“You’re just like your family. And I can’t believe I was naive not to see it until now.”
Remus’s words echoed in Sirius’s head as he boarded off the Hogwarts Express train, struggling to pull his trunk with him.
But he was right — Sirius was just like his family. He was just like his mother.
He had the same facial structure as her. He had the same hair as her. He had the same nose as hers. He had the same eyes as her. Worst of all, he had the same issues as her.
Both were just as bitter, just as proud, just as sick as each other and more. Both were neglected by the House of Black, and one couldn’t break the cycle of abuse because of the manipulatuon she received from her husband.
Sirius was afraid the same would happen to him too.
That he would be manipulated into becoming a cold, heartless person who had no mercy for whoever stood the same ground as he did.
In reality, he never really knew his mother at all.
For Walburga Black was once just as kind and just as loyal as he was. She married Orion thinking that she would be the perfect wife — the perfect mother to his heirs. Oh, was she proved wrong when she saw Orion’s true self.
It was her who was subjected to the same kind of abuse Sirius received now — all for what? Because she had a heart? Because she tried to stop the cycle of generation trauma? Oh… if only the Blacks weren’t merciless.
If only Walburga Black was able to take her children and run before it was too late.
✮⋆˙
“Is this how you represent this family, you fool?” Orion sneered as he kicked the heir’s back with his cane. “Filthy? Dishonorable? Weak ?”
Sirius groaned in pain, trying to crawl away from his father’s reach, but was unsuccessful as he felt Orion’s grip on his shoulder, throwing him back to where he was before.
Then Orion’s cane cracked against his ribs. Sirius gasped as pain erupted through his side, clutching his torso. “I didn’t raise you to be like this. I didn’t raise you to become this insolent brat who thinks he could defy the rules of this household.”
Sirius coughed, blood staining his lips as he tried to push himself up, trembling under his father's harsh gaze. The words Orion spat at him were laced with disgust, each one more cutting than the last. It was as if every moment of Sirius’s defiance, every act of rebellion, was a personal affront to Orion’s sense of control.
“You’ve always been a disappointment,” Orion snarled, leaning over him, his cold, cruel eyes reflecting years of disdain. “You think you’re better than us? That you can just walk away from the family legacy?”
He scoffed, pacing in front of Sirius like a predator toying with its prey. “You’re nothing but a stain on this bloodline. A failure.”
Sirius’s breath was shallow, each inhale sending sharp waves of pain through his chest. He barely noticed the wetness pooling in his eyes as he glared up at his father, refusing to let him see any sign of weakness. He’d fought too hard to let Orion see him broken.
“You’re wrong,” Sirius managed, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not a part of this family. I never was.”
Orion’s laugh was hollow, cruel. “You think you can just discard your blood, your heritage? You’ll always be a Black, Sirius. No matter how hard you fight it.”
He raised his wand at Sirius, and then — “Crucio.”
Sirius barely had time to brace himself before the pain hit.
It wasn’t like the bruises or the broken bones. This was deeper, rawer — fire tearing through his veins, setting every nerve alight with agony. The world blurred, his own voice a distant echo of a scream he hadn’t meant to let out.
It felt like eternity.
He convulsed in pain as he rolled around, trying to ease the pain of the curse. It felt like a thousand white-hot knives were pressed throughout his body — only it came from the inside.
He begged for it to stop, screaming and crying. His father only laughed in response.
And then, suddenly — nothing.
Sirius collapsed onto the cold stone floor, gasping for air, his body shaking uncontrollably. The pain—the relentless, excruciating pain—faded away, but the echoes of it lingered, searing into every part of him. He could hardly make sense of where he was, his vision still blurred, his body trembling from the aftermath of the curse.
His breath was ragged, every inhalation sharp and painful. He felt as though the air itself was fighting him, resisting the simple act of breathing.
Through the haze of agony, he could hear his father’s mocking laughter. Orion stood over him, looming like a shadow, the flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched his son writhe on the floor.
“You see?” Orion sneered, his voice cold, venomous. “This is what happens when you forget your place. You want to defy me? To shame the family? This is your punishment.”
Sirius couldn’t answer him, couldn't even lift his head to look at him. His mind was a swirling mess of pain and confusion. He wanted to scream, to tell his father that he didn’t care — that he didn’t need this family, didn't want this life. But his body refused to cooperate, his words choked by the rawness in his throat.
