Lionhearted: The Moon Ascendant
Chapter 22
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With the fuss around Valentine's Day dying down, the remnants of it still lingering around the castle in the various types of drama revolving around disappointing dates, break-ups among friends and couples, or conversely the solidifying of couples who had enjoyed it, by the end of the week the forefront on every student's mind was the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin match.
The majority of students in the other houses had already picked Ravenclaw's side in the house cup– Too much bad blood between them and Slytherin house. While Ravenclaws had a reputation for being rather pompous, they were on the whole still less likely to target their fellow houses, and the tension was mounting as the number of incidents and attempts at sabotage increased.
The teachers had needed to crack down on fighting in the corridors and took up monitoring the halls between classes, waiting outside their classrooms to catch team members trying to hex each other or confiscate prank items targeting either house's common room with more frequency. For James and Sirius, this also meant having to take a different approach since the Slytherins were especially on guard, clustering in groups for protection which meant fewer opportunities to use the cloak in the week leading up to the game.
It also seemed that Malfoy had finally figured out a way to thwart them, to their major disappointment. The last time they attempted to set off their final dungbomb on him as he was leaving the Great Hall, they nearly got caught when it immediately rebounded off an invisible barrier around him and instead exploded in the middle of the corridor, alerting Filch who'd been lurking around. Lately, the caretaker seemed suspiciously looking out for anyone targeting the Slytherin Prefect, although James and Sirius couldn't figure out why he'd care.
"Ah well, it was fun while it lasted," James sighed as he and Sirius flopped onto the floor one day after having to run all the way up to Gryffindor Tower after another attempt at slipping a stink pellet into Malfoy's pocket had yielded disappointing results. James had been completely repelled from getting too close, nearly bouncing into a couple of passing Hufflepuffs which would have exposed him under the cloak. And then Ms Norris had seemed to catch his scene and started meowing loudly, alerting Filch who they'd had to escape from.
"At least we got to teach him something of a lesson… Sort of?" said Sirius.
Remus, Peter, and James shared dubious looks. While it was true that Malfoy hadn't been quite as likely to go about insulting the other students, he'd instead just gotten more sneaky about targeting others. For one thing, he'd had taken to having the first-year Slytherins do his bidding– Just yesterday he'd convinced Olga from their year to go hex the Ravenclaw seeker, Lise Curie, to keep her from playing.
"Let's just hope they beat Slytherin for us," Sirius said with a sigh.
Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.
While the Ravenclaw team had put up a good fight, attempting to keep to a strategy of outmanoeuvring the Slytherins and keeping the quaffle moving between the chasers Galilei, Spinoza, and Erasmus, the Slytherin chasers, Prichard, Farley, and Higgs had simply overwhelming force between them due to their larger sizes. It had been a rather dirty game which included one of the Ravenclaw chasers getting pushed into one of the towers, and keeper Baruch Rene being sent to the hospital wing after taking a nasty bludger to the back of the head from McNair.
After that had been a tense half hour under the gloomy skies and light rain, hoping that Curie could catch the snitch before Slytherin scored too far into the hundreds. In the end, Slytherin had won by one hundred and twenty points to the glee of Malfoy, and the deep disappointment of James, who'd painted his face blue, and Sirius his hair for the occasion.
The boys had then trudged back inside with the rest of the rather disheartened crowd as the Slytherins began to celebrate and cheer. Snape, who'd been sitting nearby with Mulciber, apparently having found his way back into the good graces of some of his fellow first years, had caught a look at the Gryffindor boys and looked particularly gleeful, loudly commenting on not being caught dead wearing losing colours.
James had nearly drawn his wand and had to be pulled away since Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were nearby, corralling the students back to the castle to mitigate any post-game fighting.
The Gryffindor common room was especially glum when they arrived since nobody was happy that Slytherin was ahead in the house cup. Instead, the Gryffindor team had started huddling in the corner to strategize, as they would be facing off against Hufflepuff within the next few weeks.
