At Grimmauld Place, the Black family was gathered in the grand, dimly-lit parlor, as though awaiting some grand spectacle. Walburga Black stood at the center, tall and imposing, her long black hair cascading down her back, her piercing grey eyes fixed on her eldest son. Sirius, the subject of her ire, stood with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. He was as handsome as ever—shoulder-length black hair, matching his mother’s, and those same piercing grey eyes. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking utterly uninterested.
At the back of the room, Regulus, the same black hair and grey eyes as Sirius, but without the reckless charm, watched with folded arms. Beside him were Orion, Sirius' stern father; Alphard, their wry uncle; Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda—his various cousins, each with their own level of amusement and disdain—and the rest of the pureblood elite: Lucius, looking every bit as smug as he usually did; his father, Abraxas, watching as if it were a casual play; and Druella and Cygnus, quietly observing.
Walburga’s voice, sharp and commanding, sliced through the air like a well-aimed hex. “You are *grounded*, Sirius. You will not leave your room for the rest of the week!”
Sirius smirked, clearly unbothered. “Perfect,” he drawled, flipping his hair out of his eyes. “I could use the peace and quiet. The company here is a bit dull.”
Walburga’s eye twitched, but she pressed on. “You will not be allowed to touch your broomstick either.”
Sirius shrugged. “Who needs flying? I’ve done enough for a lifetime.”
“No more trips to Hogsmeade.”
He yawned. “Not like I was planning on it.”
The room was dead silent except for the occasional giggle from Bellatrix, clearly enjoying the show. Narcissa nudged Lucius, and even Regulus couldn’t help but smirk at his brother’s attitude. Sirius was clearly winning this battle.
Walburga was not one to be outdone, though. She narrowed her eyes. “No Floo Powder.”
Sirius blinked, momentarily confused, but then snorted, still playing it cool. “I’m fine. I can Apparate.”
Walburga clenched her jaw. “No *music*, no *parties*, no *friends*—”
Sirius was barely listening at this point, his smirk widening with each restriction. Nothing she said was bothering him. He leaned back even further, arms still folded, his eyes half-lidded as though he were barely awake. He was just about to say something snarky when Walburga paused, inhaled deeply, and delivered her final blow.
“And no James.”
Sirius’ eyes flew open, his smirk vanishing in an instant. “Wait. What?”
“No. James.”
The color drained from his face. His usually impeccable composure faltered. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to process the horrific words that had just escaped his mother’s mouth. “NO JAMES?” he repeated, his voice rising in panic.
Walburga’s lips curved into a cold, victorious smile. “That’s right. No James Potter. You will not see him, speak to him, or even think about him while you’re grounded.”
The entire room watched as Sirius, who moments ago had looked like the embodiment of arrogance and rebellion, began to unravel. He straightened up, uncrossing his arms. His fingers twitched nervously.
“You can’t… you can’t do that!” he stammered, his voice almost breaking.
Regulus raised an eyebrow. "I think she just did."
Sirius shot him a glare but quickly turned back to his mother. “This is absurd. You can’t ban *James*. He’s—he’s not part of the grounding!”
Walburga’s smile widened as she watched her son’s composure crumble. “Oh, I can. And I have.”
Sirius’ mind raced. “What am I supposed to do? Sit in my room? Alone? With *no James*?”
“That’s exactly what you’ll do,” Walburga said smoothly. “You’ll have time to think about your actions. Perhaps some time away from your *disruptive* influences will do you good.”
Sirius, who moments ago had looked like he was ready to take on the world, was now pacing the room, his panic mounting. “This is barbaric! It’s—it’s torture! You can’t just—just *cut me off* from James!”
Bellatrix cackled in the corner. “He’s really losing it.”
Narcissa leaned into Lucius and whispered, “It’s quite amusing, isn’t it?”
Walburga, enjoying every second of her son’s unraveling, crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Perhaps this will teach you to behave.”
Sirius, completely ignoring everyone else in the room, ran a hand through his hair, clearly on the verge of a breakdown. “I need James!” he blurted out, pacing faster. “He—he’s my best mate! My—what am I supposed to do without him?!”
Regulus, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, leaned over to Bellatrix and muttered, “I’ve never seen him panic like this.”
Bellatrix grinned. “Oh, this is brilliant.”
Finally, Sirius stopped pacing and turned to Walburga, desperation written all over his face. “Mother, please. *Anything* but that. Ground me forever, lock me in a cupboard, put bars on my windows, send me to Azkaban, take my broom, ban me from everything—but not James!”
Walburga raised an eyebrow. “Are you… *begging*?”
Sirius, looking utterly defeated, threw his pride to the wind. “Yes. Yes, I am *begging*. Please, anything but James.”
Walburga let the silence hang in the air for a moment, letting her victory sink in. “No James,” she repeated calmly, sealing Sirius' fate.
Sirius let out a dramatic groan, dropping into a nearby armchair, his head in his hands. “I’m doomed.”
At the back of the room, the entire family watched in awe. Sirius, the rebellious golden child, the Black who never bowed to anyone’s rules, had just been brought to his knees by a simple sentence: 'No James.'