I was angry. No, I was furious. I stared hard out of the car window, watching the raindrops race to the bottom. Determinedly tuning out my mother's incessant fussing as I watched the familiar bustling of London fade into dreary, silent hills, and fields and woods. There was a loud thrumming in my temple as I took in the bare fields and wooded land, my stomach plummeting by the hour.
"Sirius. Sirius. Look at me boy!". Mother's command was sharp, high-pitched and filled with warning. I tried not to flinch as I slowly turned my gaze from one gruesome sight to another.
Walburga Black was a tall thin woman. Perhaps she was once beautiful but now, as my eyes swept over her face, she looked venomous. Her carefully painted lips were crafted into a thin scowl, her cold grey eyes leering straight into my angry blue ones. There was a permanent wrinkle between her brows from that look of disapproval that she loved so dearly, and under the luminous light of the car, other signs of her age were more pronounced than usual. "How can I help you mummy dearest?" I asked in what I wanted to be a polite and casual tone, but it came out strained, like glace was grating the inside of my throat. Abandoning the attempt at civility in my tone of voice, I engulfed my face in the most pleasant look I could muster, which only amounted to mild disinterest. I wasn't interested in hearing what she had to say, what she'd been saying for the past month since my darling father "The Great Orion Black" had tragically passed. Hearing of how wonderfully well-bread my future school was, or how the connections i made would be great for the family trade, or how perfectly I was expected to behave for the coming year and the rest of my life, or how the future of the Noble House of Black rested on my slender, invaluable shoulders.
Walburga's sharp eyes narrowed and Sirius shuddered ever so slightly, still easily affected by her murderous gaze despite how much I had been convincing myself I wasn't for the past two years. "I will not have you disgracing the name of The Noble House of Black because you believe that you are somehow above it all."
She was so ridiculously predictable that I couldn't help the snort that erupted from my nose. I knew it was coming before she even moved. I could tell from the way her fingers twitched since we'd got into this wretched, glamorous car, from the way she breathed out when I unwittingly caught her or or the way her lips curled over her teeth like fangs when she had to look directly at me. I'd been waiting for her move for the last three hours. In retrospect, she'd held out longer than I'd thought possible. 'Perhaps it was the grief', i reasoned with myself.
In one swift movement, my mother's hand whipped across my face leaving a painful sting and an aggressive red mark on his perfectly pale skin that flashed me with a grin when my head swung right from the impact of her hand. My reflection was almost a perfect mirror of me on the tinted windows. I urged myself not to show the pain and anguish I felt growling in my chest, practically ripping me apart with its effort to come out. Instead, I turned my head slowly back to that woman, slow enough that I could blink away any exposing tears before our eyes met again. But when I was ready to meet her gaze head on with defiance, I found she wasn't looking at me. Mother had already settled back into her seat, sitting delicately, the picture of perfection. Her gaze had shifted a little to the left, the sharpness of her cold eyes was replaced (perhaps not fully replaced but shifted) to something softer, kinder, something that almost resembles love, a love that I hadn't experienced since I'd hit puberty and learned to think for myself.
I followed her gaze already knowing what she was so adoringly ogling at, and then my cool eyes met my brother's identical ones.
He sat there, posture perfect and graceful as a statue. Regulus Black, my darling brother.
Regulus and I were much alike in looks. We were both pale, slender boys with cat-like, blue grey eyes and perfect, wavy, black hair. While my hair was long and falling in his face half the time, Regulus' was short, fluffy and styled perfectly to look neat and tidy. Though we looked almost identical at first glance, the similarities ended with our looks. I pride myself on being free, determined to escape his familial ties at the first chance I get. I always wore a look of loud defiance while my little brother's face was a mask of indifference, and on occasion, reluctant amusement.
When we were young we were inseparable. Regulus was like a little sheep following me around, speaking how I spoke, dressing how I dressed, acting how I acted, but when he was around twelve things changed. He started believing in and practising the Black's bigoted family values. When I drifted away from our parents, they grew closer. Regulus willingly learned the Black family secrets while they were forced upon me. He was eager to prove himself worthy of the Black family name where I was eager to be rid of it.
At first I could stand it all. I could ignore my baby brother parroting our father. I could imagine that he still loved dressing up and playing with our cousins dolls anc causing mischief that the servants had a hard time keeping track of but eventually, he grew cold and tired of being young. He became a mirror of our father in my eyes and that made it almost impossible to look into his. Which is why, as our eyes met in the consuming silence of the car, after mother just slapped me silly, I was grateful when he looked away. But for a moment I saw the thoughts behind those guarded grey eyes of "it's your fault". It would have been better if he'd screamed the words that we both knew he was thinking. I don't know why I thought he'd say something against it, or even smaller than that, show that he cared, that he didn't enjoy seeing me hurt. I glanced back up at his stony face but he looked like he was already engrossed in the pages of his book. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away to lean my cheek against the window, which helped to numb the pain a little. If only it could numb my thoughts I silently wished when I cursed myself for foolishly thinking that Regulus cared about me at all anymore. The longing I felt for my little brother drove me mad and I stupidly riled myself up, trying to dismiss the all too familiar feeling. I could feel the rage that I'd tried to keep bottled up for at least the car journey, rise to the surface and gurgle in my chest.