While the last week of February sloughed off into March without much fanfare, the full moon had left Remus with more broken bones than previously. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal him with a quick flick of her wand, but Remus was concerned about the reason.
While his memories of the transformation were still foggy and muddled, he could remember the wolf feeling as if something had been calling out to him which had put him in such a frenzy. This had left Remus feeling uneasy as March began, an unease that bled into the rest of the week the closer the calendar crept to his birthday.
His dreams which usually came as snatches of memories had turned into full-blown nightmares of that night eight years ago, which is how after two nights in a row of yelling himself and poor Peter and Sirius awake– James they'd found could sleep through just about anything– he found himself lying in bed, staring at the canopy of his four-poster until he was sure he could hear their snores before taking his blanket and tip-toeing out of the dorm while his roommates slept.
It was now Thursday before midnight, and the common room was abandoned as he wandered out with his blanket and curled up on the couch by the fireplace to stare into the billowing flames, planning to wait up until the late morning hours so he'd be too exhausted to dream. This week had him feeling antsy, more prone to jumping at the sounds of loud spells or looking over his shoulder whenever they made the trek past the Forbidden Forest on the way through Herbology or flying lessons. But worst of all, he was feeling homesick.
While he was still writing to them weekly, it wasn't the same without his mum around. She would know what was keeping him up at night and she'd pour him hot chocolate and stay up with him, telling him stories until he could fall asleep. Or Dad would let him bunk off homework during the day to go on walks around the woods and fields and tell him about his travels and the magical creatures he'd seen. But he also was feeling ashamed of himself– He was almost twelve! He shouldn't need his mummy to tuck him in at night, and it's been ages, he should be used to the nightmares by now.
Besides that, his mum's letters had been sounding happier since Christmas, after his dad and mum had finally decided on moving once more. In their letters, they'd described the new cottage, which they said had a much larger cellar and field and surrounding woods, that it was further away from any neighbours but still a decent drive to the nearest town for Mum, and they were enjoying themselves packing up and preparing for the move. Dad needed to set up his office, and Mum was having a grand time planning out her reading room. So it was probably better that he wasn't there to be in the way.
He gave a deep sigh before reaching into his pyjama pocket for the piece of chocolate bar he'd been saving, and stuffing his mouth to keep from crying.
"I thought you might be down here," Remus jumped and looked wide-eyed up to find Sirius standing over him, arms akimbo. The older boy took in his tired, teary eyes and chocolate on his face with a raised brow.
"Budge up," he demanded, and Remus made room sheepishly.
Sirius made himself comfortable before regarding him thoughtfully: The look Remus was giving reminded him of a cornered animal, his eyes darting around for an exit as he gulped, and used the gesture of tightening the blanket around him to quickly dab at his eyes.
"You know," Sirius started slowly, "James was planning on corralling the other Gryffindors to throw you a big party tomorrow. Seems to think you're in desperate need of one."
Remus nearly choked, "What?" He asked, looking definitely panicked Sirius decided, and he shrugged. "Don't worry, I'll tell him to shove off for you."
"Oh," Remus said quietly. He should have known.
He had noticed James had been acting a bit more sneaky lately, but also it was James so it'd been easy to chalk it up to him still trying to find a way to prank Malfoy. Secretly Remus had been trying not to feel too left out about it. He'd been conflicted when James and Sirius would come back from roaming the corridors, attempting to track down Lucius, and looking as if they'd have the time of their lives. Even Peter had participated, and now it seemed that James and Sirius especially were more attached at the hip than ever, whispering more amongst each other during lessons and lunch. But Remus hadn't been quite as interested; he'd been preoccupied with trying not to fall behind the other two in lessons, so really he didn't have anyone to blame but himself for feeling out of the loop.
He had contemplated putting off finishing his essays so he could spend more time running amok with them during their free hours, or using History of Magic to catch up on their potions charts, just to feel included again. But instead, it seemed the others had been including him, albeit in their own roundabout way. It was touching… although it still didn't override his panic at the thought of being in a room with so many people paying him any attention.
