sighed, contemplating his situation. He was going and there was no way around it; He couldn't just not go, no matter how much he wished to do that; no matter how much he wanted to irk his mother, he just had to go especially since they held the ability of turning his life into hell. He shut his trunk tightly sighing, as the door opened. In came James and Peter talking among each other quietly.
Turning his back to them he set his trunk down pocketing his wand. Turning he made his way to leave when James stood right in front of him. He stood tall in the same height as Sirius, his black hair was disheveled as usual as his glasses fell down his long noise in a mellowed out manner much to his personality. He was a handsome boy from the looks of it, his hazel eyes shining with a mixture of emotion that was inscrutable.
Sirius shifted to pass him but he stood firmly.
"You forgot to shut the Quiditch crate properly, the bludgers almost got out in the lockers," James stated.
"Ill remember next time, now if that's all you need to say can you stand aside I need to pass" Sirius said coldly. It had been awhile since they both talked, and he wasn't sure what he wanted out of this conversation but he sure wasn't going to be exactly warm about this. He knew how they felt, he had made it clear and he didn't blame him. He granted him that his rightful anger, but he still felt angry, ashamed, hurt because they didn't know.
"If you're looking for your transfiguration book Peter, and I got it for you here," James responded gesturing to Peter whom had now joined his side. He was only half the height of the two males; short and slightly plum with rose-colored cheeks, and clear crystal blue eyes that matched his blonde, short, clean hair. He held the book in his hands, in a hesitating way, as he shifted his own weight from one foot to another in a dilatory manner.
"Thanks, you didn't have to," Sirius said hiding his slight shock. He took the book from Peter's hands and turned his back walking back to his own bed. He laid the book there on his bed.
"Are you staying here?" James questioned him in a curious manner as he approached him, Peter following him.
"No," he answered, picking up his trunk.
"I'm obligated to attend the engagement ceremony of my dearest cousin, Narcissa," the sarcasm was evident in his voice.
"You're going back home?" Peter asked in half disbelief, half pity. Knowing all about the ancient and most noble House of Black from Sirius; all the malicious things and beliefs his parents had he could understand why Sirius loathed them, but to visit them for Christmas was beyond them.
"You're welcome over to—"
"I am obligated to go. There's no way around it, and I am not thrilled about it either," he snapped sharply cutting off James before he could finish his sentence. He knew what he was going to ask. He could not go, he could not accept no matter how much he wanted to. Remus would be there for a few days, and as well as Peter, and he could not be there. His frustration was growing from this.
"But you never listened to them before" Peter stated. He gulped his face contracting in fear.
"There's no way around this one," Sirius replied, slowly fighting the urge to kick his trunk. He pulled on his black cloak, and dragged his trunk in front. He was now facing both James and Peter. He locked eyes with James, the first time in a month since their fall out.
"Take care of yourself, alright? And I mean really take care of yourself, not the way you have lately," his tone was serious filled with brotherly emotion, his hazel eyes sparkled with concern only enforcing his statement. Sirius didn't know how to respond to this. He nodded his head in an impassive manner.
"Be careful Sirius," Peter added- the boy having found some of his Gryffindor courage.
"Happy holidays to the both of you," Sirius responded before leaving the room. There was more to be said. He wanted to tell them how stupid he had been- how he really missed them; missed being with his friends, and how the past month had been nothing but hell. Now his holidays were heading to the general direction where the gates of hell were located; in London's most aristocrat neighborhood.
The snow fell gracefully through the streets of London, like honorable angels dancing through the hazy gray sky. They stained nothing but the cement ground, as the people walked through in their overcoats and hats. The winds caressed the people, as they huddled more closely in their coats and, in some cases, with their loved ones. Sirius pushed his cart filled with his trunk; he left his most prized possessions at what he truly called a home- the dorm. As he walked on, his gaze wondered to a couple that walked huddled together with their two young children clutching to them. The youngest boy clutched his mums' hand tightly as his mother stroked his hair fondly and smiled down at him. The older child walked proud and tall for a ten year old next to his father, that grinned at him and slapped his shoulder, pulling him close to him as they walked.
