(𝟗 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫)
𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟑𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟑 - 𝟏𝟐 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.
"I hate this game," Sirius spoke from his spot on the floor as Alphard beat him in wizards chess for the fourth time in a row. With a defeated sigh, he slumped onto the wooden floor, his pride wounded by his cousin's relentless victories.
Alphard chuckled softly as he reset the wizard's chessboard, his playful teasing evident in his words.
"Ah, nephew, sore losers are no fun, are they?" he remarked, casting a mischievous grin down at Sirius before turning his attention to Regulus, who sat nearby, absorbed in writing a letter on Orion's parchment.
"Regulus, who are you writing to?" Alphard's inquiry cut through the air, his curiosity piqued as he observed his nephew immersed in his letter-writing.
Meanwhile, Sirius's attempts at cheating in their new game of Wizard's Chess were met with Alphard's vigilant watchfulness.
Regulus looked up from his parchment, a faint smile playing on his lips as he met Alphard's gaze. "Just a friend," he replied, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of mystery.
Sirius couldn't resist interjecting, his words carrying a note of teasing banter. "He's writing to Malfoy—after all, he's your only friend, Regulus. And he hardly counts if he's going to marry Narcissa," he remarked, his playful tone underscored by a hint of sibling rivalry.
Laughing at the jest, Alphard interjected with a teasing tone, "You'd be surprised, Sirius. Your mother was very close with Abraxas—"
But before he could finish his sentence, Walburga's sudden entrance into the room brought an abrupt halt to the conversation. Her voice, filled with a mix of amusement and warning, cut through the air, effectively putting an end to any further discussion of her past relations with the Malfoy family.
"Please don't finish that sentence, Alphard," she interjected, her tone firm yet tinged with a hint of playfulness. There was a subtle tension in the air as she spoke, a reminder of the delicate balance between humor and propriety that often characterized their family dynamics.
Smirking at her he let the conversation die then and there turning his attention back to the game.
Walburga, however, glanced at both her boys, before smiling. As time passed since last Christmas, eventually, they all moved on from the hurtful words that were said. Sirius forgot all about what was said when his father gifted him a new record player. Regulus however hadn't forgotten it at all, he went out of his way to avoid being around Orion.
Sitting down, Walburga called for Kreacher to bring her and Alphard wine, while the boys requested pumpkin juice. As they settled into their drinks, Alphard initiated a conversation with a casual inquiry.
"So, have you lot gotten your things for Hogwarts yet?" he asked, taking a sip of his red wine.
Regulus nodded, his expression earnest. Whilst Sirius spoke up eagerly, "I am excited to see everyone again."
"I would imagine, seeing your friends again is the best part of going to Hogwarts really," Alphard mused, his words carrying a hint of introspection.
As he spoke, She couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his demeanor, a telltale sign that his thoughts had drifted to someone specific. She understood without needing him to say it aloud—Alphard was thinking of Ares Carrow.
Coughing slightly to break the somber mood that had settled over the conversation, Walburga spoke up with a hint of playfulness in her voice.
"Why don't I beat you in Wizard's Chess, Alphard?" she suggested, a small smile gracing her lips as she attempted to divert the conversation away from the topic of his lost friend.
Shaking his head with a chuckle, Alphard replied, "Do you boys want to see what happens when your mother loses at Wizard's Chess?" His tone was jesting, adding a light-hearted touch to the moment.
Sirius couldn't resist joining in the banter, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ten sickles says Uncle Alphard wins."
But Regulus, ever the contrarian, chimed in with his bet.
"Fifteen says Mother wipes the floor with him," he countered, a smirk playing on his lips as he added his letter to the pile of outgoing mail.
As they settled in for the game of Wizard's Chess, the competitive spirit in the room was palpable, each participant eager to prove their prowess on the board.
With bets placed and strategies devised, the game began in earnest. As the pieces moved across the chessboard, the tension mounted, with each move bringing them closer to the thrilling conclusion.
It was a painfully long game, as both brother and sister had grown up playing it in the attic of their childhood home.
Alphard, having spent countless hours playing against his sister, knew her moves almost instinctively. He anticipated her every move, countering her strategies with cunning precision. Yet Walburga, equally skilled in the game, remained undeterred, her determination driving her forward as she sought to outwit her opponent.
In turn, Walburga was keenly attuned to the subtle cues and tells that betrayed Alphard's thoughts. She could read the twitch of his mouth, the furrow of his brow, discerning when he was stuck and seizing the opportunity to press her advantage.
