QLFC, round 8. CHASER 1: MissingMommy's headcanon: Nobody ever said, "I love you." to Regulus. Prompts: (object) zinc, (restriction) no Hogwarts staff is to be mentioned, (first line) I/He/She live/s for disbelief…
The Golden Snitch, Father's Day Event: Orion Black. Prompts: (word) scar, (word) hurt, (emotion) love, (colour) black, (colour) emerald green, (object) ring, (word) moon, (word) brave.
Ollivander's Wand Shop: Write about a Slytherin character. [Beauxbatons, Melusine]
Many thanks to Star-Scrap and to Sophy and my teammates.
A/N Orion and Walburga are basically the same age for the purpose of this story. Also, (this is more of a reminder than anything) both Orion's father and Cedrella's father are named Arcturus.
Warning: not really, just hints at something that may seem dark-ish but it definitely isn't, merely Walburga being deceived by someone who claimed to love her. I hope to have a companion fic about that up soon ;)
~The last star turn out the light~
She lives for disbelief, and that's all she believes in—it keeps her going.
Orion, knowing this, never asks Walburga for something she can't give. Her faith he knows he doesn't have, nobody does; but whenever she turns, her eyes betraying more than her pride usually lets on, whenever her step falters and she reaches for him—unconsciously, that much is clear—he makes sure she'll find him, find his steady hand, before anything else; even if she doesn't believe she will.
The little, rigid nod he gets is sufficient recognition for him; it's not her love he seeks—he doesn't need to; if she had love to give, it'd be his to take—but they, their whole family, have an implicit deal about it, and he respects it. So do Walburga and little Regulus.
As often happens, it's Sirius the first one to break it. He's barely four years old and hasn't shown any sign of rebellion yet, but he does. He looks around, shifting his attention from Regulus to Orion to Walburga, his silver eyes sparkling, then he goes straight to his mother and says, "I love you," his honey-covered hands sticking to her silk dress as he tries to hug her. Her eyes wide and horrified, she shakes off the child and goes and picks up Regulus whose lips are now trembling and whose eyes are swelling up with tears.
"Hush," she whispers to their second-born, revulsion still ruining her features. "It's not real. You're safe. I'm safe."
Sirius looks at his own hands as if they were covered in blood before glancing at his mother, longing entering his eyes. And Orion, who has watched helplessly as the tragedy took place, finally takes pity of him, crouching down and putting a soothing hand on his firstborn's shoulder.
It's not the honey nor his total lack of propriety—a child should never speak unless called upon—it's those words that have been banned from their House a long time ago and are now synonymous with ash and death.
As Walburga takes Regulus away, Orion picks Sirius up, a heavy feeling setting on his shoulders for failing his wife, failing the little loving heart that beats in this child's chest.
Because Orion knows, has always known, but now it's too late: Sirius has just lost his mother.
.
Orion is eight years old when he sees it happen for the first time. Hidden in his father's study, his heart pumping in his chest with fear, he observes as his father and his great-uncle strip Cedrella of her name, her essence.
"Pay attention, Arcturus. You have a daughter so it'll be good for you too," says Orion's great-uncle before turning to his daughter, "Very well, Cedrella. A certain Blood-traitor had the temerity to come and ask for your hand in marriage. What do you have to say?"
"Oh, father," she sighs. "I told him not to."
"Told him? Am I to assume you two have indeed established some sort of relationship?"
Crouched down beside the filing cabinet, Orion can only see his father's shiny black shoes—all his weight on his heels, sign that he's uncomfortable—and hear his great-uncle's cold voice which sends shivers down his spine.
"Father, I—" Cedrella says.
Great-uncle Arcturus slams his fist on the table. "Tell me what kind of curse hit you, intoxicated you to the point that you felt that talking to this Blood-traitor was acceptable. I demand to know."
Orion sees Cedrella's hand fidget with the silk of her own gown restlessly as a whisper that he doesn't catch escapes her lips.
"You're right to be afraid, girl, you're right." Great-uncle Arcturus gets up and walks toward Cedrella, his black shoes stopping just a few inches from her velvet slippers.
Orion hears a muffled whimper.
"Come and see the results of your twisted love, girl."
They leave and after a few minutes, Orion takes a deep breath in and follows them; the Tapestry burns for over an hour, and he can't avert his eyes for long time after, so when a heavy hand comes down on his shoulder, he flinches.
"Father," Orion says, "what is love? Why was great-uncle so angry?"
"Your great-uncle is angry because he loved his daughter and she betrayed him. Consider this; if you had a plant and one of its branches got ill, wouldn't you cut it to preserve the rest of the plant?"
Orion nods.
"Love is ruthless, my son. Love means sacrifice and pain; if you love something ill, either you kill it or it'll destroy you."
.
He is ten years old when Walburga comes to him, her posture unladylike for the first time since she knows her.
