The Lengths To Which Parents Will Go

The majority of Grimmauld Place was dank and dark and completely void of any primary colours. Orion Black's study was no exception. The man wasn't present now, being out somewhere on some urgent business matter or other, and so it was Walburga pacing the room instead. She had been doing so for rather a long time now, and Sirius' mind was wandering.

He ran his eyes over the wall-length bookshelves that covered the right side of the room. The shelves themselves were a dark wood, possibly mahogany, and groaned under the weight of the heavy, leather-bound books. They were all old and faded, and had a distinct aura of wickedness about them. He had opened one once, as a child, and it had screamed at him. He had avoided the study as often as possible since.

Walburga finally stopped, squarely in front of Sirius, back ramrod straight, and folded her arms across her chest. She raised her chin a ridiculous amount, apparently to increase the amount of nose she had to look down at him with.

He was slouched right down in a particularly uncomfortable chair, feet crossed at the ankle, arms dangling off the edge of the wooden frame, head carelessly lolling to one side. He didn't meet her eyes, and she cleared her throat loudly.

He raised his eyes slowly, knowing he shouldn't antagonise her, but not being able to stop himself. He met the slate eyes, so like his own, and raised an insolent eyebrow.

She struck him across the face, hard and fast.

He blinked. His cheek buzzed with the sensation, his eyes stinging. He looked back up at her, mouth opened to speak, and she slapped him again. This time, he bit his lip, hard. He blinked again, dazed, slowly licking away the blood.

When he raised his head again, she grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the room. Off-footed and unsuspecting, he had no choice but to be pulled along the corridor. Her heeled shoes clattered on the floor, despite the carpet, as she stomped towards the stairs. She shoved him heavily to the floor beneath the grotesque row of house elf heads, and drew her wand.

' Up,' she said, voice even but venomous.

He jumped to his feet, ribs aching and his face stinging, hands balled into fists as he glared at her impassive face with as much loathing as he could. She gave him a warning look, and twitched her wand threateningly. He narrowed his eyes, but obeyed.

She directed him to the drawing room, where she knocked him backwards into yet another uncomfortable chair. His spine collided painfully with the wood, and he swore. While he was distracted, she flicked her wand again and he felt himself pressed firmly back into the seat, like someone was sitting on top of him. He tensed his arms, but he couldn't move them.

Sirius, still struggling against the spell, looked up at the woman he despised. She was stood proudly, her hand on her hip in a display of casual elegance that was wasted on such a harpy.

' Kreacher,' she called, snapping her fingers.

The house elf apparated and bowed low to Walburga's feet, his bulbous nose brushing the floor and his ears flopping about. Without lifting his head, he held out his arm and a small vial of water, and croaked, ' As Mistress requested.'

' Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all.'

The elf glared at Sirius curiously, with a strange sort of disappointment in his huge eyes, before he nodded and returned to the kitchens. Walburga opened the vial with a little pop, and grabbed Sirius' face with her cold fingers. Her nails dug into the flesh of his neck and cheeks, catching the swollen red imprint of her hand. He gasped in pain, and she didn't hesitate in pouring the water into his mouth and clamping his jaw shut again. She pinched his nose until he swallowed.

After a few seconds, he felt very light-headed. It was like floating backwards in his own mind, and watching his body act of it's own accord. He could feel his jaw go slack, his eyes lose focus, but he couldn't do anything about it. He noticed she had seated him directly facing the Family Tree Tapestry, and fleetingly wondered where this was going.

' Now,' she said, quietly. ' The names of your friends.'

' James Potter,' his voice said, without him telling it to. It sounded dreamy. ' Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin.'

' Don't you know any girls?'

' Dorcas Meadows. Lily Evans, but she much doesn't like me.'

Oh, God. It was like verbal vomit, he couldn't stop himself. He should've realised before. Idiot. Mixed with the water, Veritaserum.

' What are their blood-statuses?' She whispered, nastily, grabbing his face again with her nails.

' James is pureblood. Peter and Remus are half.'

' And the others?'

No! No, don't you even think about it! he shouted at himself, willed himself not to talk.

' I don't know about Dorcas, but with a name like that she's probably got wizarding relatives in there somewhere. Evans is muggleborn.'

Her eyes glinted dangerously, and he was reminded for a moment just how mad his mother was at times. She hissed her disgust, her once beautiful face twisting into that familiar sneer, but she didn't shout. She hadn't asked what she wanted to yet, she had to stay focused.

