Chapter 1
The white truck lost control. She felt her heart drop. It was too fast. She would not make it out of the way fast enough. The impact was sudden, so quick that the pain hardly registered. The disorientation hit her and then all she saw was darkness.
She woke up to the sound of crying. Her head was pounding and her vision was blurry. She stared up at an immaculate set of winding stairs and chandeliers, watching in confusion as two small children came running. Small faces coming into her view, standing over her, staring at her helplessly with wide eyes.
“Mother! Mother! Are you okay?”
Mother?
“Who are you?” She whispered, sitting up with a wince, eyeing the two little ones who stared at her with tear tracks down their pale faces.
They were dainty little children. Incredibly beautiful, with thick heads full of curly hair and large grey eyes. They were dressed smartly, cheeks blotchy and face messy with tears. The eldest stood close but not touching her, appearing afraid of her (?). The youngest had no such reservations and he clung to her skirt, weeping into the fabric, small cries turning into wails.
She stared at the unfamiliar children, eyes widening as she saw the old house elf standing beside them. She recognized him. She felt her heart sink. This was a very surreal dream. She felt her eyes roll back and she slumped on the floor as the cries faded into the distance.
She was sure she was dreaming. She would wake up in the hospital, bandaged beyond recognition but alive and most certainly not reliving her life as the mistress of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.
The woman’s thick lashes fluttered slowly. She opened her eyes and stared up at the white ceiling. There was a commotion outside the door. The door swung open and she sat up, staring at the man who stood in the entryway. He was tall and broad, with thick curly hair and aristocratic features. Another man followed behind him, seeming nervous and jittery.
He stepped towards her and she eyed him warily.
“Mistress Black, I am Healer Fawley. I shall run a diagnosis.”
She held still, letting the words wash over her. She counted backwards, keeping her face blank as he ran his medical analysis, waving his wand over her. She felt like she was having an out of body experience, responding with clipped words to his inquiries. The man at the door remained still, watching her intently.
“It seems you are disoriented wife.” He commented dryly, voice like the Sahara desert.
She leaned over, coughing heavily. WIFE?! Her mind raced as the healer fussed over her. Wife, wife, wife. This man had to be Orion Black, father of Sirius and Regulus Black. Lord of House Black. She felt her nausea increase. Why wasn’t she waking up? The healer passed her a glass bottle and she drank the potion hurriedly. She felt the pain in her head alleviate. The healer rattled more instructions, leaving a set of bottles on her dresser. He bowed and excused himself hurriedly.
Her husband (?) stood at the door. “This incident will not go unpunished.”
She - Walburga - stared at him. What in the world was he talking about? She had assumed she fell down the stairs.
“Sirius will go without dinner tonight.” He spoke.
What? No. Stop.
He turned on his heel and left her reeling.
She released a breath. His presence was stifling. She fell back against the soft sheets. Her eyes watered in heightened emotions. What was happening? Why wasn’t this dream ending? She raised her hand, staring up at the dainty pale fingers. It looked unfamiliar. This was not her body. Her tears fell down her cheeks. She wanted to go home, to the comfort of her bachelor apartment, to her warm sofa, to her beloved cat Mika.
She stood up shakily and made her way to the mirror, gazing at her reflection in shock.
“Lord.” She breathed in shock.
Walburga Black was a beautiful woman. She had long flowy hair that curled down to her back. She had full red lips and high cheekbones. Her eyes were adorned with thick lashes and they stared at her with a deep grey. She was a slender tall woman. She knelt down, resting a hand against the glass.
“Walburga Black.” She whispered. “Where did you go?”
No answer.
She despaired.
I am not meant to be here. I am not meant to be you. Please come back. I want to go home.
She fell down to her knees and wept deeply at the silence.
She spent the next few days in bed, alternating between sleeping and crying. Nothing changed. She woke up everyday stuck in the body of a pureblood woman from a fictional universe. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and stared up at the white ceiling. Her husband did not visit her once after bringing the healer. She smiled sardonically, feeling an odd sense of pity for the owner of the body.
Walburga Black suffered a cold distant marriage.
“What an unhappy life.” She whispered.
She inhaled deeply. No . This was not like her. She was not one to sit in bed and give up. Orion Black might be lost to her in a cold marriage but the children were still there. She sat up, grabbing the journal Kreacher left on her bed. It was the previous body owner’s journal. The real Walburga Black. She felt awful reading it but she wanted to understand her position better.
