In which the untold story of Walburga Black unfolds.
She was a witch before she was a wife, mother, and cruel woman.
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"You failed as a mother; I failed as a son. Can you sit here truthfully, and say you love me? Look in my eyes, and say that you...
She took a deep breath before continuing, "Our roots run deep, Alphard. For better or worse, this is who we are. Leaving may seem like an escape, but it's a void that only grows larger. Our struggles, our history, they've shaped us..." Her eyes went wide as she continued trying to find words.
"...and I can't imagine facing them without you and Cygnus by my side. So, let's face this together, as a family, flawed as we may be." The vulnerability in her words echoed the pain of past attempts to break free, and yet, there was a determination to find strength in the ties that bound them.
At that moment, Walburga bared not only her fears but also her hope that, together, they could weather the storm of their family's legacy.
He let her go, releasing her hands, and for a moment, their world stood still.
The weight of unspoken emotions hung in the air as Alphard gazed into his sister's eyes, understanding the depth of her plea.
Finally, breaking the silence, Alphard spoke with a quiet resolve, "You - you will always have me by your side when you need me. After all, it will always be you and me, and Cygnus. We are in this together."
"Thank you," she replied, her voice holding a mix of gratitude and determination.
They stood together inside the Manor, in front of a window overlooking the garden adorned with roses.
☆ ★ ☆
𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟗𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟏 - 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.
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As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow across the Manor, Alphard had once again left his sister to 'handle' business matters. With her father gone to have dinner with her aunt and uncle, Walburga found herself once again alone.
As she stood by the window, once again gazing out at the garden where the roses still held the remnants of daylight, Walburga contemplated the complexities of her situation. Taking a breath she found herself almost wishing her mother were here to scold at her.
The absence of her mother, though marked by the relief from harsh criticism, now felt like a void. In the quiet moments, as the shadows lengthened, Walburga longed for the stern voice and disapproving gaze that had been a constant in her life.
The familiarity of her mother's admonishments, though painful, provided a sense of structure and certainty amidst the tumultuous emotions swirling within her.
"Dot!" Walburga yelled as she turned away from the window and towards the coat stand that lay in the hall. The urgency in her voice echoed through the empty corridors, breaking the silence that had settled with the setting sun.
Moments later, a house-elf named Dot appeared, appearing out of thin air with a swift pop. "Yes, Mistress? How may Dot be of service?"
"Prepare my cloak, please. I need some air," Walburga instructed her tone a mixture of command and a plea for respite. Dot, with a nod, disappeared once again to carry out her mistress's request.
