Out of Walburga's Hands
A/N: I own absolutely no characters or magical things you recognise in this.
The pale blue liquid swirled around his crystal goblet, reminding Alphard of the way the skirts of the young witches on the dance floor twisted around their feet. It didn't taste particularly nice, the sour taste still remnant on his tongue, considering that he estimated that the bottle of champagne it came from cost well over 80 galleons. At least nursing it in his hand allowed him to do something other than stare blankly across the ballroom as he leant against the wall.
He could see his dear sister, Walburga, leaning against a marble pillar, clutching tightly to her husband's arm as they gossiped away to a few of the more elite Pureblood witches and wizards gathered. The soft light of the crystal chandeliers above them glinted off the smooth silk of her emerald dress robes and caused the obscenely large jewels adorning her bony hands to glitter magnificently. The well-rehearsed giggle she let out only served to highlight her high cheekbones and minimal lines around her eyes. She was the picture of perfection and those around her hung onto her every word.
Alphard stared into his goblet, smiling bitterly. If only those poor witches and wizards knew what she was really like, how little she cared for her eldest son, how like a beast and bloodthirsty she was- they would not think her so charming.
~Earlier that morning~
It had been a while since he had stepped foot in Grimmauld Place; almost two years had passed since his parents had fallen to dragon pox and he had last wandered the dark hallways. Taking in the heads of house-elves lining the walls and oak cabinets full of dark artefacts, he could see how Walburga had quickly taken over the place, creating a home she thought most suitable for her family.
He could hear murmured voices from the sitting room to his left, and quickly ducked in to avoid the blank gaze of one elf head that seemed to watch his every move, its mouth parted as though it had spent its last minutes of life screaming. Lovely.
"Alphard, glad you could join us," Orion nodded from a high-backed chair before turning his eyes back to the copy of The Daily Prophet he held.
"Morning Uncle," Regulus, too, inclined his head in greeting, sleeked black locks remaining in place as he did so.
He noticed that Regulus was sitting upright in his chair, his back ram-rod straight. The twelve-year old's usual pale complexion was void of any warmth, his grey eyes lacking the usual mischievous twinkle. Taking the copy of the Prophet from his father, he flipped to the business section and began devouring the contents that compared cauldron prices and the value of Goblin-made silverware. A year and a half at Hogwarts, Alphard could see, had changed his nephew; the boy he had grown to love would have flipped immediately to the comics about Arthur Pendragon's Adventures with the the Trolls of Isengard.
"Good morning. Sirius not joining us?"
Alphard took a seat on the nearest longue, fluffing up a pillow with his wand as he tried to rid the chair of its stiffness. Neither male appeared to hear his question as both continued to trail their eyes over the printed letters. Orion gave a slight cough, however, and loudly clinked the china tea cup he now held against its equally fine saucer.
A small fire crackled, its warmth barely reaching the corners of the large room, much less reducing the bite of the cold winter winds seeping in through hidden cracks of the large closed windows facing the gardens. A small clock on the mantel piece alerted them to the passing of nine o'clock; it's ticking filling the air in place of any conversation. As if on cue, Walburga came striding into the room, wiping a sticky purple and red substance from her nails onto a satin handkerchief.
"Ah, Alphard, late as usual. Never mind getting up now, just as well I decided to finish that nasty task. Wretched creatures, always dying at the most inconvenient of times. Who did it think I would get to serve the drinks this evening?"
Walburga sauntered up to him, placing a kiss on either of his cheeks in greeting. Her long talons left crescent-shaped marks in his skin as she grasped his arms in the process, yet she was already moving towards her own high-backed chair before he could complain. Eyeing the knife she pulled out, the same sticky purple-red coating its sharpened silver blade, to clean, it was probably for the best that he didn't.
"Still decapitating the help, I see?"
"Of course, do you expect me to just leave their filthy decaying bodies around the place?" she raised a delicate eyebrow at him questioningly, evidently finding the idea that stuffing elves was a perfectly natural activity for ladies.
Tactfully deciding not to comment on her choice of behaviour, he tried to shift the attention to Regulus who was eying his mother warily.
