Voltaic Falling

49

It has been a month and a few weeks now. She had returned from Sirius's grave from dropping fresh flowers. He decided he was to be buried just beside his best friend, James Potter. In his last will, he had stated the following. It was if the words were burned inside of her. 

"For my dearest niece, Beatrice Black, daughter of Regulus Black and Aurora Black, I leave the adjacent locale Number 97 in Diagon Alley in hopes she tells Reggie's story. Furthermore, half of my Gringott vault is going to her and Mr. Harry Potter, the keys are attached to this will. Lastly, I leave 12th Grimmauld place to both Harry Potter and Beatrice Black in confidence that they would remember our Black heritage. For Beatrice, I leave this ancient relic that once belonged to her father so that she remembers that even the smallest heroes are sung upon". 

That night, Bill had to cradle her to sleep. Sobs had racked her body. She still was in pain for his untimely death, but she knew better than to wallow in pity. Sirius had done this for her. He had given her a  new chance to live, even if it meant for him to die. 

After a few weeks, she had opened the shop, Draco being her first employee. The young platinum blonde was ecstatic to learn from her. She could remember how they would order ingredients all day, then go about in a rant of healing concoctions, and eventually falling asleep in the couches. She would wake up with a quilt upon her shoulders and a drooling Draco right beside her. She had agreed for him to take half of the apartment that was just upstairs from the shop. They had agreed that Draco would pay half the pension and would still be paid at full salary. 

She was happy to have Draco. Both cousins had bonded over their love for potions and eventually learned to be friends. Draco was happy, despite his father's discontent for working in a lowly shop. He had enough money and wanted to live amongst the people who forgave him for his allegiance. He turned to his most trusted cousin. 

"So, you are saying that three crushed moths makes a wound heal? That is some arse answer, Tris", Draco snorted. 

"No, you blithering idiot. You don't crush them. You add murtlap essence to them, then crush it", she sarcastically replied. 

"All hail the greatest potioneer to exist, who would've thought she's a goner for some Earl grey with a hint of honey and spice", he joked. 

"oh, shut it, at least I like my tea strong, just like my men", she retired. 

"You mean me? Oh, I know, Trissie, no need for the compliment", he laughed. 

They looked at each other in playful glares and resorted to nudging each others elbows at their ribs. 

Narcissa was also close to Beatrice. After the dinner at Malfoy Manor, the mother of one had offered her everything she had, even solace and reconciliation. Beatrice had accepted the offer and visited her at least twice a week. Sirius would have wanted that. 

Soon, Narcissa became the mother that Beatrice didn't grow to have. Molly had provided warmth and love, but Narcissa had given her advice and a connection to her deceased father that no one could give except her. Both women had cried over Sirius, and often visit his grave together, finding solace and companionship. 

It was an odd sight. All the Weasley's refrained from being involved, but Bill had taken the burden with no problem. Even Lucius Malfoy had stated that Bill and her were the only Weasley's with a shrew of respect. Eventually, the oldest Malfoy was wooed by Bill's charming nature and his knowledge of cursed artifices. 

To think that now, the two small families gathered for lunch was a weird happening, but they weren't opposed to it. Bill was happy that Beatrice was content.