The Tragedy of Walburga Black

★𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝟏★

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟖 - 𝟏𝟐. 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.

"You're pressing the wrong key," her voice was soft as she sat next to Regulus on the piano bench.

They had been practicing together throughout the summer, and while he was quick to imitate her hands, he often forgot certain keys.

Regulus glanced down at the keys, a hint of frustration evident in his expression. "Sorry, Mother," he murmured, his fingers adjusting to the correct keys under her guidance. Despite his apology, he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment in himself for making mistakes.

Looking down at him, she replied firmly but gently, "Don't apologize, simply do better."

Regulus nodded, understanding the message behind his mother's words. He continued to play the somber notes, filling the home with music that echoed through the halls.

She smiled warmly as she watched the boy play the notes correctly, pride swelling in her heart at his progress and determination.

The home remained silent for most of the summer, with tension lingering between Walburga and Sirius. Despite her attempts to extend endless apologies, Sirius continued to rebel, leaving her at a loss for how to discipline him.

She found herself torn between unleashing her anger toward the boy or simply walking away from his endless cold stares. Each option presented its challenges, leaving her feeling trapped in a cycle of frustration and uncertainty.

In her effort to shield Sirius from muggles and muggle-borns, Walburga inadvertently pushed him closer to that world. Despite her intentions, her actions fueled his curiosity and rebellion, creating a divide between them. 

In that division, she found a hatred of the world she once found fascinating.

Despite all of the turmoil with Sirius, Walburga found solace in Regulus—the quiet one, the son who sought out quiet moments to spend with her during the hot summer days.

"Mother, how was that?" His voice broke her from her thoughts as she looked down to see his wide eyes staring back at her.

"It was fine," she replied with a gentle smile, "I think we can finish for today. You did a good job, Regulus." Her words were filled with pride and appreciation for his efforts, acknowledging his hard work and dedication to their shared activities.

The boy simply shook his head, "No, not until I have mastered this piece."

Her eyes widened in surprise at his determination, momentarily taken aback by his resolve.

"I admire your resolve," she began, her voice filled with both pride and concern, "but we have practiced all morning. I know from experience that your fingers are sore."

"I can handle it, Mother," he assured her, his voice calm yet resolute.

Walburga's concern deepened at Regulus's response, but she also felt a sense of pride in his determination. "Very well," she conceded with a small smile, "But if we are to continue I will need a cup of tea. Take a short break until I return." Her tone made it seem like a duty rather than a request.

Making her way into the kitchen, she asked Kreacher to prepare some peppermint tea for her and Regulus.

As she left the kitchen with a tray of tea, she turned back, "Can you place one more cup? I am going to take some to Sirius. And give me one chocolate frog, Kreacher."

The house elf did as he was told and handed her both items. Kreacher's obedience was evident as he fulfilled Walburga's requests without question.

She passed Orion's study, the familiar smell of expensive tobacco lingering in the air. He had been entrusted with the assets left to him by his father, who had passed shortly after her own. Her aunt, his mother had taken all she had and moved to Paris. She hardly ever wrote or visited the family, it was as if she died alongside Arcturus.