Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
An: Having too much fun over here. It's a blast writing Walburga as that special kind of bullheaded dense. To Good Idea, yes. There will definitely be some Orion POVs too. Next chap. XD And I'm glad you're stoked about her personality.
Chapter 3: An Adventure Of Her Own
Walburga hummed softly as she arranged flowers in a crystal vase. When it met her approval, she smiled and leaned in to enjoy the sweet scent before moving it to the corner of her desk.
Several feet over, Orion was finishing up with a client, who was easily twice his age. She'd been a little worried that Orion's youth might provoke some instinctive doubt or disrespect, but was relieved to find it wasn't an issue.
Orion was very professional in this element. A broker...it was just so...respectable..and he kept such an orderly office. She had already admitted to his father, Arcturus, that it surprised her.
He'd frowned at her impertinence and she'd awkwardly reminisced about how she'd always had to badger him to do his herbology homework or keep his work space at the library clean (really, it was ridiculous how he'd dominated library tables).
He laughed in her face and told her that was years ago.
Yes...but…
Yes...
Arcturus gave her a funny look. "He's a man now, Walburga. I don't have to rouse him in the morning to get dressed, either."
"Praise the heavens for that," Melania had giggled while she glided by.
The clink of sherry glasses startled her out that remembrance.
She set to typing up a document Orion needed to deliver to Mr. Fletcher. He'd already written out what he wanted said but as she squinted at the message, she had to admit her cousin really did have horrible penmanship.
But she knew her own hand would be too feminine for that particular wizard to take seriously. He was her father's age and men like that...anything that was womanly was ripe for scorn.
Typing would be best.
She was overcoming her knee jerk aversion to the muggleness of the instrument in the same way she'd come to appreciate cameras and phonographs and if it helped her cousin's business and provided a reason to get out of the house…
It was well worth it.
And then there was the pay.
She had the distinct feeling her cousin was being over generous but wasn't quite sure how to broach it with him. Perhaps, he really did have fears that her father had diminished her allowance.
A little silly really.
While Pollux gladly donned a tyrant's scepter when dealing with her brothers, he was usually fairly lenient with her. Why, he'd only ever slapped her twice.
Once, after she'd eavesdropped and talked back at a dinner party when he privately lamented to a friend his unfortunate lot of having a daughter be his firstborn.
That was a mistake. For he never bothered to be discreet with his disappointment after that. And rather than voicing it when she was far away or occupied, he delighted in saying it while she was in earshot.
And again, when she could produce no tears at her mother's wake. The slap was as much to express his disapproval as to provide her aid. Because he'd done it in private, and the suddenness brought tears to her eyes and he marched her out among the mourners then.
There...there really wasn't much animosity between them, though they never bandied words to one another. While he made his disappointment of her brothers' failings often, he didn't harp on her.
Didn't need to.
As her father had said, "A daughter. What could I expect from one such as you?"
Orion's home, Black Hall, was a fair-sized estate, though half the size of Black Manor and more modern; built in the late Victorian Era following a fire of the previous homestead. It too, was fairly rural but there were neighbors within sight and pavement and fencing and manicured hedges and brooms left out on porches and lawns.
Adorably quaint, like the branch of the Black family that lived there.
Black Manor...wasn't like that at all. Her home was large and medieval, hard rectangular towers and geometric edges.
It's main defense was being surrounded by mires, darkly enchanted trees that liked to move, and a legion of hinkypunks.
After her brothers were born, Mother insisted the heirs be safeguarded at Grimmauld Place and rarely let them visit their other home at all.
Walburga had been welcome to flit between both estates—traveling with her father when he needed to do business or "have silence" or "find sanity" as he labeled it.
It also gradually dawned on her why (in her earliest years while Alphard was a toddler and Cygnus was in infancy) why it had been Father and not Mother who instructed her on how to safely play outside Black Manor...that her mother had been perfectly content to let her daughter wander unsupervised...whatever might happen.
Or that she still held hopes as Walburga aged and often pushed her to go with her father...as if depending on Pollux's benign negligence to...result in something unfortunate and accidental but convenient.
She was careful not to mention such things to Orion though. At his heart of hearts, under that strong frame, he was delicate and spoiled: the hoped for son of his parents and baby of his family. And then, after having him, they could relax. Though, she had to admit, they never seemed to treat Lucretia poorly. Though, their family wasn't the ruling one of the Black family household. There was less expectation demanded of them. They had more leave for weakness.
Why, the summer when she was eleven and mortified to still be forced into that odious, child-sized kitchen and parlor set (she was going to Hogwarts that fall for heaven's sake), Orion chatted whimsically about marriage and family. Arranging her dolls and adopting them for an afternoon, sometimes a daughter was his eldest, sometimes a son. Once, feeling rather spiteful, she brought nine female porcelain dolls and foisted them all on him—no males and thus, no heirs—expecting to shock him and wake him up to the reality of succession. She'd been surprised when he enthusiastically racked his brain for names and managed constellations for them all. He called them his darling muses and took too much delight in selecting middle names from Greek mythology.