"There you are," snapped a voice from the left of him. Sirius broke out of his dream state, in a callow manner he looked in the direction of the voice. It was a tall woman that was dressed in a beautiful jade green cloak, with silver jewels glimmering stuck in elegant paths. Her black hair was tied into an eloquent knot; her eyes were of a deep austere dark brown. The resemblance between her and Sirius were great, except for the eyes and facial structure. Just next to her stood a very annoyed fourteen year old boy; with the same black hair and brown eyes- just like his mother, already in his wizard robes.
"Here I am," he muttered as he moved his cart forward not a particular hurrying manner. Typical mother, wearing wizard cloaks in public, Sirius thought annoyed by this. He moved along to them, his face barring nothing but a cold jaded expression. His mother cast him a menacing glance as she pulled the younger boy and motioned for Sirius to follow. Sirius did so, after abandoning the cart he carried his trunk to the side of the street where they came to a stop. His mother turned smugly taking out her wand.
"Have they taught you nothing? Or have the ruckuses and disgraceful miscreants," her nostrils flared "that you accompany disabled your memory from a simple levitating spell?" she snapped coldly.
"Actually mother, I do remember how to perform a simple levitating spell," he declared just as coldly "But you must not forget that this is London we are now in, the use of magic in front of muggles will bring the ministry of magic here, or have you already forgotten the wizarding degree laws?" Sirius retorted in a calm voice, suppressing his irritation under his words.
"I have not forgotten the degree laws, but you also know I don't give a damn about them, nor does your father, who will be speaking to you tonight," she snapped back her fierce browns glaring daggers his way.
"Oh, what pure joy that will be" Sirius responded sarcastically earning himself another venomous glare. He carried his trunk through the streets, he may have refused to use a levitating charm but he had of course placed a "light weight" charm on his trunk before getting off the train. He walked on the street proudly as his mother spoke feverishly in French.
"Où avons-nous mal tourné avec vous ? association à ces mudbloods dégradants. Vous n'êtes rien mais un déshonneur à la famille noire. Courant autour avec ces amoureux de mudblood, je peux seulement espérer que cette fois loin d'eux vous redressera dehors."
"Ne tenez pas votre souffle sur cela," he responded with the French he was able to retain from primary school. She glared at him and carried on with her passionate rant as the two followed.
Soon enough they neared the house, Grimmauld number twelve, the aristocrat neighborhood. His mother twisted the serpent shaped handle, opening it wieldy as the three entered. Much to his distaste, Sirius could not help but frown darkly. Despite the curtains being close that did not hold back the glimmering lights that the chandler gave off . Walking through the hall he found the portraits talking among themselves, as some of them were asleep.
"Regulus, put your things away and get washed up- dinner will be soon," she said directing an almost kind gaze to the younger boy as she pulled the silver gloves from her hands
"Yes mother," Regulus responded giving Sirius a glare before mounting the stairs.
"The same goes for you, maybe you'll be able to wash some of that muggle filth off you," she glared setting them on the corner table before brushing past him.
Sirius sighed, putting down his trunk he took out his wand that stuck out in the corner of his pocket.
"Weingarden Leviosa" he muttered clearly pointing to the trunk. He walked up the stairs directing his trunk with his back to it, right behind him.
"I thought you were going to spend Christmas with those mudblood friends of yours" Regulus echoed sharply. He stood his back against the corner of his door, arms crossed around his chest. His eyes sparkled maliciously with pure abhorrence. He heard him, without even looking at him he directed his trunk to the floor, and last he turned to him coldly surveying him.
"Plans change, and I wouldn't brand my friends as 'mudbloods' mon petit frere, or I might just " he responded coolly glaring at him as a challenge.
"I am not nine anymore Sirius, don't think I wont fight back," he responded his wand clutched tightly in his hand now.
"I wouldn't be so sure little brother," Sirius responded maneuvering his own wand in a casual manner, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes narrowing as they always with determination, excitement and even hints of anger.
"Rictusempra!" Regulus shouted his wand pointed at Sirius. A jet of silver light shot out of his wand. Sirius having his remarkable reflexes, due to his countless encounters with bludgers in Quidditch, he ducked and the spell having missed him. He turned with agility, smirking. Without a second of thought he yelled.