"I regret this..." Sirius spoke up from his position on the couch, his voice tinged with boredom as he idly ate a piece of pie. Watching the slowest game of Wizard's Chess unfold before his eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of impatience creeping in.
"Worry not, nephew I am cracking her- I can feel it," Alphard spoke up his eyes not leaving the chessboard.
Sirius glanced over at Alphard, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I believe in you!" He lifted his fork to show his belief only to have crumbs fly everywhere.
Alphard chuckled at the sight, a smile playing on his lips as he watched Sirius's antics. "Thank you, Sirius," he replied with a good-natured grin, his appreciation evident in his tone.
Regulus sat beside Sirius, deftly dodging the flying pieces of apple pie as Sirius's enthusiastic gesture resulted in an unintended mess. Rolling his eyes, "Well, I think Mother still has an edge here."
"Thank you, son," She responded absentmindedly, her focus entirely on the game unfolding before her. With a swift motion, she pulled her hair into a messy bun, a rare display of carefree spontaneity that caught Regulus's attention.
It was as if he were witnessing a white peacock spreading its wings in the open—a rare and beautiful sight to behold.
Even Sirius found it an odd sight; both boys had only ever seen her this carefree when Alphard was in her company. Their uncle was the only person she let her guard down completely—not even around their father was she like that.
"Hah!" Walburga shouted suddenly, her triumphant cry echoing through the room as she looked at her brother with a victorious grin. "I've told you this for years, you need to strategize better, brother," she teased, reveling in her hard-fought victory.
Alphard chuckled good-naturedly, conceding defeat with a gracious nod. "Well played, sister," he conceded, his tone filled with admiration for her skill.
Turning his attention to Sirius, Alphard grinned mischievously. "Sirius, I'm afraid you owe your brother ten sickles," he announced, reminding him of their earlier wager.
Sirius groaned, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the coins. "You're lucky I'm a man of my word, at this point, I am just glad this is over," he quipped, tossing the ten sickles over to Regulus with a grin.
Regulus caught the coins with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Thanks for the easy win."
Alphard moved to help Walburga up from the floor before turning to sit on the loveseat.
"Well, at least now we don't have to worry about Mother yelling at us like she used to for taking so long in games," he remarked, a nostalgic tinge to his voice.
Walburga leaned against the fireplace, her expression thoughtful as she recalled a specific memory. "She never yelled at you, Alphard, much less punish you for any of that," she remarked, her tone genuinely curious.
Her words hung in the air, casting a momentary shadow over the room as the discrepancy in their memories became apparent. Alphard furrowed his brow slightly, his expression thoughtful as he considered her observation.
"She did, don't you remember?" He asked as if she needed help recalling the memory of it.
She met his gaze with a determined expression. For a moment she forgot her kids were sitting in the room as she zeroed in on her brother.
"I remember her yelling at me," Walburga admitted, her voice tinged with bitterness as she recalled the harsh words and stern punishments she had endured.
"I remember her punishing me at the table, asking the house elf to boil water," she continued, each word heavy with the weight of past grievances. "All of that simply because we took a long time playing wizards chess."
In that moment, she was transported back to their childhood home, reliving the moments of tension and conflict that had shaped their relationship with their mother.
Alphard's gaze lingered on Walburga, a mixture of empathy and uncertainty reflected in his eyes.
Shaking his head slowly, he met her eyes with a solemn gaze. "Walburga," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of regret, "I was there - and I can tell you with certainty that you are remembering it wrong."
At that moment, the room seemed to grow still, the silence stretching between them as they grappled with the revelation. Walburga's brow furrowed in confusion, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of Alphard's words.
Both Sirius and Regulus turned to look at each other unsure of what to do.
She shook her head, "Stop that - I distinctly remember Mother dipping a cloth into boiling water and then wrapping it around my hands while you stared at the walls ignoring me. I remember the smell of burning flesh because she used wandless magic to make it hotter."
As she spoke, her voice quivered with the weight of her memories, each word carrying the echo of past pain and trauma. She refused to entertain the possibility that her recollection might be flawed, clinging stubbornly to the version of events that had shaped her understanding of their family dynamics.
"It makes no sense," she murmured to herself, her voice tinged with frustration and bewilderment. She glanced down at her hands as if searching for answers in the lines of her palms.
Druella's words echoed in her mind, a haunting reminder of the complexity of their family's history. Cygnus's recollections only added to the confusion, painting a different picture of their past.
