The Tree of Blacks (English version)

Obsidian Mirror - part 1

April, 1977. Grimmauld Place.

The days in Grimmauld Place number twelve unrolled lazily, in a monotonous stillness that Alya felt was almost oppressive.

It was the first Easter holiday the Black family had spent without the presence of their eldest son, Sirius, who had run away from home during the Christmas break.

Having spent most of her time at Hogwarts in the last period, where she and her siblings continued to meet, if only fleetingly and infrequently during the few lessons they shared, Alya hadn't yet had a chance to consciously process that new tragic reality of events.

Although Alya was fully aware that her twin brother had been banished forever from the Black lineage, at the hands of Walburga herself, a part of her still struggled to accept it.

Hence the return home to Grimmauld Place was traumatic. Within the gloomy walls of her abode, Alya felt Sirius' absence more than ever. A deep silence stretched across the flat's many rooms, devoid of the constant bickering between the cold and unyielding Mrs Black and her unhinged first-born.

An excruciating emptiness tore at Alya's heart every time her grey eyes lingered on the imposing family tapestry hanging in the living room. The small burn which had burned Sirius's name from the family tree peered cruelly at her from the wall.

The pain that had pierced her at Christmas, after her brother's escape, soon returned to haunt her. A pain that the girl was forced to keep in silence.

No one else among the members of the noble Black family looked disturbed. The lives of Orion, Walburga and Regulus proceeded quietly, unscathed by the absence of Sirius, as if he had never existed.
To make the atmosphere in the Black house in Grimmauld Place even more distressing were the cheerful evening conversations between Regulus and his parents, which took place during the dinners when the family gathered around the long kitchen table.

It was only a few months before classes ended and the summer holidays were coming; Regulus would soon be packing his bags to travel to the imperious Lestrange Manor. The boy was eager to spend some time with Bellatrix and her husband, Rodolphus, who had invited him to spend the summer with them.

An enthusiasm that was more than shared by Orion and Walburga, who had done nothing but pester their son with recommendations and proud comments throughout the dinner. All three fantasised about the prospects that were coming up on Regulus' way. If he made a good impression on the Lestranges and got into their good graces, he could easily cross the threshold of power and glory.

Regulus, for his part, welcomed with joy and respect the advice his mother and father lavished on him. He would do anything to make them proud and hold the ancient family name so high.

Alya listened in strict silence to that jumble of speeches about her brother's grandiose future and the duties of a good thoroughbred wizard, without taking her eyes off the meal she had barely eaten. Tumultuous thoughts crashed through his soul, like the waves of a stormy sea.

Apparently, the fact that the youngest of their children aspired to become a Death Eater and thus join the Dark Lord's evil coven didn't faze Orion and Walburga Black's good mood in the slightest. On the contrary, it even seemed that such a prospect made them even prouder. According to them, following the path of the Dark Arts laid out by Lord Voldemort would certainly lead Regulus to glory, enabling him to become an important and powerful wizard, capable of great things.

But Alya was not of the same opinion. Practising the Dark Arts never guaranteed anything good. She'd had a taste of that when she'd seen James's hand sliced off by Snape with one of his own spells, obviously steeped in dark magic. It had been a simple skirmish between students, in a ramshackle school bathroom, yet the effects could have been devastating, if Snape had been even slightly more adept at magical duels.