[COMPLETED] 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 s...
It was early, far too early in the morning when he awoke the sun hadn't risen. Turning in the warm bed he glanced at his wife.
Her peaceful expression hinted at dreams yet to be interrupted by the demands of the day.
With a delicate touch, he traced circles on her belly, feeling the warmth beneath his hand. She had been nearing 4 months of her second pregnancy.
The second one wasn't as easy for her as was her first, he noticed her vast change in mood over the course of the past months. She was melancholic- more so than she usually had been.
Much of their time together was marked by her frustration, often expressed through heated moments of yelling, especially when he had to leave their home.
Yet, he weathered the storms of her emotions, at least that is what he told himself. He would be lying if he hadn't given in and fed into her anger, their fights echoed through the home.
Sirius, of course, had no idea of the vast distance put between his mother and father. Orion found his son simply laughing at the chaos as his mother would shake in anger and cry.
As he sat up, careful not to disturb her slumber, the room was filled with the quiet symphony of early morning sounds—the distant chirping of birds, the rustle of cold wind in the breeze, and the muffled hum of a waking world outside.
He slid out of bed, leaving the comfort of their shared warmth. The cool floor beneath his feet served as a reminder that the day awaited, a canvas yet to be painted with the hues of experiences.
Silently, he gathered his thoughts and prepared himself for his day at the ministry.
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𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟏 - 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜.
Arriving at the ministry, he made his way to his office but not before running into the one and only Septimus Weasley.
"Orion." Septimus smiled as he greeted the tall man.
Orion simply stopped in his tracks. He stared at the ginger-haired man, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a cold intensity.
"Blood - Traitor," Orion's voice cut through the air, the sternness in his tone matching the severity of the accusation. The corridor fell silent, tension thickening as the weight of those words hung between them.
Orion's glare bore into Septimus, revealing the depth of emotion and conflict that simmered beneath the surface.
Septimus raised an eyebrow, a defiant glint in his eyes. "Is that the best you've got, Orion? Weasley blood runs deep, and some of us choose a path beyond the narrow confines of tradition."