She took a deep breath and began reading. Twenty minutes later, she slammed it shut, turning on her side and hurling. What the hell is wrong with this woman? She seethed angrily. Walburga was downright an abusive woman towards both her husband and her children. Her cold marriage was of her own doing. Orion was no saint and there was no warmth in the man but he treated her with cordial respect and she paid that respect with scorn and hateful remarks.
She treated her children with violence, cruel consequences that extend beyond corporal punishments. Who uses curses on little children? She stood out of bed and began pacing, her mind racing in thought. She opened the journal to a new page and began taking notes.
Leave Orion Black alone. Do not engage. Avoid.
Save Sirius and Regulus.
Be a good mother.
She nodded to herself. She solidified her resolve. It was time to find the children.
Grimmauld Place was a very large place with a dark and gothic style interior. It reminded her of a horror film, like the inside of Count Dracula’s manor with paintings of unsmiling relatives, never-ending halls and a series of closed doors. It was immaculate and clean but it lacked a warm touch. It was clinical almost, dreary and inhospitable. She sighed, mentally adding decor change to her long-list of never-ending things to do.
She walked through the halls, exploring, listening to the sounds. A pop and the house elf materialized, bowing very deeply.
“Is Mistress be needing something? Kreacher will aid mistress with what she needs.”
She stared at the creature. “Yes, where are the children?”
“In the study.”
“Lead the way Kreacher. I am too tired to… go on my own.” She explained.
She was so lost. Kreacher nodded, lips stretching into a pleased smile. The house elf led her down a long hall. She paid close attention to the route, mapping it in her brain. She heard the sound of conversation from the study hall. Kreacher stood at the door, waiting like the perfect elf. She nodded at him and pushed the door open. Her eyes briefly scanned the large room, eyes landing on the two small boys sitting at individual desks.
They both whipped their heads upwards and stared at him, twin expressions of shock.
“Mother?”
She stared at them, cataloging their features. Why were they so small? Something wasn’t right. She racked her brain, eyeing the two small children. She watched as the elder grew paler, shifting nervously in his seat. Sirius. Sirius Orion Black.
She turned her gaze to him. “How old are you Sirius?”
Sirius stared at her with wide eyes. He wrung his hands nervously. “Six mother.”
She turned her gaze expectantly to the youngest child. He stared at her with wide confused eyes. Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black. She knew the brothers were two years apart. Regulus was four years old. She stared at the quill in his hand. A thick tome was open in front of the tiny boy and he had a sheet of parchment filled half-way with beautiful handwriting. He shifted anxiously, breath picking up rapidly. His eyes began to water, tears filling them up.
She stared at him in shock.
“Mother!” Sirius exclaimed. “I’m sorry! It’s my fault! I was distracting Reggie! Please don’t punish him!”
Regulus hiccuped, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. “I’m s-sorry, I didn’t f-finish everything. I’ll w-write f-faster.”
She felt the floor slip beneath her and she rested a hand against the table, standing with sheer will. She swallowed thickly, watching as Regulus began crying quiet tears. His brother bracketed him in his arms, staring at her with a scared expression. What have you done to these children? She felt like crying herself, looking at the tragic scene before her. It was gut-wrenching. No child should ever feel unsafe, especially around their own parents.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I just came… to greet you both.”
The boys stared at her in confusion. Sirius held his brother tighter. She sighed, pressing a hand to her temple.
“My fall and time in bed… has led me to many speculations. I am not well, children. Falling made me realize I could've died at any given moment and I realized in my near death experience that I had been a bad mother. A terrible mother to you both. I cannot ask for forgiveness but I can make amends.”
The boys stared at her in disbelief. She walked closer, moving past the desk and she knelt down beside them, staring up at them with an open expression.
“Will you give me a chance to be better to you both?” She whispered, smiling softly.
Sirius stared at her in shock. His lips quivered.
“Do you… do you mean that?” His eyes brimmed with tears but he looked terribly hopeful.
She nodded. The boy’s tears fell down his pale cheeks and he reached forward hesitantly, unsure. He dropped his arms abruptly, expression anxious and unsure. The woman smiled softly.
“Can I give you both a hug?”
