The Tragedy of Walburga Black

☆𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐𝟏☆

( 𝟏 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫)

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟏𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏 - 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.

As the month faded, Alecto and Walburga rarely spoke of their roles in each other's lives. The young Death Eater had become another weapon in the escalating war beyond the walls of Grimmauld Place.

To Walburga, Alecto seemed to channel her anger toward the innocents and traitors she encountered, fueling the conflict with her wrath.

It did not escape her notice how bruised and exhausted Alecto looked upon her return, just as battered as her brother. Both siblings were succumbing to the pressures of their identities and the roles they were forced to play.

Barty Crouch Jr, however, seemed to thrive.

The young man had regained control over the narrative of his life, driven by a singular goal: vengeance.

It became clear that Barty was blurring the line, using her son's death as a pretext to justify his malevolence.

Meanwhile, Walburga struggled against the encroaching madness. She fought with all her might to quell the pain and anguish within her.

More often than not, she succeeded in silencing the voice that urged her to join her son on the side.

Other times, she could hear a voice when the house was quiet and the Carrows and Crouch were gone.

She would spend hours searching for him, yet the voice never revealed a face.

Regulus, however, did appear to her—still silent, still solemn. She always tried to hold him in her arms, but she touched nothing but air.

She didn't care if it was all in her head; what mattered to her was that he still visited her.

Sighing, she refocused on the potion she was working on. She hadn't brewed a potion since before her life lost its color. But with the constant need to heal the trio who stayed with her, she began to work diligently, brewing something to ease their pain.

As she began to tear apart fairy wings, she heard the voice again. "You are being too harsh with the wings; the potion will sour if you don't take your time."

It was dreamlike, and her eyes widened as she turned around, seeing nothing—no one.

"Regulus?" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She knew the voice was not his. It lacked warmth; it was cold and demanding.

Yet, something about it made her feel as if her madness had meaning. She could no longer differentiate reality from fantasy.

She didn't know if the voice was inside her head or not.

With trembling hands, she returned to her potion, her mind racing.

Shaking her head, she bit her lip, the action making her lips grow red and slightly swollen.

"Reveal yourself, please," she whispered loudly into the potion chamber, her voice tinged with desperation.

She waited, breath held, half expecting an answer, half fearing what form it might take.

"Regulus?" she spoke, her voice trembling slightly as she finished preparing the potion and poured it into three separate bottles.

"Regulus, please, if it is you, let me speak to you," she pleaded, her words hanging in the air like a fragile hope.

She would have appeared a madwoman to anyone who witnessed her in that moment.

Her hair, down and wavy, was a bit frizzy from lack of upkeep, contrasting with the pristine gown she wore. She had made a promise to Alecto that she would wear her gowns again if the girl would promise to dye her hair brown at some point.