King and Lionheart

Written by: Adventure-Seeking-Juliet

For: Round Eight of the QLFC. I was prompted to write a fic about Dorea Black, and I chose the following optional prompts: Dialogue: "That's not what you said last night" and
"Before I die, I want to be somebody's favorite hiding place." – Andrea Gibson. My team, the Kenmare Kestrals, also decided to incorporate an all-team prompt, so each of us mention the Black tapestry, at least once.

A/N Dorea Black was a Slytherin at heart. She loved one Gryffindor, and married another.

The man sat back in his armchair, and relaxed into the supple leather with a sigh. He was just starting to doze off, when the sound of muffled whispering jarred him back into consciousness.

He grunted, "What do you two little gnomes want now?"

There was a muffled giggle, then one of the two whisperers stood up, "Uncle, we're not gnomes!" The little girl was barely seven, but despite her age, she managed to glare at her uncle with surprising intensity.

The girl's uncle chuckled, trying to ignore the terrible sensation to cough instead, "To me, you're all gnomes."

The boy was the second to stand. He and the girl were twins, though they didn't look much alike, "Papa said you'd tell us a story."

Their uncle frowned, "Did he now? Well, your papa is barmy if he thinks I-"

"Please?!" The twins whined, in unison.

He wanted to say no, but one look at their sad little faces changed his mind. "Fine," He snapped, "I'll tell you a story. I know a good one, too."

He paused dramatically, "It's the story of... the Potters."

Both of the children made annoyed faces, and the girl looked especially annoyed, "I'm so tired of that one. Everyone knows that story."

"Not those Potters," their Uncle explained, a bit huffily, "You don't know these Potters. They're story is old now; too old for your generation to remember."

"Let's hear it then," the girl replied, pursing her lips slightly.

"Alright, alright. Don't get your knickers in a twist. A long time ago," he paused to cough, "back when I went to Hogwarts, there was this bloke, named Charlus."

"What kind of a name is that?" The boy asked, "Don't you mean Charles?"

"No," their uncle snapped, "I mean Charlus. Do you want me to tell the story or not?"

The girl glared at her brother, "Go on, uncle."

"That's what I thought," He paused, scratching his chin as he thought of what to say next, "And there was this girl, a witch named Dorea Black." He sat up in his armchair, and reached for an old, dust covered framed photograph on his desk. With a little bit of effort, he rubbed some of the dirt off.

There were three people in the picture. One, a tall, arrogant looking boy with messy, dark hair, had his arm slung around the shoulders of another, slightly shorter, boy. Both were dressed in Gryffindor robes, and surprisingly, to the right of them, stood a young woman who wore a Slytherin scarf around her slender neck. She was almost as tall as the boys, but her eyes were gray and hard like flint.

Their uncle pointed to the taller boy, "That's Charlus," then he pointed to the girl, "and that's Dorea."

"Who's the boy in the middle?" the girl asked, "You didn't mention him."

Their uncle rolled his eyes, "That me, of course." He flipped the paper over, so he could show them the inscription on the back:

Charlus, Walter, and Dorea. 1936

"I utterly loathe him, Walt," Dorea said, slamming her books down on the table, "He's insufferable."

Walter rolled his eyes, "You just have to give him a chance. You know how those stuck-up pure-bloods are." He smirked at his best friend, enjoying her gasp of shocked indignation.

"I don't know why I put up with you," She whispered, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. Walt grinned, and pulled her onto his lap. He deepened the kiss, but just as he was about to wrap his fingers in Dorea's hair, she pulled away.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

Dorea was glancing around nervously, "You can't just do that in public. If anyone saw-"

Walter groaned, "Who cares? It's not like your family would disown you."

Dorea fixed him with a steely look, "Yes. They would."

Walter groaned, "I don't understand your family. What's with them?"

"It's just the way they are, Walt. You're a muggle-born. They believe we should keep the Black bloodline pure," She explained, crinkling her nose on the last word, "They would never accept us being... together."

"Then, we just keep it a secret," Walter said, straining to smile, "That's all. We can do that."