"Thank you," he told Sirius, looking down at his fingers, feeling guilty he'd been doubting them. Sirius shrugged again, "I know he doesn't mean anything by it. He just doesn't seem to realize that some people don't like big parties."
Remus nodded, and Sirius watched his expression, a complicated look that mixed fondness with that ever-present worry. It was at times like this that Sirius was struck by how he still found Remus harder to read than their other friends. It wasn't a major feeling; day-to-day they got along well with each other, able to bicker back and forth and play around the same as everyone else, and he seemed genuinely nice, it was just, there was still a strange undercurrent sometimes where Sirius felt as though he was missing some important piece of information about the other boy that was confusing him.
It was times like now when he got the feeling that if he started asking too many questions he would be met with brick walls in a way that was oddly reminiscent of his Mother, he thought with some trepidation. She also was the type who also hadn't wanted Sirius asking too many questions about topics she felt him undeserving of knowing about, although he thought that at the very least Remus would be much nicer about it, even if he wouldn't be much more forthcoming.
It was slightly different to James who lacked the ability to articulate what was bothering him due to pride, or someone like Regulus whose refusal to share things probably came from what he thought was benevolence, although Sirius thought it was more condescension. And while Sirius wasn't under any illusions that just because they were friends that they needed to tell each other everything, especially not after all the different sorts he'd grown up with, well, he'd shared with Remus when he was feeling down, and he'd done the same for James not long ago, so it was only fair if he offered to do the same for Remus, right?
"Are you alright?" Sirius asked before his brain could catch up with his mouth, and he changed his mind at the obvious answer, "Or, erm, I mean, you're not feeling ill again, right?"
"No," Remus said quickly, "Not this time, thanks."
And there was that slightly guarded expression Sirius had learnt to expect each time one of them brought it up. The question was, did he try backing off, or should he press forward? Weighing his options, Sirius gathered his Gryffindor courage and took a deep breath.
"Look, I know you don't like talking about it, but well, you remember how Peter was telling us about his dad and how he had that muggle disease? You aren't— It's just the others are worried and—"
Remus looked a little startled then thoughtful, scratching at his hair, and Sirius got the impression he was doing some quick thinking. "I…. It's, well— It's not like what he had but…" He trailed off looking panicky.
"Ah," Sirius said, sounding deeply worried. "I didn't know wizards could even get things like that. We get things like Dragonpox and the like, but I never heard of…"
"We can get just about anything muggles can, according to Dad," Remus muttered, "We just usually can heal them more easily…"
Sirius hummed looking thoughtful again before shaking his head with an accusing frown, "But you said that's not what's really bothering you."
"I did say that," Remus said, looking relieved by the change in topic but he was still refusing to give anything away. Sirius rolled his eyes. It was like herding a Hippogryph, this one.
"Well then, what is bothering you? And don't say 'nothing,' because you and James don't let me get away with that either!" he demanded.
Remus wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or amused. He didn't think he'd ever had someone so interested in digging for answers from him before. He was used to just blending into the background, or with his parents, they usually either understood the things that were bothering him and would comfort him in other ways or else gave him space until he came around. There weren't many people who cared what he felt. And wasn't that such a heartening thought…
He sighed, "Just… homesick I guess," he admitted, hugging his knees tiredly.
"Oh," Sirius said, blinking. What did he have to say to that?
He personally never felt very homesick himself, in fact, he was largely dreading going back home again. But he supposed after meeting the Lupins it would make sense for Remus since he got along with his parents.
"Well…" said frowning in thought, "Your mum and dad came to visit you over Christmas right? Maybe you can ask them to come around again sometime? Or there's Easter break coming up."
"No, I couldn't do that… they have a lot of their own things going on," Remus murmured.
Sirius hummed at that, still looking thoughtful when they were interrupted by a yawn.