"Enjoying school then Regulus? Good old Slughorn treating you well?"
"Yes, uncle, it is good to be in Slytherin. In fact, Professor Slughorn has asked-"
"Yes, yes, Regulus is doing us very proud," Walburga allowed an unnaturally large smile to grace her thin lips as she looked upon her son before fixing her steely gaze back upon Alphard. "But we have more pressing issues to deal with. I didn't summon you here for meaningless chit-chat, you know."
"No, I don't suppose you did. What is it then?"
Walburga sniffed before carefully placing the knife onto the gleaming table next to her. Leaning forward so that her styled bun shifted slightly atop her head, she pursed her lips.
"I don't appreciate your tone, Alphard, not to me. Now, as you know, tonight I will be hosting the Black Family's annual Christmas Eve ball-"
"Yes, I was surprised to receive your invitation in the post."
Fixing him with an icy glare, she silenced his interruption. "-that the crème de la crème of wizarding society will attend. Now, the last four years have been quite an embarrassment," Walburga shivered at the thought, a frown marring her smooth features, "and I do not care to repeat last year's incident."
Alphard tried in vain to hide the snide smile that threatened to show on his face. Although he had been 'accidentally' left from the guest list, he had heard from the few Slytherin boys he still kept in touch with what had happened. Sirius, his dear nephew, had taken it upon himself to make a grand entrance. Ordering the hired orchestra to play a particularly upbeat tune, he had descended the ballroom's grand staircase in a brilliant show of sparkling red and gold robes, a roaring lion emblazoned onto the left lapel of his cloak. The boy was more cunning than any Slytherin he knew, and he only wished that he could have been there to see it.
Walburga was too busy still shuddering to know that his attention had momentarily slipped. He could see her jaw working furiously, her teeth grinding as she tried to continue with mention of her first-born son.
"The rotten boy may have gotten himself into… Gryffindor… but I will not have him messing up this year. That is why I am imploring for your help Alphard. For some reason, though I cannot think why, Sirius seems to listen to your advice."
From his seat, Orion took another swig of his tea, listening to the conversation intently. His sharp blue eyes focused on his wife, and every now and then he nodded in approval of everything that she said. Currently, as Walburga rolled her eyes upwards, Orion shook his head, his dislike for his son's choices evident in the way he pinched his nose with his forefingers in annoyance.
"I want you to keep a close eye on him tonight, to guide him in the right direction. Perhaps if you introduce him to a few distinguished guests he'll learn how to behave himself like a proper wizard."
"I see."
"I mean, how hard can it really be? Is it not in his blood for him to act like a gentleman? To display grace and poise? Regulus, my handsome boy, he knows what's good for him, and he's only in his second year of education," Walburga's eyes flashed menacingly, and he could see that she was working herself up into a flap.
Orion shifted slightly to grasp her left hand, subtly reminding her to remain composed. It seemed to have the desired effect and she took a few deep breaths. Though it was still quivering slightly, she raised her chin and snapped her right hand fingers in the air.
"Pip, Pip! Where are you, you deplorable little elf?"
A house-elf dressed in a potato sack had appeared the moment Walburga had summoned it, its ears flapping nervously and eyes shining bright. Standing as far as she could from her mistress's reach, she gave a low bow, her legs shaky underneath her.
"You called for Petal miss?"
Walburga sniffed dismissively, her eyes turning back to Alphard.
"Let me show you, Alphard, what proper breeding should be like. Regulus seems to have learnt well," turning to her son, who had already stood up and withdrawn his wand without further instruction, she tilted her head. "Go on; show him what your brother should know."
Regulus' Adam's Apple bobbed as he gulped, but he obediently raised his wand. Pointing it to the frightened elf who stood blinking up at her masters uncertainly, he artfully swished it in a loop.
"Incarcerous!"
The elf gave a high-pitched squeal as thick ropes flew from Regulus' wand tip and encircled her weak form, biting into skin slightly. She struggled slightly, small hands working furiously to loosen the rope's threads. Yellow eyes bulged out, making them larger than the already tennis-ball size they were. She stood on her green toes, trying to dance away, but it only caused her to topple over.
