The Empress of Magic

Chapter 119 : To Love and Heal

There was something very lonely about walking through the memories of one's own ancestors Regulus thought, passing by the hunched-over figure of Cressida Black as the young witch continued to cry and wail while sitting in a pool of her own blood, the bottom half of her green nightgown soaked in the same ruby substance, completely unaware of his presence.....

Cressida Apollonia Black was born in the early seventeenth century to her parents Danica and Eridanus Black, and was the youngest and only daughter out of their six children....

Married off at the age of eleven to another French Pure-blood twenty-six years her senior, she had received recognition from Dionysus around her sixteenth birthday.. The very same day she unfortunately had gone through her fourth miscarriage to date..

Regulus only knew very little about Cressida, since she had died at thirty from childbed fever after delivering a healthy boy and only child, but what he did know was that she had been greatly fascinated by the Dark Arts, particularly spells and Potions that could alter ones state of mind..

Her section in the Black family's Grimoire was one of the most frequently visited and browsed through, especially by Bellatrix, who had added several anecdotes and notes to the pages in the years since she had first been allowed to view it by herself.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that she out of all Black family members would have managed to catch the attention of their godly ancestor, but he had to admit that he would have never guessed for it to have happened when she was just a year older than him, after having seen others of their lineage be claimed when they were double or even triple their ages.

Dionysus was incredibly picky when it came to granting his descendants his blessing, and even stingier when it got to the point of actually claiming them.

The god mostly favored the woman of the family, several of the memories he had gone through having belonged to the female members of his family, with a few exceptions like Rigel and Altair Black, who had been able to prove their worth by skillfully avoiding being sighted by a group of monsters and killed them in an ambush, but even they had been denied the opportunity of being gifted a weapon to call their own.

Doombringer specifically had not seen the light of day or been handed to a legacy belonging to the Black family since the death of Maristela Black in 1492, and the woman had died by being beheaded with the very same weapon she had carried....

The rivalry between Roman and Greek demigods was quickly forgotten when it came to dealing with the children who had fled their ranks to join Camp Primordials as it turned out.

All three camps had kidnapped, killed, and tortured others in the name of glory to their respective ancestors, and Regulus was left to watch as his own family was either killed or fought to kill others to protect what they considered to be theirs.

It never ended well when a Black was called onto a battlefield, not now and definitely not in the past millennia when they could let their bloodlust run free and unleash what could only be described as savagery upon their enemies.

, Yet another tragedy in the long list of losses and the tapestry of madness we have created for ourselves....' thought the young man as he continued walking to the next memory Dionysus had decided to prepare for him, apathy clouding his eyes.

No matter how loud he screamed or tried to claw his way out of.. whatever spell or contraption the god of madness had built to keep him here would not let him go. At least not until he had seen everything the immortal wanted him to see.

, ... This.... is Grimmauld Place.....' thought the Slytherin, stepping into the familiar halls of his childhood home, the sound of screams and yells leading him toward the front entrance.