Severing Ties (Sirius Black one-shot)

The moon shone boldly in the dark, cloudless sky as he trudged back with his shoulders hunched to the place he so desperately loathed, the place where he had been miserable for the past sixteen years. He had always harboured fantasies of leaving this place, to be free for once. Of course, his dark arts loving darling mother made it quite difficult to put that plan into action.

He never really could understand why his family was so besotted with the idea of the Dark side, with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He never could figure out why his family was obsessed with the the purity of blood, and why they followed Voldemort's footsteps and regarded Muggle-Borns as 'filth', and those acquainted with them as 'blood-traitors'. He knew, that in his family's eyes, he was a blood-traitor. He didn't care one bit. In fact, he was rather pleased about it.

Sirius finally reached the front steps of Number Twelve, Grimmauld place and inched in quietly, his gray eyes darting around to check if the coast was clear. He had snuck out of the house earlier on, to visit his favourite cousin Andy and her little baby Nymphadora. Sirius was rather fond of the little baby, and had quietly left the house in the evening to visit them, knowing that his family would never approve. Andromeda Black, or rather, Andromeda Tonks, had been disowned for marrying a Muggle-Born, Ted Tonks. He hoped to follow her footsteps and finally be disowned one day, freeing himself from the people he was related to by blood.

As he moved over to hang his travelling cloak, all hopes of making it to his room without being seen was crumbled into nothingness when he caught sight of his ruddy house elf standing right next to the door.

"Master Sirius has been out late." Kreacher drawled triumphantly whilst rubbing a brass ornament with a filthy rag. He was always ecstatic to get Sirius in trouble, being an insufferable suck-up with Walburga Black. Sirius was sure that Kreacher would sell his life without batting an eye one day.

"Sod off, Kreacher," Sirius growled, shutting the door behind him carefully. The house elf had an immense obsession with the House of Black and had a veritable, almost fanatic love for his mother. He shared Walburga Black's views of how vile and insolent Sirius was, a disgrace to the family name. As for Sirius, he never wanted anything more than to strangle the elf with its own loincloth. It would save him a lot of trouble.

"Oh, what will my dear mistress say?"

Kreacher carried on, obviously enjoying watching Sirius squirm, eager to get him in trouble. Sirius's distaste for the elf grew even stronger as the tiny thing tried to taunt him. He resisted the urge to give the elf a good shake, and said, "Do me a favour and keep your overly large nose out of my business for once. What are you upto anyway?"

"Kreacher is cleaning."

"A likely story," Sirius smirked.

"Oh, Kreacher is honoured to be cleaning and tending to the noble House of Black-"

"-and it's getting blacker and blacker everyday, with you scrubbing everything with that same dirty rag. It's filthy." Sirius shot back.

"Where were you?" called a cold voice from behind Sirius. He whirled around and saw his mother standing there, her beady eyes narrowed to slits.

"Out," Sirius replied indifferently.

"Out where?"

"How's that your business?" Sirius said rudely, preparing himself for the explosion that would inevitably come. And it did.

"You insolent boy!" screeched Walburga Black, her mind unable to comprehend the rudeness of her oldest child. "We feed you meals three times a day, and what do we get in return? You-"

Sirius yawned quietly and looked away. He had learnt to tune out his mother's voice, years of getting yelled at had given him a talent of blocking unwanted sounds, and in this case, her wonderful voice. Of course, his father would also have joined her, but he was off somewhere or the other, Sirius couldn't be bothered to inquire where. He certainly didn't care enough to wonder.