Chapter 5
Alphard grew at a faster rate than Walburga could ever imagine herself growing at, despite what Irma told her.
"You went from being a little baby, as your brother is now, to how you are today in no time," Irma reassured her. She only made a face and glanced at Alphard, who was sucking his thumb and happily cooing. No, Walburga decided, she hadn't ever been that small. And she most certainly had never cried at every little whim, nor had she wet herself at the alarmingly constant rate that Alphard did.
When she voiced those opinions to Alarice, her grandmother merely arched an elegant eyebrow before saying, "then tell me of your first day."
Walburga scrunched up her face, thinking. "It was a long time ago," she finally said, imitating what her mother said on the few occasions that she asked her questions about Irma's childhood. "Can't remember."
"Well, I do happen to remember your first day. And let me assure you that you were just as small as your brother. You cried just as much -perhaps even more- and I remember holding you, trying to soothe you, but that made you cry all the more. You were a stubborn one," Alarice smiled gently, "and you still are," she added when she caught her granddaughter's skeptical look.
There was no need to tell the little girl of how her mother had refused to hold her for a week after her birth, opting to curse her lover-turned-husband. There was no need to tell her that her father hadn't even been there for the birth. There was no need to tell her of the first year of her life, where Irma cried nearly as much as her infant daughter did. There was no need to tell her that at first, Alarice herself was more of a mother to Walburga than Irma was.
No, there most certainly was no need. It was alright to let the little girl believe that her childhood was relatively peaceful, just as Alphard's was. Irma was faring quite well; the months spent with Alarice before her son was born had done her good, and she had fallen into the habit regularly visiting Crabbe Manor to see her mother, usually bringing Walburga and Alphard along with her. Even Pollux was making an effort to piece together his shattered relationship with Irma and to get to know his children.
To Walburga, it seemed as if things were finally fixing themselves.
It was a slow process, needless to say; after five years of a cold barrier, caused either by physical or mental distance, it was hard for Pollux and Walburga to accept each other. To Pollux, finally seeing the child that looked so much like him -such a beautiful little girl- and full of so much of energy and will... this was his daughter. His daughter; the overwhelming realization left him in shock, soon to be followed by a numb sensation that he recognized as guilt.
Where had it gone wrong? Why was it that his own daughter didn't know him, and only stared at him in surprise, surprised at the fact that her father was actually talking to her, instead of treating her with the cold indifference that she had grown so accustomed to?
If he were a better man, Pollux would have apologized, he would have admitted that it was him, always him, and never her. He would have gathered his daughter into his arms, and promised to protect her, to always be there, to never leave again.
But he didn't.
Instead, he spoke of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, of blood supremacy, of Mudbloods, of blood traitors.
"Coward," a voice in his mind hissed. It sounded suspiciously like Irma's.
To Walburga, it just sounded like one of Grandfather Cygnus' lectures. She had always liked them, and so she listened. She was still in shock over the fact that her father -the cold, imposing man that she had always thought hated her- was actually speaking to her, but the more he did so, the more she grew used to it and eventually looked forward to it. He wasn't as openly passionate as her grandfather was about it all, but it was still there in his eyes.
The deep, dark, black pits that suddenly didn't seem so bottomless anymore, as they came to life and snapped and crackled with every word that Pollux spoke.
Walburga thought it was passion.
In reality, it was guilt.
"Coward."
Irma never actually uttered those words. But when Walburga came to her, softly murmuring "Toujours Pur", Irma knew immediately where her daughter had heard it. It had been said to her on several occasions, but it was only when it was fresh in her mind that Walburga repeated the motto.
If Irma were a better mother, she would have quietly whispered in Walburga's ear, assuring her that while it was in her family, in her very blood, Toujours Pur did not define her. She would have held her tight and her promised that she didn't need to worry about what her father said, that all she needed to worry her young head with was thoughts of what she should play the next day, of what imaginary world she should explore in her dreams, of what fantasy she should act out next.
She didn't.
Instead, she nodded and repeated it, "Toujours Pur," and said no more. She could barley even recognize her own voice.
"Coward," a voice whispered in her ear. It was Alarice's, but Irma pushed it aside and went back to cradling Alphard.
