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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𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟓 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫.
Pollux Black, a cold man formed by being the eldest, he was intelligent. His decisions were well-thought-out, and he knew when to back down rather than fight losing battles.
In the intricate world of the Black family, Pollux's smarts influenced everyone's destiny.
His choices, guided by duty, showed a practical wisdom that set him apart. Behind the stern exterior, he was a man who had successfully dealt with the tricky politics of pure-blood families, even if it meant sacrificing personal warmth.
In contrast to his hot-headed brother Arcturus, Pollux Black had a knack for keeping the family's anger in check.
When the Acolytes arrived, stirring up trouble, Arcturus fought passionately against them.
However, Pollux, wise and discerning, recognized the inevitability of their arrival and understood that resisting them directly would lead to defeat. His ability to control his emotions set him apart from his more impulsive brother.
On the chilly night of December 3rd, Pollux Black sat in tense anticipation while his wife and youngest son enjoyed their dinner.
The air in the room hung heavy with an unspoken understanding. Pollux had made a difficult choice, revealing the family's dealings with Grindelwald to the Ministry.
With a heavy heart, he knew that an attack from the Acolytes was imminent.
The ticking of the clock seemed to echo the approaching storm, and the atmosphere was thick with the weight of the decisions that had been made.
Irma, observant of Pollux's nerves, spoke up, attempting to break the silence. "Worrying won't help us," she said, acknowledging the tension that enveloped them all.
Looking up at his wife, disgust replaced his anger as he leaned over to her. "Listen," Pollux said, his voice laced with frustration and resignation. "You have no say in this, sacrifices will have to be made when the time comes..." His words trailed off as he glanced to his left, catching sight of Cygnus staring up at him from the table.
The poor boy had been the one to see just how abusive his parent's relationship had been.
Yet, he would never tell his sister or brother; Cygnus wasn't blind to the abuse his sister and brother would take. He had assumed that seeing the toxic fights between his mother and father was better than the torment and torture his siblings received.
Clearing his throat, Pollux moved back to his seat. "Cygnus, why don't you go to bed?" he gently suggested, a subtle invitation for the young boy to remove himself from the tense atmosphere.