A silly romantic.
He could never hope to understand her mother.
He'd refuse to understand her father. Or how Pollux could recognize his wife's feelings and accept them...allow them.
He wouldn't feel validated that Pollux evened the score out...later...by decreeing his sons as too weak and stupid to manage the mires and barring them from accompanying him on his hunting trips.
And that's how a young Walburga had met and outshot a certain Abraxas Malfoy. Which had infuriated him as much as it intrigued him.
It had been so satisfying telling the Malfoys, father and son, that yes, girls had a natural affinity for bows, all bows, crossbows included.
Maybe it was the smile her father gave her then...
That she suddenly knew.
She knew as certain as she knew their family's motto.
What her mother knew and wouldn't forgive.
What her father embraced but could never say.
She was her father's favorite.
The used glasses were set down on the silver tray and the elder wizard shook Orion's hand one more time as he stood up from his chair.
They laughed over something and she joined her cousin, taking his proffered arm.
The three passed Orion's parents in the hallway, who gave a short bow and curtsy to the client.
Mr. Potter tipped his hat to them with a sincere, "Mr. and Mrs. Black." Then when he crossed the threshold outside, he turned, smiled, and tipped his hat one last time with a "And a very good day to you, Mr. and Mrs. Black, the younger."
And disapparated with a pop.
Walburga stared and then murmured as a house elf closed the door, "...he's a very...eccentric wizard...isn't he?"
"Inventors. They're all like that."
Socially awkward? And grossly misinformed of the world at large?
"He thought we were married," she chuckled. "And you didn't correct him." She gave her cousin a playful swat. "I know he's old and you didn't wish to embarrass him...but what if he circulates that? It will hurt your chances if people are misinformed."
He'd said he wanted to get married and soon. If people thought them engaged...
"Good lord, as if people don't make rude comments already," she sighed.
Orion look startled by that.
Walburga felt her cheeks warm a bit. Did he honestly not know? "They...there are some who...believe...because we're often in one another's company that we're...what's the colloquialism? Ah yes, that we're... 'Kissing Cousins.'"
His face reddened.
Worse, there was some...basis for it.
It was nearly a decade ago though.
During a winter holiday gala hosted by the Malfoys where she'd intended to confront Abraxas about news of his engagement, her seventh year cousin had been playing spin the Butterbeer with his peers.
She'd been passing by, seeking Abraxas, when the bottle pointed to her but she ignored the catcalls and demands that she satisfy the game's rules...and the hisses when she made it apparent she wouldn't bend. For goodness sake, it was her young cousin!
On her return, after Abraxas confirmed his engagement and his own satisfaction with the match, she returned downstairs...intending to quit the evening there at once.
Poor Orion. It was his turn again. The bottle spun and landed on her a second time, and on hearing the groans from them of her being a sorry sport and a frigid, stone maiden and having no sense of humor. And that injury compounding what she'd already endured…
Furious, she stormed over and kissed Orion.
He'd harbored a terrible infatuation with her for the rest of that year which she blamed on adolescent lust and familial pity—arguing that Abraxas was no catch and that there were more eligible bachelors to consider.
It was only cured on graduation when he could start mingling with more women at balls and the like.
He was so young. She never should've done it. Confusing him like that. What had she been thinking?
Well, she really hadn't been thinking at all. He'd just been there and handsome and-
She shook her head.
"Does it embarrass you?" Orion asked.
"Hmm? What?"
"That...that they say such things?"
She shrugged. Her branch of the family had a tendency to stray into scandal. Why she'd be inviting more onto herself by participating in the tournament.
But...
A little scandal kept one relevant.
"Would you have me chase the man down and correct him?" He sounded irritated.
"I see now. Perhaps this was all by design?" she mockingly accused and he flushed again. "I daresay a man with a wife has more authority in business?"
Orion's eyebrows twitched at the turnabout but he haltingly agreed. "More trustworthy. For he would not take risks that could injure her."
"Should I we invite Andromeda the next time?" she jested. "Make a grander show? For surely a man with a wife and child can only be a greater trump card in this game."
He remained agitated but tried to volley her sally. Though his...missed the mark and was just….strange.
"So now you plan to borrow children. What? Don't want any of your own, now? Following Bagshot's example?"
She sighed. She never should've shared that with him. She'd scorched his sensibilities with such ideas.
"Yes, I think I'll dedicate my life thus. She'll be my Socrates."
He spluttered.
"Goodness." She raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I have something against them now?"