"Tighter dear! I want to see the rope cutting into her flesh!"
Alphard grimaced, more than tempted to cover his ears from Petal's shrieks of terror as she writhed on the floor. Although he knew house-elves were far beneath his kind, he did not think the poor brutes deserved to be tortured, not if they did the tasks requested of them.
Nevertheless, he stood watching the poor creature struggle to stand, her trembling form growing still as red marks began to appear over her body. It didn't last too much longer, and with a barely shaking hand, Regulus lifted the curse and the cords disappeared into thin air.
"Clever boy, clever boy! Such an advanced spell for your age, you did well," Walburga clapped her hands together in glee as she pressed a kiss to her son's forehead.
Regulus did not look at his mother, his chest heaving gently as he stared at what must have been a fascinating patch of jade carpet. Both ignored the house-elf as she scampered away, whimpering, Orion aiming a kick at her backside as she passed him.
"He could do with more practice, I think," Orion muttered, wiping the tip of his shoe that had touched the elf with a look of disgust.
Walburga rolled her eyes, patting Regulus on the shoulder in admiration. "Before long you'll be able to perform the Unforgivables, I know it. Crucio, of course, is much more effective in drawing out a scream or two, but we can wait for it, I suppose; wouldn't want you caught doing anything illegal now," Walburga looked pointedly at Alphard, daring him to report her son's actions to the Aurors. She had never forgiven him, it seemed, for always telling his mother about her misdeeds when growing up. Brushing off some invisible dust from Regulus' shirt front, she continued, "besides, that elf is unbearably deafening for my liking."
The expression on Walburga's face made her look as though she had just swallowed a goblet of crushed ear-wax, toe-jam and spinach Every Flavoured Beans, and once again, Alphard found the smile threatening to show on his face. Unfortunately, she caught his look of joy at her discomfort, and snapped back into her usual demanding demeanour.
"Now, I don't expect Sirius will be quite as capable of learning these skills, Merlin knows what they teach him in his classes full of blood-traitors and Mudbloods, but I do believe that some good company will help. If he can't fit in, so help me, I don't know what I'll do with him. You will make him understand the importance of keeping only Purebloods in his social circle tonight, won't you?"
It was more a statement than a question; her fierce glare was unwavering as she sat back down into her chair. Reaching for the knife she had placed down, she began to test its sharpness against the tip of her finger, tiny ruby droplets forming on her skin. If nothing else than to escape her insanity, Alphard reluctantly agreed that he would help.
~Back to hell... uh, the present~
Classical music filled the sparse room, and couples continued to chatter amicably. Goblets clinked as people toasted to their wealth, and to their ignorance, as his eyes once more roamed the ballroom.
His sister was now talking to Abraxus Malfoy, her face blushing endearingly as his remained stoic. His black cane held him upright as his wife twirled around the room gracefully in the arms of another dozen men. It didn't seem to bother him, however, as he listened intently to the conversation, looking to their younger acquaintance, Tom Riddle, every now and then.
Alphard didn't trust either of the men. Both had attended Hogwarts at the same time as he had; and both had been more competitive than anyone else in their house. Although their wits were sharp and pockets full, neither could really hold a conversation that did not involve discussing the best way of poisoning an enemy or making a profit from other's failings. They all had ambition, but theirs seemed to be of the more sinister sort.
Nevertheless, Abraxus was a Pureblood and had brought his graduate son, Lucius, along to the gathering. Being one of the few 'children' deemed suitable enough by Walburga to attend such a grand event, the blond seemed a good enough candidate to help him fulfil his 'duty'.
Suddenly wishing that he had more of the potent drink in his hand, he gulped the last drops down, its taste scorching his throat as it entered his system- anything to help him endure the conversation he was about to enter that would be mundane enough to lull a roaring dragon to sleep. He strolled forward towards the gathered adults, reaching a hand out as he did so and grabbing his protesting nephew by the scruff of his collar. Sirius had been lurking around the dance floor, his robes the desired green but his hair purposefully scruffy.