"Tarantallegra!" pointing at Regulus legs, before he could block it his legs jerked out of control. Regelus straggled on his legs, jerking forward and backwards dancing madly. He glowered, raising his hand ready for another spell, to defend him. His mouth opened- the words barely came out, Sirius had beaten him to it.
"Expelliarmus!" he roared with such intensity. A brilliant white light shot out of his wand, hitting Regelus' hand and wand. The wand jumbled in the air for a few moments. They locked eyes for a moment, Regelus recognizing the smirk in his eyes, and dashed for his wand but his legs jerked him back- forfeiting him to defeat. Sirius caught it. He held it tightly with his free hand. He smirked as Regulus continued to do a two-step around, glaring daggers in his direction , perspiration glistening from his brow.
"Not too quick are we now, dearest brother?" he questioned with a smirk, maneuvering his prize in between his fingers. The younger boy- his eyes bulged with pure hate.
"You're scum, you're nothing but, mudblood loving scum, and if it wasn't for fathers' letter you would have never came here. You know the only reason why father would even put up with you is because of the name. You're a disgrace to the family name, and if father and mother would have known long ahead what you would be, you wouldn't be alive," he spat out with venom, his legs jerking back and forth as he spoke.
It took Sirius a second to recover from the short outburst. He knew all this, he was aware of his parents' feelings towards him. He didn't care, or so he thought.
"Well that was rather brilliant," his voice dripped with sharp sarcasm "were you expecting an epiphany to occur from this? I am aware of what mother and father thinks," he turned for his door.
"Here, your foresight can use some practice," he said chucking his wand casually over his shoulder as he opened the door and entered his room. He registered a long sigh after shutting the door behind him. He could hear his brother whisper an incantation, and his footsteps echoing down the stairs. He took a step forward, kicked his trunk making it slide across the room and opening. He ran his hand through his dark hair, in a frustrated manner, dropping his arms to his sides.
He glanced around. His big room, there were a few posters of Quiditch teams up at the walls, that only improved the sepulchral aura the room brought in general. He glanced to his window; the curtains were drawn close, only adding to the feeling of foreboding in the very pits of his stomach. He walked over to his bed, flipped off his shoes and collapsed on his bed.
"Two bloody sodding weeks," he muttered to himself tiredly as his eyes dropped. He's right; I don't care his thoughts echoed as he buried his face into the rough cold material of his pillow.
He ran through the yard as fast as possibly, ducking around a bush. He breathed heavily, as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He could hear the stomping of another figure approaching. Holding his breath he listened as he watched through the bushes.
"Sirius! Come on Sirius!" whined a younger boy with dark hair. He stomped through the grass, his eyes glazing as they desperately looked around. He remained quiet as he watched him through the bushes, while holding his breath.
"Don't leave me here, Father is coming," The boy moaned looking desperately around for him. The tears were streaming down his flushed cheeks. Feeling a pang of guilt, he grabbed his arms, just as he turned, and pulled him in the bushes.
"Listen, Reg, just hide in my room, Father won't look there, ok?" he advised him, as the boy nodded his head thankfully, looking at him with pure gratitude in his eyes.
"Now, go!" he shooed him away. He took a deep breath; he could hear the faint screaming of his mother coming from the house. He had to get away. Making sure no one was around; he got out of the bushes and began sprinting off as fast as he could in the other direction, away from the bushes, turning the corner of the house. He could feel the rush of adrenaline spreading through his body at a rapid speed. He was just out right around the back gates, which were too high, looking at him with pure laughter because of their height. He jumped over them, feeling the rush of magic impact his jump. At times like these he was thankful for the magic his emotions performed.
He landed securely on the ground, taking a deep breath and falling to another run. He couldn't relax just yet; he needed to get out of sight. After running for what it seemed(?. How long did he run for?), he had put just enough space between him and the house, he stopped feeling calmer, finally able to loosen up. He focused his gaze to his surroundings; he hadn't been out in this portion of the streets before. He reflected as he walked down the street, looking at beautiful grand houses. He usually traveled with floo powder if he ever went out. But he knew his mother always spoke of Muggles, mudbloods that lived among their neighborhood. She didn't want him exposed to such "filth".
