PROMTS: Incarcerous and fury
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vilness!
"Now children, when you go to Hogwarts remember- you are from The Noble and The Most Ancient House of Black. You are worthy. Don't you dare mix with mudbloods and blood-traitors and taint our family name," Walburga Black instructed her sons sternly.
The older, Regulus, looked his mother in the eye and vowed, ''I will Mother. Slytherin house will be proud. ''
The younger, Sirius, snorted.
"Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!"
"Gryfindor!" Walburga shrieked, "Our son; a member of the Black family – in Gryffindor? Unheard of! I knew we should have performed the incarcerous spell on him and bound him to this house! That boy- he is good for nothing."
"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher. She kept herself alive out of pure spite."
Walburga reflected on her own thoughts. In a mad fury, she had just disowned her younger son, Siruis. "Definitely in the best interest for the family," she muttered to herself. "He wants harshness and he'll get harshness."
"Hello, Harry, I see you've met my mother"