' You've kissed them?' she said, like it was the most repulsive act she could fathom, making it a question so he had to answer.

' Yes.'

' Which?'

' All of them.'

She looked momentarily taken aback, and blinked a few times. Obviously not the answer she was expecting and, when Sirius thought abut it, it really did sound worse than it was. Ninety percent of those kisses had been a joke, or over-enthusiastic spur-of-the-moment friendly affection. But because she didn't ask, he couldn't explain.

' Boys?' she bit out.

' Yes.'

She paused again, eyes blazing. She was visibly struggling to contain her rage. She was swallowing a lot, and he hoped the bile in her throat burned her vocal chords clean away. She wasn't focusing now, and he felt the spell binding his arms easing even as his regained control of his own body.

Finally she shook her head and muttered, more to herself, ' Do you deliberately defy me at every possible occasion?'

' Yeah,' he answered, regardless.

Her eyes snapped back to his, furious, and the glance was enough to realise the effects of the potion had worn off. Most notably because he was glaring up at her again.

' You insolent little -'

She made to strike him again, but he was ready for it this time and caught her wrist. She made a small surprised sound, obviously not realising she had forgotten to maintain the binding hex. He tightened his grip on her arm.

' Do. Not. Hit me. Again.'

Sirius warned, taking her preferred tack and punctuating each word slowly and dangerously. He was angry now, and indignant. He had never expected much from his family, and he was used to the regular beatings and scathing remarks while he was here for the summer. But force feeding him potions was a new low.

And, he couldn't help but wonder, if they were willing to sink to truth potions, how much further would they go to control him? They certainly weren't against dark magic, would they hesitate to use the Imperious Curse on their own flesh and blood?

Probably not, came the resounding, undoubting answer.

He threw the arm he was holding back at the banshee it belonged to, suddenly disgusted he had touched it at all. She rubbed her sore wrist, madness rising in her eyes.

' I will not have the men of this family - The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black - cavorting about with other boys!' She hissed through her teeth.

' Not your dear brother then,' he ground out.

' Alphard,' she spat, ' is dangerously close to going the same way as your cousin.'

She waved a finger threateningly at the burnt hold in the Tapestry, right between Bellatrix and Narcissa. Andromeda had the right idea, Sirius thought. Getting out as quickly as she could.

' And you will be, unless you start listening to me…'

' No,' he shouted, not letting her go on, ' You listen to me, for once, you incessant old hag! I will do what makes me happy, not what you tell me to do! I am not a Slytherin! I am not a Dark Wizard! And I am most certainly not going to choose my friends based on their blood purity! I can do what I want. And who, for that matter.'

' You can do no such thing!' She screeched, voice rising as she spoke. ' You, disgraced as you are, are the Heir to this Noble family! You will get married to a nice Pureblood girl, and you will continue our Ancient bloodline.'

' You what?' he said, startled by this declaration.

' I can ignore that you choose to speak like a common Muggle,' she said, not quite shouting now. ' I can overlook your sorting. I can even forgive your desperately misguided selection of appropriate company. The only thing we require of you is continuity for our esteemed family name.'

He stared at her for a minute, utterly lost for words. He had always known that's why they hadn't disowned him and put him out on the street the moment he had been declared a Gryffindor. But it had never been spoken aloud before.

He took a breath, put on his best look of disinterest and spoke in a calm, steady tone.

' No.'

' What did you say?' she screamed.

' I said no.'

Before he realised she was moving, she had stunned him. With several spells, judging by the exploding pain in his chest. His vision blurred with shock and pain and sudden movement, as he felt himself being dragged again. He was thrown into a room, the door slamming shut.

' Well just see what your Father has to say about this!' she was bellowing in the hall, followed by the usual rant about mud-bloods and half-bloods and blood traitors.

He touched a tentative hand to his bruised ribs, swallowing hard.

He knew exactly what he Father would have to say.

Here we are, another chapter.

I did warn you it wouldn't be very nice.

I decided to go with a sort of Old-fashioned-Royal-Family attitude to homosexuality. Which is to say, 'we don't care who you fancy, as long as you make babies and continue the bloodline'.

I also didn't want to make Walburga completely raving mad just yet. I figure the hints have got to be there, that sick little glint in her eye and the knack for sadism. But I don't think she completely lost it until 1979, the year Regulus and Orion died.

Thank you once again to everyone reading, and especially so to those reviewing. It really does make my day, thank you and enjoy. Danke! Merci! Tak!