Eternal Despair (Harry Potter/OC)

Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

1987

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows over the quiet street. Laughter echoed from the small park. Two boys, ran across the soft, green grass, giggling with themselves.

Their game of tag was in full swing, each boy taking turns as the pursuer and the pursued, their faces glowing with the pure joy of childhood.

"Gotcha!" Lorenzo cried triumphantly as he tagged the other boy, both of them collapsing into fits of laughter on the ground.

Suddenly the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted their play. Lorenzo's grandmother, Walburga Black, a stern woman with silver hair pulled into a tight bun, appeared at the edge of the park. Her face was set in a disapproving scowl, her eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of the two boys.

"Lorenzo! Lorenzo, come here this instant!" she called, her voice sharp and commanding.

Lorenzo's laughter died in his throat immediately. He scrambled to his feet, brushing the grass off his costly clothes, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"Grandmother, we were just playing..." Lorenzo started, but Walburga was already marching towards them, her expression brooking no argument.

"This is no place for you to be, Lorenzo," she said firmly, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the park. "I've already told you to stay away from these people."

Lorenzo turned around solemnly and watched as the park disappeared from view as Walburga led him away.

-

In the flickering candlelight of the Black Manor, Walburga Black surveyed the room with a look of cold satisfaction. Her pale, mature features seemed even more severe in the dim light. She glanced at her grandson, a child named Lorenzo, who sat with a posture parallel a line.

"Lorenzo," began Walburga, her voice carrying a tone of instruction and authority, as she continued her customary schooling lessons.

"Grandmother..." Lorenzo's small voice echoed into the emptiness of the grand dining hall.

"What is it that makes us superior...?" He threaded the topic lightly, not wanting to anger her.

"We are superior to those whose magic is tainted by Muggle heritage. You are the last Black to carry our family name. Everyone in this family was a proud pure blood Slytherin and the lengths we've gone through to keep it pure. Your abomination of a father got too involved with his muggle friends and now he's rotting in Azkaban."

Lorenzo nodded hesitantly, guilt filling his entire body up, but he didn't dare to express these feelings to grandmother.

"Let's not discuss this matter any further, we are awaiting guests."

"The Malfoys?"

"Precisely, It'll just be the five of us since Ava is out with your grandfather." She nodded, commanding one of the house elves to ready the dinner table before the Malfoys arrive.

As the door closed behind his grandmother, Lorenzo slumped back in his chair, feeling the weight of his family's expectations pressing down on him. He glanced around the grand dining hall, the wall lined with portraits of his stern-faced grandparents, his uncle Regulus Black but absolutely no sign of his father.

He felt a cold shiver as he stared into their eyes.

A sudden pop startled him, and a house elf appeared at his side, its large eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "Master Lorenzo, is there anything you require?" it asked in a timid voice.

Lorenzo shook his head, forcing a small smile. "No, thank you, Freek. Just... make sure everything is perfect for the Malfoys."

The elf bowed low before scurrying off to complete its tasks. Lorenzo sighed, pushing himself up from the chair and walking towards the large window that overlooked the manor's sprawling gardens. He stared out at scenery, his mind racing.

The sound of the front door creaking open pulled Lorenzo from his thoughts. He heard voices echoing through the hall. His grandmother's sharp, tone was unmistakable, followed by the smooth, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy and a high pitched voice, complaining about something which Lorenzo recognized as Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

As the dining room doors opened, his grandmother swept in, followed by Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy. Lorenzo forced a smile and stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Welcome to Black Manor," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Lucius nodded, a thin smile playing on his lips. "Ah, young Lorenzo. It's good to see you again. Your grandmother has spoken highly of your progress."

Lorenzo winced from the wording implying that there was something wrong with him while Draco smirked slightly, a look of superiority etched on his face.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Lorenzo replied, his eyes meeting Draco's for a brief moment.

The group moved to the dinner table, where a feast had been laid out by the house elves. As they took their seats, the conversation turned to recent events in the wizarding world, the resurgence of dark magic, and a brief mention of the boy who lived.

Lorenzo tried listened intently, but his mind kept drifting back to his father and the legacy he was expected to uphold.

"I heard from father that you were meddling with muggles." Whispered Draco as he stuffed his mouth with the food.

"And?" Lorenzo questioned sharply, his temper as thin as ice.

Draco's smirk widened as he leaned closer, lowering his voice further. "And it's not something a true pure-blood would do. It's such a waste that you're the heir of the Black name."

Lorenzo felt a surge of anger but forced himself to stay calm. "Mind your own business."

Draco's eyes narrowed, his smirk fading. "Careful, Lorenzo, you might get disowned like your father."

"I'm not him!" Lorenzo's voice wavered slightly, but he stood his ground, fists clenched at his sides. "I'll never be like him."

"Sure you won't." Draco leaned in closer as he took a sip of his water, "Muggle lover." Lorenzo closed his eyes, he felt the rage bubble up inside him and ready to explode. Just then he heard the sound of glass shattering everywhere following a wail.

Lorenzo's eyes snapped open. The room was a mess, every single glass on the table had shattered. Draco lay on the floor, clutching his arm where a deep cut was bleeding profusely. The shock in Draco's eyes mirrored the horror in Lorenzo's.

"Oh my baby!" Cried Narcissa.

"What have you done?!" Lucius hissed through gritted teeth, fury evident in his voice as he ran to Draco's side.

"I... I didn't mean to..." Lorenzo stammered, taking a step back.

Draco struggled to his feet, his face pale but his eyes burning with a mixture of fear and anger.

Before Lorenzo could speak, Walburga Black dug her nails deep in Lorenzo's arms, her face twisted with rage. "Go to your room! Now!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the chaos.

Lorenzo didn't need to be told twice. He turned and fled, the weight of what had just happened crashing down on him. He ran through the dimly lit corridors of the Black manor, finally bursting into his room and slamming the door behind him. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he leaned against the door.

How had it come to this? He had promised himself he would never let his temper get the best of him, would never become like his father. Yet here he was, the evidence of his loss of control staining the floor of the dining room and the shocked faces of everyone.

All he wanted to do now was disappear.