I tried practising the breathing exercises that my therapist, Mrs Euphemia Potter, had recommended to me (My amazing and disowned uncle Alphard had put me in contact with a secret therapist who I spoke to every now and then over the phone).
Breathe In- one two three four- breathe out- one two three four. My eyes were still closed as I breathed in and out deeply, trying to overthrow the rage bubbling over.
"What a disgrace for a son. Can't even breathe without making a fiasco out of it" My mother's cold voice filled the car. I opened one eye. Her fingers gently grazed Regulus' cheek and she looked at him fondly. "If only you were the oldest Regulus. Or better yet an only child, my poor Orion must be rolling in his grave at the sight of that one". She nodded her head towards me but didn't even bother looking in my direction. My other eye snapped open.
"Turn the radio on Bill!" I hollered loud enough to make the driver swerve a bit. Bill looked at me annoyed through the rear view mirror but I just grinned cheekily back when I met his ageing brown eyes. Bill had been the Blacks' private driver for as long as I could remember and I knew that he wasn't truly mad at me. He was obviously concerned though as his eyes flickered to my mother whose pale skin had paled further.
"Sirius." She said warningly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her fingers twitch again. I grinned at her and tried not to cackle as her steady gaze turned even more furious at my defiance. I turn to Bill and acknowledge him although my words are directed at my mother. "I just feel that if im such a disappointment of a son i should live up to those expectations' ' Bill pursed his lips but said nothing and made no move to turn on the radio. '' 'salright Billy boy,'' He hates when I call him that but I'm beyond caring, " I get it, mother's in one of her foul moods again, I'll turn it up myself, save you from facing her wrath!" and with that i climbed through the back seating area (it was too large and fine to just be considered the back seat) and attempted to reach over to the front and switch on the radio. Before I could reach there however, I felt the tail of my tailored blazer being yanked hard and I fell back into my seat with a thump. I know this is my mother's doing so I ignore the gesture and try to get up again. This time she picks up her thin, black cane and shoves it against my chest, pushing me firmly back into my seat and knocking a little wind out of me. I stare into her cold grey defiantly and try to struggle out of the firm hold the cane had on my chest. The tip of it was capped with silver and biting into my skin through my crisp white shirt. I ground my teeth to step from crying out and instead try and make my tone light and unbothered as I speak. "What's the problem mother? If you don't mind i'd like to drown out you bitching about me to my little brother with something actually worth liste- ahh"
I cry out in pain as she takes the can from pointing at my chest and whacks me firmly with it instead. Tears fill my eyes uncontrollably but I blink them away. I look back up at her calm and collected expression. She looked as if this was a normal family road trip and like she didn't just hit me with a thick cane. The anger that I felt was unparalleled. How could she be so casual? I open my mouth to voice my thoughts when I'm hot again, this time along my knuckles that were clutching the part of my chest that was hit previously. I instinctively drop my hands to my lap and cry out. My mouth was now firmly closed as I fought with all my will against the tears that automatically filled my eyes from the sharp sting. The pain in my chest was slowly dulling to a drawn out ache so I focused on burning my burning fingers which were already starting to bruise. I'm looking anywhere but at my mother who I knew had settled back comfortably, triumphantly in her seat. In my attempt to avoid her gaze I meet him. For a fleeting moment I imagined that Regulus looked distressed for me, but in the blink of an eye, he was composed again. Instead of looking at me he was reading his book once more and the pain in my chest seemed to double until he opened his mouth. "Mother, I think that's perhaps enough. We don't want to turn up to Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella's manor looking… dishevelled". His voice was cool and almost uninterested as his eyes didn't even flicker from his book towards either me or mother but when I looked up at her to gauge her reaction to Regulus' words, I found her lowering her cane as if she would have struck again if Regulus hadn't spoken. "Very wise Regulus, we wouldn't want to portray ourselves in a bad way in front of our generous hosts". To anyone else, mothers voice would sound calm and reasonable but I could hear the prickle of regret sliding between her words. Regulus nodded once without looking up, then his eyes clouded over and I could tell he was lost in his story once more.
