A/N: For J.F.C., as part of GGE 2014. Thank you so much for this little plot bunny. It was fun to write.
I.
It's childish, and she knows it. But she doesn't care. Walburga is still young, and she's still allowed to be childish. Just this once, because now, more than ever, she needs the escape.
She cannot marry Orion, even if it is her duty as a Black. She is still young. She wants, needs something more, just for now.
And so she runs without really knowing where she wants to go. Anywhere but home. Anywhere but that place where her parents are beaming with joy that their precious daughter will bring honor to the family.
In her rush, her feet slip from beneath her, and she crashes to the ground. Only when she tries to pull herself up, eyes stinging with tears at the pain in her ankle, does she realize that she's in dangerous, unfamiliar territory. The Muggle world.
"All right, love?" someone calls, and strong hands find her shoulders, lifting her gently.
"Get your filthy hands off me," she hisses, wobbling as she comes face to face with a man with messy brown hair and piercing grey eyes.
Muggle or not, he is gorgeous. Walburga feels heat flood through her cheeks.
"Sorry. Did I scare you?" he asks, quickly stepping back and stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Walburga sniffs, holding her head high and proud. "It would more than a bloody Muggle to scare me," she says.
He laughs. Walburga doesn't know what's so funny, and her blush only burns deeper.
"Sorry. Way you were running, I thought maybe all the demons in Hell were chasing you," he says, composing himself, though his smile still remains. "I'm Ethan."
"Walburga."
"Funny name."
She scowls. "No, it isn't."
She secretly agrees. She's always hated her name. But she'll be damned if she agrees with a Muggle.
"Come on. Let's get your ankle looked at. Maybe get a cup of tea," he says, stepping closer.
Though everything in her upbringing screams at her to walk away, to go home and forget this man, to run into Orion's arms, she nods.
..
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ethan asks the next morning as he carries her breakfast on a tray.
"Are you a servant?"
He snorts, shaking his head. "No. Why do you ask?"
"I've only ever seen servants carry food," she answers, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.
"Really? You have servants?"
"Don't you?"
Ethan gapes at her as he climbs into bed beside her, balancing the tray carefully on his lap. "My father was a farmer. We grew our own food, cooked it, did everything ourselves."
Her nose wrinkles. The thought of living in such a way almost sickens her. Almost. The sight of the eggs and toast quickly restore her appetite. She digs in, no longer caring about her upbringing and being tidy and proper. She eats as though it might be the last time she'll see food.
"Easy," he warns. "You'll make yourself sick."
But she doesn't care.
..
"Do you have to go?" Ethan asks.
Walburga wants to say no. Here, she is free. She can forget herself and her duties. She can become whatever she wants, and not what is expected of her. But it's just a fallacy in her head. "Afraid so," she says grimly, leaning in and kissing him.
Part of her wonders if kissing Orion would ever feel so natural, as easy breathing.
"You'll come back, won't you?"
Walburga knows that she ought to never return. But she nods.
..
"Where have you been?" her father demands. "It's been two weeks!"
"I lost track of time," she mumbles.
He grabs her firmly by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Do you have any idea what people have been saying, Walburga? The shame you're bringing on our family?"
"I'm sorry, Father. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't, girl."
But she knows that it will.
II.
"I was starting to worry you'd forgotten about me," Ethan teases, leaning against the door frame with a grin. "A month and not a word."
Walburga hesitates, excuses on the tip of her tongue. But she doesn't let them fall. "I could never forget about you," she whispers, falling into his arms.
..
"Where do you go at night?" Cygnus asks. "Not running off to shag Orion, are you?"
Walburga glares and shoves past her brother.
"Shagging before your wedding night. Shame on you, Wally."
"Shut it, or I will hex your mouth shut," she growls before storming up the stairs.
..
She stands perfectly straight, head high and eyes straight ahead as the elves work on her wedding gown. She wishes she could send them away. She has no desire to ever walk down the aisle in this thing- or anything, for that matter. But she has to play her part as the faithful daughter.
"Mistress is beautiful," one of the elves chimes, tiny hands guiding Walburga to the mirror.
She stares at her reflection, her stomach sour. Yes, she is beautiful. The gown, though incomplete, is beyond anything she could ever dream. But the sight of herself dressed in white, a bride to be, makes her want to smash the mirror into a thousand shards.
"That's enough for the day," she snaps turning away before she can act on her impulses.
..
"What's gotten into you?" Ethan laughs as she pushes him onto the bed and climbs on top.
She doesn't answer, only crushes her lips against his, silencing any further questions.
"Walburga," he murmurs.
"Shut up," she groans, pushing up her dress and pulling him so that she is beneath him. "Just shut up and make love to me."
His eyes widen, finding hers as though asking if she's sure. She moves her hands to his chest, fingers lightly dragging over his shirt.
"Please, Ethan."
She wants to know what it's like to be intimate with someone she loves. She will never feel that with Orion. This is her only chance.
He leans down, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss as he pulls away his trousers.
III.
She pulls herself up from the toilet, groaning as she wipes traces of vomit from her mouth. Her insides are all in knots.
"Not pregnant, are you?" Cygnus teases as she walks back into the hallway. "Merlin, I could hear you in my room."
"Shut up! It's just a bug," she snaps.
..
The Healer smiles a little too brightly for her liking. Walburga already knows the results before she opens her mouth. "You are most certainly pregnant, dear."
Her heartbeat quickens. Pregnant.
Her hand falls to her stomach as though trying to touch the little life within.
Pregnant. A hint of a smile tugs at her lips. Maybe it isn't such a bad thing, after all.
..
"Run away with me," she says.
"What?"
"Let's run away. Leave this bloody dreary place behind. Get a place of our own and settle down."
Ethan runs a hand through his hair, eyes fixed upon her. "Where's this coming from?"
Walburga takes his hand, guiding it to her stomach. "It's yours. Ours," she says softly. "We're having a baby."
She waits for him to smile, to kiss her, something, anything. But Ethan only stares at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
"Say something, Ethan."
"I can't- We- No."
"Ethan?"
"I can't have a baby. I-I'm not ready," he says, shaking his head and backing away like she might give him the plague.
"I thought you loved me."
"I never said that," he says quickly. "There's a difference between love and affection."
Tears sting her eyes, and she blinks rapidly. She cannot cry. She is a Black. She is too strong, too proud.
"You should leave," he adds.
Walburga can't bring herself to move.
"Really, leave," he says again, pushing her towards the door.
She draws her wand, jabbing it roughly into his chest. So many curses flicker through her mind. All she would have to do is say them.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She can't. The first tear falls, and more follow. She loves him. She can't hurt him.
IV.
"Marry me."
Orion chuckles. "I thought we were already engaged, Walburga."
She doesn't return his good humor. "Right now. Marry me."
"What's the rush?"
"Marry me."
..
She pretends to be just as shocked as he is when she tells him the news. "We're having a baby, dear."
There is no warmth in her tone this time, no happiness or hope. The thing growing inside of her is no longer a blessing that could make everything right. It is a parasite, a hateful reminder of why Muggles should never be trusted.
Orion pulls her closer, placing his hand on her stomach. "Excellent news!"
..
Walburga holds the baby, watching him curiously. Sirius looks so much like a Black. Perhaps she can pretend. She might even grow to tolerate the child.
But then his eyes open, and she sees the familiar grey, and she forces the boy into the elf's arms. "Deal with it," she says coldly, turning away and glaring at the wall.