Written for Hogwarts Music Club

Prompt Used: Creep by Radiohead

(word) perfect
(word) special

Walburga/Orion

oOo

1931

"I'm going to marry Orion, Mother," the naive words of a six year old child float out of my mouth, as I look into the cot, where my sleeping toddler of a cousin lies. "He's my favourite cousin."

My mother and Aunt Melania chuckle delightedly, politely placing their hands over their mouths. "Hush now, Walburga," Mother tells me. "You'll wake Orion."

I gaze into the crib, silently obeying my mother, and smiling at my perfect cousin.

1936

Leaving Orion at King's Cross Station is the hardest part of going to Hogwarts. Mother, Father and Aunt Melania are there to wish me goodbye on my journey too, but I could care less about their involvement. I cling to Orion, pressing my mouth to his hair and blinking back tears furiously.

Lucretia, my other cousin, stands beside me and tugs on my arm. "Let's go, Walburga," she hisses, desperate to jump onto the crimson steam engine that puffs beside us. Finally, I pull myself away from Orion, gazing down into his tear-filled eyes.

"Don't worry, Orion. You'll be at Hogwarts with me very soon."

"That's a lie," he sniffs, folding his arms. "I have ages to wait."

As Lucretia drags me onto the train, I wave my fingers at Orion. "I'll write to you every day!"

1940

I'm in my fifth year of Hogwarts when Orion finally joins the line of first years, ready to be sorted into a house.

Even though I know perfectly well which house he will end up in, I still find myself crossing my fingers hopefully under the desk.

The hat barely touches his head when it begins to speak.

"Another one of you Black children? My, my...Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table goes into uproar, but none scream louder than me as Orion walks over to the table, grinning brightly.

1945

It's Christmas when I make my first mistake.

Orion is just fifteen, and I have long since left Hogwarts, at the ripe age of twenty. Watching Orion age and mature into a young man is difficult and confusing. Father is always looking for potential suitors for me to marry.

But I have no interest in every Avery, Lestrange and Bulstrode that Father brings to the door. I don't care to dine with the Malfoy boy, nor Crabbe or Goyle.

I have my sights set on Orion; on the sharp jawline that I can so easily recognise in myself, in his dark, glittering eyes, and in his long, thick hair.

While we are privately swapping gifts during Christmas Eve, in the bedroom we always share when they come to spend Christmas at Grimmauld Place, I brandish the sprig of mistletoe that I have been hiding in the pocket of my dress robes, and hold it above our heads.

For a moment Orion smiles and sniggers, as if it's a joke. But when I do not place the mistletoe back into my pocket, he awkwardly leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek.

It isn't enough for me. My heart swoops at the contact, and I drop the mistletoe, snatching his head greedily between my hands, and capturing his lips between mine.

And it's like every star and constellation that our family was named for have aligned and are raining down on us; surrounding our clumsy first kiss in a twinkling shower. I hear oceans crashing in my brain, washing out every ill thought and confused issue that I had battled over.

But when I pull away, smiling brightly at Orion, his is not returned. A look of confusion is spread across his face, and his eyes are wide.

1948

I have taken Orion for a celebratory drink at the Hog's Head after his graduation from Hogwarts.

Things have been awkward for us since I made a move during that fateful Christmas, but my feelings have not changed.

I have spent every waking hour nursing a new sickness; a desperation to become one with Orion, with the cousin that I have always deemed so special.

And tonight was the night to seal the deal.

I'm purchasing our drinks from the bearded bartender, but before I take them back over to the table, I slip something into Orion's glass. The tablet dissolves, and I give the glass a shake to speed up the process. By the time I have returned to the table, it looks no different.

Within the hour, Orion is groggy and unresponsive. He is slurring his words, swearing loudly, and the bartender shouts for me to take him out. I am more than happy to oblige; standing up and pulling my cousin to his feet.

I drag him to the door, and as we settle outside, he already begins to fall asleep.

I know that he won't remain awake during the journey home. I have to act quick.

I pull him into an alleyway just alongside the Hog's Head, and lay him on the floor. I'm acting before I can even contemplate my actions; pulling his belt open and exposing his modesty. It would only take minutes.

I hitch up my skirts and straddle my cousin, and the world stops.

Orion might be half asleep and completely unresponsive to my actions, but it doesn't matter. I can feel every inch of his love and affection, whether or not he really feels it, and the sensation fills me up.

1949

"I'm pregnant," I announce to Orion.

He is disgusted. He hates me for what I did to him. We have barely spoke since I committed the act, but I pretend that his ignorance isn't real.

We are happy, in the back of my mind. We love each other.

In the presence of my father, Orion begrudgingly forces himself down onto one knee.

"Walburga Black, would you do the honour of being my wife?" he asks, his dark eyes brimming with hatred.

I throw myself at him, smothering his limp body in kisses. "I will," I hiss delightedly.

oOo

As I lay in bed during the night, a storm is crashing loudly outside. I like to think that the storm a celebration of me; a celebration of what I've achieved.

Storms are selfish. They take everything away from people, and leave nothing but destruction in their trail.

"You're crazy," Orion sobs beside me, an innocent young boy who has been dragged into a life that might just kill him.

I guess I am like a storm. I selfishly take the love and affection that I think I deserve, and give back nothing but pain.