Written for:
Ultimate Chocolate Frog Cards Challenge: Maladora Grymm – Use the tale of Snow White as inspiration for your story. Your story should reflect the tale.
If You Dare Challenge: 145. Matter of Genetics
200 Characters in 200 Days: Walburga Black
Valentine-Making Challenge: Black Ribbon – Write about Sirius
Gringotts Prompt Bank: OC Name Prompts (First Names Only): Adhara
AN: This story is based on the fairytale of Snow White and while a few key moments from the original tale made it in here, others did not. Apologies firstly for the lack of a Huntsman. Also, I did write a seven dwarves' scene for this story, but it got cut in the editing phase. It just didn't fit with the flow to introduce five new characters for the sake of fulfilling a trope, when those characters weren't doing anything for the plot. If I'd have had the time, and wasn't constrained to a one-shot by my prompts, I would have fleshed this out a lot more and perhaps made it a multi-chapter, but ah well.
Warnings: Violence & Child Abuse are running themes, but there's nothing too graphic.
Words: 3124
Black
"Walburga, I must speak with you," Orion told his wife, a troubled expression on his face.
"Yes, dear?" Walburga replied, barely looking up from this morning's Daily Prophet.
"As you know, Abraxas's sister, Miss Drusilla Malfoy, recently passed away. I have thought long and hard about this decision, and discussed it in depth with Abraxas, but a decision has been made. We will be taking her daughter, Adhara, to live with us as our ward," Orion explained.
Walburga's head shot up to look at her husband as her lips pursed, looking as if she'd sucked on a lemon.
"I beg your pardon? A bastard brat of some Malfoy living under the roof of the Noble and Ancient House of Black? Are you insane? This is absurd!" Walburga protested.
"Yes. Well. That 'bastard brat' as you so eloquently described her is not just a Malfoy. She's my daughter, Walburga, although I've never laid claim to her," Orion notified his wife, no hint of apology or guilt in his expression.
Walburga's eyebrows raised at the knowledge, and she said nothing. Her husband's infidelity was no secret to her; their marriage had not been one borne out of love. The knowledge, however, that he'd been stupid enough to risk sullying the Black family name with public knowledge of his infidelity in the form of living proof was an unforgivable misdemeanour. But Walburga knew her husband. His word was final.
Adhara stood in a mahogany panelled office, trying not to fidget as she stared at the man she'd just been informed was her father. In all of her thirteen years, her mother had insisted her father was unknown, probably dead, and a nobody at that. Within two days of her mother's passing, she was being told by her Uncle Abraxas that her father was the patriarch of one of the oldest and most esteemed Pureblood houses. Abraxas had gone on to inform her that he would do anything in his power to ensure that man stepped up to his obligations and took her under his roof, because Abraxas would be damned before he shared his own home and food with the insufferable child.
She'd never liked her Uncle anyway. She had little hopes, however, that Orion and his wife would be any better, and was happy that she was, at least, at Hogwarts for most of the year.
There was a boy stood beside her, decked out in black and green, who'd introduced himself as Regulus. She wasn't sure if she liked him or not yet. Adhara had yet to meet his mother, Walburga. She hadn't made herself available for Adhara's arrival, which Adhara didn't think boded well.
Orion cleared his throat, and Adhara snapped out of her musings, knowing it was important that she paid attention.
"Adhara, I'd like to welcome you to the House of Black. Please, treat this home as your home, too," he said, though the lack of a smile told Adhara he didn't quite mean what he said. "Now, everyone in this house knows the truth of your parentage, but the outside world does not, and we're very keen to keep it that way," he warned. "Do you understand?"
"Of course, sir," Adhara replied courteously.
"Regulus, show Adhara to her bedroom. The House Elf should have taken your belongings there ahead of you."
With a wave of a hand, the children were dismissed. Adhara followed the older boy nervously, but she couldn't hold her tongue for long. They'd made it up the first flight of stairs, far enough away from adult ears at least, before the words escaped her. "I thought there were two sons in the Black family?"
Regulus didn't turn to look at her. "There were," he answered, tonelessly.
"What happened? Did he die?" Adhara asked, intrigued and aghast.
"No, worse. He was disinherited," Regulus commented. Adhara drew in a sharp breath. It was an abstract concept to Adhara, given that she'd never been able to inherit in the first place, but it was one she understood. It was the highest form of insult among Pureblood relations. Immediately, her mind was running wild with thoughts of what he could have done. She'd seen him at school, of course, and knew he was a Gryffindor, but his school house alone couldn't have been it. She was a Ravenclaw, after all.
"Don't talk about him," Regulus added. He still wouldn't look at her, and Adhara began to wonder how recently it had happened.
They got to her room, and he showed her inside, leaving as quickly as was polite. Adhara sat on her new bed with a sigh. She considered the turn her life had taken. A father who was only acting out of obligation, a half-brother who was as moody and brooding as his surname suggested and a new stepmother who wouldn't even acknowledge her. Yeah, she thought, life here was going to be great.
