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...
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𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖 - 𝟏𝟐 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.
Halloween had always been a memorable occasion in the wizarding world. Walburga fondly recalled dressing up Sirius when he was just three years old, adorning him in a pumpkin costume.
The little boy had screamed bloody murder until she offered him a lollipop. After that, she quickly learned her lesson and refrained from dressing him up again.
Sipping her pumpkin ale, Walburga observed the scene unfolding outside the large window. Muggle women adorned in witch hats, children dressed in peculiar costumes—she found it all rather odd.
Yet, amidst the festivities, her thoughts still drifted to Sirius, wondering where he was and what he was doing at that very moment.
With a sigh, she turned away from the window, adjusting her long gown. She had been alone, save for Kreacher, who had been busy preparing her dinner. Orion and Regulus were both away, engrossed in the tedious missions that demanded their attention.
As she walked down the hall, Walburga paused in front of the family portrait that hung on the wall. It had been moved when Sirius ran away, but now, as she stared at it and raised her hand towards his figure, she felt an overwhelming sense of numbness wash over her.
He hated her; she supposed it was better that way. She didn't regret the things she said or what she did because she knew he was free.
The familiar sound of someone apparating into her home startled her, causing Walburga to jump away from the portrait in surprise. Collecting herself, she quickly made her way into the main room, expecting to find either Regulus or Orion. However, she was taken aback to see a visitor standing there instead.
She observed his tall figure as he slouched against her leather couch.
With a furrowed brow, Walburga approached him, setting her ale down on a nearby table. "Regulus is away with his group tonight. I don't expect him back until dawn," she informed the boy, who looked up at her.
He remained silent, his eyes resembling moons in their wide-open state, while a large gash marred the left side of his face, stretching from his eyebrow to his jaw. He looked in a catatonic state.
"Bartemis Crouch!" she yelled, attempting to jolt the boy out of his evident state of shock.
That seemed to work, as the boy began to blink and breathe once again, "Junior." was all he muttered as he looked at the wooden floors.
"Just call my Junior." He spoke again, as she moved to sit beside him keeping her distance.
"Why are you here?" Her voice was unintentionally cold, though she did not care to try and be someone else in front of the boy who wasn't her son.
