It's my liife, it's now or neeveeer (8)
Gotta love a bit of Glee. Or Bon Jovi, whatever floats your boat. :')
Okay, so I know I said this didn't work, but i -think- i like it. I think i'll take it down after the competition, but hey, whatever :') This is my second entry for the Song Prompt Competition on HPFC, inspired by Glee's (Bon Jovi's) It's My Life.
If you're interested, my first was a Remus one inspired by Viva la Vida. If you can see the connection there, then you've got the same slightly addled mind as me :') BUT ANYWAY, ENOUGH SHAMELESS ADVERTISING. ON WITH THIS.

It's My Life.
(Alternatively: "How Regulus Black Became a Sherlock Holmes Fanboy.)

"That's him - the boy I was telling you about."

"Oh, he's one of the Blacks, isn't he?"

"And he's in Gryffindor. Do you remember that howler he got?"

"Haha. Which one?"

Sirius smirked as he heard the hushed whispers of the girls behind him. They were Ravenclaws from his year - he didn't really know them, he'd never actually spoke to them, but it seemed his story travelled fast.

Of course, that was how he'd intended it to be.

He stepped onto the train, brushing the newly-fallen snow from his shoulders before turning his head over his shoulder and smiling at the girls. They saw, and smiled back, blushing to their ears.

Again, exactly how he'd intended it.

He had to take the Christmas train journey home alone that year; James, Remus and Peter were all staying in school for the holidays. Of course, Sirius would have given anything to stay, but he'd been summoned by his parents - and that was the kind of thing you just couldn't turn down. Not if you wanted to stay alive.

He knew exactly what they were going to say - they were going to admonish him for being a Gryffindor, for being friends with James and, of course, for his incessant ability to get himself into trouble. But Sirius didn't care. As soon as he'd been sorted into his house, as he sat down on the table adorned with red and gold and flabbergasted students, he'd made a decision.

He was going to live while he was alive. He was going to make his own choices. His parents had no control over him - he'd do whatever the hell he liked.

And that's just what I'll tell them, he thought, as he took a window seat in an empty compartment, leaning his head on the cold glass and smirking to himself again, it's my life, after all.


"Hey, Mum, Dad."

They didn't reply. His mother continued looking over his head, whilst his father's cold, black eyes glared at him with such ferocity that Sirius should have been petrified. But he wasn't. He smiled up at his father, nodding to the Russian-style furry hat on his head.

"Nice hat."

His father bared his teeth, and for a second Sirius thought he was going to explode right there and then, on the platform. But of course, the Black family had a reputation to keep up. Orion Black would not lose his temper in public.

It was at this point that Sirius noticed the younger, far too smug-looking boy standing at his mother's side. He was staring right at Sirius, bearing the same eyes as his father but with an extra, almost happy twinkle in them. A cruel smirk twisted on his lips as he seemed to contemplate his older brother, standing before him. He didn't move, however, keeping his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, which was buttoned all the way up to his chin. It really was far too old for a boy of eight.

"Alright, Regulus?"

Regulus' smile grew a little wider. "I'm fine, Sirius." he said, emphasizing the word 'I'm'. Sirius rolled his eyes. He couldn't be bothered with his little brother's smugness right now.

Their small conversation, however, had caught his mother's attention. Still not looking at Sirius, she forcefully steered Regulus towards the exit of the platform. His father followed them without a word to Sirius.

Sirius sighed. Heaving his trunk onto a nearby trolley, he set off into the crowd to find where his family had gone.


As soon as the front door clicked behind them, it began.

"HOW DARE YOU?"

Sirius looked up into the fiery eyes of his mother, a twinge of fear growing in the bottom of his stomach. He'd seen his mother angry before - more times than he could count -, but never this angry. She looked as if she was going to strangle him. Actually strangle him.

It didn't help that his father stood behind her, just snarling and rubbing his knuckles. Of course, that had always been his preferred style of punishment; Sirius was sure to remember the rules after they'd been beat into him.

And then, of course, there was Regulus. Sitting on the stairs, Kreacher stood behind him, smirking at Sirius through the bars that held the banister up. Oh, he was enjoying this far too much.

Sirius gulped before he spoke, trying not to show the fear. "Sorry?"

His mother narrowed her eyes. "Don't even pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, boy. Do you even know how much shame you've brought on this family?"

"Mother, I can't help where I'm sort-"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT!" The vein that both Sirius and Regulus feared was now pulsing in his mother's forehead, "We wrote to that fool Dumbledore every week while you were at school! He told us you could change houses if you wanted to, because of the special circumstances..."

Sirius' father began to slowly walk past his mother, heading to stand behind Sirius and never taking his eyes from his eldest son. Sirius dared not take his eyes away from his mother.

"I-I didn't know, Mother-"

"But why didn't you ask, boy? WHY DIDN'T YOU CHANGE?"

There was a terrible, silent pause then as Sirius considered his options. He could tell his mother what she wanted to hear, and change houses when he got back to school. He could be a good little boy, and a stereotypical Slytherin. He could leave behind everything he'd come to know and love since September and make his family proud of him, for the first time in his life.

