In which the untold story of Walburga Black unfolds.
She was a witch before she was a wife, mother, and cruel woman.
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"You failed as a mother; I failed as a son. Can you sit here truthfully, and say you love me? Look in my eyes, and say that you...
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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟒𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟔 - 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲.
For weeks, Orion and Walburga hadn't spoken to each other. Orion went to great lengths to avoid his future wife, and Walburga, though noticing the distance, never questioned it.
Poor Alphard found himself caught in between the two, navigating the tension that lingered in the air between the cousins.
Orion spent most of his time away from her, which was odd since the boy had usually followed her like a lost puppy. Eleanor Nott had taken up the slot, spending most of her time with him.
In the quiet corners of the library, away from the strained dynamics that surrounded them, Walburga and Alphard found refuge. The scent of old books and the hushed whispers of knowledge-seeking students created an atmosphere of serenity.
One day, as they sat at a secluded table, Alphard broke the silence, "Have you tried talking to Orion?"
Walburga sighed, her gaze fixed on the pages of the book in front of her. "What he decides to do before we are wed is his business."
Alphard leaned back, studying her expression. "You are both so-" he stopped mid-sentence when she glared at him.
Her eyes narrowed, and she retorted, her voice taking on an icy edge, "Complicated, I suppose."
The intensity in her gaze sent a shiver down Alphard's spine, and he quickly averted his eyes, realizing the futility of probing further into the complexities of Walburga's relationship with Orion.
Truth be told, she hated not being the center of his attention.
It wasn't that she wanted him with her; she just did not want him to be with anyone. The sting of possessive resentment simmered beneath the surface.
As she turned the pages of the book, her thoughts spiraled into a storm of conflicting emotions.
"Are you alright? You've got that look that mother had whenever father would leave home," Alphard spoke as he glanced at the crinkled pages of her book.
Breathing slowly she composed herself. "I am just perfect," flashing him a small smile, "I will speak to him tonight and end this." The words held a determined edge.
Quickly trying to change the subject, she brought up the news. "So, I read that they have spotted Malachi Macduff somewhere near Durmstrang." Her tone shifted.
Alphard perked up at the mention of the final Acolyte. "I hope they get him sooner rather than later. Although, I have to admit, maybe becoming an Animagus isn't such a bad idea. I mean they can't catch him because he is practically living in his bear form." He chuckled, musing on the notion of acquiring the ability to transform at will.