Regulus did not hesitate. He threw his body from the chair and jumped into her arms, sobbing. He was a four year old. A tiny precious little toddler who was crying at the chance to receive a hug from his mother. She felt her eyes water at the thought. She looked up at Sirius who watched them with a nervous expression. She lifted an arm, smiling at him encouragingly. He hesitated a moment longer before he stepped into her arms unsurely. She held them both securely in her hold, running her hands softly against their curly hair. She felt her gown get soaked with their tears and she continued to soothe their hurt.
She had a long way to go but she would not let go or fail these children.
It was her vow.
Walburga stood at the train station, eyeing her anxious eldest son with a fond smile. Regulus stood next to her, hands holding onto her arm as he grinned impishly at his older brother.
“Mother, what if… honestly… what if I’m not in Slytherin?”
The woman pressed a delicate hand against her mouth and laughed softly. “Oh darling, you most certainly will not be in Slytherin. You have not a single quality of the house.”
Sirius squawked in offence, staring at her in betrayal as Regulus giggled. She tapped a finger against her chin, ignoring the commotion of other children and parents.
“I think I see a lion in you, dearest.”
Sirius frowned. “That… that won’t make you hate me?”
Walburga smiled softly. She leaned forward and tucked a stray curl behind his ears gently. “Nothing in this world will ever make me hate my own babies.”
Sirius turned red. “Motherrrrrrrrr! I’m not a baby!”
“Oh hush! You and your brother will always be my babies.”
The boys grumbled, exchanging smiles. The train let out a loud noise, smoke puffing upwards. The eleven year old turned to his mother, expression growing sad. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. She hugged him back. His little brother joined the family hug and they all held on for a long moment.
“I’ll write everyday.” Sirius promised, voice cracking.
His mother laughed. “Perhaps once a week. We’ll see you in December sweetheart. Now go have fun, make friends and remember what I told you.”
“Yes, to not pick on others who are less fortunate than me. I heard this lesson many times, mother.”
"I love you and I am very proud of you Sirius."
The boy beamed.
"Love you too mum! Love you Reggie!"
The child turned on his heel, trunk in his hand and moved eagerly towards the train. He climbed on, pausing to help a pale first year with his battered old luggage. Walburga blinked in shock, watching as her son spoke animatedly to the small boy with greasy hair. Isn’t that…
She shook her head, smiling softly to herself. Her little boy looked very happy. She pressed a hand to Regulus' head and ruffled his hair gently as the boy leaned into her side with a smile. The pair watched as the two boys climbed onto the train. Seconds later, Sirius opened his window, waving to them with a bright smile.
“Bye mother! Bye Reggie! I will take Hogwarts by storm!” He promised, his smile impish and grey eyes bright.
Seven years later:
Walpurga stared at the Prophet release. She tapped her hands on the table, eyes falling to her two children who bickered over the last Quidditch match of the year. Sirius had graduated and debated taking a year to travel. He had shocked the entirety of Wizarding Britain with his sorting - a Black in Hufflepuff. His brother perpetuated the shock by being sorted into Ravenclaw.
The woman frowned at the news, not liking it one bit. She gazed at her husband. The man had thawed over the years but kept his distance, unsure what to make of her character development.
“Family.” She spoke softly.
The boys quieted down, staring at her curiously.
“Husband.”
Orion lowered his newspaper.
“We’re moving.” She declared, expression serene.
Her family stared at her.
“What?”
“Mother, but my studies-”
“Wife.”
She clapped her hands. “Kreacher. Pack everything. We are leaving for a very long time.”
She ignored the protests, smiling as she eyed all three members. They all sighed, one after another, knowing they could not win against her. Orion leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful as his eyes landed on the latest Prophet release. It showcased an attack. The Dark Lord was on the rise. They had remained neutral, not partaking in any of his campaigns. House Black was too powerful to be cowed or threatened but safety was tantamount. The man’s eyes fell to the children - one seventeen and the younger fifteen. He stared at his wife in understanding and nodded.
“Perhaps, somewhere warm.” He spoke.
Walburga smiled.
The waves crashed gently, moving slowly onto the sand. The woman stood at the edge of the shore, smiling as she heard the screech of laughter as the brothers wrestled in the shallow waters. She turned back, eyes falling on the man reading a book in the shade. The house elf sat on a rock, keeping a careful eye on the two teenagers.
Walburga pressed a hand to her lips and laughed lightly. The sun sank in the horizon as the family spent a peaceful evening on the sand. It was a quiet serene day that was repeated for many many years.