Sensing the rising panic in Walburga, Alphard turned his attention to Sirius and Regulus, his expression grave. "Leave the room, boys," he instructed, his voice firm yet tinged with concern.
Sirius, seeing her begin to pull at her hair and bite at her lip decided to grab Regulus who was making his way towards her.
"Come on, Reg." Sirius urged gently, he had to practically push his brother out of the room. Before closing the door he looked back and saw his uncle grab her shoulders, it almost made him feel bad for her. Almost.
As Alphard approached Walburga, his presence brought a sense of calmness to the room. He reached out and gently grasped her hands, preventing her from further distressing herself. His voice was soft and reassuring as he spoke, "Hey! Hey, it's okay. It's okay. Let me tell you what I remember, yeah?"
Walburga's frantic movements began to slow as she met Alphard's concerned gaze. Her eyes were glossed with unshed tears as he began to speak to her.
☆ ★ ☆
(𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 31 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐨)
𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞, 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟐 - 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐜.
"This game is not as fun as I thought it would be," Alphard whined as his sister beat him in wizards chess, they had been playing for hours in the Attic.
The dim candlelight in the attic cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor as he sighed in frustration. The air was thick with the scent of old books and memories.
Walburga sat across from him, a triumphant smirk on her face as she made her move on the wizard's chessboard.
"You need to strategize better, brother," she taunted, her fingers gracefully moving the enchanted chess pieces. "It's not just about the strength of your pieces; it's about anticipating your opponent's moves."
He ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression a mixture of annoyance and resignation. "I thought this would be a fun way to pass the time, not a lecture."
She chuckled, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, life is full of surprises. Perhaps you'll learn something useful."
She leaned over the board and flicked him on the forehead before turning her attention to four-year-old Cygnus, who had been making faces at one of the moving portraits.
As Walburga turned her attention to Cygnus, Alphard rubbed his forehead, a playful scowl etched on his face. "You're taking this way too seriously, Walburga. It's just a game."
Cygnus giggled at the interaction between his older siblings, his innocent laughter echoing in the attic. Walburga shot Alphard a sly grin before focusing on the curious little boy.
"Ah, Cygnus, my young apprentice," she teased, ruffling his messy dark hair. "Have you been paying attention to our epic battle?"
The four-year-old nodded eagerly, his wide eyes filled with fascination.
Walburga chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with Alphard. "Maybe someday, little Cygnus, you'll challenge our dear brother Alphard."
Alphard leaned back, observing the scene with a fond smile.
They had as promised made a sanctuary of the attic, finding time to come up whenever their mother had left the manor.
He found it to be a haven for them, if it were up to Alphard he could live up there with his sister and brother.
The air in the attic carried whispers of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the occasional clatter of wizard's chess pieces. It became a place where time seemed to stand still, allowing the siblings to simply be kids and not heirs or purebloods.
☆ ★ ☆
As Alphard glanced at the clock, realization dawned on him that they were running late for dinner. Without wasting a moment, he turned to Walburga, urgency flickering in his eyes. "Walburga, we're late!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with urgency.
Walburga's eyes widened in realization, and with a swift motion, she grabbed Cygnus by the hand, her movements almost frantic as she hurriedly made her way toward the attic door. With a sense of urgency propelling her forward, she nearly dragged Cygnus along, the urgency of the situation palpable at every step.
Together, they rushed out of the attic, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the narrow staircase as they descended towards the lower floors of the house.
As they reached the bottom of the staircase she handed Cygnus to Alphard, before trying to fix herself up as best she could. She flinched slightly as they all heard their mother's cackle echoed through the door.
"Seems like Mother's in a particularly lively mood tonight," Walburga remarked, her voice trembling with genuine fear.
As she spoke, there was a palpable tension in the air, as if the mere mention of their mother's mood had the power to set off a chain reaction of anxiety within them all. Walburga's fear was evident in the way her hands trembled slightly, her gaze darting nervously towards the closed door as if expecting their mother to burst through it at any moment.
Holding Cygnus in her arms, Alphard could his brother hide his head in the crook of his neck. He looked to his older sister knowing what was behind the doors that protected them from her.
She had been strong for so long that she was bound to break. Before Alphard could say something, she turned to him with pleading eyes. "Remember our rule? No matter what happens - you do nothing. Look anywhere but at me."
Her voice quivered with vulnerability, a stark contrast to the stoic facade she typically wore. At that moment, it was clear that she was teetering on the edge of her composure, her plea a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control in the face of impending turmoil.
Alphard nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of her words.
