ambivalence

On November the first 1981, Walburga Black sat in an armchair, her posture ramrod straight even though she was in an arguably comfortable chair, in the main sitting room of number 12, Grimmauld place. It was just like any other day, to her right, on a small table, sat a steaming cup of a new brand of tea kreacher had brought her, no milk of course, she didn’t particularly enjoy the British idea of tea. Why someone would add milk was beyond her, as well as she liked the added benefit of tea without milk being called black tea. Around her, a multitude of furniture all empty. No matter. She had made her piece with it and the idea of dying alone although she would never lower herself as to speed along the process. The quiet was relaxing, contrary to some people’s beliefs she only liked noise when there was a cause for it.

She sipped her tea, letting the near boiling liquid flow down her throat until there was nothing but the last drops left. This one was definitely better then the last. She would have to tell kreacher to buy it again. A slight pop drew her attention to her left as the house elf appeared, carrying a tray. On it was an assortment of different cheeses and ham, along with some still warm bread, as well as the paper, the prophet no doubt. Although she knew that the prophet was just ministry propaganda, used only in spreading their agenda, it was still useful to know what the majority of wizarding Britain was thinking and, unfortunately, believing. She motioned for kreacher to put down the tray on the table as she continued to sip her tea. She raised her saucer and placed the tea cup on it, putting them both down on the tray. Now finished with her tea, she reached for the prophet.

BREAKING NEWS MURDERER SIRIUS BLACK ARRESTED FOR THE MURDER OF PETER PETTIGREW AND 12 MUGGLES

Last night, in Godrick’s Hollow, an explosion caused the deaths of 12 muggles and Peter Pettigrew. The property that had exploded was the home of Lilly and James Potter, who were found dead at the scene but not, however, from the aforementioned explosion. Their home was protected by the fidelius and as we now know, from a source that wished to remain anonymous, Sirius Black was their secret keeper. It has been said by aurors on the scene that Black had evidently betrayed the Potters to The Dark lord who came and killed Lilly and James Potter for reasons unknown but thought to be because of their large efforts in the fight against him. The Dark Lord was then vanquished by baby Harry Potter, after surviving the killing curse! The now dubbed boy-who-lived has been taken into custody and the now known serial killer, Sirius black has been thrown in Askaban for the murder on 12 muggles, Peter Petigrew and the betrayal of the Potters…

Article written by Rita Skeeta

The article continued for a few more pages, detailing everything about anyone mentioned, even saying that that blasted Pettigrew would get an order of Merlin? As she read on she got more and more furious. When she got to the end, Walburga Black shot up from her seat and started one of her famous screaming rants. “KREACHER! KREACHER! GET IN HERE!” As well as several other profanities and a string of curses that would make anyone from the Minister of Magic to a lowly sailor blush.

Kreacher appeared with an almost silent pop. “Yes mistress-” His greeting was cut short as she flung the paper towards him hitting him in the face and started screaming at him to read it. As he quickly read though it a sour expression crossed his face.

“Dirty little traitor-” kreacher began but was cut short again by a shrill shout from Walburga. “YES, YES," She took a deep breath and attempted to calm down (unlike her but the situation called for it). "The traitor, but this is not about what is there,” her voice was calmer now, closer to a hiss. “It is about what is not there.”

Her son, her firstborn, her heir, accused of betraying that useless blood traitor and that mudblood? Accused of killing 12 muggles? Accused of following that halfbreed pretender? Accused of being his right hand man? Not very likely. Not many knew, she suspected that she and that old fool Dumbledore where among - and possibly the - last to know that the Dark Lord, the one who had pure bloods everywhere flocking to him was an orphaned half-blood with a squib mother, amassing power under a pseudonym. Oh the irony. She doubted even the dark lord knew, she had always kept her distance from him in school, seeing no reason to associate with him, even after the reveal of his status as the so called heir of Slytherin, but she observed, and she learnt. Anything to make her future life easier.

