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The most ancient and noble House of Black is a different dimension, completely unattached and disconnected from the world. As dramatic as it sounds. The Black is never known for the prosperousness and extravagance they keep hold; nor the amount of reverence and power they have over the Sacred Twenty-eight. If you mention the Black, the only word that will come into your mind is drama. An omnishambles, Gordian, utter confusion. Thrilling, devastating, astonishing.
A tragedy.
At the very beginning, there were five of them.
Bellatrix was the first to be in the land of the living, and the first to be tarnished, to the point where her beauty is all that is left, standing company with the mephistophelian, callousness, and shallow emotions of insanity. The eldest daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Black, the spitting image of Morgan le Fay, in the myth. Dark tangled mane, high cheekbones, sharp features. The Delphic midnight eyes reflect the uproaring madness that soon invaded the righteous of mind, feast upon the messy pandemonium, live up to the inescapable curse running in their bloodline.
She was also the first to leave, after her marriage with Rodolphus Lestrange.
The second daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Black followed not so long after her sister. When the storm came with a sepia hint to the silver-black sky, lightning cracked open upon heaven, as if it already knew the winds and rain it wrought would echo for eternity, marking the birth of Andromeda Black. Predict a downfall of an era, destined to find a new way out, far away from the family legacy.
She had the significant cheekbones and a jawline of Black, sharp, cold, and defined. Still, the softness lingered around the edges, representing the differences between herself and her family. Unconquered curls sprang loose and fluttered elegantly, but unruly, down to her waist. The mixed colour of dark earth and chestnut drooped around pale cheeks, brings out something wild and independent upon the deep grey eyes, locked away all secrets that would reveal the truth of her belief and such.
She was the second one to leave the house, but the first to escape the curse. Andromeda imitated the characteristics of a model her parents raised her to be. She did it so well that no one would ever dare to dream of the day she brought back home a muggle, Ted Tonks, and announced their engagement. He only needs to close his eyes, and the memory of that day will go over the same ground.
It was a family gathering, and you know how horrid the Black family gathering would be. Dimmed light circled only a not-worth-mentioning spot of the round table, leaving pale faces in the lugubrious darkness. Different sounds pierce the silence from various directions, but no images specifically. The clattering sounds of metal against ceramic; gibberish of voices over others, fighting for attention, no specific topic; deep exhales, and gritted teeth from those who just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. The aroma of burned firewood and fresh citronella intertwined, ruled over by the luscious smell of stew, turkeys, and bratwursts. Pots and bowls covered the silk tablecloth, leaving space only for scented candles and serviettes. Walburga and Orion, head of the house of Black, sat straight and proud, facing the entrance door. Next to them, on the right, sat two young boys: one was equanimous, calm, and quiet, while the other wore a bored expression filled with deep hatred but also an annoyance, the true troublesome of a generation, Regulus Black and Sirius Black. On the left, sitting next to the mistress, were Druella and Cygnus Black, eyes cold and sharp, tapping lightly on the wooden surface, counting each ticking sound of the ancient grand clock, waiting impatiently for their second daughter. By that time, the other two daughters, oldest and youngest, serenely finished their dishes.
The sun slowly disappeared out of window sight, giving up the skyline for the gloomy caliginosity of the witching hour. Sirius flickered his eyes through the dusty glass, searching for the luminous moonlight only to find booming exclamations of heaven and lightning. That was when the door creaked open, and a Cimmerian shade formed at the threshold when the golden light poured into the dark room. Andromeda slowly made her way to the table, not breaking eye contact with her mother, head high and still, towering over all others. It was silent for a moment, just staring at each other. When she finally looked away to find Sirius looking at her. Her eyes softened, almost apologetically, and that was when he understood what was about to happen.
“Mother.” She spoke. “I have spent years thinking about this. And now, I have finally made up my mind and decided to choose myself for once. My marriage is not for you to arrange. It is not about you, mother, or our family. It is about me because this is my life where I made choices for my happiness and love. I do care for you, and I have sacrificed all of myself to make you proud. I tried, really, really hard, for you to love me, and for you to accept me for who I am. But despite all of my efforts, what did I get in return? Nothing. Nothing except for getting my feelings discarded into an abandoned corner of a room. Nothing except for having to hide who I am, and what I want and need.”
