For some reason, Regulus was the one who came up with his food that day around noon.

It was the same repulsive spoilt bread and milk; Sirius began to wonder if his parents were actually planning to starve him to death, then Regulus produced a hastily wrapped packet from his pocket and slipped it into Sirius' hands.

"What is it?" asked Sirius, curiosity overcoming his desire to slam the door in his face, as he opened it and saw half a loaf of fresh bread and a fruitcake.

He looked up at his brother.

"I told Kreacher I'll bring it up from today," said Regulus hesitantly. "This is all I could sneak without...her...noticing."

The way he said 'her' made Sirius wonder if Regulus might be feeling upset with their mother too.

"Er..." said Sirius. "Thanks Reg."

Regulus smiled a little. "You're really bored, aren't you?"

"Just a little," said Sirius, rolling his eyes.

Regulus looked behind him to confirm that no one was coming and said, "I got a Daily Prophet in my room, d'you want it for the crossword?"

"Yes," said Sirius gratefully.

Minutes later, Sirius was having the first proper meal since the first evening of the holidays (even though it didn't do much to fill his stomach) and reading the Daily Prophet.

One piece of news caught his eyes.

'You Know Who recruiting werewolfs for his propaganda'

Sirius started to read it.

'The current punishment for a werewolf who has bitten a human is lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban along with slow injection of silver cyanide into his veins. As per common knowledge, any compound of silver is fatal to a werewolf and this punishment, prevalent for the last 40 years ensure...'

Sirius did not realize when the newspaper fell down from his hands, but after a while he found himself staring blankly at the picture of the four Marauders which he had put up after his first year on his wall with Permanent Sticking Charm.

Especially at the kind hearted, tired face of the boy standing left of James.

Slow injection of silver cyanide into the veins....

He had almost pushed Remus towards a fate like that.

When Walburga Black came up for questioning hours later, she found Sirius lying on the floor, sobbing, and she stared at the unexpected sight in shock.

"Sirius!" she barked to announce her presence.

Sirius noticed her and sat up, horrified.

"What has happened now?" demanded Walburga harshly.

Sirius attempted to shove the Daily Prophet out of sight so that Reg didn't get into trouble, but that was of course, a pretty stupid move. His mother swooped down and snatched it immediately.

"Where did you get this from?" she snarled.

"I—I—" said Sirius. "An owl delivered it to me, I'd taken the subscription."

"Don't lie!" shrieked Walburga. "There is only one newspaper here! Where are the other ones of the week? REGULUS! REGULUS!"

"He didn't—"

"REGULUS!"

Regulus came running into the room.

"What happened, mum?"

"Sirius told me you've given him this newspaper," said Walburga viciously.

Sirius could hardly believe that a mother could be so petty.

"Reg, no..." he said, but Regulus was not even looking at him. Clearly he chose to believe his mother over his brother.

Walburga was examining the page which had been open.

"Why is he reading and crying over werewolfs?" she demanded.

No one said anything.

"Regulus! Answer me!"

"Well one of his best friends is rumoured to be a werewolf," blurted out Regulus unexpectedly.

Did Regulus just say that? Had Snape told the whole Slytherin house?

Sirius began to feel sicker than he had in the last seven days. Hadn't Dumbledore made Snape give his word?

Out of nowhere, he found the tears coming back to his eyes, though he never cried in front of his parents. He didn't cry much at all, but even if it did, not in front of this hag.

His tears did not go unnoticed.

"So he really is werewolf?" asked Walburga, her lip curling spitefully. "Not only do you mingle with blood traitors and half-bloods, you've taken to half-breeds as well...."

Sirius was determined not to react. He could not make it surer for Regulus.

"Call your father," Walburga ordered Regulus, who scarpered away at once.

Orion came up after a while.

"Your son has a monster as his best friend," said his mother. "A werewolf. Just look at the depths he has sunk to."

"None of my best friends is a monster," said Sirius quietly.

"Lying, are we?" said Orion. "Did your offence have something to do with the monster?"

Blood pounded in Sirius' ears, even as the tears on his cheeks froze.

"HE—IS—NOT—A—MONSTER," he shouted at the top of his voice, standing up so that he reached his father's height.

"What else is he? And don't shout at us," said Orion.

"I will shout all I want at narrow minded bigots like you," snarled Sirius, and he was genuinely beyond caring about consequences.

"DON'T YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH YOUR—" screeched Walburga.

Sirius made a split second decision that he would not stay in his house a single day longer. He raised his wand to summon his belongings, but Orion raised his wand at the same moment and Sirius was slammed backwards and hit the window.

For a moment, Sirius felt like he was knocked out cold. When he blinked and opened his eyes again, he saw his father looking down at him with an expression that actually made him feel a sense of deep foreboding.

And Sirius never felt scared. No, he didn't. The only time he really felt scared as far as he remembered was after the Whomping Willow thing, when he felt that he would never get James, Remus and Peter back.

Now that was something to be genuinely scared of.

Thinking about Remus once again brought the terrifying newspaper article back to his mind.

Remus was actually talking to him after that...he did not even deserve that much, and he'd been feeling bitter about how he did not seem to trust him completely...

He was so ungrateful, he could not even measure it.

"Get up!" said Orion.

"I am not staying here," said Sirius, standing up unsteadily.

"Oh? And you'll live on the streets, will you?" demanded Wlaburga.

Sirius did not care where he lived, all he cared about was leaving this place—hell, he'd rather live in a sewer than this place.

This time he managed to summon all his belongings with a non-verbal spell.

"You are not going anywhere!"

He saw his father raising his wand again, and then Sirius was feeling an excruciating pain, worse than anything he had ever imagined...

He needed to get away...

And he would not scream, no matter how much his father hurt him.

He needed to get away now...

Remus would have experienced so much worse than this if he had bitten Snape after all.

What had he done? Why had he done that?

HE NEEDED TO GET AWAY!

After that, Sirius was vaguely aware of himself raising his own wand and throwing a curse at his father—not the Cruciatus Curse, of course, but something. His mother screamed in outrage, but Sirius was already striding out of the room, levitating his stuff.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, COME BACK RIGHT NOW!"

She may as well have been shrieking at the wall for all he cared.

"Sirius!"

A much softer voice, scared and pleading intercepted him as he reached the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Regulus.

"I don't have any idea," spat Sirius. "But I'm going."

"You can't go away."

"Oh yeah? And who d'you think you are to tell me that?"

"Mum will blast you off the family tree," said Regulus.

As if that bothered him.

"She blasted me off years back from the family," said Sirius, daring Regulus to contradict him.

Regulus did not.

Sirius walked out of the door, in case his father caught up with him now. He would not lose his freedom, not when it was so close.

"Sirius," said Regulus in a very small voice. "Please don't go."

Sirius did not deign to look at him at all.

"It's very easy for you to ask that, you know. You're the apple of their eyes. They would not dream of using the Cruciatus curse on you, would they?" said Sirius quietly.

"You're my brother," pleaded Regulus.

"Yeah, right," said Sirius with a humourless laugh. "Brothers."

And finally, he strode out of the gate and out of the suffocating, torturous life he'd endured for 16 years in the worst home he could imagine, feeling a vicious satisfaction at having refused Regulus' plea.