ARSONIST'S LULLABY ━━ r. black¹

𝖎𝖎. a bitter pill to swallow

彡 chapter two
( a bitter pill to swallow )

TIME ROTS EVERYTHING. Children are the most innocent, the most pure, untouched by the decay of conscience, yet they grew into bitter adults. Morgana had never understood exactly why she never saw her father. Her grandmother had made simple excuses, talk of business trips and work was enough to keep a child content.

Morgana knew the other girls at her etiquette classes would whisper about her. Looks of pity from the elder ones, sneers from those her age, she was the topic of discussion. A prim, proper girl, born from tragedy, and raised with the firm hand of her grandmother. She was a curious, sullen child, with a sharp tongue, and a furious temper packaged inside doll-like features and prim dresses.

The first Sunday of every month, a package would arrive for her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, affection replaced by mindless luxury, gifts sent from Paris that caused other girls to seethe with jealously, but only served to remind Morgana of how much her father cared. Not one bit.

He did not care when she followed his footsteps to Gryffindor, and he certainly did not care when she was made prefect. He turned a blind eye to her, a reminder of his short lived marriage to Pandora before she met her untimely demise at the hands of childbirth. Morgana was his blood, one half of his soul moulded into a body that was half his, blonde hair, crystalline eyes, a charming smile. Yet to him, she was a stranger.

He certainly was not in his right mind when he sent her a letter on the very first day of term, informing her that her stepmother was now pregnant. The owl had found her in the middle of a party, and she'd ended up crying in the Astronomy tower, before Regulus fucking Black found her and escorted her back.

"I didn't think he had a heart," Salem mumbled, shoving a spoonful of porridge into her mouth at breakfast the next morning, Morgana staring into a mug of black coffee. "Sure you don't want anything to eat? Everyone has nasty hangovers after last night, and you look tired."

"I'm sure," Morgana said bitterly, glancing across the Great Hall to where Regulus Black sat hunched over a mug that spiraled steam into the air. He looked withdrawn, more so than he usually was. His friends hadn't made their appearance, and he sat alone, with solemn eyes and a rigid spine. Regulus and Sirius were two sides of the same coin, the same ichor electric in their veins, and while one was as calm as the sea, the other a reckless typhoon, they were throughly Blacks.

With chiseled jaws, dramatic high cheekbones, smoldering eyes of varying intensity, and charcoal hair, the Black brothers were some of the most good looking of the Sacred 28. Although, the tangled bloodlines and incestuous unions made the task of being attractive rather difficult, Walburga and Orion had done a decent job.

Sirius managed to sneak up on her as if he knew she was thinking about him, slinging an arm around her shoulder, heavy silver rings poking at her skin through her uniform. "You left early last night," he mumbled, his voice soft in a tone he usually reserved for his closest friends. "Everything okay Mora?"

"I'm fine, Sirius," she responded, shifting away from him as McGonagall approached. He slid back down the bench to sit next to James, who had one arm around a serious looking Lily, shooting a final look at a glum Morgana. They'd attempted dating last year, before settling to friends with benefits, and were now just friends.

"Miss Fawley," McGonagall smiled. "Excellent, excellent work on your exams," she added, handing her the timetable she would need for the year. Morgana had taken on a strenuous course load, a half ditch attempt to gain the attention of her father. Ten O.W.L's wasn't enough.

She swallowed the last bit of her bitter coffee, exchanging a nod with Salem and rushing out of the Great Hall for Runes.

It was a difficult subject to qualify for at N.E.W.T. level; only a few students had advanced on, as Professor Babbling only let those with O's continue. She was the lone Gryffindor, a handful of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs crowding together. She sat scribbling at her parchment with a color changing quill, until the familiar scent of mint and cigarettes filled her senses, Regulus Black dropping into the seat beside her.