Life for the three residents of number 12 Grimmauld Place was anything but quiet.
Everyday for a month Walburga would rise at dawn head off to the Ministry where she would argue her sons innocence. It was Albus Dumbledore that was pushing for the Black heir to be found guilty of all charges; though the elderly Headmaster of Hogwarts had yet to provide any proof that Sirius was involved in any of the events that took place at Godric's Hollow.
And everyday Syrus would wake his daddy pa'foo just after ten and demand breakfast. Then Sirius would give the little boy his bath and dress him in the expected robes that Walburga had purchased; after all no grandson of hers would wear anything less than the very best. Which was then followed by lunch and a family history lesson; something else that was expected by Mistress Black.
By the time dinner rolled around Walburga would be home and regaling her son, rather joyfully, with the events of the day which included the betrayal of those he thought his friends. She seemed to take great pleasure in telling him how hard Dumbledore was pushing for his imprisonment in Azkaban.
It only took a month for the Wizengamot to reach a verdict; not guilty of all charges. It was clear that the Black family still had its clout. Which was made clearer when all those whispering about bribery and corruption seemed to up and disappear one day.
"They want to see him." Walburga announced one day out of the blue.
Sirius sighed and took a generous gulp of firewhiskey. He still wasn't comfortable around his mother but he had gotten better at hiding it. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell them that I've taken him and moved to France?"
Walburga frowned. "Most certainly not!" She snapped. "Druella is getting impatient. Last time we spoke she accused me of making him up just to steal the title away from her preciously little Draco." Her frown deepened. "No child without the Black name will hold the title of Head of this family!" She had nothing against the Malfoy's, even if they weren't one of the Most Ancient and Noble families, but she'd sooner behead Kreature, her most loyal servant, before letting a non Black sit at the Head of the family; regardless of his bloodlines.
"Christmas then." Sirius decided as his eyes strayed to Syrus who was quietly playing with his magical blocks on the floor. "Tell them that we'll host the party here this year. That way we keep the advantage."
"How very Slytherin of you." Walburga told him sarcastically. The more time she was spending with her son the more she was seeing traits that would have surely gotten him placed in Slytherin. How he ever got into Gryffindor, which was an extremely large disappointment, was a mystery to her.
Sirius snorted. "I do try mother." He shifted around the sofa knowing that the blasted thing didn't like him therefore was making itself hard and uncomfortable on purpose. He finished his firewhiskey and left Kreature take away the empty glass. His eyes once again found his son. The boy was so different from what he remembered; though having your family killed and almost yourself probably had something to do with the personality shift.
Walburga, as if reading Sirius' mind, spoke. "He needs children his own age to interact with. He's too timid."
"He's never really been around other children." Sirius revealed. "Except for the Longbottom boy." He stood and moved to the window to look out into the darkness. "He's another boy that won't get the life he deserved." It was mumbled more to himself than anyone. "Though with young Neville fate was cruel and unyielding."
"Nev?" Syrus asked as he abandoned his blocks, pushed himself to his feet, and toddled over to his daddy.
Sirius quickly wiped his eyes and with a sad smile scooped up his son. "No Neville is with his grandmother now Syrus. Maybe when you both are older something can be arranged."
"Augustus is a blithering old fool." Walburga dismissed with a snort. "The boy should have been placed with a proper family. Dumbledores meddling prevented it not doubt. He'll no doubt be raised to worship the ground Albus walks upon as is with all children of those sorts of families."
"Neville shouldn't needed to be placed anywhere!" Sirius snapped stressing the boys name. "He should have been allowed to grow up with his parents! But what do you care? It was your favorite niece that tortured them!" He yelled. "Bet you're bloody proud!" With that he tightened his arms around Syrus and strode from the room.
Walburga simply watched her son storm from the room then took a sip from her ever present tea cup. "He always was an emotional boy." She mumbled then turned her attention back to the correspondence she had been working on. Perhaps she'd owl Narcissa and tell her to bring Draco over tomorrow so that Syrus could learn what a proper playmate was. Yes, she'd just do that.