"No! William you're not doing it right! You have to count, and no peeking! Now, try it again,"
A feminie voice, Sirius hid behind a tree scanning with his eyes for the direction of the voice. He found it; it was a brother and a sister playing with eachother. The boy, who seemed to be the youngest, was counting, while his sister hid. "So, these are muggles" Sirius thought to himself. The muggle girl sprinted away from her younger brother, as he hid his face against the tree and began to count. Sirius watched as the girl stopped just near him, she looked questionably through the numerous of spaces she could hide in. Her gaze fell on him; she hurried over, stopping just next to him.
"I haven't seen you before," she said seizing him up with her light green eyes. Her auburn hair fell to her shoulders in strange angles. She was, fairly, one inch shorter than he was; and dressed, in what he guessed, were the primary school clothes for muggle children. He always caught glances of muggle children walking down their street in the same uniform.
"Mother doesn't let me out as much," Sirius responded scanning the girl.
"Pity, really," she responded her eyes focusing on him, looking as if she was trying to make up her mind about him.
"Lets hide, William will be looking for me in a second," she finally said, grabbing a hold of his hand and pulling him, she turned slightly nodding her head. Sirius followed her as she ran in the opposite direction of where Grimaulds was. They passed a few houses before coming to a stop. They hid behind some bushes.
"I am Persephone Jameson, and who are you?" she asked eyeing Sirius with keenness.
"I am Sirius Black," he said flashing her a smile.
"Why doesn't your mum let you come out and play? I have never seen you before today," she said slowly.
"Mother doesn't want us associating with Muggles," Sirius responded, glancing around.
"Muggles?" she cocked her brow, her green eyes sparkling questionably.
"Well, that doesn't sound very nice, what does it mean?" she commented and asked glancing around.
"People without magic," Sirius responded slowly.
"Magic? Well, I know magic," she said quietly.
"You do?" he asked skeptically- eyes widened in curiosity and suspicion.
"Why yes, it's magical enough that were living, that this flower," she said pointing to it.
"Is so beautiful, wouldn't you think so?" she asked, smiling mystically.
"I suppose so," he answered unsurely. This was one strange muggle; he couldn't help but think. But for some reason he had the feeling that she was about his thinking level, more intelligent for a child her age- their age. Were all muggles like this? He wondered, but before he could voice his thoughts, he heard light feet approaching.
"I found you!" William, the younger boy, jumped right before them smiling victoriously. His green eyes sparkled happily- his face flushed.
"Well done, William!" Persephone smiled, patting the younger boy on the back. Sirius just watched them both. He never acted like this towards Regelus; was this how muggle children acted like? The little boy eyed him suspiciously.
"Who are you?" he asked cocking his brow almost in the same manner as his sister had done so before.
"I am Sirius Black" Sirius responded smiling once more. The young boy smiled.
"Well I am William Jameson, pleasure to make your acq-q-n-uaintan-se" William responded mimicking an adult, yet failing to pronounce the word correctly.
"Oh, William! Stop it," Persephone conveyed, cuffing him lightly on the head; a smile was of course evident on her features, revealing that she did in fact find this adorable. William just stuck his tongue out at her, and chuckled.
"Are all muggles like you?" Sirius asked eyeing them both with pure curiosity as he watched all this happen.
"Well," she paused to think, "no, we're all different people," she tried to answer his question. She scrutinized him, as he did the same to her. William sat looking annoyed at both of them.
"Well, come now! Let's have a game of hide-and-seek," the younger boy interjected by grabbing a hold of Persephone's hand and pulling her, fairly annoyed by the lack of playing. Sirius followed them into the street heading for the same place he once found them. He hitched his hands in the pockets of his trousers watching them. These were muggle children; he never knew they were like him and Regelus; wanting to play, have some fun, yet more care free and rather kind.
"Sirius you're it this time, for hide-and-seek," William said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Ahh, how do you play?" Sirius asked unsurely, this was the first time he ever heard of such a game. The only games he ever played were the ones where he ran and hid from Bella, of course, after he caused some mayhem, bodily injuries, or maimed one of her personal items. Andromeadea loved helping him hide, or sometimes even helped him prank her. Of course she deserved it, after all the spells she placed on him- the things she did. Nevertheless, other than these sort of recreational games, he had never played any games before, at least nothing muggle-like.