Yes, most she'd encountered were loud, messy, and ill mannered. She was certain she'd perish on the spot by shame if a toddler of hers stripped down in a public place. And the idea of not having to deal with that on a daily business was one of the reliefs of not having that option on the table as it were.
But she was a fine and doting aunt to her nieces. Especially now that Bellatrix wasn't such an exhibitionist.
"I'm certain I don't know. You've had all sorts of odd ideas as of late...You used to want them. We'd name your dolls. And list name preferences. Was't Sirius and Lyra the usual-"
She frowned. "Nono, those were yours. Remember? You made a big kerfuffle, insisting on the name Sirius for your firstborn. I, however, was partial to Regulus."
"We both liked Regulus. My second son can b-"
Walburga turned to him, annoyed they were even arguing about this. "I know we both liked Regulus, which is why I told you then, that when the time came, we'd have to duel for it or something."
And she was confident she'd win. Only...she wasn't getting married so it was a rather moot point. Unless, she simply dueled him for it anyway for a matter of pride. Which she might.
She left him and moved to greet Mrs. Melania Black and inquire about the day's menu (and would she appreciate Kreacher's assistance with the dinner's dessert?) so she didn't hear his deadpan reply or see his father's smirk.
"What if I told you, Walburga dear, this incredible, mind blowing way where we could both have a son named Regulus?"
She could scarcely believe that the tournament would start tomorrow. It was easy to lose her bearings and sense of time in the peaceful day-to-day of her cousin's household.
If she'd been holed up at Black Manor, she'd have burst with nerves and anticipation.
Being here was a happy distraction.
Walburga sat down to breakfast. It was so...cheery the way the lot of them gathered for a family breakfast every other Friday.
Lucretia and her husband were seated near her and Arcturus' siblings were nearer to him. Lycoris and Regulus, it was almost...reassuring seeing them. Neither was married or had children and they seemed fairly collected so...her fate needn't feel unnatural. She might even...ask them their feelings on the situation, if she could embolden herself.
Orion was seated across from her, per his father's orders. Though, he usually managed to make his way over to her side of the table before the meal was over. When he'd been a child, he'd been prone to crawling under the table to get to her; though one poorly executed joke, where he'd grabbed her legs and she gave a kick that knocked a baby tooth out, put an end to that.
She supposed, given the way Orion vied for attention at social functions, she'd assumed domesticity and schedules would bore him. But he didn't seem to mind the weekly pickups and dropoffs of her father's work for the Ministry. Often they went on excursions to Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley to amuse themselves or he took her to restaurants or walks through various parks.
A month had passed with that easy companionship and she looked forward to working now and wondered why she hadn't entertained the thought sooner.
"I feel like...quite suddenly you've become a member of my household," Arcturus Black III remarked dryly at her as he buttered his toast.
She faltered a bit as she chewed a mouthful of eggs.
Lucretia's mouth twitched with a smile.
Chagrined, Walburga noted that she had been present at far too many breakfasts and dinners as of late. "I know. I'm sorry to have imposed-"
He waved a hand.
She looked away in embarrassment and found herself staring at a great painting of Melania Black, Orion's mother.
And then to the woman herself.
Melania Black smiled in that peculiar way that had been her wont for the last few weeks and assured that they very much enjoyed her company and what she was contributing to their son's welfare.
Walburga shrugged. "It's no trouble at all. Orion has need of me."
"No doubt," she smiled.
"We work well together," Walburga declared.
Husband and wife shared a glance.
Arcturus dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, "Of course, of course. Very well."
"We're very glad to hear that. It is most convenient," Melania stated gently.
Walburga was spared from continuing what was turning into an odd conversation by the arrival of the mail and the house elves clearing the table.
Her dining companions sifted through various letters of business and pleasure.
Orion had his usual pile—tribute from his ardent admirers. She could smell the perfume radiating outward.
Walburga watched as he opened a package, "Chocolates? Well, that's a thoughtful gesture. I-"
"We never eat the chocolates," Melania warned quickly.
"Yes," Lucretia piped up wryly. "I made the mistake of eating one of his, once, and took great interest in spending time with Elena Stonely."
Orion had a house elf dispose of it.
Walburga shrugged. She'd have had Kreacher check it for spells first. That was a highline brand of confection. But perhaps their house elves weren't as talented as hers. Kreacher, her personal attendant, had been very thoroughly trained.
She had a fair amount of letters that morning. Wedding announcement. Wedding announcement. Wedding invitation. One from Alphard suggesting a luncheon with her and Cygnus. She tried not to grimace, those seldom went well.
And then an owl she didn't recognize at all appeared and dropped a hand-sized, square package in front of her before swooping out.
From the British Wizard Dueling Association…
She felt a whoosh of excitement fill her and she couldn't keep her face composed. She'd received a confirmation letter earlier that week informing her that her application had been accepted and that all competitors would receive their button the day before the tournament began.