Over time, Adhara did begin to get along with Regulus. They never spoke at school, of course, but at home, they learned to share jokes and stories. They had the same point of view on many things, so when Regulus took the Dark Mark, Adhara was left very confused. Their fragile friendship began to fracture as Adhara questioned him on his actions, wanting to understand. He told her she couldn't understand, not now, not ever. He tried to avoid her, and Adhara had to give in. Walburga never warmed to her, and never missed an opportunity to let her know. Adhara had more insults thrown at her in a day at home than she did in a whole year at school, but she'd learned to let them glide over her. She knew Walburga wouldn't do anything so long as Orion was on his daughter's side. Orion, for the most part, kept himself to himself and didn't bother Adhara, which she didn't mind all that much.
Today was different. Today, Adhara had to pretend she didn't exist. She could hear Walburga's wails from two floors down; she could feel their heartbreak. They'd woken up two mornings ago to find their son, Regulus, had not returned the night before. They'd solemnly entered the Tapestry Room, to check his name, to find his date of death had magically appeared. Walburga hadn't stopped crying since, not for long. There was no body to bury, but they were hosting a wake all the same. They needed to say goodbye.
Adhara was grieving, too. Grieving for the brother she'd almost had, once, before politics had torn them apart. Adhara was under strict instructions not to leave her bedroom, and not to make a noise, until the guests had gone. She couldn't help but wonder how things would change now for her, without him. She knew things would be different.
Things were different. Both Orion and Walburga were different people, shells of their former selves. If it was possible to die of heartbeak, Adhara thought she was watching it in action. They seemed to age daily, changing from fairly lively adults to elderly, frail individuals in a few short months. When Orion was found dead in his office one morning, less than a year after Regulus's passing, Adhara was hardly surprised.
She was scared. She was sixteen years old, and Orion had been her only protection. Walburga was a twisted, crude version of her former self, and Adhara knew, she just knew, she was in danger.
It was the day before her husband's funeral when Walburga turned on Adhara. Adhara had only gone downstairs to find herself some food, but Walburga's head had snapped up at Adhara's entrance into the kitchen.
"You," she said in a voice dripping with venom. Adhara stared wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights. "It's all your fault. If you hadn't come here, they'd still be alive. You've torn my family apart and you've stolen them from me!" Walburga's voice raised with every syllable, and by the end of her accusation, she was on her feet, her wand drawn. Adhara fumbled for her own wand, knowing she had it somewhere, but she was too late. "Crucio!"
The curse hit her square in the chest, and she couldn't hold in the screams. She didn't know how long Walburga kept up the torment for, but Adhara soon gave up all hopes of surviving the attack. When the pain stopped, and Adhara registered she was still breathing, fear tickled at the back of her neck as she wondered how many breaths she had left under Walburga's roof.
She had no one to turn to.
She ran upstairs, two at a time, up to her bedroom, trying to ignore the pain. She didn't know where Walburga had gone, and she didn't want to. On her way upstairs, her eyes caught sight of a room she'd never entered before, and she felt hope pounding in her chest. Sirius Black, the son who'd got out, the brother she'd never known. But where was he? She drew her wand, pointing it at the door, hoping one of the spells she knew that could be employed to unlock rooms would work.
When she heard the click, she raced in, shutting the door behind her, locking it.
Somewhere in here, she thought, there had to be something that would help her find him. She riffled through drawers, unlidded boxes, circled the room pulling on her hair. And then she saw it. Right there, on his desk. An envelope addressed to her.
She picked it up cautiously, not knowing who it was from, or what it would contain, or even why it was there.
Dear Adhara,
I hope you never find this, because if you do, it only means one thing. It means I'm dead, and my father probably is too, and you're looking for a way out. My mother's hated you since the summer she found out about you, and it's not faded with time as my father hoped it would. I dread to think what she'd do if she knew there'd be no consequences.
I can help you, I only ask that you don't divulge where you found this address. He doesn't know I ever knew it. But if you go to Sirius, if you tell him everything, he'll help you. I know him. Even after all this time, he's still my brother, and I know how he works. Don't tell him I said this, either, but he's a good man.
Keep yourself safe,
Regulus
True to his word, on the back of the letter was an address of a flat. For the last year of his life, and the year that had passed since, Adhara had thought he'd stopped caring about her. She nearly cried at the realisation of how wrong she'd been. He'd cared, he just hadn't wanted the wrong people to find out.
It didn't take her long to stuff a bag with the things she wanted to take with her. She really hadn't accumulated all that much in the time she'd been here. Her Hogwarts things were still in her trunk, so a couple of quick charms ensured it would fit in her bag and wouldn't be too heavy. Walburga still hadn't shown her face since the earlier attack, and Adhara decided there was no time like the present. She took off down the stairs and out the door into the morning sun, ready to set off across London on foot if that was what it took.
She banged on the door, burying her nerves at introducing herself to a man she'd never talked to. She didn't have time to be anxious. She needed help, and she needed sanctuary, as soon as it could be hers.
It was early afternoon now, and Adhara was vaguely aware that she hadn't eaten yet that day. She was feeling a little dizzy, but something that might have been adrenaline kept her mind clear.