Walburga looked as though she had been sucking a lemon when she spotted her son's lack of grooming, but smiled approvingly all the same as she understood Alphard's intentions. Tapping both Tom and Abraxus' shoulders, she steered them away, Orion on toe, so that Lucius and Sirius could be introduced in some privacy.
"Mr Malfoy, this is Lady Black's son, Sirius. Sirius, this is Lucius."
Even before the words had parted his mouth he knew the conversation wasn't going to go anywhere. Sirius was staring at the blond, a smirk twisting upon his face, as Lucius refused to look at him. Instead, the boy extended a hand to Alphard to shake.
"I do believe I have had the… pleasure, of making Sirius' acquaintance in my final year at Hogwarts," just like his father's, Lucius' voice was silky and smooth, rolling off his tongue easily.
It made him want to punch the git's face, but he remained smiling. He nudged Sirius to say hello, but it seemed the youth was one step ahead of him.
"Yeah, you were the prat Snivellus used to suck up to," a wolfish grin was plastered on his face as he blinked at the blond innocently. "I heard you were interested in my cousin Cissy. Good luck with her mate."
Trying to save face, Alphard corrected his nephew. "You'll find that Slytherins try to look out for each other, and I'm sure Narcissa will be happy to know she's caught his attention. Now, Lucius, why don't you tell Sirius about your line of work? With only a few more years of Hogwarts, I thought perhaps it would be a great idea for him to explore his options."
Lucius looked as though he wanted to do anything but that, but cleared his throat. "I followed my father-"
Without delay, Sirius began to yawn loudly, reaching his arms up to the sky. He was making it harder than it had to be, and Alphard had the inkling that he knew what Walburga was up to in arranging friendships for him. She was watching them now, her lips in their infamous pursed position.
"-my father into the family business. We make over three billion galleons profit every year-" Lucius continued, his patience already wearing thin.
"Quite a feat, don't you think so, Sirius?"
"Hmm? Oh sorry, wasn't listening."
His nephew was now twisting a finger in his ear, testing for wax. He must have found some for as he took his finger away and inspected it, he flicked something away. His mother's disgust seemed to be spurring him on. The more her face turned red as she looked on and the more she squashed the canapé she was holding, her knuckles turning white from the pressure and raw fish squeezing between them, the wider Sirius' smile grew. His eyes sparkled mirthfully and he continued to give Alphard more reasons to make excuses for his behaviour.
"I guess one can't expect the untrained to understand these things, can we? Perhaps a career in the post business will suit you more, or maybe a job at the Hogshead, serving butter beer?"
Lucius' voice had grown cold, as had Alphard's tolerance of the boy. Sirius might have been making him cringe, but the air of superiority the young Malfoy held was unnecessary; his father's earnings had come at the cost of many hard-working wizards, and certainly did not make him better than anyone else. The blond was struggling to remain calm and indifferent as a vain throbbed in his temple. Alphard was sure that if he wasn't standing there, and that other party guests weren't now whispering about the Black son's barbaric behaviour, Lucius would've taken a swing at his nephew.
Sirius, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying his evening.
"Sorry, got distracted again. You were offering me a job? Darn, hold on, dropped a bit of pumpkin pasty in my pants," to the horror of both Lucius and Alphard, Sirius began to drag a hand towards his trousers.
Alphard sighed heavily, grabbing onto his arm and pinning it behind his back. Shooting an apologetic look at Lucius, though he didn't really deserve it, he pulled Sirius back slightly.
Walburga was shooting murderous glances towards them as Orion and Abraxus pretended to continue their discussion, the latter's smirk barely hidden. Regulus had joined them, his suit tailored just so to give him an air of finesse; he was hanging onto every word the men offered, though at twelve probably missed their meaning. Tom, on the other hand, appeared to be appraising Sirius, his head tilted to one side. His dark eyes were unfathomable, sending an unexplainable chill down Alphard's spine.
He knew that had to save this evening, to get Sirius away from the grasp of his mother's circle without irking her further. No matter his life at home, he knew there was no way he would allow his nephew to turn out like one of them, as Regulus seemed to now be. Pretending the whole introduction with Lucius was a joke, he tried to fix things.