"M-mother said she loves me." Her lips are trembling, but the little wrinkle in her forehead tells Orion that not a tear will fall; she's focusing too hard on that.
He doesn't understand. His parents may or may not be proud of their children, but love—whether it is good or bad—goes unspoken. He frowns. "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" He's never said anything to her about what had happened when he was eight.
"No, because love makes you weak; it means I can never make her proud—this is the consolation prize. Father says love is for M-muggles, who created it to mimic that magic they lacked and envied."
Orion puts a hand on her shoulder. "Do not fret over it, Walburga. I'm sure that doesn't mean anything. Your mother—she's not a Black," he says as if that explains everything.
From Walburga's relieved eyes, it does.
.
He is fourteen years old when Walburga sends him an unexpected owl, her handwriting elegant and neat, but the ink stain at the end of the parchment tells him otherwise.
'Promise me you'll never love me. Promise me those words will never cross your lips. People who speak them are the first ones to betray you. Love leads to jealousy, and jealousy leads to blindness. You can't trust a person who loves.'
His reply is quick and concerned. 'What happened?'
'It's Lucretia. She claimed to love both and me and Alphard, but when he kissed me, she almost sent both him and me to our deaths. We survived only because my father always taught me pride is the only possible feeling; anything else is a lie, a pitiful lie created to sooth those who are fool and inferior. We survived thanks to my distrust.
Give me your word, Orion. I couldn't believe in you any longer otherwise.'
He is young and he likes Walburga; he gives his word without dwelling on her request or her reasons.
Giving up something has always been the law of any agreement, and the neat, elegant 'Thank you' he gets in reply is reward enough for having renounced something that he doesn't have. Any Black would deem themselves lucky.
.
It's not until he is seventeen years old that he realizes he made a mistake that fateful day, and now, it's too late; Orion Black can't love Walburga ever again, but he's the only one who she still lets in, and he must be happy with that.
There's something satisfying and empowering in knowing the proud Walburga Black turns to him whenever something dramatic forces her shields down. That, and he secretly approves that no one but a Black can see another Black's weaknesses.
.
He's twenty-one years old when she gets the most ruthless promise from him.
"Promise me you'll never tell any child of ours you love them."
"But, Walburga—"
"Promise me," she demands. "They must learn to fear those words as much as they'll despise Muggles and Mudbloods."
He stares into her steel eyes and surrenders because he now understands how dangerous, how weakening, love can be, and he doesn't want this for his children.
"Thank you," she whispers.
.
Dejectedly, Orion look as Sirius' chest moves up and down; the child's breath is ragged, his eyes are red from crying, but he looks serene in his sleep, and Orion leaves his son's room and heads towards his and his wife's chambers.
Walburga is there, darkness and power wrapped around her like she is the Goddess of the Night. Her magic crackles around her. "He said—" Her voice falters. "—he loved me."
In a sudden moment of clarity, Orion knows she is not talking about Sirius.
"He looked like an angel whose wings just needed to be mended, but he was the devil himself. I loved him—"
Hurt and some other bitter feeling he has never tasted blossom in Orion's chest at those words.
"—and he said he loved me like the moon loves the stars, but we forgot that the moon cheats on them with the sun after tenderly kissing them each night. He played with love like he played with death." She lets out a shaking breath and looks up at Orion, fidgeting with her wedding ring. "I should have known, Orion. All my pride, all my disbelief—he made me throw it all away. That letter—do you remember—it was not Lucretia. It was him. I sent it because I couldn't face you—not after that."
"Walburga," he says, and it's a sigh of defeat and a breath of life at the same time. In her name, pronounced with such reverence and pain, he's conveying the forbidden words—I love you.
She smiles, a sad one. "He wanted to solve the riddles known as love and death, and he needed me. Well, I solved them; dying leads to a corporeal end while loving someone... Love destroys your soul, makes you a ship doomed to sink and see its own pieces and sailors go down with it. Love is a neverending search for thorns." She pulls her sleeve up to reveal a little scar. "This is the result of that love, of my doubting my own disbelief."
Orion remembers that one.
She's never confessed how she'd gotten it, but it was him who'd bandaged it after applying some zinc powder, the first antiseptic thing he could get his hands on.
"I should have known from the way he waltzed around Alphard too that it was my surname, our family power, he pursued. For a brief, glorious moment, I thought, I believed… But no, the price is too high. After giving this ruthless deity that is known as love this last chance, I promised to myself that no child of mine would ever suffer the same fate, the same humiliation—that they'd never bow to such treatment. Blacks bow to no one."
"I know, Walburga. And you know you have my word."
"Yes, but Sirius came into contact with that filthy thing somehow. We must preserve him and little Regulus at any cost. It's our duty to make sure they don't surrender to love therefore falling prey to anyone who speaks about it. They must learn to rely only on themselves."
"Regulus will never hear those words; I'll make sure of it."