Or, he could tell the truth. But in the face of his almost growling mother, he could barely stand to.

"Well?"

He thought of James, and Remus and Peter back at school, waiting for him. What would they do in this situation? What would James do?

He took a deep breath. "Because I didn't want to."

His father's hand came down fast and hard on the back of his head, but Sirius didn't cry. Sirius never cried.

His mother looked just about ready to explode. The vein was bigger than he'd ever seen it.

"What... did you just say?" She almost whispered, through gritted teeth. Sirius looked her straight in the eyes.

"I - I didn't want to." He repeated, louder than before.

His father hit him again, but he didn't care.

"It's not about what you want, boy. It's about your family - or do you have any concept of the word?" His mother tutted, turning away, "It's too late now anyway. Sort your act out, boy."

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes icy.

"You're no son of mine."


His mother didn't speak to him at all from then on, so Sirius never got the chance to tell her that he didn't care. Of course, he could have done it then - but he was a terrified boy of eleven who had over estimated his own bravery, he couldn't possibly stand up to her.

He stayed at school for all the holidays he possibly could after that, too, with his friends.

That is, until he was sixteen. He was ordered to return home for the Christmas holidays; he had to go.

And as he boarded the train alone, again, he decided that this would definitely be the time he'd tell them that he didn't care about them. He knew what they were going to punish him for now, too - it had been about 2 months since the 'incident' with Snape. Remus was only just talking to him again.

As the train started to move, he began to plan what he was going to say.


The door slammed behind him, and his mother's eyes began to blaze. But Sirius stood firm, staring right back at her defiantly. His father stood behind him, and Sirius knew that Regulus was listening from the living room. But the smug expression that Sirius knew his younger brother would be wearing right now would soon be wiped from his face, and he knew it. He was going to fight back. He wasn't going to take this sitting down.

When his mother still stood in silence, Sirius raised one eyebrow, leaning on one leg more than the other. "Well?"

His mother's eyes flashed with anger. "I can deal with the incessant, schoolboy pranking. I deny you're my family. I can deal with you befriending blood traitors and mudbloods. Again, I deny you're my family. But when I meet people in the street - good, pureblood people - and they accuse my family of being blood traitors..." she paused, stepping towards him. Their faces were inches apart. Sirius could smell her musty, old perfume, see every imperfect pore on her face she'd desperately tried to cover up with make-up, apparently applied with a trowel. He didn't even blink as she continued, "...that, I cannot deal with."

Sirius smirked. "Blood traitors? Why would they say that, then?"

She slapped him. He could feel his face reddening but he didn't flinch, instead matching his mother's stare with equal ferocity. She scowled, gritting her teeth.

"A perfectly respectable Slytherin boy-"

"Snape's a half blood, you know. I didn't think you approved of them."

She ignored him, her eyes like ice. "- with a very promising future -"

"As a Death Eater? Well if that's what you call promising I'd rather have no career prospects."

She snapped, shreiking "Orion!". His father hit him around the back of his head. Hard. He began pacing - Sirius could hear the click of his cane on the oak flooring. His mother looked at him in disgust.

"He could have died."

Sirius shrugged. "You don't usually care about murder - especially when it's innocent people."

She bared her teeth, not even needing to speak. Sirius' father clipped him in the back of the knees with his cane, causing Sirius to fall to a kneeling position. His mother advanced, trying to look imposing. Sirius stared right back. He wasn't going to stay silent now. He wasn't eleven anymore.

His mother pulled his chin up so she could look down on him properly. "You didn't tell me about your filthy little friend."

Sirius couldn't help it - he felt his masked expression slip, his eyes flash with something between panic and anger. His mother smirked.

"Oh yes, Dumbledore had to tell me all about him. The half-breed."

Sirius tried to stand, but his father pushed him back down. He could feel his knees bruising at the impact on the wood. His mind was spinning - Dumbledore had told his mother about Remus?

Her smirk slipped into the all too familiar scowl. "Of course, I've been sworn into secrecy on fear of imprisonment in Azkaban."

Sirius' eyes flickered inadvertently to the living room door. It was his father, surprisingly, who answered the silent question.

"Your brother can't hear us." He offered no explanation as to why.

Sirius' mother slapped him with the back of her left hand, her wedding ring grazing his cheek so it bled. She looked almost animalistic as she regarded her eldest son.

"How dare you." she growled. Sirius swallowed, bringing the mask back to his face.

"It's my life, mother."

Her eyes flashed again. She grabbed his chin hard, pulling it up to her level. He had no choice but to stand - she was surprisingly strong. His knees ached from where he'd been pushed to the floor and his head hurt from where his father hit him, as well as his reddened cheek leaking warm blood from the cut caused by his mothers ring. He felt the blood reach his lips and licked as a reflex, the metallic taste making him instantly wish he hadn't.

"Your life isn't yours to do as you please. Your life is to serve your family - to serve..."

She faltered. Sirius smiled. "Who, Voldemort?"