"Come now Sirius, the bet is off, you win. I do apologise Lucius, I should have warned you beforehand. You see, Sirius and I had a bet that he could not help but behave as a proper Pureblood tonight. His friends, uh, have been less than understanding about his etiquette of late, Gryffindors you know, no manners, and Sirius wanted to prove that it was easier to be vulgar than proper, so uh, his friends wouldn't think they could escape their place in society. Perhaps not the best place to experiment, I'm afraid you've fallen victim to it, but the cheeky lad appears to have cunningly tricked me into winning by, well, by, using such an unexpected and daring event as this for it."
The lie was awful; it had not slipped off his tongue easily, despite his usual brilliance at deception throughout his life. Thankfully, however, Lucius played along and his face fell back into its usual non-chalant mask. Proffering his hand to Sirius to shake it, his nose scrunching slightly as Sirius presented the hand that had dithered into his pants, he smirked.
"Congratulations then Black, you do make a fine example of how a Mudblood, or blood-traitor, is supposed to act. You certainly had me fooled."
Swishing his shoulder-length hair to the side, he nodded politely at Alphard and glided over to his father, smirk still in place. He watched the group as Abraxus smiled at Walburga, evidently praising her for her ability to bring up not one, but two, fine sons. Her face was still flustered, but she gladly gave the impression of accepting it, motioning for them to enjoy another glass of champagne.
Alphard quickly ushered Sirius to the corner, sending him a withering look. That had been a close one. The boy simply winked at him, however, and seeing his mother approaching their spot, lilted away, possibly to cause more trouble elsewhere.
"If you think, even for one moment, that I'm happy with this, you're wrong," Walburga seethed, pushing Orion ahead of her to entertain the men.
"It went well, didn't it? Sirius and Lucius hit it off."
She sent him a scornful look in response before hitching up her skirts and hurrying after her prized guests. Alphard knew she had more to say to him and promised himself to gather his things he had left behind at Grimmauld Place well before dawn. At least his nephew was safe for now; he'd have to return next year, invite or not, to make sure he remained off the wall along with house elves.
/N: This is my last entry for the Diagon Alley II forum's New Years Eve Battle (round six). The battle has concluded with a surprise round from the Tom Riddle era. Now, I will not pretend that this work is my best, though I do hope The Order pull off a win! My excuse tonight for this unbeta'd and sloppy (though I hope not too sloppy) piece is that I have to write four fics in less than two weeks (weekends actually, as I really shouldn't be on the computer or any screen) for competitions. Hopefully when I find time I will be able to fix this, make the ending better and have the characters more in line (though in my defence I have no idea that Alphard existed really, and what he was like apart from giving Sirius his possessions/ money after his death; and I had a lot of fun once more making Walburga sadistic… go check out my fic 'Sacrifice' if you want more gore…).
As usual, this round had prompts, and were as follows:
Dialogue Prompts: You may choose one.
"If you think, even for one moment, that I'm happy with this, you're wrong." 3
Character Prompts: You may choose four.
1. Tom Marvolo Riddle 5 [You cannot choose any Pairing Prompts with him in it]
3. Alphard Black 4 [Plus 1 Spell Prompt if you mention him helping Sirius]
6. Walburga Black 3 [Plus 1 Extra Prompt of 2p if you mention decapitating House-elves]
7. Abraxas Malfoy 2 [Negates a condition on any prompt if you bring in Lucius]
Pairing Prompts: You may choose one. Pairings can be platonic/romantic/unrequited/love-hate but not friendship.
5. Walburga Black/Orion Black 3
Extra Prompts: You may choose 1 if 3p, 2 if 2p and 3 if 1p. [p = points]
(phrase) in my pants 2
(phrase) like a beast 2
(season) Winter (extra for including character Walburga)
Spell Prompts: You may choose one.
4. Crucio 1
3. Incarcerous 1 (extra for having Alphard help Sirius)
Theme: Each for 10 points.
1. Pre-Wizarding War I [No Dialogue Prompts] (negated with character Abraxus/ Lucius brought in)
Total: 38 points
Word count: 3759 words
Nevertheless, thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope it was somewhat enjoyable!