"You've never played?" Persephone questioned him disbelievingly, her green eyes filling with the same mystical aura.
"No," He responded looking at them both with pure seriousness.
"Just close your eyes and count to ten, we'll hide, and you have to find us before we touch the trees trunk," William responded, eyeing Sirius suspiciously once more, but not really caring if he knew or not, he wanted to play.
"Rightio, (huh?)" Sirius said heading for the trunk of the tree. He leaned against it as the boy had done before, and began to count. By the time he reached ten, he turned around and all was quiet once more. He began looking around at the few muggle "cars," as they called them (he once heard Andromeadea talking about them and how muggles use them for transportation), and around the bushes. The sun had slowly begun to descend from behind the already gray clouds, and the wind began to pull up. He hitched his hands deeper into his pockets, as he continued to search for both of children.
He turned another corner, stopping. He looked towards the houses; he could see Grimaulds rooftop sticking out beyond a few houses. It had been awhile since he had left, he knew he should be heading back now, he could only imagine the kinds of punishments he would receive this time.
"There you are!" hands shook him from the shoulders roughly. He turned facing a very disgruntle looking young woman, that bore the resemblance of his, except the eye and facial structure. She had long black hair that fell to her back, twisted, and turned from the possible ran. Her brown eyes, that had tints of gray, bore the expression of pure anger with a mixture of hate.
"Disobeying your father and me! Come now," she said in a deadly whisper as her nails dug into his shoulders, while she partly lead him and pulled him to the house. He suppressed the groan, masking his emotions, as he dared not struggle.
"Your father will deal with you," She said to him as she ranted on in French. Sirius cringed inwardly at this, as he dared not look at her. He turned his head and looked to his side, he could see Persephone holding William by the shoulders as they watched him turn and leave for the house. His mother twisted the serpent door handle, and pushed him into the house. Sirius stumbled, sighing inwardly. But he would not show any weakness; he learned long ago that showing weakness only pleased them, worsened the situation, and made it less bearable than it already was.
"To his study room now!" His mother snapped at him, her eyes bulging with anger. Sirius turned his head and obeyed. He walked through the hall, up the stairs, and into the study room. It was a dark room, and his father sat in the chair behind the desk, a handsome man with black hair, just like Sirius', and gray blue eyes, again, just like his own, only they held a deeper fear within them; they were cold as ice, and twice as hard than the carefree the young boy held.
"Sit!" he instructed plainly, with no emotion attached. He did as he was told.
"Where did you go?" he asked him quietly, his eyes glowing maliciously.
"Outside, Father," Sirius responded without looking into his eyes.
"Look at me when speaking," His father enjoined sharply. Sirius turned his head up, looking into his eyes this time.
"Now, who did you talk to?" he asked him, his eyes blazing deeply with strong malice, with such intensity that Sirius could feel the burning coils wrapping around him, restraining him, forcing him to speak. He could not turn away- he was trapped.
"To muggle children, father," He responded. The coils were tightening around his body; he could feel the pressure in his ribcage.
"To muggles? You know how your mother and I feel about Muggles, they are nothing but worthless waste of space," his eyes were glowing darkly, but his voice remained normal. Sirius could feel himself suffocating. The coils were gripping to every bone, every muscle in his body.
"And you disobeyed us," he remarked in a deadly whisper. The memory of the muggle children he met played in his mind repeatedly, as the pain increased. He knew this was his punishment for leaving the house, for talking to muggles. The world around him was going black.
He opened and closed his eyes slowly, listening to the howling wind pound against the windows of his room, the house, with intensity. He turned on his back, opening them slowly. He loathed this; the memories of his childhood were rushing back to him like a wave, even in his dreams he could not escape them. Spending a Christmas with the people he loathed only intensified his anger, his depression.
He lifted himself up and swung his feet over the bed. He was still in his Hogwarts clothes, and he did not feel like changing in fact. It's time I faced father, he thought to himself with a bitter smile as he walked out of the room, and through the halls down to the first floor. He came to a stop in front of a door. He took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally. With that done, he opened the door that creaked, and stepped into the wide, workroom.