And now it was here.
It was really happening.
She felt her face heat with pleasure.
"Who is that from, Walburga?" Orion asked—his dark grey eyes on her.
"Hmm? What?" She held it against her breast so he couldn't read its label.
"That," he pointed bluntly. "In your arms. Who is that from?"
She felt giddy and embarrassed and at a loss of how to explain the box away. "Oh this?"
He didn't miss a beat. "Yes."
"Oh, it's from...no one of-of consequence I'm sure."
His expression soured. "Then why leave us in suspense?"
"No. I shall, I shall soon-only, you know, I just remembered something I ought to...first...do excuse-"
She heard his chair scrape back as he stood up but she was already hurrying down the hall for privacy.
Voices immediately broke out behind her, sounding concerned and she knew she'd shocked them and how terribly bizarre and ill mannered she must've seemed. Only…
Only this moment was all hers by right to cherish.
An adventure of her own arranging.
She traced her wand against the box while using a low level severing charm, peeked inside and-
O it was lovely.
She moved into an empty parlour room and lit more candles with a wordless wave of her wand to admire it.
The contestant button was the size of her palm and glossy; black with white lettering. Quite handsome. If she paired it with some manner of sash to tie around her waist...it could look very fetching.
Her number was 2526.
Well, that would be nice and simple to remember.
There was a small note within, instructing her that the button was required for her to participate.
The first duels would commence the next day. Below there were two columns that were spaced out by hours of the day.
Rather than names, the duelists were listed by the button number.
Those in Column One would face off against Column Two.
She scanned and found she'd been selected!
11:30AM against a duelist…4712.
She could make that work. Most definitely. A bite to eat for breakfast and then lunch would follow the bout.
Yes...and if she won...nonono...when she won, she'd treat herself.
There was a commotion behind her and she was surprised to see a breathless Lucretia at the threshold of the room.
"Quite...quite...alright? W-wal-burga?"
She must've been volunteered to give chase.
"Oh yes," she grinned. "Wonderful. I hope I didn't give you all a scare."
Lucretia gave a weak smile. "...no...though, my curiosity is piqued."
"Oh alas, you must have patience!"
"..."
"It will be known soon enough."
Lucretia looked unsure at that. "...Why don't we make our return then?"
Their family members watched her closely, and Orion moved from where he'd been in counsel with his father to where she and Lucretia were standing, no doubt awaiting an answer as to what could've possibly gotten into her but…
But…
There were so many things to do!
And she realized she'd gotten so tangled up in working with Orion, she'd forgotten to purchase arm guards for dueling. Her school year ones were beyond frayed and scratched. She'd tried persuading her cousin to enter a shop that designed ones she liked on one of their Knockturn Alley excursions, but he'd wrinkled his nose and wondered aloud what she could possibly need from there?
She needed to do that at once.
Get the arm guards.
At once.
So she could practice in them and break them in, at least a little bit. If they were too stiff, it could affect the grace of her wandwork.
Orion approached, lightly resting his hands on her shoulders and sliding them down to her elbows. "Are you alright? What is this all ab-"
And she needed to decide what to wear.
Appearances were awfully important and she wanted her first impression to go smoothly.
She definitely needed some freedom of movement but she didn't want to sacrifice her sense of fashion.
She needed to look professional.
She needed to look lovely.
And she needed to stop grinning like an idiot.
She took a step back from him.
"I...I'm terribly sorry. But something's come up and I must go. I...I-" she announced to the room.
Orion looked so worried.
"It's good news," she blurted to assure him. "It's very good news. I just...I need time to...I realize I can't work today with-with this" she glanced down at the box in her hands "...or tomorrow morning, actually, but I...but I expect to return tomorrow by the afternoon. Yes, yes, I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."
"Walburga…"
Poor lamb.
"It's nothing bad," she insisted, laying a hand on his arm. "I imagine there might even be something about it in the newspaper tomorrow. Maybe the morning edition...most definitely by the evening."
Orion's expression didn't change.
The doom there was almost comical, but if she told him her scheme now and the family started in on her, they might give her cold feet about the whole affair and persuade her to withdraw.
But he did look so forlorn…
Torn between sympathy for him and joy for herself and unable to contain it, she threw her arms around him.
His arms instinctively tightened around her.
"O wish me the best of luck, Orrie."
He didn't.
And he didn't let go either.
She tried to step back and couldn't.
She glanced up and gave him an amused look.
My, what an expression. Such a thundercloud!
He'd do this when he was younger and didn't want her to head off into a duel after curfew, or away with Malfoy to explore the Forbidden Forest, or give her brothers the thrashing they deserved.
But she employed the skill she'd mastered at seventeen and with a happy, musical laugh, disapparated.
Read & Review Please! : D
