Chapter 2
'Sirius! Get down here right this moment!' a high pitched voice sounded, echoing across the entire house of Grimnauld Place Number Twelve. The caller happened to be a tall, strict-looking woman of light blonde hair that was, as usual, made into a tight bun which only emphasized the severe looking face that was now displaying deep anger that which flashed across all of her body gestures. She was clothed in rich-looking, velvet green robes that were highlighted with silvery laces placed upon her collar and waist.
'On my way, mother,' replied a young yet already handsome looking child, stumbling down the stairs gracefully. He possessed black hair that swirled around his head like florets of dandelion flowing on strong wind, emphasized by gentle yet attractive facial features and deep, mesmerizing grey eyes that were observing their surroundings with adult like caution. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was about to happen, straightened his clothes and entered the room located on the right of the staircase.
He now found himself in a long, spacious room with no furniture. The extraordinary thing about the room were the walls. The entire room save for the floor was covered in various names, each connected to the next alongside a small picture displaying the person above it. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, a maze of thousands of years, all described in the deepest of details, all in that very room, signed off with the Black coat of arms that was proudly presented in the middle of the ceiling, from which the entire family began. An outstretched wand inside a gloomy looking skull underneath which the Black family motto was displayed: Toujours pur. Always pure. To the Black Family, these words were almost sacred, a guide throughout the entire centuries pure blood mania. For Sirius, it was merely an absurd sign of fanatics that neared towards pathology with each decade.
Clearing his throat, he closed the doors behind him and granted himself a curt bow to his mother. She turned around, nodded approvingly and started walking around him, observing him. 'Are you ready for your departure?' she asked him sharply, stopping behind him.
'No, I'm leaving tomorrow yet I am completely unprepared,' answered Sirius automatically, instantly regretting his comment after receiving a stinging slap on his right cheek.
'Don't get clever with me, boy!' the woman snapped, crossing her arms on her chest and walking up to him, 'Tomorrow will decide whether you are a true Black or not. Don't disgrace our family,'
'That would be extremely unfortunate, wouldn't it, mother?' the boy answered carefully, his face straight.
The woman frowned, unable to work out whether the boy is jeering her or not. She slapped him again, for good measure. She neared her face to his, so close they were only millimeters apart. 'Don't disappoint me. You are a true Black. You are a true pure blood. You are the true heir to our legacy,'
Sirius remained silent, fighting off an urge to snort sarcastically.
The woman examined him for a while longer, her face expressing emotions that were very well known to Sirius. Uncertainty. Fear. Hatred.Yet no love, no, love was never visible in Walburga Black's eyes.
She nodded at him, 'Very well. You are dismissed,' she said, turning around and returning to her job of examining the tapestry. Sirius left his mother to her pure-blood thoughts as he walked out of the room, heading towards the underground kitchen. As he walked, he was closely watched by the heads of the house elves, perfectly arranged in a long row, hanged on both sides of the corridor. Each head displayed no emotions, their eyes empty and emotionless and each one uglier than the other yet still, Sirius somehow always felt unnerved by the sight of them. They reminded him furthermore of his loneliness in this huge house, with no one to ever share his thoughts with.
Sirius reached the stairs and began running down them only to stumble upon a particularly ugly looking house elf with floppy, bat-like ears that hung around his head like two great tents flopping on the wind. The elf bowed to him, murmuring 'Master Sirius', contempt clearly audible in his voice. Sirius did not even bother to look down, he simply walked past him, pushing him aside. Kreacher never really liked him, the house elf being completely obsessed in serving the Black Family, him being the youngest in the generation, with no fear of getting his head chopped off if he would be no longer able to serve.
Sirius entered the kitchen, a large, unfriendly room that sent shivers up his spine. He noticed his father sitting at the far end of the table, a goblet of Firewhisky in one hand and the newest copy of the Daily Prophet in the other. His father was a tall, noble-looking man from who Sirius inherited the thick hair. However, while Sirius let his hair fly lose and let it grow to mad lengths, his father kept his hair fairly short. Upon seeing his eldest son, he grunted as a sign of welcome and continued in his lecture of the Daily Prophet. Sirius sat down at the opposite end of the table and began eating, enjoying the temporary silence that was not to last.
As expected, the peace was disrupted by the entrance of his brother, who walked straight up to father, bowed generously and murmured, 'Always pure,'. His father nodded in a sign of approval and pointed at his right hand side seat, upon which Regulus sat with dignity and casted a long, reproving look at Sirius, 'See big brother, that's how you do it!'
Sirius snorted into his toast upon seeing his brother's usual behavior. He never got quite bored of how his brother attempted to make a show of himself to humiliate Sirius and yet all he had ever done was entertain him. He began thinking excitedly about tomorrow, about his journey to Hogwarts, away from all of this. Most of all, he couldn't wait till the Sorting Ceremony – it was his greatest wish to be sorted into a house other than Slytherin. Honestly, it could even be Hufflepuff. Anything to rebel against his family's foul traditions.