"Please, remind Sirius too, even if—"
Forlornness and grief descend upon them for the loss of their fine heir; there's no doubt in their minds that he'll betray them.
Those who love always do.
.
Orion would never admit it, but his wife's story upset him.
He's learned to trust her when she said love is nothing but cold ash that feeds off pain and fear, and now he's seen firsthand the kind of legacy it brings—those who are trapped by love can only inherit cold wind and a handful of words that are as sweet as the honey whose goal is to bind together its victims' teeth, depriving them of their wills.
He can't do anything for her—teenagers experience disappointments and there's no real slight to avenge. But he can be sure his sons—the two stars who brighten his existence—learn to reject love and won't suffer because of it.
It's easier to discard something that's not luring.
It is with these thoughts in mind that, under Walburga's watchful eyes, Orion starts a new tradition that night, hoping it'll help suffocating his own feelings too.
Love appears in the literature time and time again, and it's overly easy to find extracts that put it in a bad light.
The fact that he has to use Muggle literature to prove his point is a bonus—two evil things knotted together.
After each session, Orion kisses Sirius' and Regulus' heads and says, "Pride is the only possible feeling because it's born of actions, and actions are the only thing that defines a wizard and marks him as a conqueror or a parasite. Everything we have, every great achievement comes from independent work. Those who want to bind people together by love or any other mean are but parasites. That's what love turns you into."
Standing in the doorframe, Walburga grins.
.
Andromeda is the first one to fall victim to some loving Muggle and betray the family.
After mourning for her for seven days—despite their dark surname, the Blacks have always been like white stoats: best dead than stained—Orion and Walburga have the surveillance beefed up even though they know for Sirius, it's too late; he's been slipping further and further away from them to the point where Walburga decides to stop eating honey.
"It's too sticky," she says, absentmindedly rubbing her chest.
Orion nods and keeps silent.
"Do you think Sirius ever said it to our Regulus?"
He shakes his head. "I'm sure he didn't. Regulus told me that he's proud of his brother and that there's still hope for him since he declared, rather loudly in the Great Hall, neverending love to James Potter. According to Regulus, Sirius will be back home by the end of the year." He doesn't speak about the jealousy that had surfaced in his younger son's eyes, and like him, he allows his hope to be restored—for what else could a father do when his family is falling apart in front of his eyes? "Sirius knows the rules." He's not sure he believes it himself.
Walburga's face is a mask of indifference as he takes a bite of her toast, just a little difficulty in swallowing betraying the lack of honey. "Let's hope poor Andromeda's disgrace teaches them something," she says, her voice scratchy. "Orion? I trust you reminded him how proud we are of him for not giving into temptation."
"Of course, my dear."
.
When Regulus disappears and the news come that he's dead—too young, too innocent, too pure—Orion and Walburga's only consolation is that he's never heard those infamous words, that he's always eschewed them—any young Slytherin knowing not to cross the Black family, and the only ones who could be foolish enough to do so kept far away because unacceptable suitors.
They stare at each other, and Orion finds the same question that is haunting him in Walburga's wrinkled eyes, Is this consolation growing to be our biggest regret?
He shrugs it away.
A pat on the back on his eleventh birthday, a special treat for his proper sorting, praises and proud looks—they gave him everything. And if his gaze turned longing from time to time, wasn't his untouched honor all that mattered?
"He made us happy," Walburga says, staring at Regulus' room, her hand running to her scar. "So happy. I think I—"
"Walburga," he says, a warning in his calm tone. He doesn't want to hear it—that they were not good enough, that he was a bad father—he's not brave enough to face his own responsibilities. Not now.
"He—" She rubs her temples and turns to Orion, a baffling glint in her eyes. "Why are you wearing black robes? That's not my son; he's not dead" Her voice is sweet, serene as her eyes widen in surprise.
"Please, Walburga."
"My son is asleep." Her voice can still command armies.
"Come with me, please." He carefully reaches for her hand.
"No! Why should I come with you? My—do you know what I mean?—my… p-peace is here, in his bedroom, guarding his sleep. Let me be a good mother." She draws her wand and conjures a sign that says, Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black. "Can we hang this, Orion? He'd like it."
Orion takes it without a word. As he watches Walburga petting the covers of an empty bed, he's not surprised to see she didn't—couldn't—believe such tragic news.
Losing their niece first and their firstborn later has hit them hard, but Regulus? He shakes his head, heartbroken.
She lives for disbelief—that's the reason she's still alive albeit mad—and never in his life has Orion even been more grateful for it—and more envious.
He silently walks out of Regulus Arcturus Black's room—bright emerald green, symbol of an ambition that will never see the light of the day, mocking him—and closes the door behind himself.
A/N it's actually zinc oxide that is helpful in wound healing, but I'm not sure how much wizards know about Chemistry (if at all), so I thought that zinc powder - maybe mixed with some magical ingredient - is something they're more likely to use (hopefully!).
word count: 2790