Lacerta Black -- James Potter --

19

trigger warning: abuse

It felt like things were back to the beginning of the school year for the siblings. Sirius was hanging out with the Marauders as he avoided them both, Regulus either hung out with Lacerta when he could or stuck to himself, and Lacerta was strung along by Selwyn - her night of drunken freedom long forgotten. 

They exited the train, heading home for Easter break. The dresses her parents bought her always felt tight around her neck as she tried to loosen it to no avail. She easily spotted the brooding characters that were Walburga and Orion Black. They glared at any child that got too close to them, making them run in fright. Selwyn escorted her over as Regulus lagged behind.

"Mother, Father," she greeted with a small nod. 

"Thank you, Charles," Walburga smiled warmly at the boy, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "Come children, we have certain. . . behaviors to discuss at home."

She gripped Regulus's hand tightly as they held their parent's arms to apparate home. Her face paled drastically when they were behind closed doors. Her brother's face looked similar as he chewed on his bottom lip.

"Let's all sit at the table. . . have a little chat," Orion said before ordering Kreacher to make them some tea. They all sat in their spots as the siblings stared at their cups for the way out of whatever punishment was going to come their way. "Lacerta, we heard you were a drunken slut at a party you attended. Kissing some blood-traitor and then hanging onto his side for the rest of the night! We didn't raise you to sleep around like some common whore."

"I'm sorry, Father," she hurried to get out, but it was too late as wandlessly cursed her mouth to be glued shut. She pried at her lips, only making them bleed from her nails digging in.  

"Women are much prettier when they aren't talking," he seethed. Walburga's gaze hardened at his statement, but she was wise to not say anything less she was next. "Regulus! You are the Heir! And we hear you willingly hanging around blood-traitors and Mudbloods. Then, to top it off, you get into a fight in front of the entire school. Not even with magic, we hear you fought the muggle way."

He sank in his chair with shame. "I apologize father, but Sirius--"

"We do not speak that disgrace's name," Walburga hissed. She'd always been made to feel responsible for his departure as she was the one who was supposed to teach him their ways.

"We've decided to push up the wedding," Orion held up his hand as Regulus opened up his mouth to speak. "Regulus, to make up for your. . . outlandish behavior, you will get the Mark when you return for the summer."

Lacerta screeched, one of the only sounds she could make with her mouth sealed shut. She banged her hand on the table in frustration, but the spell didn't lift. 

"Stop acting so fucking insane, Lacerta," Orion grabbed her hair, pulling her head back to get her to quiet down. "There is a woman upstairs here to fit you for your dress, hurry along so you won't keep her waiting. We plan on having it the day before you go back."

He released his grip as she flattened down her hair. She held her head high as she strutted out of the room, eager to get away. She felt like crying, but no tears would surface. It was probably a good thing, Blacks never cry. At least not in front of other people.

"Hello Madam," a stout women curtsied as she entered her room. A bunch of different fabrics hung magically in the air and a large stool was in the center so that she could step on it. "Was there anything you had in mind for your big day?"

No shook her head, not able to say that she would be fine in a potato sack. 

"No problem, Miss." The women, who had not bothered to introduce herself, seemed to gather that she couldn't talk. She would hold up different fabrics, waiting for her to nod in approval or shake them off. 

Walburga entered about halfway through, making a bunch of adjustments to the progress they'd made. She made the skirt twice as large, adding layers with bows to pull up some of the fabric, she made the sleeves puffy, and the bodice tighter. She added a train that thankfully was only a couple of centimeters long. The off-white color seemed to compliment her skin and make her hair stand out more.

Her Mother stood behind her in the mirror, holding her hair up to get the full effect. "I sure you can borrow my pearl earrings and perhaps even a pearl necklace. We can put your hair up and get something new to put in it. What do you think, Lacerta?"

She hmphed grumpily, crossing her arms. 

The older woman merely laughed as she stepped towards the door. "Get that dress hung up and you might as well go to bed since you can't eat."

Lacerta took care to hang up the dress, not wanting it to tear and for her father to get upset. She slipped into an unpleasant nightgown and sobbed into a pillow until she finally went to sleep.

******

Woken up by screams was always her worst fear. She feared that one day she wouldn't be woken up by them, that she'd be too late. She jumped out of the covers, making it down the stairs in record time.

Regulus was writhing on the floor as their mother glared daggers, her teeth gritted as she put all her anger into the spell. Lacerta tried to yell at the older woman to stop but forgot that her mouth was sealed shut and nothing would come out. Instead, she jumped onto her back, tackling her to the floor. 

Her brother was too weak from the torture curse, laying on the floor while his chest heaved. Her mother easily threw her gangly body to the side. She didn't care because the attention and anger were on her instead of him. 

"How dare you! We raised you children better than this and yet you defy us every chance you get. I think it's best to have you both confined to your rooms until the wedding."

She couldn't even talk back as they were cursed into their rooms. She closed her eyes and forced herself to come to terms with getting married at sixteen. At the fact that she was being forced to grow up far too fast for her liking.