As they walked through the door, their mother was seated as she observed their entrance with a scrutinizing gaze. Her smile all but dropped at the site of her daughter.
The candelabras cast flickering shadows on the elegant tapestries, creating an unsettling ambiance. As the siblings took their places at the table, the silence was punctuated only by the distant crackle of the fireplace.
"Why are you late again?" Their mother sneered slightly, her voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere. The command was clear, laced with an undertone of authority that brooked no disobedience. "Walburga, look at me."
The sweetness in her voice was a facade, a thin veil that barely masked the underlying venom.
Walburga's composure remained intact, but fear still lingered in her eyes as she responded, her voice trembling slightly with apprehension.
"I- I am sorry, Mother. It will not happen again. We were simply playing a game of Wizard's Chess in the attic and lost track of time." Her words were a desperate plea for understanding, a feeble attempt to appease her mother's wrath.
"Games," their mother scoffed, the word dripping with disdain. Her eyes flashed with a cold, unforgiving intensity as she continued, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "You should be focusing on more important matters. The Black name requires diligence and commitment, not frivolous activities in a dusty attic."
Despite the fear gnawing at her insides, she summoned the courage to respond, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I understand, Mother. It won't happen again. We'll do better," she promised, her words tinged with a tremor of anxiety.
She looked down at her empty plate for a moment, before looking back up at her mother.
"Tell me Walburga. What do we do to those who disobey their duty?"
Walburga's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to find the right words, her mind racing with the weight of her mother's expectations.
"We... we discipline them," she replied hesitantly, her voice barely audible as she met her mother's unwavering gaze. "To ensure they understand the consequences of their actions and the importance of their duty to the Black name."
"And so what do you think would be a fair punishment for you?"
Walburga's breath caught in her throat as her mother's question struck her like a blow.
Looking at Alphard she found him staring at the wall, just as she had instructed him to. Cygnus had been staring at her as if lost, and her father was simply drinking his wine letting it all happen.
Taking a deep breath she spoke up, "A fair punishment would be boiling." She genuinely believed what she said as she looked at her mother's shocked face.
"Boiling?" she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper as she regarded her daughter with a look of astonishment. The suggestion seemed to pierce through the veneer of control, revealing the depths of Walburga's fear and desperation.
"It would be what I would do if I were in your situation."
For a fleeting moment, her mother's facade of authority wavered, replaced by a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability. "You think that would be a just punishment for you? You think that is what you deserve?"
Not looking at her eyes she looked at Cygnus for a moment before nodding. "I do."
Raising her eyebrows, she smiled slightly impressed, "Very well then, Dot!"
The bruised house elf appeared before her mistress, head bowed in submission. "Yes, Mistress?" Dot squeaked, her large, round eyes darting nervously between Walburga and her mistress.
"Bring me a pot of boiling water," her mother commanded, her eyes never once leaving Walburga's. The unspoken threat lingered in the air, a reminder of the consequences that awaited if her orders were not promptly and precisely executed.
The house elf nodded, disappearing with a pop, leaving behind a disconcerting silence.
With a pop, the loyal-to-a-fault house elf reappeared, clutching a pot of boiling water. The air seemed to sizzle with the tension as the house elf stood, awaiting further instructions.
Walburga's mother, her eyes still fixed on her daughter, gestured towards the pot.
"Pour it here," she commanded, indicating a nearby basin on the sideboard.
The house elf poured the boiling water into the basin with practiced precision, its loyalty unwavering despite the uncomfortable atmosphere. Walburga's mother, her eyes still fixed on her daughter, gestured toward the basin.
The house elf obeyed without hesitation, the steam rising in delicate tendrils, adding an eerie quality to the room.
Walburga's gaze remained fixed on her plate, her hands still clasped in her lap, as if trying to shield herself from the harsh reality unfolding around her. She simply bit her lip trying to avoid it, trying to imagine something else - anything else.
Her mother's cold voice sliced through the silence. "Hold out your hands, Walburga."
The command hung in the air, and a shiver ran down Walburga's spine. With a hesitant breath, she extended her hands towards her mother.
The room seemed to hold its breath as her mother dipped a cloth into the boiling water, the steam curling around her hand like an ethereal shroud. It seemed it wasn't just Walburga who was going to suffer the heat.
As her mother approached, Walburga's jaw tightened, bracing for the inevitable punishment.
The pain was sharp and immediate as the scalding cloth made contact with her skin. A stifled gasp escaped her lips, but she refused to let her mother see her cry.
The house elf, still standing nearby, lowered its gaze, an expression of silent sympathy in its eyes.