The rest of the car ride was silent besides my slightly ragged breathing. Since Bill still hadn't turned on the radio, I silently padded my fingers on my thighs to a made up beat. It was calming, Mrs Potter had also suggested this when she learned of my love of music. She says that it'll keep my focus on something good in bad times. I roll my eyes at the memory of her words whispered comfortingly over the phone one night when things at home were particularly bad.
I remember it was pouring down in London. I sat at the dinner table with mother, father and Regulus, eating in silence while the servants milled about the dining hall, offering us refills on food and drink. I was bored out of my mind as I usually was at dinner. Every night. 7 pm sharp. That night was like every other, father had spoken briefly to a keen Regulus about his most recent case or whatnot, while mother preened over at her youngest son. It was known that I was disinterested and unwilling to participate so I was virtually left alone, apart from a few dirty looks thrown my way by my family. I sat with my head down and chewed on the rich food until a new young maid had caught my eye. Her uniform was cut close to her waist and her long, dirty blonde hair would have been enticing to anyone excited. I wasn't particularly attracted to her myself, but the opportunity to piss off my parents was far too enticing to pass up.
I called her over and displayed my best grin that I had recently discovered accentuated the sharp features of my face making them more appealing.
"Another drink please darling," I crooned, confidently tapping my glass. She sauntered over and giggled at my obvious attempt at flirting, but fifteen year old me was unashamed and I could already tell I had garnered my family's attention.
"Sirius," My mother hissed, throwing me a warning glance which I diligently ignored. Instead I focused on the bubbling liquid that was steadily filling my glass, the same colour as the pretty maid's silky hair. I grinned up at her and winked, "A little more please doll, I can't take their company sober!" I was impressed with how smooth my voice was and I ran my tongue over my teeth as my smile reflected hers.
There was a loud scraping sound as my father's chair grated against the mahogany floor. Even though I was at the opposite end of the long table from him, he was looming over me in a few strides. His groomed black beard and moustache, streaked with grey twitched under his heavy breathing, I similarly twitched under his dangerous, icy glare. The waitress quickly backed away and fled from the hall and I never saw her again.
"Do not embarrass me again." My fathers voice was loud and frightening and I buckled from the pressure of trying to keep my chin up. All the bravo wooshed out of me in a second and I deflated, cowering in the too large chair. "Father I- '' I whimpered but I was cut off with a loud bellow. " DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK?!" he screamed. The great Orion Black was known for his confidence, his smooth talking and his business cunning. Little knew of his short temple and even fewer were the cause of it being set off.I had the pleasure of taking the spot of number one nuisance on my fathers list. I flinched violently at his yell, my hair practically blowing out of my face from the force of his voice. I couldn't stop the tears that spilled down my cheeks. "And now you're crying like a bitch." My fathers voice was low, he was bent down so we could see eye to eye. "Get out of my sight before I truly give you a reason to cry, you pathetic, worthless child."
I slowly rose to my feet, despite my distress, my legs were steady and I turned away from my father proudly. My eyes met Regulus' and he stared back at me, full of pity and that sent me over the edge. I turned back to my father, my chest puffed out.
"If I'm such a burden, maybe I should just leave. Let you raise Regulus to be the Black heir" My voice was low and shaky but I could tell my father understood. He strode over to me and I instinctively flinched. He grabbed my hair right at the roots and yanked my head back, his face an angry snarl. "I think we'd all prefer that Sirius." He said coolly, but a few specks of spit landed on my cheeks. I reached up to wipe them away when he yanked my head harder causing me to cry out. "Why are you crying Sirius!" He roared, he was pulling on my hair so hard I was practically raised to my tip toes. I gripped his wrist hard in an attempt to get free but that just made him cackle. "You think you're a big man Sirius Orion Black!?" he cackled. I was angry. No, I was furious. I didn't think, I wasn't too great at thinking anyway. My mouth filled with salty saliva and bile, then I spit it at my fathers face. He immediately dropped me and I crumbled to the ground and covered my head as the chaos ensued. For the longest second everything was silent. There was no movement. I don't even think anyone dared take a breath. All that was audible was the steady, insistent thrumming of rain against the windows which even that was dulled by the double glazed windows.
And then everything was thunder. I felt something come down hard on my ribs. My fathers foot. And I yelped pathetically as I curled further into myself. "I'm sorry!" I whimpered.
I was dragged back up to my feet when a heavy fist met my jaw and I stumbled back, clutching where his fist met my skin and bent my head as the ground whirled and tipped. "Orion darling, I think that's enough," My mother pleaded. Well in her own way it was pleading, although her voice was as cool and collected as if she just witnessed a childish tantrum. My father whirled on her, raised his arm and swung. My mother's head snapped back. After a moment she looked back towards me and my father, her eyes darting between us then she silently left the room, but not before throwing one more hateful glance at me as if it was all my fault. And then it hit me; it was all my fault. I hung my head and blinked away tears yet again.