“Oh? And are you going to cry?” Druella interrupted, coldly staring into the soul of her daughter. She was still sitting, but her gaze only could make any sinewy warrior or tremendous sorcerer shrink back to their shells. “You tried? You dare to stand there and have the audacity to tell me that you tried? After all the disappointment and tainted news you brought back to this home, unacceptable and disgustingly out of control behaviour of a woman. You still bare that face out to say that you tried to make me proud?”
The unsympathetic and disdainful words bound off the walls and evaporated into ashes, but Sirius knew it would never be forgotten, especially for Andromeda. It was cruel, like a dagger striking directly into her heart, deep into the core, getting twisted around and around so that the pain lingered forever.
“No, mother, I am not going to cry,” Andromeda said stubbornly. Unintentionally, her voice cracked but showed no sign of backing away. “And, yes, I have tried. When you set me up with Rosier, I had to hold myself up so that I wouldn't vomit on the spot when he touched me. When you taught me what women meant to be doing, I obeyed like a puppet on a string. I sat straight and silent while men were making salacious and libidinous jokes, only opening my mouth to speak or laugh lightly with them. I stayed quiet, never daring to show my opinion because showing my perspective of things makes me less desirable. I learnt how to walk elegantly and still, not to open my mouth while chewing, to spread my legs if told, and to obey without a second thought. All those years, I was killing my own by doing what I was taught, by trying to be the one you raised me to be. I tried to become the perfect daughter, the pleasuring and offering wife for a man one day. And I-”
She tilted her head up slightly, making the tears that hovered on her eyelids fall back into place. Her face was burning red from aggravation, eyes bright and clear and looking so fragile that she could break any time now. But she refused to appear weak.
“I- I wanted to be loved. I wanted you to love me, mother. Is that too much to ask? I did all of it just for you to look at me. I put myself down so low so that you will care for me. Haven’t I given enough? Haven’t I already given you all of me?”
“You are being childish right now, Andromeda.” Her voice was so vicious and menacing that the room seemed to be quaking. “All of the reasons you stated are unconvincing and ridiculous, to the point it was laughable. You are a disgrace to the bloodline. All of those years I spent training you so one day I will be given something in return, but no, I have raised a pathetic excuse of a human being.”
“Mother-”
“This is not your business, Narcissa. Do not open your mouth when I am speaking.” With a deathly blank stare, the room went still. “You have given me nothing, Andromeda. All of those pitiful excuses for your whorish behaviour. I raised you, so that one day, you will become a fine mistress, serving your husband and raising your kids, continuing the bloodline. That was Moira. And what did you do? You discarded it all away. Holding your dress up, running after a filthy, heinous mudblood.”
“I have enough.” The shout ripped through the empty hallway, so ferocious that could bring a God down to his knees. “I fucking hate all of it, all of what I am supposed to do if I want to be loved. I hate how you manipulated me to the point where I am fucking broken. I hate myself for being so weak, so vulnerable, so fucking pusillanimous. How could I be so stupid? How could I have no respect for myself like that? How could I drown so deep into those disgusting, nauseating prejudices, so fucking lost in trying to prove myself worthy by letting those abominable and nasty hands touch me?”
All the pain and grief burgeoned, intermingled with torment and raging anger, she slammed the wine bottle to the cold stone floor, shattering it into pieces. Red wine meandering effortlessly, carrying away all the deepest darkest secrets in her, now became visible to all witnesses. The glass disintegrated to smithereens, scattering over the stone flooring, sending sharp calamitous flying everywhere. The thunder came as an emotional rollercoaster when twinned with the earthbound lightning. The wind blew through the house with a powerful passion, scattering old documents and banging on the doors, making the atmosphere even more distressful.
“Andromeda Black, you will not speak to your mother like that.” Cygnus stood up, pushing the chair away violently.
