Shadows of a Black Rose..

Fragments of the past...

"This way, please. Cassandra's voice echoed though the dark corridors of Grimmauld Place, "Come with me, I'll take you to your offices. Walburga walked after her, each step heavy as the weight pressing on her chest. As they approached the manor house, which must have been grand at one time, the stone steps leading to the entry seemed almost alien, and its grandeur had faded into a maze of lost glory.

Walburga followed their path with her eyes as they walked and once more fell in its well-trodden lines. Every curve, every hall served as a reminder of the life she had traded for one that felt like a ghostlu existence. Cassandra, with the proud Lestrange air she wore like armor, strode forth at the front, riding and walking ruggedly on her beautiful posture and regal dignity. But to Walburga, the manor seemed haunted with ghosts of yesteryear, its shadows nothing more than memories mirroring what had been lost.

Cassandra paused at a door, hand barely touching the handle. 'You'll be in here when I'm not using you,' she said, the tone light and almost offhand. 'Make use of it as you wish. You probably wont be able to work alone very much at all. What brought you here, anyway?

Walburga took in a breath and entered, noticing immediately someone she recognized right past the door frame. Before her stood a former lover; a woman whom Walburga once held dear in the confines of her heart, the name soft and gentle as it poured from Walburga memories. Now, her eyes held no recognition — her whole being indifferent, how strange.

Sudden panic climbed up Walburga's spine. She edged forwards, suddenly a heavy feeling in her chest. "Do you... do you remember me?" Her voice was shaking as she asked. "I—"

The woman blinked, confused. You're not familiar to me, I'm sorry," she spoke softly. 'I Can't Imagine We Would Have Met'

The words struck Walburga as if she had been physically hit. Her mind was racing, trying to reconcile herself with this disconnection. How could that be the case, that someone so integral to her past didn't even remember her? And in that instant, it dawned on her with the force of a tidal wave-the memories of her former life, of the love she had shared, were all gone. She had lost more than time; she had lost her very essence, her identification with this man.

As the woman turned away, Walburga felt the weight of her own disintegration. The room blurred around her as her vision clouded with tears. She stumbled out, her heart aching with a grief she couldn't fully comprehend. Endless before her were the hallways, and every step echoed her anguish.

Walburga went into a small, secluded bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Just sobs filled the room. She continued sobbing for hours, with her tears drenching the worn fabric of the bedding. Raw and relentless, each sob was like a pain reminding her of what she had lost: her own fractured identity reflected in the harsh mirror of her former lover's indifference.

Through her tears, her mind wandered to the life she had built in the years since her past was erased: a family now, a husband, and children who depended on her. The irony was pitiless: she was living a life she had never intended to, a life that was both a haven and a prison.

The storm of tears wore off, finally, and Walburga lay there-exhausted and empty. She lay in bed under the gloom of the night, her new reality weighing heavily upon her. The love she once knew but an echo was now a haunting memory, of times from another era. She stared at the ceiling as the thought struck her that she had built her new life, while the pieces of the old one were scattered and lost in the void of forgotten memories.

In the privacy of the bedroom, Walburga realized that the girl she used to be was gone and she had become a woman to whom the past was just something over which her fingers could no longer brush. She lived a life with people who loved her, but this ghost of her old self would always remain in her heart, an aching memory of what had been and what never could be again...... Or she thought...

Cassandra's POV

"Shit shit shit..." She muttered to herself while tears formed in her eyes, while she was walking back to her bedroom and She had tired so hard to forget about her former lover but she had to pretend...

As she went back to her room, there awaits someone.. who was the enemy of Walburga and Cassandra..

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Authors Note:

If your here, your probably a raging Queer who's in love with all the woman in Harry Potter, Thank you for reading my story...(I'll try posting everyday if I can Also thank you for supporting me, Also I hope you enjoyed this and I tried so hard to find a Walburga x Y N fix but I couldn't so I decided to make mines)