"Hey! I thought we were saving the party for the morning!" Said a sleepy James, half sleepwalking with his blanket in tow, bedraggled hair, and eyes bleary without his glasses.
"It's a no-go on that party, James," Sirius told the other boy as he crowded into the middle of the couch, pushing them both over to make himself comfortable, and nearly crushing Remus who looked amused.
"Aww, alright," James yawned his disappointment, before giving Remus a flailing one-armed hug, "Happy birthday anyway."
Remus looked at the clock on the mantle that read a quarter after midnight, "Thanks," he said with a smile.
"Of course, just because you got out of the party doesn't mean you're exempt from the rest of the pranks, since you got me for mine," Sirius warned, and Remus gulped at the prospect. But he couldn't complain; it was rather hard to stay glum when James was splayed out and already snoring hilariously against his leg.
"We should just leave him here for the others to find in the morning," Sirius said, looking over their friend with disbelief, then trying to dodge out of the way of one of James' slippered feet, "Or make him sleep on the floor," he added grouchily.
Remus laughed which turned into a yawn. The common room was comfortable with its squishy couch, crackling fire, and surrounded by the others. Sirius had stolen half of James' blanket, and Remus burrowed into his own before regarding the other boy.
"Thanks for… Well," Remus said softly and already falling asleep, but with enough fondness that had Sirius feeling relieved, his shoulders releasing some tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"You're welcome," Sirius said, "And sorry you're not feeling well,"
"It's getting better," he said with a small smile over James' snoring head.
"Brilliant. Good night then Remus, Happy birthday," Sirius said getting comfortable in his own corner of the couch.
. . . . . . . . . . .
The next morning the boys were woken up by Peter who'd wisely taken advantage of them all sleeping in one place to prank them with exploding balloons, much to the amusement of the few other students who were passing by the common room.
"You had a sleepover without me?" he'd said looking disappointed.
"Sorry mate, I tried to wake you up," said James from the floor where he'd fallen in his fright. He struggled to get up and had to feel his way around without his glasses, banging his shin on the coffee table as he went.
"It wasn't planned," Sirius said with a yawn, "I just came here to get Remus," he said ruffling the boy in question's hair before racing off to get to the washroom before James.
"Sorry Peter," Remus said sheepishly. He still looked tired, but a bit happier than the past week, and so Peter had easily forgiven him.
"I get n-nightmares too," Peter admitted while Remus waited for the other two boys to stop fighting over the washroom mirror, before describing a strange one he'd had recently, which had included being conscripted as a circus attraction and terrorized by evil clowns.
Because the boys had to scramble around to make it to breakfast on time that morning, James and Sirius hadn't time to prank him first thing, to Remus' relief.
Instead, he'd had a nice peaceful breakfast which was broken by the excitement of the mail owls arriving: A large brown owl had landed in front of him with a package wrapped in parchment paper, and James was bouncing next to him in his seat asking what he'd gotten.
The first gift was a large pile of candy from the sweets shop in Diagon Alley, as his mum explained in her birthday letter that she hadn't had as much time for candy-making. The second had been a fascinating mythology book of different cultures, with brand new binding and moving illustrations of the trials of Herakles or the Ennead, a fact that James found incredibly disappointing.
"What else were you expecting?" said Sirius rolling his eyes and then hurrying them along for Transfiguration before James could open his big mouth.
Now that the first years had spent the last few weeks gaining a better understanding of more complicated steps and formulas, the professors were feeling more comfortable in giving them practical lessons again.
Professor McGonagal for example had started the month with a demonstration of turning small objects into birds to start teaching them how to guide inanimate objects to appear as detailed animals.
"They aren't truly living animals," she explained, waving her hand to the cawing crow she'd transfigured from a potion vial, "They are still inanimate objects. However, with magic we are able to have these inanimate objects mimic living creatures. The more powerful the spell, the more detailed and accurate these objects are able to convincingly be transfigured. This is the opposite of transfiguring living animals into inanimate objects, which we will be covering after the break."
