The Tragedy of Walburga Black

☆𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑𝟎 ☆

(𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧.) 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟐 - 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐜.

"You're hogging all the chocolate!" he teased, reaching over to playfully snatch the wrapped chocolate frog from her hands.

Candles flickered everywhere, their warm glow casting soft shadows across the attic.

Walburga had insisted on gathering them from various corners of the manor, and now they illuminated the cozy space.

Alphard and Walburga took turns lighting each candle, the flames dancing gently as they brought a comforting ambiance to the room.

Across from them, Cygnus sat quietly, the four-year-old captivated by the moving portraits of their ancestors that adorned the walls. His young eyes widened with wonder at the sight of long-deceased relatives waving and smiling in their frames.

On the expensive yet forgotten carpets spread across the floor, Walburga and Alphard reclined comfortably, indulging in sweets and treats they had found tucked away.

The air was filled with the soft crackling of the fire, the scent of melted wax, and the occasional giggle from the children as they enjoyed their impromptu gathering.

Walburga smiled, as she sat up she looked at him. "It is not my fault you ate all of the sugar quills!"

Alphard grinned back at her, crumbs of candy still on his lips as he chuckled.

"Well, someone had to make sure they were safe to eat," he retorted, his own eyes twinkling with shared humor.

She shoved him, as he sat up before shaking her head.

"I wish it was always like this," she confessed softly, her voice carrying a wistful tone.

Standing up, she stretched her arms out, as if trying to capture the fleeting warmth and contentment of the moment.

"Just the three of us, here..." Walburga continued, her gaze drifting to where Cygnus sat enthralled by the portraits.

Alphard chuckled warmly, setting aside the remnants of their sweets he remained sitting.

"We should have stayed here, shouldn't we?" he spoke softly, his voice carrying a hint of regret.

Walburga turned to him, meeting his gaze with a mix of understanding and introspection.

She sighed softly, her thoughts turning inward as she considered his words. "Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alphard nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on the portraits of their ancestors that adorned the walls.

"It's where we belonged, Sister," Alphard murmured, his voice carrying a certain sadness, tinged with regret. "But not where we were made to be."

Walburga listened quietly, her gaze softening as she met her brother's eyes.

"I do not wish to wake," Walburga whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the tranquil stillness of the attic.

"I wish to stay here. Let me stay here in this moment with you. Please."

Alphard's expression softened at her words, a tender understanding passing between them.

He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, a silent reassurance of their shared bond and the unspoken longing they both felt. With a tender gesture, he guided her back down towards the plush carpet.