UnExpected

Chapter 35

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black...Phineas Nigellus...Elladora ...Cygnus...Orion...Regulus...Bellatrix...Narcissa...

"The Black Family Tree."

Harry turned immediately to the doorway at the sound of Sirius's voice. His gray eyes holding an unrecognizable look as he gazed at the family tapestry. A flurry of emotions passing over his vision. Almost as though they couldn't decide which one to settle on.

"You're not on here," Harry pointed out, as he turned back.

"I used to be," he responded, passing a finger over a small, charred hole that resembled a cigarette burn, "there." Folding his arms over his chest, Sirius raked his eyes over the entire wall. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home – Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?"

"When I was about sixteen," he replied. "I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?"

"Your dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's in the school holidays, and when I was seventeen, I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold – he's been wiped off here, too," he said then indicated to another burn spot, "that's probably why. Anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcomed at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But...why did you...?"

"Leave?" Sirius finished off. His voice and smile bitter. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, were convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal...my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them...that's him." He pointed at the very bottom of the tree, Regulus Black. A date of death, fifteen years prior, followed the date of birth. "He was younger than me, and a much better son. As I was constantly reminded."

"But he died," Harry said.

"Yeah, stupid idiot," Sirius nodded. His voice wobbled undetectably for a second, and just like that, it passed. "He joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!"

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Sirius tersely.

"Were – were your parents Death Eaters as well?" he asked, unbelieving that any member of Sirius's family got themselves involved with Voldemort. Of course, he didn't really know them, and was only going by the way Sirius presented himself. Which definitely did not scream Death Eater.

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things...they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents' thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh, no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort – or on Voldemort's orders, more likely. I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

Sirius stepped closer to the tapestry. His eyes moving slowly over the names. Examining them closely.

"I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellus...my great-great-grandfather, see? ... least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had..." Sirius continued to point out, and note his disdain, of certain family members, until he came across one that surprised Harry.