Toujours Pur

Toujours Pur

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Who knows how long its been around. Who knows who the first Black was. What everyone does know the Blacks were pureblood. The Blacks also spawned some of the most dangerous and powerful Wizards that have ever came to be. My family, is very closely related to the dark arts. It is funny, it's the very things they prided themselves on, that brought their demise.

I, Sirius Black am the last of the black family. Here I am, falling into death. Killed by my own dear sweet cousin. My cousin who had made her parents proud in many ways. She was a great witch, she was also mad. She probably didn't really loath mud bloods, she just loved to cause trouble. She loved to create pain. Bellatrix Black was always very dark. This was probably the easiest way for her to achieve such things.

As I said early, The very things they prided themselves on, brought their demise. My dear sweet family, almost all of them turning out to be death eaters. There is my dear sweet brother, who got himself in far to deep and tried to swim away. Of course, he drowned, or in less figurative language, he died.

Few probably know that I loved my brother, I loved him dearly. Sure, we became two very different people. He was torn between making me proud and making my parents proud. Sure enough, my parents ripped him towards them. But, I'll never forget, the things me and him shared when we were younger. We were close, yet our beliefs, of family, ripped us apart.

The Black Family has been tearing out its insides for ages. It was bound to fall sometime.

I'll never forget the night Mum beheaded our house elf. She lead both of us to the yard. We stood side by side. I believe It was the summer of my fourth year. It would of made it his second. I'm not sure. She was grinning, and it was quite frightening. The house elf was bent over a wood block, looking quite obedient.

"No reason to keep around a useless house elf.." Mum said and she raised the ax.

It was hard to think of the thoughts that were in my mind. Just the horror, the unexplainable horror. Not that the house elf was dieing, but that my very mother, was doing this. My mother, slayer of house elves. As scared as I was, I felt a sorrow for all the people, all the creatures who have laid their head down as someone raised the ax. It hard to explain, I just felt it.

I felt an overwhelming love for my brother too, the falling sun making the yard dark, yet bits of orange light touched our faces. We were still transfixed in horror. He was holding on to me, he was shaking. I wanted nothing more then to protect my younger brother. My lovely brother, who died trying to make my parents happy. I wanted to take him away and protect him from the evil. I'll never forget him, how much I loved him, and how close we were that night, as the blade went straight through the elf neck.

I loved him, just as much as I loved all my 'brothers.'

I loved him as much as I love Remus and James, and as much as I loved Peter.

As I was saying, most of my family turned out to be death eaters. One, took it to quite an extreme. My dear, lovely cousin Bellatrix. All of us were raised quite close together, and I loved her too at one time. She was sane at one time, she might of even grown to be a sweet girl. Yet, way leads on to way, and that never happened. She was also the last person who I saw before I died. I died at her hands. The last time I saw Bellatrix Black Lestrange, my cousin, my family, was when she was killing me. Everything the Black family prided itself on brought the end of the family.

The name ends here.