"Have you had enough?" her mother hissed, the cloth still pressed against her daughter's hands.
Through gritted teeth, Walburga responded, "No." The words were a familiar refrain, uttered in resignation rather than genuine remorse.
The room was saturated with the acrid scent of burning flesh as Walburga endured the pain, her hands throbbing from the scalding heat.
Shocked slightly by her reply, she withdrew the cloth, leaving behind a lingering discomfort and a sense of submission.
"That was enough." Her mother declared coldly, the words cutting through the heavy air. "You truly are a black. Don't pretend you aren't one when you are willing to go through hell for the name alone."
Walburga fought to maintain her composure, "Yes, Mother," she replied, her voice a strained whisper.
Before the house elf could scuffle away, Walburga dipped her both hands into scorching water. The feeling of skin popping and the heat hurt so much it was almost comforting. A moment later she removed her hands and let the house elf walk away.
Her hands were blistering, she knew she would have to call upon Dot to heal her in her room.
It was a routine in the Manor, she could breathe wrongly and feel the need to hurt herself. It was justification for not being the perfect daughter. There were times wherein Irma never even had to say something, Walburga just already knew how to punish herself.
It wasn't just her mother's disapproval that haunted her, but the relentless echo of her self-doubt. Every mistake, every perceived failure, served as fuel for the relentless cycle of self-punishment that consumed her thoughts.
Irma's presence loomed large, a silent reminder of the unspoken rules that governed life within the Manor walls. Even in her absence, her influence was palpable, casting a long shadow over Walburga's every move.
And so, Walburga found herself caught in a vicious cycle of self-flagellation, each act of perceived inadequacy driving her deeper into the depths of her despair. It was a lonely existence, fraught with self-imposed suffering and the relentless pursuit of an unattainable ideal.
And when it all happened Alphard would simply stare with regret in his eyes not knowing what to do. Other times without knowing it, she would do something and have Alphard blame it on her just to have her mother acknowledge his existence, to have him receive a semblance of motherly love.
The intricacies of their dysfunctional family dynamics played out like a dark ballet, leaving Walburga trapped in a cycle of pain and longing for a connection that seemed forever elusive.
☆ ★ ☆
As he finished speaking, all that could be heard were her cries as she fell to her knees. Alphard grabbing her shoulders fell with her, his expression a mixture of concern and remorse. "Walburga, I'm so sorry,"
Gently, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering what little solace he could in the face of her anguish. Though his words were a feeble attempt to ease her pain, he knew that some wounds ran too deep to be healed with mere apologies.
He held her as she cried out for everything she knew and everything she thought she knew.
"I'm mad, I've gone mad!" She sobbed as he held her.
Alphard held her tightly, offering what little comfort he could as she cried out in anguish. "You're not mad, Walburga," he murmured, his voice laced with sympathy. "You're just hurt."
As her cries turned into yells, he couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't spoken of it all before. Of course, none of the siblings spoke of their childhood because of how painful it was. Walburga must have made new memories of the most painful ones she had.
As she broke in front of him, he couldn't help but feel his tears fall.
In that moment of raw vulnerability, he couldn't help but acknowledge the extent of his failures. He had stood idly by as Walburga bore the brunt of their mother's cruelty, her sacrifices and self-blame a testament to the lengths she would go to protect her siblings.
The memories flooded back with crushing force, each one a painful reminder of his shortcomings.
He remembered the times when Walburga had taken the blame for his transgressions, the times when she had borne the weight of their mother's wrath in his stead. He remembered her desperate attempts to shield him and Cygnus from harm, her unwavering loyalty and selflessness in the face of adversity.
As her cries slowed down and she sniffled, she spoke up "I don't know what I've done. I don't know what I've done?" Her voice was weak as she felt him rub her back.
"You haven't done anything wrong, Walburga," he murmured, his voice a gentle reassurance. "You've carried burdens that were never yours to bear, and you've faced trials that would have broken lesser souls. You did what you had to do, to survive."
He could feel her arms wrap around his midsection squeezing him as if to check if he was real.
"Please," She began to softly sob, "Please don't leave me alone."
Alphard's heart ached at the desperation in her voice, the vulnerability laid bare in her plea. He tightened his embrace, drawing her even closer as if to reassure her of his steadfast presence.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance amid the turmoil of her emotions.
He knew he was lying, but after what he just told her, he wouldn't risk leading her to a breaking point with what he had done to her and her family. That revelation would have to wait another day.
☆ ★ ☆