The room was big with and resembled an old Victorian atmosphere. A cast shadow fell into the room; the only light source was the window behind the desk that had the shades drawn. There was a painting on one of the walls; its once vibrant colors had mellowed down to darker shades of it. Moreover, there were books on the shelf that were open and closed, neatly put away, as dust had made its home. In the chair sat a man, the same man he knew, and had come to hate; the same man that he once wished would show him in his childhood some love. He had the same face, the same beauty; his hair still maintained the dark color, only with strands of white now that glimmered severely with each move. He wore beautiful wizarding robes; silver symbols were patterned into the shoulder of it. He looked up at the glance of Sirius his eyes sparkled with pure malice.
Sirius walked further in, his face masked, with no emotion whatsoever. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his right fingering his wand. He stopped in front of the desk looking casually at the parchment ship that was stacked neatly on the desk.
"Sit," he instructed, his lips twitching. Sirius hesitated for a brief moment before sitting down mimicking an almost relaxed pose.
"I received a letter from Dumbledore, and I want to know what you did to almost face expulsion this time," his voice rarely raised, cold and sharp. Sirius looked up at the crown of his head, not in the eyes; he could not look him in the eyes.
"I did nothing father, nothing I haven't done," He replied coldly, as his eyes, intently starring, scrutinized every detail, like the shades of color he had on the crown of his head.
"Look at me when speaking," he drawled his eyes fierce. He fingered his wand in his pocket, his safe keep. He had to look up; he slowly let his gaze fall, from his wrinkled brow to the hairs of his eyebrows, the top eyelids, eyelashes that curved the same way his do.
"Yes, Father," he responded icily, locking eyes. He felt it, the pressure in his head, bounding against his mental shield. He focused his mind on keeping it up, not letting it fail.
"What did you do this time?" He asked him, his eyes still locked into his. He clutched his wand tightly in one pocket as he clenched a fist on his free hand. The pressure was increasing by the moment; his skull was close to shattering.
"Nothing I haven't done before, Father," he responded as his eyes narrowed, his face masked with complete impassiveness, as he had trained to be long ago.
His eyes flashed with anger. His hand dropped the wand in his pocket; the perspiration in his hand had caused the wand to slide off his hand. The coils bonded his body tightly; pressing deeply into his skin like a hot iron. Bloody hell! He thought to himself angrily, suppressing a grimace.
"You may reside in the Gryffindor house, and you may have those friends but you're a Black, Toujours Pur as much as you fight it, it will never leave you," he stood from his desk, and walking around it. The coils tightened even more, he could feel his skin burning. He forced himself to suppress a shudder as he glared.
"No matter how much you fight it," his father drawled lowering his face to Sirius level, "these veins," he pressed a finger on the green veins that were popping out of his hands glowing a Slytherin green.
"Impel Black blood-pure blood- and they know it, and when the time comes they will realize who you really are, they'll realize that if they haven't already," his lips twisted into a smirk.
"Vous Avez Tort," he demurred in a cold whisper. His father laughed, the heat from the coils growing.
"Vous verrez, toujours pur," he alleged, his eyes flashing sharply once more. The bonds fell. Sirius relaxed in the chair.
"You may go now," he heard him say with pleasure in his tone.
He could feel himself burning in anger, but he suppressed it inwardly. He held his head high as he walked out of the room, not showing any sign of weakness. He turned up to the stairs, glowering, the walls the colors mixing as he paid no mind to them. He entered his room, and shut the door; his hand clutching the handle, leaving some perspiration on the center.
He kept suppressing it, feeling the frustration in his throat through the aches the bonds had caused him. He paced in the room, and walked over to his window. The wind was powerful than ever, hitting against his windowpanes with ferocity, it's own freedom its own power . He scanned the sky, watching the snow mingle in the different shades of the wind; he needed an outlet- he needed the dorm. He hitched open the window, and almost admittedly a strong wind hit his body with even more intensity than before.
"They're wrong," he said, to no one in particular but into the air, into the storms core. His fists clenched tightly, while his eyes were blazed, as the wind continued to pound against his window shutters, as well as against him.