A/N There are no words to sufficiently apologize for the amount of time it has taken me to update this story. I had no idea it had been this long until I glanced at the update date. Thank you to everyone who has read and supported this story, and I hope that you will continue to do so. I will try to do a better job of updating in the future.

You sit up in bed slowly. It's early still, and you hope that everyone else is still sleeping. It's your birthday, but you don't feel particularly excited or anywhere near prepared for the number of activities you are sure your friends have planned.

Normally, your birthday was a very formal event. As the heir to the Black family your birthday was always celebrated with an agonizingly formal dinner replete with the stiffest and most hardnosed pureblood families. Though the parties were ostensibly to celebrate you, they were generally just an opportunity for your family to point out your failures compared to the other pureblood heirs.

They probably would not celebrate his birthday at all except that it was an opportunity for the Blacks to show off their wealth and supposed superiority. If you had been home this year your birthday party would likely have focused on introducing you to eligible pureblood witches with an eye towards forming an arranged marriage.

After the fiasco with Andromeda you knew your parents planned to get you forcibly married before you turned seventeen and could legally escape them. Divorce simply was not done in the wizarding world.

You drag a hand through your hair as you hear a tapping at the window. You can see a strange owl waiting outside the window.

You feel a strong sense of apprehension. You know that there is a restraining order in effect and that your parents will have been advised by the team of lawyers they have no doubt employed not to contact you. Even so, you find it hard to believe that they will let your birthday pass without taking the opportunity for additional torment.

You cross to the window and allow the owl entrance. It obligingly stretches its leg out toward you and you see that it has nothing more than a copy of the Daily Prophet. You had taken out a subscription after the Potters started trying to hide their own from you.

As the owl flies off through your window, you unfold the paper and are greeted by the headline: "Black Heir turns sixteen amidst Growing Family Turmoil "

Sirius Black, heir to the main branch of the pureblood Black family, turns sixteen today. Black is currently suing his parents for legal emancipation and has filed charges alleging abuse by his parents Orion and Walburga Black.

Sirius attends Hogwarts where he is a member of Gryffindor house, the first Black in over a century to be sorted outside of Slytherin. We reached out to his parents for comment, and received the following statement from one of their attorneys:

"Orion and Walburga Black love their son Sirius dearly, and are hurt by these allegations of abuse. Sirius has always been an imaginative child, and they feel certain that he is being influenced by others to make these allegations. On their son's birthday, despite their current separation, they just want Sirius to know that they love him and are looking forward to being reunited soon."

Details of the abuse complaint have remained under wraps at this point, and it is unknown exactly what Sirius alleges occurred. Sirius' younger brother, Regulus, a member of Slytherin house, still resides in the family home with their parents, and does not appear to have made any similar claims of abuse.

Sirius is currently staying with the Potter family, and has only been seen in public a handful of times this summer.

Black will be returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to start his sixth year on September 1st.

You through the newspaper aside, hands shaking slightly. You take a breath to steady yourself. You knew your parents would find a way to get at you, that they couldn't possibly allow your birthday to pass without taking the opportunity to issue a warning.

The tone of the statement was clear; your parents expect to be reunited soon. It could just be overconfidence, but your parents seldom issue a threat they don't follow up on. You wonder idly if they have managed to bribe the entire Wizengamot yet, or whether the Ministry's reluctance to make a pureblood family look bad is sufficient for you to get sent back home.

You tuck the newspaper under your pillow, run your fingers through your hair one last time, and plaster a smile on your face. You head downstairs determined to face the day with whatever sense of dignity you can muster.