After this, she then gave them each a rock of different sizes and which changed hands every class so they couldn't cheat on each other's calculations, and then instructed them on the Avifor spell to turn them into birds, going around the classroom to review each student's work and see how far they were coming along. As it was only the second week of March, most of the class had figured out how to get the proper calculations and were in the middle of practising spellwork. Peter as usual had to be coached through the formulaic process every lesson which they could tell was not endearing him to their Head of House very well.
So far James had been able to make his rock into a clump of very realistic feathers but hadn't managed to get it into a proper shape yet, while Sirius had succeeded in turning his rock into a detailed sculpture of what looked like a raven. Remus was somewhere in the middle, having created what looked like a fuzzy rubber duck, but Peter had so far only managed to produce a brown egg each time. Professor McGonagall sighed as she transfigured it back before dismissing them.
After Charms and Herbology Remus had needed to force James and Sirius to go straight to the Great Hall instead of sneaking off to their dormitory where he just knew they would be stuffing their pockets with joke items if he gave them the chance.
"You're just delaying the inevitable," Sirius teased as he and James allowed themselves to be pulled into lunch by the back of their robes.
In Defense they had moved on to hags and how to defend themselves against them, which included several different spells. One of them was the knockback jinx they'd learned at the beginning of the year, and which Sirius had perfected to the consternation of James who he'd been made to practice with and therefore was the most common target for it. The other was the smokescreen spell which Professor Lenormand was leery of giving them free rein over.
In Potions Professor Slughorn was having them work on basic strength potions in preparation for learning how those ingredients would then be used in their more complicated brother, the Wiggenweld potion, which he hinted might be part of their exam at the end of the year. The class was thus spent working on their individual brews with varying amounts of enthusiasm.
James and Sirius had been determined to beat the other two to the dormitory, so they sped through their brewing and were out the door before Slughorn could finish praising their hard work. Remus had to hurry along with his passable strength potion, trying to catch up to the duo before they could have the chance to go all out in their room, and nearly knocking into Evans and Snape for his trouble. The latter made a show of brushing off his robes before opening his mouth to no doubt let loose something truly caustic, but by then Remus had gotten out of hearing range.
By the time he'd made it to the Fat Lady, he was sweating more in trepidation as he took a deep breath and steeled himself, crossing the common room and opening their door with a shaking hand.
To their credit, Sirius and James hadn't exploded anything in his face as he'd been expecting, although they did cheer 'Happy Birthday' as he took in what they had done with a relieved laugh.
His four-poster, his trunk, his nightstand, all of it was covered in wrapping paper like a series of hulking presents under a hastily constructed banner. The two boys themselves were both grinning under little cone-shaped hats and sitting cross-legged in front of the nightstands they'd shoved together.
"Surprise!" they both called as Remus stepped forward to admire their handiwork, laughing as James grabbed a little green party hat and shoved it on his head.
"Thanks," he said, bearing the hat with good grace. "Do I want to know how you did all this so quickly?" he asked, poking at the wrapping paper warily. He was still convinced that something would explode by the day's end, but for now, he would enjoy it.
"And give away all our secrets?" said Sirius, just as Peter had come in, panting.
"I didn't miss anything?"
"Nah, Petey! Come over here and get your hat!" James called before swooping up to force a purple one over his head.
They spent the rest of their free hour letting Remus open his presents; even more sweets from Peter to add to his collection, a miniature quidditch hoop game that came with a little floating quaffle, and another sweater with little owls on it from Sirius, before spoiling their dinner with cake.
And just as he expected, he was subjected to a second prank after all, when he opened the washroom and gave a shout at the large inflatable clown bearing down from him in the doorway. Poor Peter fainted at the sight of it while the other two bowled over in laughter until they all helped to shove the horrible thing back into the closet where it belonged.
