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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(𝟏 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫)
𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟗 - 𝟏𝟐 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.
Grief had never been her enemy; Walburga had befriended it long ago. However, the familiar pain it brought was something she could never quite tame.
Throughout the week, she returned to her routine, trying to ignore the piles of letters she had saved from him. Cygnus, stopped by the day before, bringing alcohol in an effort to comfort her as Alphard would have. The siblings drank in her potion room, reminiscing about their childhoods. They spent the night drinking and remembering, seeking comfort in each other's company.
"Mother?"
Regulus' voice startled her, pulling her away from the trance-like state she'd fallen into while staring at the fire in her potion chamber. She turned to find him standing by the door, his eyes filled with concern.
She watched as he entered the room, his movements cautious and deliberate. He leaned against her mahogany desk, mindful not to disturb the meticulously arranged ingredients and delicate cauldrons.
The flickering firelight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the worry etched in his features.
"Mother," Regulus' eyes flickered from the shelves lined with potion bottles back to her, filled with worry and a desire to comfort. He took a tentative step closer, his voice tinged with tension.
"I just wanted to say you can talk about it—about him—to me."
She shifted in her seat, feeling the weight of his gaze. She had never spoken to Regulus about her relationship with Abraxas; it was a deeply personal part of her life, something she had kept entirely to herself.
The friendship she shared with Abraxas was a private sanctuary, hers alone.
"Finding a true friend in our world is rare," she murmured, her eyes drifting back to the flames. "I found one in Abraxas Malfoy."
"But he was more than a friend, wasn't he?" Regulus' voice was calm and understanding, as if he grasped the depth of her emotions. "You loved him."
She huffed, shaking her head before looking at him and offering him a small smile.
"All friendship is made up of love, Regulus," she said softly. She placed her hands on her lap and began picking at her skin.
Glancing up at him, she found his eyes filled with unshed tears. "A soulmate and a true love are indeed two different things," she echoed softly, her gaze drifting into the distance as she pondered her words.
"One is fatefully bound to you, destined to cross your path regardless of circumstance; while the other is found, cared for, and pure," she explained gently, her voice carrying a tinge of melancholy wisdom.