'This man is a hero!' his father exclaimed loudly, commenting on the Daily Prophet. It was not unusual for his father to loudly opinionate himself at the table, attempting to relate every news to being pure blood. It was long since Sirius learnt that all he had to do was nod and say 'Yes, father,' at the appropriate times. This time, his father expanded his comment into a lengthy speech. 'This man is fully aware of the pure blood domination! The less Muggles there are, the better for the whole wizarding world. You know what boys?' (Sirius smiled and exclaimed, 'Yes, father?' as ironically as possible), 'I want both of you to be like this man. We both know that sooner or later, pure bloods will take over the Mudbloods and the whole world. Every Muggle is to be exterminated and wiped off the surface. Surely, you are both very well aware of it,'
'What is the article about, dear father?' Regulus asked, smiling politely while staring at his father with fascination.
'Both of you must've heard about the Dark Lord, do I stand correct?' he asked, glancing at them both expectantly. Sirius nodded. Of course he has heard about him. Lord Voldemort. His parents called him a hero. He called him a cold-blooded murderer.
His father continued, 'Well, an article in the Daily Prophet proclaims five Muggles dead, all victims of the Killing Curse. The animals must've been slaughtered by him, and for good measure! The Ministry suspects him too but thanks to his contacts inside, he will be left untouched. A war is finally coming! The Ministry will fail under his reign!'
He then turned straight to Sirius, stroking his black moustache gently, 'Son, you must use every occasion possible to show your superiority towards the Mudbloods! Show them they are nothing more than pathetic excuses for a wizard!' he concluded, smashing his fist against the table, a flame of anger clearly visible in his eyes.
'Of course, Father,' he assured him, smiling. It was one thing to jeer his mother yet he did not dare to cross his father - he experienced his rage after daring to generalize Pure Bloods and Half Bloods on his own skin. The scars on his back never quite faded.
Their conversation was disrupted by a sudden buzz inside the fireplace located behind Sirius. The flames erupted, changing colours like a chameleon, from the usual, flaming red to a deep shade of emerald green that caused them to rise up into a wall of fire.
From amidst the flames, a young woman emerged. She has long, curled black hair, artfully sprung around her shoulders, clothed in majestic, black robes that highlighted her heavy lidded coal-black eyes that looked down at Sirius with disgust as soon as she stepped out onto the cold stone floor of the Black kitchen.
Orion Black rose up from the chair and stretched his arms out, walking towards the newcomer, 'Bellatrix! What a lovely surprise!' he exclaimed, hugging her upon reaching her.
'Hello, uncle,' she said quietly as soon as she slipped out of his grasp, 'It is truly an honor to see you again,'
Regulus jumped up from the table and bowed to Bellatrix frantically, so hastily that he had almost lost his balance. Sirius started choking on his food with amusement.
'What brings you here?' Orion asked, gesturing her to take an empty seat next to Sirius. Bellatrix gave him a dirty look and added, 'No thank you, uncle, I'll remain standing. I've only arrived for a moment, I'm very busy. I'd like to inform you that Rudolph and I are now married,'
Orion gasped, shocked. It has been a well known, long family tradition for a pure-blood wedding, leading back at least a few centuries.
'My sincere apologies for not announcing it earlier, however there was no time for a wedding. It was quiet ceremony, for we were afraid of capture if we were to make it official,' she said, not a hint of regret upon her face, 'We are now officially husband and wife, I'd like you to inform Walburga too,'
'Of course… Of course,' said Orion, still disappointed by the fact there was no wedding to behold.
Bellatrix nodded curtly and passed Orion, walking over to her cousin.
'Best of luck tomorrow, Black,' she hissed, lowering her head so low to his that Sirius could feel her hair tingling his forehead, 'Don't disappoint us,'
Black never liked Bellatrix, just as he loathed his parents. She was just like them, her head full of pure blood convictions that were in no way to be changed. She stared down at him boastfully, challenging him to look away. He however looked back, the grey eyes meeting the endless black pit eyes of hers. Others would feel intimidated, he just felt bored.
'I wouldn't dare to do that, Madame,' he said, emphasizing the last word with as much hatred as possible, 'I'll do anything to serve the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black,'
Her eyes picked up the jeer yet she remained still. Suddenly, she gazed away, rising up and, after exchanging courtesies with Orion, she walked over to the fireplace, grasped a handful of Floo Powder and was just about to throw it into the hearth when Orion said, 'Give our best regards to the Dark Lord and let him know we fully support his cause,'
Bellatrix turned around, Floo Powder seeping through her fingers, the waterfall of powder falling towards the floor, 'Oh, I most certainly will, Uncle,' she said mysteriously and, upon throwing the powder into the emerald flames, she stepped inside the hearth and disappeared.