Their laughter continued throughout the rest of the night as Remus discovered shortly that James and Sirius hadn't just wrapped up the furniture: when he unwrapped his trunk he found that nearly all his personal belongings had been individually wrapped as well. So then he'd had to go through the rest of his trunk trying to put things to rights before giving up and starting a war of throwing the shredded paper at each other.
James and Sirius were still sniggering when Remus had to unwrap his pyjamas for bed, then when he unwrapped his four-poster only to find that they'd also gift-wrapped his pillow, and even his toothbrush hadn't been spared! Still, it had been quiet, wonderful, and definitely one of Remus' favourite birthdays.
. . . . . . . . . . .
"Regulus!" Walburga called, barely breaking her stride towards her youngest son's room.
She hardly ever came up here to the topmost floor with her son's bedrooms, usually contenting to have Kreacher summon the boys for her, but lately, Walburga has been having a growing suspicion that Regulus was hiding something from her, a suspicion increased as there was a clatter of ruffling parchment and closing drawers as she approached and threw the door open with a quick movement of her wand.
Regulus was sitting at his desk, a spellbook she recognized from the drawing room and a parchment of notes sitting in front of him innocently.
"Yes mother?" he answered, his face impassive. He'd been getting better at that since sometime around Christmas, although she didn't know how. Still, Walburga had more experience in reading faces, and so was not so easily fooled. She thought she could see panic flashing through his face and she prowled closer, noting him diverting his eyes and the spasm of hands.
"What were you doing?" she asked, glaring down at him.
Regulus passed her the paper of spell notes silently, which she regarded with a raised brow before dismissing it: There was nothing so interesting about the Sonorus spell when Regulus was such a quiet boy, unlike his brother, nor anything interesting in learning about portkeys when just like both his father and brother Regulus also thought they were more practical for transportation no matter her own opinion on them.
With a sniff at being outnumbered on that score, she continued to stare as her youngest son fidgeted in his seat. She was determined to find out what he was hiding.
"Open your desk," she commanded and watched as Regulus did so with a shaking hand.
Inside were several stacks of unrolled letters and envelopes addressed to Regulus in his older brother's hand, her eye twitching at Sirius' handwriting as she picked them up and scanned their contents– It was months later and still she was twitchy at every mention of her eldest son and his rebellious ways. She could feel an oncoming headache even as she scanned the letters, most of them filled with the usual childish drivel about his little 'friends,' although there was something interesting about a secret Sirius would like to show his brother when he came to school next year, and something about having it out for the Malfoy boy.
Walburga took a breath to release the tension she'd been feeling, before regarding Regulus with an unimpressed look. He slumped his shoulders in shame, she assumed for attempting to sneak things past her, and she was very glad that at the very least she still had that effect on her youngest.
"Just what exactly were you trying to hide with these?"
Regulus looked down at his feet. "Well… You always look so cross when we talk about Sirius. I thought you'd be angry if you knew we were still writing to each other," he murmured.
Walburga contemplated this for a moment, feeling out the truthfulness of his concern.
Yes, it was true. She hadn't been handling anything about his brother well, and Regulus had been the one to witness her little episode when they'd heard the news of what happened. It hadn't been her best moment, and she had to press against the feeling of shame that her child had been made to see it. She had been weak, allowing her nerves to get the best of her, and now Regulus was attempting to avoid provoking her further. She felt the shame creeping up that her little boy, not even yet eleven felt the need to protect her.
Walburga knew she wasn't an overly affectionate mother.
She had been raised in a household that, while holding family loyalty and pride as the highest of values, did not believe in coddling their children with things like hugs or kisses at the risk of spoiling them. She'd also learned very quickly after producing her firstborn and then again with Regulus that she was also simply not very tolerant of the things that went into caring for little children. She had no patience for the long bouts of crying, the drool, the changing, nor of the hair pulling. Instead, she'd been very content to leave such matters to the house elves who were both more adept at it, and whose station better befit such activities.