Dorea nodded, "Of course, but for how long?"

Walter shrugged, pulling her back into his arms, "We'll figure it out."

"They almost saw something," Dorea whispered, her eyes wide. Her shirt top was unbuttoned and her curly, blonde hair was in disarray, but Walter didn't think he'd ever seen anything so beautiful.

He sighed, "Calm down, it's alright. They didn't see anything."

She shook her head, "But they were so close..."

Walt tried to pull her back into his arms, but she pushed him away, "No. We can't do this anymore. It's not safe."

She was crying now, and despite himself, Walt reached for her again, "Dory, please-"

She pushed him back again, then angrily wiped the tears from her face, "You don't understand."

"I would, if you'd just explain it me," Walter snapped, "I'm sorry that I'm a mud-blood and I can't possible understand why you're so fucking ashamed of me."

"Don't call yourself that," She demanded, "I could never be ashamed of you, but I can't upset my family. I won't"

He was silent for a moment, "But you said we could hide it. You said we could be a secret."

"Yes, but now they're getting suspicious." She wiped more tears from her face.

"If only there was some way for us to-" Walter paused, "Wait. Merlin's beard, Dory, I got it!"

"Got what?" She asked, shocked by his sudden excitement.

"Charlus, he's my friend...and a pure-blood. You could convince your family you're dating him, but secretly-"

Dorea groaned, "No, definitely not. We can't stand each other."

"It would all be fake," Walter said, pointedly, "And we could even hang out together in public, because Charlus is my best mate."

Dorea seemed to brighten a little bit at his words, "This...could work, actually," She wrapped her arms around Walter's neck, "You're a bloody genius, Walter Wilson."

"Marry me, Dorea."

Walter kissed his way down her neck, "Please?"

Dorea laughed, "Walt! How could we ever do that? My parents-"

"Will never have to know," He said, "We'll run away. To Bulgaria."

"Bulgaria?" She laughed, "Why there?"

"Because, we can own a dragon ranch there," He said, chuckling, "and name all of the fire-breathing crazies after your family."

Her eyes glittered, "Oh, I see. And, will we be taking Charlus with us?"

Walt burst into a fit of laughter, "Only so he can clean the stables for us."

They spent the night under the stars, dreaming about a future that could never be.

"What is this, Dorea?" Walter demanded, his eyes hard and cold, "You can't seriously be thinking about marrying Charlus!"

She couldn't look at him. She kept her eyes, so gray and bleak, on the ground, "I didn't expect you to understand, Walter."

"Understand? How can anyone understand? You said you loved me."

Tears were openly streaming down her face now, "I could never love a mud-blood."

Walter was shocked into silence.

"I-it's your parents, isn't it? They found out about us, somehow. Dorea-"

She shied away from his touch, "Just go. This is it, Walter. This is the end."

"How can you say that? After all the shit we've been through..."

Dorea sighed, "They were going to blast me off the tapestry, Walt. I have to do this."

"No," He said, "You chose this."

Walter left the room quietly, and despite the intense desire to turn around, he didn't look back. Not even once.

"So, what did happen to them, uncle?" the girl asked.

Uncle Walt had explained the nature of their early marriage, their relation to the famous Chosen One, Harry Potter, but he never explained the picture. He couldn't, not without explaining everything.

"Well, you see, it came out during the first war. According the papers, Dorea, Charlus, and their son were murdered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"But why?" The boy asked, "I thought the Blacks supported Voldemort."

"Most of them did," Walt said, quietly, "But in the end, Dorea didn't. She and Charlus were harboring muggle-borns and members of the Order of the Phoenix in their home. The papers never printed it, of course, but when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named found out, he murdered all three of them, along with the people they'd been protecting."

The twins looked highly upset, "But didn't anyone ever find out?"

Walt smiled, sadly, "No. There was no real proof. Dorea Potter's name still gleams proudly on the Black Family Tapestry."

A/N Sorry for any mistakes, I wrote this fairly quickly. The title was inspired by the song of the same name.