The Pureblood Princess | Sirius Black

|106| Gibberish

Adelaide's arrival home did not go the way she expected.

Though, to be fair, her expectations were perhaps a tad unrealistic. They mostly revolved around her mother, in a blind fit of rage, evil cackles, and ominous thunder/lighting, zapping her with the cruciatus curse whilst Adelaide wiped her shoes on the welcome mat.

Not only was it impossible to have thunder and lightning whilst within the manor, but they didn't even own a welcome mat.

Still. Even if she had been more realistic, it wouldn't have been what she expected.

After the familiar swirling pull of apperation, Adelaide's feet found themselves no longer situated on the platform of Kings Cross station where she'd said her last tearful goodbyes, but rooted upon the sprawling grounds of Fawley Manor in all its summer splendor.

It was late afternoon, and the freshly bloomed roses danced in the breeze, speckled with the gold setting sun that peaked through the bows of ancient oaks high above. The lawn and shrubs were the perfect balance of wild yet manicured, lining the long walk to the stone steps to the front entrance. Everything was so colorful and blossoming and overflowing with life... It almost made the Manor seem like a happy place.

Up ahead, her father stood tall and proud in dark blue robes, one single sprig of pale blonde hair jostled out of place and flapping in the wind, her trunk and Berwin's empty cage levitated at his side.

"Adelaide?" he called.

Adelaide, unable to stop herself, picked a single cream rose at the stem then half-jogged the short path to the door.

She froze at the threshold.

Her father stood just inside the grand marble atrium, flicking his wand and sending her belongings up to her room, presumably.

And just beyond him stood a woman.

Her dark green robes shimmered when they caught the light, her dark hair pinned up with an elegant jeweled barrette. She was turned away, so Adelaide couldn't see her face, only her silhouette. Her wand flicked through the air as if it was an extension of herself, igniting chandelier candles and calling bouquets of flowers into existence upon table tops and the mantel piece.

One would never guess that very same wand, which was now being used for interior decorating, had performed an unforgivable on her daughter just months prior.

Of course, that was the only thing on Adelaide's mind.

She fiddled with the rose, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, trying to not show weakness. "D-dad... um..."

Her parents turned in perfect unison.

Adelaide made a point to look only at her father. He was there, she reminded herself. There was nothing to worry about as long as he was there.

"Dinner is in an hour," her father said. "Why don't you go to your room and freshen up?"

Adelaide picked off a thorn from her stolen flower and took a rattled breath, then lurched forward.

When she reached the staircase, hand grazing the smooth banister for support, she thought she'd successfully avoided any further social interactions. She was wrong.

"I laid out a dress for you—" Cathryn said quickly.

Adelaide peered back at her, more out of reflex than conscious thought.

Cathryn's dark brows furrowed, creating creases in her forehead to accompany the dark circles under her eyes. She held her wand horizontally in both hands, tapping her fingers against the wood, almost as if she was nervous, and her hair had many more grey streaks than Adelaide remembered... it was all very odd.