Kreacher stuttered a bit at her shrill cry but closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes in consideration, he was well used to it by now after his years of service to the family. Walburga started pacing about the room, more in circles then across, the many items of furniture scattered across the room made effective pacing difficult, and after a few moments, Kreacher let out a small gasp and she stopped pacing.

“Do you truly believe that useless traitor, one who wouldn’t shut up if anyone even mentioned the word mudblood, betrayed his closest friends - bloodtraitor and a mudbloodand - killed 12 muggles? And that blasted Pettigrew?” She hissed, her words slow and deliberate, that explosive fury that she was so known for slowly mellowing out into a cold rage. 

She sat back down onto her armchair, the breakfast now long forgotten, the fire that had been crackling in the fireplace had also dimmed, as she thought. She wasn't as mad about her son's charge (the very idea) but this was an affront on the most ancient and noble house of Black, an insult to their entire family, however, there was the issue of what seemed like the whole country against him. She would need to be careful. The Blacks were royalty, not in the boastful way some used to get a leg up over those too scared to challenge them, however effective that method was, but in the literal way. They were royalty in every way other than name. The wizarding world knew it well, or at least the noble houses did. Their renown had since diminished in recent decades mostly due to the inbreeding, started to keep their blood pure, and madness that plagued their house as a result (she had been adamant with Orion that her sons were to be married outside the house, other blacks may not have especially cared however she knew well enough of the thing muggles called genetics and- having decided that a rudimentary knowledge of the muggle world was for the best if she’d want to fit in if there, however frowned upon it was) - knew that mixing with relatives any closer than about 3rd or 4th degree was, ill advised, to say the least.

The problem of her son could be split into two parts; the ministry and the public. There was also the problem of that traitorous idiot Dumbledore, but she didn’t know where he stood on the subject of her son’s incarceration so he was a factor yet to be determined. The ministry would be the main issue. A place so riddled with corruption and rich men using their not insubstantial wealth to get their way within it’s walls - and sometimes without - that it would be difficult to push any sort of agenda without mass public outcry. She would know of such methods, having made use of them before, a certain incident involving her brother and several other houses, that never occurred as far as most knew, came to mind. The other issue would be the public. With such a divided nation, most now against Voldermort (she would never even consider calling him something as plebeian as you-know-you) or claiming imperious to escape charges, exonerating one said to be his right hand man would be a difficult endeavour. She would have to send a few owls.

An hour later, she sat at the desk of the Lord of the house of Black, with several drafts of letters around her. The letter was addressed to one of their lawyers. They had several on standby, for all the main reasons they might or mightn’t need one; wills, business, property and most importantly, defense and prosecution. Aurelius Burke, from one of the sacred 28, was their defense attorney of choice, being from a cadet, and possibly bastard half-blood if the rumors were true, line he was not fit for marriage or anything of the sort with her house but as a lawyer, he was one of the top choices, and one of the most ruthless and methodical ones known to her. The letter, once completed, instructed Burke to come to number 12 Grimmuald place as soon as the opportunity arrived and to tell no one he was coming. Handling this quietly before the trial was critical as it would prevent the aurors from gathering further evidence against him and increasing their chances of procuring enough evidence to prove his innocence. Walburga sealed the letter, a simple wax seal, with no crest and gave it to kreacher to send off. She had deliberated on whether to send it with the black family crest (she was unable to use the Lord’s ring as it was enchanted to remove the hand of any who put it on who were not the Lord, even the heir themselves, after an unfortunate incident a century or two back that also had resulted in the requirements of an heir being slightly laxed so that a woman may inherit the lordship, like Orion’s grandmother.) but had ultimately decided that discretion was key. She had even had kreacher use one of their less used owls, just in case.

Kreacher silently popped back into the room to inform her that the letter was sent, and with a snap of his fingers removed all the now useless drafts from the desk. She nodded, once, and swept back downstairs and settled back into her chair to wait. She had no doubt that Burke would arrive at some point soon. They were simply too important a family for him not to.