In which the untold story of Walburga Black unfolds.
She was a witch before she was a wife, mother, and cruel woman.
⭑⭑⭑
"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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(𝟑 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫)
𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓 - 𝟏𝟐 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.
As the months passed, she found herself increasingly isolated.
The grand home seemed to echo with the absence of her family members—both boys were back at Hogwarts, Orion distanced himself, and Alphard's absence loomed heavily.
The once opulent halls now felt empty and cavernous, each room a reminder of the solitude she now faced. The ornate furnishings and intricate tapestries seemed to mock her loneliness, casting long shadows in the dim light that filtered through the tall windows.
Whilst she found solace in reading Regulus' letters of his time in Hogwarts; she received nothing from Sirius. In turn, she stopped writing to him completely, only ever sending the means to buy whatever he needed from Hogsmeade.
Smiling, as she read of Regulus' time with Narcissa and Lucius. It had seemed the trio grew closer even though both Nariccsa and Lucius were in the grade above him. She wondered if Sirius had even tried to spend time with his brother.
Sighing she folded up the letter and placed it on her desk before leaning back on her her chair. As time passed her tears for Alphard had run out; her grief was replaced with a furious melancholy.
Trying her best not to think of him grew to be an impossible task; all she saw when she looked at Regulus was her brother.
The opposite had occurred with Sirius; the young boy was practically a stranger. She supposed that somewhere along the line she just stopped trying to be there for him. Perhaps the boy felt the same way - even when he was home it was as if he wasn't.
Getting up from her ornately carved desk, its surface laden with papers and quills, she moved gracefully to the antique liquor cabinet. She paused for a moment, her fingers gently caressing the polished mahogany wood before selecting a bottle of wine. As she poured herself a glass, she couldn't help but notice the label, recognizing it as one that Alphard had invested in years ago.
Sipping from her glass, she allowed her mind to wander to a recurring memory, a haunting echo of past betrayals. "We concocted a scheme to deceive you, to make you believe that our entire childhood was a fabrication," the words echoed in her mind, carrying with them a weight of betrayal and deception.
Even then, she still didn't know what memories were real and what memories were fake. She grew ambivalent towards it all, figuring that it didn't matter what she went through if this was her reality.
Despite Cygnus's efforts to apologize through small gifts and letters, she remained steadfast in her refusal to forgive him. Since the night of Alphard's death, she hadn't spoken a word to him, her silence a testament to the depth of her hurt and betrayal. Druella, only ever smiled sadly at her which did nothing.