She'd been taught not to give in to tears or clinginess, but to instead encourage the behaviours she wanted in her children by giving them just enough distance to have them always searching for that last bit of approval, by being quick and even harsh to stamp out the unwanted before they could become a habit, and then to only show her favour through either verbal or external means.
This way of child rearing had been validated throughout the generations of the Black family by how prosperous they'd grown, those same methods producing many successful, but more importantly, reputable family members. And she was proud that at the very least Regulus was following that example.
She drew herself up, straightening the brooch at her neck with the family crest etched into it. Even if she didn't have the capacity for big displays of affection, whether, by nature or nurture, that did not mean she did not love her children in her own way. It was impossible for her not to love something that she'd brought into this world with her own blood, sweat, and tears, those who were such perfect mixtures of herself and her husband, and the symbol of the duty that she'd performed for the continuation of her family line. Which is why, she thought as she looked over his little face that was so like Orion's, she had the sudden desire to reward him.
"I see… It is… good of you to think of my feelings. However I will not tolerate you trying to hide things from me," she warned. She glanced towards the letters, pressing against the rising waves of stress that often threatened to overcome her. "I will not stop you from corresponding with Sirius if that is what you wish, although I do hope you're using your position as his brother to discourage him from such unruly behaviour."
"Yes Mother, I am," Regulus said, his face brightening at her words and shoulders loosing their slump, and Walburga nodded once in approval. She still felt wrongfooted as she left the room, closing the door behind her after telling him of her plans to visit Druella and his cousins, if he would like to come along and to be ready to leave within the hour. Regulus seemed excited by the prospect, which helped to soothe some of her nerves.
That had been her original purpose before becoming side-tracked, but still, as she left Regulus' room, she stood on the landing and glanced to the other door on this floor, the door to Sirius' room. It had also been months since she'd ventured in there, since even when Sirius was home it was often the place where they argued, and often where she'd have him locked in as punishment.
She drew a breath before stalking away downstairs towards the drawing room. Her headache was coming back. She summon Kreacher for tea as she settled into one of the chairs near the fireplace, across the wall where the ancient Black Family tapestry hung. Her fingers stroked over her brooch as she contemplated it.
Generations of Blacks were listed here in golden thread, the tapestry having been brought over when Phineas Nigellus' first found this house over a century ago. While the noble Black Family could trace itself all the way to the middle ages as the manorial lords over their land, once the old system had faded away Grandfather Phineas left the manor house to be closer to the Ministry, endeavouring to expand his influence.
From the moment Grandfather laid eyes on Grimmauld Place he'd wanted it. At the time the area had been fashionable, populated all around by important politicians and barristers and lawyers— If he was going to be forced to live alongside muggles, they may as well have been the wealthy ones– and it had been simple enough for him to 'persuade' the barrister who'd owned it to leave before casting every enchantment on it to keep the muggles away for good.
The enchantments still kept the foolish non-wizards from even knowing that the home existed, and it has since survived through Queens and Kings, through several wars both muggle and magical– even the bombings throughout what had been her fifth year at Hogwarts. That is why this house held a different sort of pride for her than the manor, that this legacy of her forefathers has survived through everything even despite the threat of the muggles themselves, and therefore gave her hope that wizarding kind could survive the Muggle-borns and their ever-increasing encroachment of their spaces and culture.
She witnessed it throughout her schooling at Hogwarts, when she went to Diagon Alley or read the Daily Prophet, and even all the conflicts throughout her formative years could be traced back to the muggle problem– When she was younger, she'd held hope that this would change when Grindelwald was rising to power.
She'd been too fresh out of Hogwarts and too focused on situating herself at the time, and although he hadn't operated directly in Britain, in Europe it had seemed that he would have been the one to rise up and liberate wizarding kind. Only then, the man who was said to be the greatest dark wizard of their time went and got himself defeated by the muggle-loving Dumbledore! What a major disappointment.
