The Storm | Regulus Black

The Blacks and the Burkes

No one wants to drink out of a broken glass. No matter how perfect it looks, there's always a crack from which water slips and drips out, however paltry the crack may be. Agatha resonated with one the crystal glasses hidden away in the basement of the Burke Manor. As pristine as the rest of the house and the family was, there were always cracks.

As she lied on her bed and stared up at the intricate artwork on the ceiling, she thought feverishly of her chances. What were the fucking odds of this happening to her?

The only thing she could hear was the grandfather clock in the eery hallway. The harsh swallow burning in her throat was all she felt—she hadn't drank water since noon. No one was home, as far as she knew, not even her brother. Caractarus had walked up to her compartment on the Hogwarts Express and notified her—with a suspicious lack of emotion—that he was to marry the Greengrass girl in July. He was supposed to live with her family for a few weeks, as a trial run. It was all a business deal, and Agatha knew he despised it.

The unfortunate conversation reminded her, once again, of the memory from a week ago that was etched into the back of her mind. It wouldn't leave her alone, not for a lack of trying.

"Oh, Agatha, how lovely to see you my dear," gushed Primrose.

Agatha had barely released the hold of her trunk when Primrose speed walked up to her and hugged her.

Even Herbert looked surprised, but only for a heartbeat.

Too much, way too much. She considered this even weirder than her father having stood on the sidelines of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters with the excuse that he was there to 'pick her up.' He hadn't been on the platform since she left for her first year.

She smiled nonetheless. "Hello mother."

"Where is Caractarus?"

There was a crack and Caractarus popped up next to Agatha in the entrance hall.

Primrose had the same kind of reaction to seeing him. It was only this one time that she was kind during their whole holiday, then it was back to being cold and cynical.

"Agatha, let us go into the sitting room. I have exciting news," said Primrose.

Agatha followed her mother into the sitting room and sat herself down on the couch opposite her, which was practically on the other side of the room. It only further proved how much distance the family needed from each other to stay sane.

"The Blacks will be visiting us on the 17th to the 24th of June," said Primrose.

Agatha looked at her mother for a few moments, blinked. "Why, may I ask?"

"You already know why."

The betrothal.

Agatha went into tunnel vision.

No fucking way.

Primrose must have caught the panic in her daughter's eyes. "The Burkes and the Blacks are respectable, noble families. Neither of us would settle for anything less than the utmost amount of perfection."

Agatha sat there, staring at her mother. "I have told you twice now that I do not aspire to be married to Regulus Black—"

Anger flashed across Primrose's eyes before... nothing. It seemed as if she was fighting the urge to rip Agatha's tongue out for her audacity to speak up. But nothing happened.

"Agatha my dear, the only thing we desire from you is offspring. Besides, if it does not work out, we will find someone else for you."

Agatha felt her cold heart freeze and shatter. Ouch.