𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓, 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 [𝐇𝐏]

Prologue. [✓]

ＰＡＩＮＴ ＩＴ, ＢＬＡＣＫ.

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      Walburga, the lady of House Black, stood in the ruins of her once-proud life. She lost everything irreplaceable through her greed and unwavering commitment to a way of life that demanded loyalty to Family and ideologies above everything else. Her reputation tarnished but salvageable within the purebloods that weren't affected by the war. Though the outcomes did shatter her pride, She could manage that. Her husband on the other hand, couldn't stomach it- and had left her in still silence, no longer disillusioned by the words of others, now only disillusioned by the bottle that sat next to him.

No, what truly wounded her was the untimely loss of Regulus, her perfect son, as she had always believed him to be. The son who should have been the one to live on and bring only pride to the family, but fate was cold and cruel, more so than Walburga ever could be.

The son who survived had long become a ghost in her life, unreachable in every sense of the word, both figuratively and literally.

Sirius, the son she didn't love—perhaps, at some point, she had loved him—had only disappointed her repeatedly. Some sort of resentment replaced any affection she had for the boy, but she was more so just disappointed with him. Sirius seemed only capable of disappointing her; when Tapestry showed he dared bring a child into the world with someone she deemed utterly disappointing, Pride held her back from saying anything. Sirius was no longer her problem, thus trapping her in a cycle of suppressed emotions and unresolved conflict.

In truth, she wasn't disappointed or angry anymore, hadn't in a long time; "indifferent" was likely the most accurate word to describe her feelings as she was handed the infant—the very embodiment of her estranged son, left behind after Sirius was foolishly captured and whisked away to Azkaban and the other parent seemingly vanishing into thin air amongst the chaos. She felt indifferent to the way the infant quietly sobbed in her arms. Each sob becoming a reminder of the warmth that was absent between them; perhaps it was because he did not recognize her warmth, or maybe he sensed that something was wrong.

Perhaps the grief of losing Regulus had softened her, breaking down her walls just enough and allowing her to see beyond the boy's origins and disappointing parentage. Maybe it was how the baby gazed up at her with no hatred or fear, just teary, innocent brown eyes—just vulnerability that somehow reached into the depths of her cold heart. Yet, she'd never admit that to anyone, not even to herself.

Walburga understood that she shouldn't have Marius Regulus Black; the boy should have been in the care of anyone but her. She had alienated her eldest son, driving him away and ultimately disowning him. However, fate was cruel to her and had a way of turning her past choices against her. Now, she faced the bitter reality that she had no choice but to raise his son, a constant reminder of his father's defiance and one she could not turn her back away from. Much like another in a very similar situation to her.

The only difference, however, between Walburga Black and a former Petunia Evans was that Walburga took nothing out on the child.

"Toujours Pur."

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Upcoming, Chapter 1.

Hogwarts, 1976, and October 30th, 1981.