Now there were rumours of a new 'dark' wizard on the rise; many of the young witches and wizards of her nieces' generation were willing to fight alongside this new Dark Lord in his bid to take over the ministry. And good fortune to him! She herself planned to wait and see how far he'd get, although she was leery of putting her faith in another wizard who was just as likely to fail and end up just like his predecessor, when Dumbledore was still alive, well, and feared by other wizards.
Kreacher appeared at her side with her tea, and she sat waiting for it to help soothe the restless feeling in her chest as she traced the names of her family connected by golden vines, from her father and mother to herself and Cynus, to where it ended at Sirius and Regulus.
She'd always known that it was her destiny to become a mother and bear children that could inherit the legacy of her forefathers. Her own parents had wanted a boy to solidify their inheritance of the ancestral homes, and throughout her childhood, they bore the disappointment of her birth. The year Walburga had turned thirteen is when Cynus had been born, to the great relief and excitement of everyone else in the family, and to her own bitterness.
After all, their parents had lost most of their interest in her when they had a new baby boy, a new heir to raise. It was then that Walburga had been faced with the question: What would she have left from the family that she'd been raised as a source of pride to be a part of? Perhaps in part that is why she'd been so happy to marry Orion.
It was better for her to have something of her family's to call home as recompense, the London house that this branch of the family had been calling home for a near century, rather than getting married off to some other strange pureblood family and having nothing. She was content with her lot in life, now, but perhaps it'd been some of her old bitterness that fueled her feelings of triumph when her brother and his wife still ended up with only daughters on all three tries, while Walburga had given birth to two sons straight away.
And perhaps that is why all of her troubles were happening now.
Perhaps it was her fault that her firstborn son had become such a rebellious, ungrateful, disagreeable child? Perhaps this was karma for filling his head with so much praise when he was young, for allowing him to go on believing he was better than his older cousins just because he'd been the heir? It was her fault for being too proud to recognize just what she was turning him into.
Her husband seemed to believe that there was still a chance to make Sirius see reason, that it was simply because it was his first year and therefore his first taste of freedom that had him acting out. But Walburga wasn't as convinced.
Orion had always lived his life with the assurance of being the heir of his side of the family, so he'd never had to experience the anxieties or fear of removal. But it wasn't the same with Walburga.
She had grown up with the knowledge that she was replaceable, that either not showing enough loyalty to the family, or being born wrong were good enough reasons to be cast off. After all, that's exactly what had happened to one of her uncles, the one whose name Walburga couldn't even find, as it had been blasted off this very tapestry before Walburga had even been thought up. Instead, a scorch mark took its place.
The very first time she'd seen the tapestry, she'd been enchanted by it: By seeing her proud and noble genealogy laid out before her the feeling of belonging when she saw her name in connection with all the other Blacks in gold. But it had also frightened her to be presented with the evidence of all the other Blacks who'd been removed with scorched marks replacing where their names should be, and especially to see so many marks so close to her own name, clustered more on her branch of the family against the unblemished branch of Orion's side.
It haunted her back then when they first got married and she had felt the desperate need to prove that she could add value to the family, something she thought she'd proven with the birth of her sons and the continuation of the male line. But it haunts now as she stands, approaching the tapestry to trace the fabric connecting her own name to the burnt hole where the name of an uncle she never got to know should have been, as she wonders to herself if maybe that shameful connection has followed her here after all.
"Mother?"
Walburga snatches her hand away as Regulus appears at the drawing-room door, peering at her curiously. She straightens immediately, annoyed to have been caught off guard.
"Ah, so you are ready. Come along then, Regulus," she says as she sweeps out of the drawing room and tries not to feel as if she is running away.
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I decided to strengthen the references JKR made of Bleak House by Charles Dickens and used some of this as inspiration for Walburga and her backstory. I hope you enjoy my take on her character! I found it so interesting how the books show us through her portrait and Sirius that she ended up… like that, but then Kreacher for example describes her as being heartbroken by Sirius 'betrayal.' I feel like she has to be somewhere in the middle.
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