"...disgrace our family name...blood traitors, Mudbloods, you ought to be ashamed...trying to corrupt your brother...a black sheep." Sirius stares at the impeccably-shined floor as each word spewed out of his mother's mouth raises his blood's temperature by one degree, until it's boiling furiously.
"Have you got nothing to say for yourself?" Walburga rasps, finally out of steam. "Are you even remotely ashamed?"
The instinctive, complacent yes rises to his lips, but he swallows back the bitter lie. "No," he says, lifting his gaze to meet his mother's. "I'm not ashamed that I met James. James treated me better than any of you did."
Walburga's face fills up with outrage. "You ungrateful brat!" she shouts. "You spineless worm! You're tainting our name! We gave you everything you've ever wanted, and yet you still gallivant off to that school and return with no morals, no shame —"
Each word stings as his mother tries to verbally beat sense into him, but Sirius thinks of James — fearless, confident James — and he stands a little bit taller.
"Mother!" He cuts into her tirade, his voice commanding and proud. "Just...just shut up!"
Walburga freezes and her eyes narrow ominously. "What did you just say to me?"
He's so, so tired of obedience.
"Shut up," he repeats. "I'm sick of — of your prejudices, of your selfishness, your disgusting ideals. You're trying to twist me into something I'm not. What's so honorable about being a Black when all you do is sneer at 'lesser' wizards? I thought Houses were supposed to embrace people, not discriminate by blood!"
"That's not how it works, dear son." Walburga takes a step forward, her voice soft, but not soft enough to disguise the ominousness. "We do not sneer, we step upon them. Their blood is less pure than ours — " through inbreeding, Sirius thinks, wrinkling his nose "—and they think they can dictate what we do. We are not so foolish. We know anyone with impure blood does not have a right to perform magic. Their powers are either stolen or passed down by a blood traitor. The Potters were once such a family — their ancestors were pure, but somewhere along the way, a Mudblood or half-blood married into the family and bore children with tainted blood. That is why they are blood traitors, and that is why you cannot associate with that blood traitor classmate of yours. You bring dishonor to our family when you commiserate with someone like him."
Sirius let out a derisive laugh. "Then you're an idiot. James is purer than anyone than I've ever known — he is pure at heart, and even if his family is a traitor in your so-called opinion, which, by the way, is ridiculous and outdated."
Walburga stared at her flesh and blood, her face flooding with heat — angry heat. How dare he be so insolent, especially when she had groomed him to be the head of the noble House of Black?
It was that damn school, she decided. Next year, they would enroll him at Durmstrang, where they valued purebloods over all else. Her son's nonsense would be stomped out of him.
Yes, that's what she would.
Sirius, quite stubbornly, refused to comply. When they presented him with an acceptance letter containing the list of required materials, he ripped it up and threw it into the fire. When they took him to Diagon Alley, he adopted a sullen expression and refused to buy anything that was on the list.
This rebellious phase would die down, Walburga figured. The school year was nearing and he would have no choice but to attend Durmstrang.
And then, the night of August 31st, Sirius ran away. Yes, he took his trunk, his wand, everything. He fled. And he went straight to the Potters, who let him spend the night and dropped him off with James at the station in the morning.
During all of this, Walburga wasn't panicking for the reasons everyone thought she was. She was upset that he, in a cowardly, childish move, had run from his family, without regarding what would happen to them. People would laugh at the Blacks if they found out.
So the Blacks kept this among themselves, and no one ever knew.
This became an annual occurrence. No matter how much his parents fought with him, he defended his decisions with pride. Blacks were proud, the only thing he was willing to admit. He refused to be cowed by his parents' harsh words.
Nor would he stay the whole summer.
His visits to the Potters became earlier until his parents had had enough and burned him off the family tree. That night, he packed his things and moved in with the Potters permanently.
All while keeping his head high.
801 words
Capture the Flag - "Pride" by American Authors