Walburga, who was stood by the doorway, didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She simply watched as her husband continued to tower over their son, his wand still held in a menacing grip. Sirius didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse that she wasn’t stopping him, but in that moment, he didn’t have the strength to care.
All he could do was lie there, broken and shivering, his body trembling not only from the curse but from the unbearable weight of the years of neglect, of cruelty, of indifference.
His mother was there, and yet, she did nothing.
And that was the part that broke him the most.
✮⋆˙
It was mere hours later when he felt something cold pour over his wounds, and he instinctively flinched, moving away from the source.
“Shh, you’re fine.”
The voice wasn’t devoid of the coldness he was used to hearing. No. The voice was calm. The voice was soft. Slowly but surely, Sirius began to relax as whoever it was continued to heal his injuries.
And then — a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Sirius.”
He was too tired to open his eyes. It was as though he has been trampled by hundreds of Hippogriffs.
Two arms helped him up and out of his bed — “Wait — where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe. Regulus is waiting for you by the fireplace.”
He finally opened his eyes, and in front of him was his eyes. His nose. His hair. His facial structure. His mother.
“W-what?” Sirius started, looking around as he tried to squirm out of her grip. “W-where are you taking us? What are you doing? Father — Father will find out.”
She could only shake her head as she led him quietly to the cellar downstairs, where Regulus was awaiting them with two trunks and a cloak draped over him. “He won’t. He left to France a few hours ago.”
He looked around the cellar for any traps — anything that meant that they were to be locked up and punished. There were none. And then he looked back at her eyes, looking for any signs of hesitation — any signs of a lie. He found none.
“I can’t go back to James’s house. I can’t. You’re not taking me there.” Sirius shook his head as he realized where she was taking them. “I hurt all of my friends — if I can even call them that. Now, I must face the harsh reality that they don’t want to see me anymore.”
“If he was your friend, Sirius — if he truly cared about you, he would forget all of which you did that hurt him.” Walburga whispered, brushing her son’s hair back before draping a thick, black cloak on him too.
Regulus helped take over as he put Sirius’s arm on his shoulder, hoisting him upwards.
“Why aren’t you leaving too?”
“Because it’s my priority to make sure that you’re safe first. I’ve lived with your father for seventeen years — I think I can handle a few more.”
Regulus grabbed a handful of Floo powder as he helped Sirius into the fireplace, before stepping in as well.
“Stay safe, children. I’ll see you soon.”
“Potter Manor.”
✮⋆˙
As soon as they landed in the grand sitting room of Potter Manor, Sirius barely had time to register the warmth of the fireplace before his legs gave out.
His body crumpled beneath him, exhaustion dragging him under like an unforgiving tide. Regulus barely managed to catch him before he hit the floor, struggling under his brother’s dead weight.
“Sirius — Sirius, stay with me —”
But Sirius could barely hear him. His vision blurred at the edges, the world spinning wildly. The last thing he saw was the blurred outline of a figure rushing toward them — James.
Then, nothing.
✮⋆˙
When Sirius woke up, he was warm.
Not the suffocating warmth of Grimmauld Place, where the firelight did nothing to melt the coldness in the air, but a different warmth—something softer. Safer.
It was dark, but the scent of fresh sheets and something familiar filled his senses. His mind felt sluggish, like he was wading through fog. His body ached, a dull pain thrumming under his skin, but it was nothing compared to the agony of before.
Then, a voice — low, careful.
“Sirius?”
He knew that voice.
His breath hitched, eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light of the room.
James sat at his bedside, his brows furrowed in concern, his glasses slightly askew as if he had run a hand through his hair too many times.
“James.” Sirius croaked, his throat raw.
James exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You absolute idiot,” he muttered. “You scared the hell out of us.”
Sirius tried to smirk, but even that took too much energy. His lips barely twitched before his body betrayed him, sagging deeper into the pillows.
James ran a hand through his hair. “Regulus told us what happened.”
At the mention of his brother, Sirius shifted slightly, glancing around. “Where —?”
“Asleep.” James reassured him. “Haven’t left your side since you got here. Mum forced him to get some rest.”
Sirius closed his eyes for a moment. He could still feel the echoes of Orion’s curse, the weight of Walburga’s final words before they left. He had spent years believing she didn’t care — believing she had chosen to let him suffer.
But she had saved him.
And now, here he was, in Potter Manor, surrounded by people who had always offered him a home.
James leaned forward slightly. “You’re safe now, Pads. You hear me? You’re safe.”
Sirius let out a shaky breath.
Safe.
For the first time in his life, he almost believed it.