The next time she saw Pollux, as they laid down together in bed, he was watching her intently, as if expecting her to say something. However, there was silence, and she merely rolled closer to him, finally placing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.
He immediately leaned in, hands groping her waste, but Irma pulled back, shaking her head. Pollux fell still, and made no motion or noise as Irma scooted over to him again, softly capturing his mouth in another kiss.
"Toujours Pur," she suddenly whispered against his lips. This time, it was he who pulled back, black eyes unreadable. Irma's first thought was that he was going to be triumphant, but as she gazed into those dark and altogether captivating pits of his soul, she suddenly doubted that.
He looked lost, and Irma felt that feeling being echoed by her soul.
This time, she didn't stop him as he rolled on top of her.
...
Little did the couple know that in another part of Black Residence, Walburga had left her room and padded over to Alphard's nursery. There really wasn't anyone to keep her from doing so. Her parents always retired to their room and didn't come out until morning, and Lossy was too old and worn out to be up late (unless somebody called for her, of course.)
Walburga was free to do as she pleased, and though she usually opted to sleep after a long day of running about, she still payed many late-night visits to Alphard. It was just so calming, to watch the baby sleep peacefully, to listen to his steady breathing, to smell his sweet scent.
He was still small and thin, abnormally so, but he was beautiful in his own way. Perfect.
This was the first time that Walburga was in love.
She leaned over him, lips almost brushing the black tuft of hair. "Toujours Pur," she murmured softly. She didn't even know what it meant. Not really. But Grandfather Cygnus, Mother, and even Father -now that he was speaking to her- always said it.
She wondered if Father had said it to Alphard, too. Though it was hard for Pollux to rebuild his relationship with his wife and daughter, it was a fresh start when it came to his son. He still spent much time in his study, but Walburga saw those times -during naps, after meals, before bed- that Pollux would silently beckon to Irma, asking for Alphard.
Irma said nothing, and only handed the baby over to its father. From what Walburga could tell, Pollux merely held Alphard and gazed at him, nothing more, but still, she knew that Toujours Pur was something important. Something that she had to know.
Something that Marius hadn't.
And she would make sure that her brother did.
Alphard stirred.
Walburga stilled, then slowly began to back away, even as he began lightly fussing.
It would be so easy just to leave.
To go back to her bed, shut out her brother's cries, and sleep. To let him fight his own terrors at night -whatever that meant to an infant- knowing that come morning, he would be just fine.
She shook her head clear of those thoughts and ran back to Alphard's crib, scooping his little body up in her arms. It was the one thing that her mother didn't want her doing without supervision, but Irma didn't need to know. Alphard immediately quieted, and Walburga felt a sense of pride.
Silence.
She never liked tense silence that was filled with hate and the empty silence of being ignored, or, later, the deafening silence of being alone and the cold, hard silence that signified death.
But this, this was a different kind of silence, and Walburga wished that it would last forever.
The moment was broken when her arms began to ache with the light weight of her brother, and she was forced to set his sleeping form back in the crib.
Walburga watched Alphard for a bit longer, but soon, she tired, she grew bored, she became cold, and so she left the nursery and headed back down the hallway to her own room.
The house was dark and silent, made even more eery by the decor -consisting of silver serpent heads, dark statues and old furniture- that surrounded Walburga from every angle.
Not that it bothered her. After living in Crabbe Manor, followed by Black Manor and finally moving to Black Residence, she was used to it.
It was home. Besides, there was something captivating about the little silver serpents with glittering green eyes. She spotted them again, that next Christmas, when the family went to Black Manor for a week. Walburga had never payed much attention to her Grandmother Violetta's jewelry before (usually it was quite atrocious) but the silver serpent necklace and earrings, complete with tiny studded emeralds, caught her eye.
She didn't say anything to Violetta, who was clutching a glass of wine and laughing loudly at one thing or another Irma had said (who looked alarmed and was noticeably trying to put distance between herself and her mother-in-law) and Walburga knew that if she did approach her grandmother, the woman would just try to pinch her cheeks or stroke her hair while exclaiming loudly how much she had grown.
Instead, Walburga mentioned the jewelry to Grandfather Cygnus the next day, and, though he told her she was much too young when she stated that she wanted her own set, he looked pleased nonetheless.