“My. Name. Is. Andromeda. Tonks.” Andromeda shouted. Emphasising each word as she spat them out with a taunting vocal. “Yes, you fucking heard me right. It is Tonks. I am engaged to Ted Tonks, father. And you know what the best part is? Let me fucking clarify it for your thick skull. I am engaged to what you called a poor, filthy, no-worth man. How great is that?”
And all that’s left is chaos.
He remembered sitting at the top of the stairs, watching the shadow of his cousin being consumed slowly by the gloomy night. The storm came as the opera of the skies, the grey sky swirl of stoic gravitas becoming the backing of those in hero stride. She did not even turn her back, kept on running without care about what might happen next. And once Cygnus stormed back, furiously throwing his shoes to the corner, Sirius knew that Andromeda had escaped. And he knew that no matter what, she is not coming back. He was sitting there as Regulus slowly approached him, and placed his head on Sirius’ shoulder, seeking for safety. They watched as their parents, second by second, turned the manor into a living hell. One day, they will manage to escape. One day, he will break free. Despite that, even he can not be sure if that one day is just a dream of the most extraordinary verisimilitude.
Narcissa is the youngest and probably the less problematic one. She stays quiet, almost blended into the background, and avoids all troubles. But she still had her way of standing out in a crowd. Talented, beautiful, and popular, no less than her sisters. Her facial structure is a perfect coalescence of vigorousness, elegance, and high spirits, charmed with the firing passion of youth. She is, no doubt, the prettiest of the three. Her blonde curls foam luxuriously, reflecting the honeyed light of the evening sun, lustrous as onyx stone. Her eyes are the dew, scattering the nascent rays, ever illuminating soul, coming as perfect flower buds freshly opened in the early dawn.
With help from an arranged marriage with Malfoy, she was the third one to leave. And knowing her well enough, she will not return to this house without reluctance. How could Sirius blame her? Because if the choice was his, none of them, will ever see him again. No one with a commonsensical mind would choose to stay, if they saw what happened behind the curtains.
Following the same sequence, tonight is the right time for him to run away.
He has thought about running away from home since it hit him that his family is not...normal. It was not pleasant to realise that.
“Sirius, I can not tell if you are joking, but no one would ever do that to a child, let alone being the parents themselves,” James said nervously, with caution in his voice, after Sirius let out a silly joke about his journey of being starved under the kitchen sink.
It was not a good feeling when he figured that none of his friends had ever experienced being locked in a suffocating cupboard because they accidentally spoke too loud. Or none of them had ever been through a series of days not having anything to eat as a punishment for not submitting or addressing their parents the right way. Not to mention, no family, even those purest ones, would use forbidden dark magic and unforgivable curses on their child.
Now that he thinks about it, the fact that his parents are fucking lunatics is so obvious. It makes Sirius appear stupid and naive because everyone with a sane mind can point out that his family is not family but more like some psychopaths that he happens to have their blood running in his veins. But the thing is, Sirius was naive. Really, how could he possibly know that everything was all lies? How was he to know, that all they raised him to believe since he was a weeny little child, to slash open his chest and bury deep into his bones, was a manipulation? He grew up learning that the world functions this way, and that if you wanted to survive, you learned to submit. Never dare to wrong your parents, because the consequence is getting beaten until your mind is closed off, and the only thought remaining is that you will never ever do that again, unless those suicidal jokes weren’t really jokes. Never open your mouth to speak without being spoken to, unless you want to spend the rest of your life with no ability to speak. Never question your parents' decision, especially in marriage, because you are just a puppet on a string ready to be controlled around brainlessly. And because that is his parents, they are his parents, and kids are always told to obey their parents.
When Moses prayed to God for help, God gave him the Ten Commandments, and the fifth commandment is “Honour thy father and thy mother.”
Kids have to respect their parents, not the other way around. Because those are the ones who gave you life, and without them, you would not be here right now (thank you very much). Their job was to give you life, it was never their responsibility to provide you happiness or well-being.
Sirius learned that, in the worst way possible.
And still, he is going to run away.