She dropped his chin violently, as if the touch would burn. Sirius stepped backwards to the foot of the stairs as his father walked to stand beside his mother, wearing the same incredulous expression as her.

"How dare you use his name!" she almost whispered, breathless from shock. Sirius took a deep breath.

"Why not? Am I meant to be afraid?" he let out a short laugh, "Why should I be afraid? He's a man, mother, nothing more. Not some God like you lot make him out to be. And a bloody evil man at that. And the way you worship him makes me sick - physically sick. So you're right. I am no son of yours, just as much as you're not my family-"

His mother looked ready to explode. "Not your family?" she shouted, and there was no doubt Regulus could hear them now, "We have raised you! We put a roof over your head! You will do as we say!"

Sirius' expression darkened. "Make me."

And with that, he marched up the stairs.


He furiously grabbed at random possessions and flung them blindly into his trunk. He didn't falter when he heard someone else enter his room. He didn't care.

"Sirius?"

At the sound of his brother's voice, however, Sirius wheeled around. Eyes still blazing, he shouted "What?" across the room. Regulus' eyes grew, if possible, wider.

"What... what are you doing?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, turning back to his trunk. It was almost full. Grabbing another shirt, he answered, quieter, "I'm packing. What does it look like?"

"P-packing?" Regulus' eyes darted about as he followed his brother's movements, "Are you leaving?"

Sirius stopped to give the younger boy an incredulous look. "Woah, Sherlock. Your deductive skills are just on fire today." As Regulus began to frown, Sirius lowered himself gently onto his stinging knees.

"Wait- who?"

As he stood up, Sirius dragged a book out from under his bed. He threw the birthday present Remus had given him last year at Regulus. "Read it."

Regulus studied the cover. "Sherlock Holmes..."

At the sound of Sirius' slamming trunk, Regulus jolted back into reality. "Where are you going to go?" Sirius ran his hand through his hair, still looking down at the trunk.

"I don't know," he admitted, "I don't care, as long as it isn't here."

He started to drag the trunk across his bedroom floor, grabbing his broomstick on the way out. Regulus stood in the doorway.

"Get out of the way."

Regulus shook his head. "You can't just... go. You'll - I don't know, you'll die or something!"

"Get out of the way, or I'll push you out of the way."

"Listen, Sirius, I know we don't like each other, but I can't just let you go-"

He was cut off by Sirius pushing him roughly to the floor.


"Sirius Orion Black! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?"

The trunk reached the bottom of the stairs with a bang, clashing with Sirius' mother's grating shrieks. Sirius scowled at nothing in particular, but didn't stop. He heard Regulus heading down the stairs behind him.

He dragged the trunk off the bottom step and onto the floor, tucking his broom under his arm, still no clue as to where he was going to go. As he reached the door, fumbling with the lock, adrenaline pumping through his veins, he heard his mother charge towards him. He willed his fingers to hurry up, but couldn't. She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck just as the door swung open and turned him to face her. Her hair was falling from it's tight bun, her face was flushed with red, her eyes were wild with anger. So Sirius did the only thing he could do.

He hit her with his broomstick.

At impact, it snapped, but Sirius was beyond caring, the only thought in his mind to get out. He let it fall to the floor as his mother staggered back in surprise and Sirius ran towards the now open door, pushing his trunk down the steps. At the bottom, he dragged it forward into the road, not looking back at the door he'd just left. He heard his mother scream, his father roar and his brother call his name, but Sirius Black ignored them, mind concentrating solely on his future. His life.

A vase narrowly missed him, as his mother threw random objects into the street after him. "FINE!" she screamed, standing in the doorway for the whole street to see, "LEAVE! I DON'T CARE! I COULDN'T BE HAPPIER TO HAVE A FILTHY, FAMILY- SHAMING BLOOD TRAITOR LIKE YOU OUT OF MY LIFE!"

And the door of 12 Grimmauld Place shut behind Sirius for what he thought was the last time.


The reality of running away proved to be much harder than the idea, especially without a broom. Once the adrenaline wore off, all Sirius could think of was how stupid he'd been not to have brought a jacket, or how serious the punishment would be if he apparated without a license.

He eventually decided it couldn't be that bad, and hours after he'd first left the shouting family in Grimmauld Place, he arrived at the front door of someone he hoped wouldn't turn him away.

The old woman who opened the door looked shocked and confused at the sight of Sirius on her doorstep, but she didn't look angry, despite it being late - Sirius had no idea how late.

"Sirius?" she asked, worried. Sirius lifted his head.

"Mrs. Potter? Hi."

James Potter's mother looked him up and down. "Sirius!" she gasped, "What are you doing here? What have you done? Oh, lord - you're bleeding!"

"Am I? Still?" Sirius touched the now dry blood on his cheek. Mrs. Potter just stood looking at him, still in shock. "What happened?"

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I, erm... I sort of, ran away." He looked up to face her, timidly, "Sorry, Mrs. Potter. I had nowhere else to go."

Finally, the old woman seemed to snap out of it, wrapping her arm around the shivering boy on the doorstep and leading him inside.

"I was wondering when you'd get around to that."