"Get out." My father composed once more. I looked up at him, his features were blurred between watery eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out. "Get out." He repeated firmly, stepping aside, making room for me to leave. That's when I heard his voice, slightly husky from being in the midst of puberty, but still soft as I remembered from years ago. "Father. You can't cast him out. He is your heir. How will you explain this to the investors, the papers, everyone watching you." Regulus said calmly. He was still perched in his seat at the dining table. He looked tranquil apart from an almost hidden desperate look in his eyes. I wondered for a moment why he looked so scared but quickly concluded that he felt bad for the blow that mother received. Another pang of guilt ricocheted through my chest.
I watched my father mull this over for a long while before he finally came to a conclusion. I could tell because his shoulders set and his eyes clouded over. "Leave and I don't want to see you again until you're ready to bed to come back.'' Then he turned and strode towards the grand double doors of the dining hall. Just before he stepped out he said proudly "Toujours Pur", the Black family motto (Always Pure) and then he was gone. As soon as he'd left my body relaxed and sunk back to the ground, resting my head on my knees for a long while. When I finally looked up again I expected to be alone but my eyes met Regulus'. He was still sitting in his chair staring intently at me. His study of my broken form was accusing and I was immediately defensive. I was on my feet in a flash.
"You don't know what it's like." I mutter. One of his perfectly carved, black eyebrows rose at that. "Don't I?" his voice was tired and suddenly my little brother seemed so old.
"They adore you Reggie." I mutter, staring intently at my little brother, accusing him of being a traitor right back. He seemed to mull that over for a little while before he said "Well, I try to be the son that they want. That they need. You…don't." I snorted at that, stating the obvious. "Did you really need to do that Sirius?" His voice was soft and that made me angry too. I don't answer, instead I turn my head a little so I could look over his shoulder rather than at him. After a lifetime of pause he speaks again. His tone is businesslike. "It's Regulus not Reggie." and with that, he swiftly exited the room. I stared at his empty chair for a long time before I quietly padded out of the gloomy room.
I fled the house that night, the first time I'd ever planned to run away without Regulus. I had no plan, no money, no friends and nowhere to go. I had the number to the therapist that my Uncle Alphard had left me all those months ago when he'd been disowned for his new lover Gideon Prewett. Homosexuality was as frowned up as being poor in my family and Gideon happened to be both.
I didn't know why I'd kept the number on me at all times but at that moment I had nothing left to lose. I found a phone box and managed to charm a few pence from a group of burley men crowding outside a pub. One also slipped a cigarette into the front pocket of my drenched shirt saying it looked like I needed it more than him. I tried not to take offence to that as I took in his dishevelled and over-worked appearance, with his eye bags and balding heads. I wondered briefly what I must look like but thought it better that I didn't know.
It was late and as the phone began to ring for more than a few seconds, I assumed that Mrs Potter wouldn't answer. Just as I was about to hang up and trudge back through the rain back to 12 Grimmuld place when the phone crackled against my ear and the soothing voice of a kind woman filled the phone booth. "Hello?" her voice was so soft, it was like from that simple common phrase she'd pulled me into a hug from through the speaker of the phone.
I swallowed every instinct telling me to put the phone down and spoke. She listened quietly as I told her about my childhood and about how angry I was with myself. She didn't interrupt when I told her of the night's events, nor did she speak when I started crying, apart from making a few cooing sounds. At one point a husky voice over-shadowed mine followed by a catchy song (which I later found out was the work of David Bowie: Diamond Dogs). It sounded like a boy around my age. "Mata, are you coming back to join us?" The voice asked. His voice was filled with quiet adoration and I couldn't blame him. "Give me a moment James." She replied quietly. "Alright , love you mama" The boy said quietly.
"Love you too sweet beta," Mrs Potter told the boy. It was only then that I picked up on her slight Indian accent.
When she spoke again I could tell it was to me because her voice went back to soothing. We talked for around 45 minutes after that, where she gave me advice on how to handle my situation. She strongly advised me to get into contact with Social Services which I tried not to show my distaste for. Social Services was very new to Britain and I hadn't heard anything good about the organisation that rips children away from their families.
She also taught me some ways to cope with my anger and keep my emotions in check to make living with my family easier if that's what I chose to do. We said goodbye after I promised to keep in touch and she assured me that her services were free of charge. I could tell she really didn't want to let me go, but at that point there wasn't much she could do, physically anyway.
I went home a few hours later after taking a long walk around London in the rain. I grovelled on my knees in front of my parents and Regulus to be allowed back into the home and I apologised profusely for my inappropriate behaviour. Since that night I kept in contact with Mrs Potter as regularly as I could, even if it was just a quick catch-up and she'd become a really important part of my life.