When the door finally opened, Adhara was taken aback to be greeted by a woman. Blue eyes narrowed at her.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Adhara was aware that she probably looked a little crazy. She'd dressed in a hurry and hadn't brushed her hair, and she was a little out of breath from the twelve flights of stairs.
"Erm, I'm looking for Sirius?" Adhara responded.
"Yeah, I'm his girlfriend. Who are you?" The woman folded her arms, beginning to get a little annoyed.
Adhara heard a male voice call out, "Who is it?" from somewhere inside the flat.
"Some girl who won't tell me her name," the brunette called out in response.
"I'm his sister," Adhara said, and the woman arched an eyebrow. "It's a long story."
"He's not got a sister," the woman replied and began to shut the door.
"Wait!" Adhara began to protest, but a hand caught the door before it closed. The woman walked away, and a man stepped into the gap, a man who looked so much like Regulus, Adhara had to take a step back.
"Who are you again?" he asked, looking confused as he tried to put the pieces together.
"Adhara," she introduced herself. "I'm your half-sister, and I need help."
He'd seen her at school, he must have done. He must have known she was living in the Black home. He must have thought about it. She had to believe he'd thought about her, and wondered. He stared at her for a few seconds, and she stared back, realising as she did so that their eyes were the same colour.
"Come in," he said, holding the door open.
She sat in the kitchen, explaining everything she knew, Sirius and Marlene, his girlfriend, listening intently. They brought out some food and a drink for her, and she accepted it gratefully. She was still wearing her coat an hour later, her bag on the floor beside her. She felt the letter in her jeans pocket pressing against her thigh as she talked about that morning, and what Walburga had done. She wanted to respect Regulus's wishes, she did, but he was dead, and it felt less important in that moment than convincing Sirius to believe her.
He asked how she'd found him, and it only took a moment before she'd drawn the letter from her pocket and wordlessly handed it over.
The couple read the letter silently, neither of them commenting at all.
"I'll go and make up the spare room," Marlene said, offering Adhara a small smile before she left them.
"She won't reach you here. I'll do my best to make sure of it," Sirius told her, and Adhara smiled. Regulus had been right. He was a good man.
Adhara soon ascertained that Regulus had been right; Sirius was a good man. He and his friends all worked together to make Adhara feel welcome, and she never went without food. She had no way of repaying them, with no money to her name, which made her feel guilty. They all assured her it didn't matter, but all the same, Adhara did what she could. She busied herself with housework while they were out, cleaning the kitchen, doing dishes and tidying things away. She didn't even mind the work all that much; it kept her busy.
She was often home alone during the day, but she didn't mind it all too much. There was never any post for the house while she was alone, and no one ever came to the door.
Until one day there was, of course.
Adhara had been trying to understand how to use the muggle vacuum cleaner when she heard the tapping against the window. She looked up to see a bird she didn't recognise carrying a parcel – some sort of barn owl. Immediately, Adhara was on edge. Parcels were troublesome things when they weren't expected – in a world of war and magic, there was no telling what they would contain. She stepped towards the window, trying to inspect the parcel through the glass, but the moment she did so, the bird flew away. Frowning in confusion, she heard sounds coming from her bedroom not moments later. She was certain she hadn't left the window open, but all the same, the bird had made its way in.
Fear crawled its way up the back of her neck as she came to the realisation she'd have to enter the room. She couldn't leave the bird in there alone, with an open window. She'd be inviting Walburga straight back into her and Sirius's lives. She drew her wand, holding it with shaking fingers as she headed for her door. She opened the door with her left hand, tense and alert. The bird was sat on her desk, in front of the open window, looking at her. She edged towards it slowly, hoping to shoo it away.
As she reached out to frighten the bird, it did something very unexpected. Instead of flying away from her quick, threatening hand, it flew towards her, flapping its wings hard, raising up above her, and ensuring the parcel touched her. She screamed, but the second the parcel touched her, she was silent.
She was thrown back against the door with the force of the explosion. The glass in the window frame shattered outwards, the walls cracked and the wardrobe, beside her door, began to fall over. Adhara saw it, watched it as if in slow motion as it came towards her. She held out her wand, shouting out a charm to shrink the doors of the wardrobe so they would not be in her way. She curled in on herself in an attempt to avoid the structure as it fell. It landed neatly around her, for the most part, the metal bar hitting her across the head, cutting her scalp open. The wooden frame landed on her fingers of her left hand and she let out a yelp. She stayed where she was, safe from further harm, until the sounds of debris falling quietened to nothing.
Tentatively, she lifted the frame of the wardrobe, sliding out from beneath. She looked around the room, taking in the destruction, and looked at her hand. She winced at the sight, and checked her head with her other hand. Her fingers came away wet and red. She knew she needed help.
She climbed over the remains of her wardrobe and back towards the kitchen and living area. She picked up a pencil that lay on the kitchen counter, next to the notepad they used for reminders and shopping lists, and wrote a quick message for Sirius.
She staggered over to the fireplace they'd had installed, took some powder from the pot on the mantelpiece and threw it into the ever-burning flames.
"St. Mungo's!" Adhara shouted as she stepped forward.
