Cosmic Dancer
Prologue
I danced myself out of the womb
I danced myself out of the womb
Is it strange to dance so soon?
I danced myself into the tomb
But then again, once more...
3rd November 1959
Ara Hermione Black really shouldn’t have been born. Especially not here, to these people.
In fact, the first thing she did was try to explain this fact. Unfortunately for her, the words came out as newborn cries; and though her eyes were still closed, she felt the constricting energy and understood that her being born was a mistake.
Really. It should have just been Sirius. After all, he was their firstborn son. He just wasn’t their first born.
But in those early hours of morning, she had changed things irrevocably. She had fucked up. So she did what any newborn infant would do. She cried.
Now, Walburga Black had heard many infants cry in her lifetime - she had a brother with three small daughters who shared in his lung span, and had watched several of her friends have their own children before her - but she had never heard such misery from a baby. It made her wince as she was handed the bundle containing the girl. The babe’s eyes were shut tight, mouth wide as she sobbed. Merlin, that was it! It was sobbing. Not the usual whines of pain and confusion and frustration. Instead, she cried like she understood what was wrong. Members of House Black did not give birth to twins. Not ever.
And in that moment, Walburga was very glad to be handed a lovely heir to fawn over instead - offering the girl back to the Mediwitch. The woman seemed perfectly content, not realising Walburga’s disgust and instead going to tell the father the news.
Merlin!
Orion was about to find out.
It wasn’t that Walburga feared him - the man was easy to manipulate and more than happy to let her make decisions if it meant she’d leave him alone - it was that she knew how much better this whole thing would have been if she’d given birth to just the boy. Or even twin boys instead! Twin boys meant an heir and spare in one. Now, she’d have to do this whole ruddy thing again. And, she’d have to deal with Orion fawning over his newborn daughter like he did over his nieces.
It was sickening to her, how this man fell to pieces around his nieces. All pureblood etiquette gone; Orion would take one look and turn into a mush-man, letting them ride his shoulders and helping braid their hair. It wasn’t how children should be raised. A firm hand was more loving than a limp one.
But Walburga was too exhausted to deal with that now. After all, she’d just birthed the Heir to House Black. She deserved some rest.
So she let the witch take the girl away. Walburga would bond with the Heir, and Orion could deal with the extra load - and, sooner than Walburga would prefer, discover that he had two children instead of one.
He looked perfect, she thought to herself proudly as she regarded her child. The future Head of House Black. Little dark curls fluffed at the top of his head, eyes still closed and restless. He reached a hand out, trying to find something to hold onto. She offered a finger and he latched on… only to let go and let out a single shaky cry.
“Merlin, There are two of them!” She heard her husband exclaim from the doorway, distracting her thoughts.
“Yes, dear, it appears so.” She responded, not looking away from her little Heir. His eyes had opened now - revealing a soft grey - akin to that of a Malfoy. She tried to ignore the voice in her head, the one that told her he’d been tainted by sharing a womb.
“Did you know?” He was closer now, joining her at the bed to gawp at the other child.
“If I had, I would have said.” She responded tersely, brushing a hand through her Heir’s curls. He looked up at her curiously, and then let out an awful cry.
With that, the babe in Orion’s arms began to cry anew. That shocked Walburga enough to look up. She hadn’t realised that Orion had stopped the girl crying before, but now she did. As she tried to soothe her Heir, she groaned internally. Apparently both of her children seemed to hate the idea of being in her arms. With that, she offered the Heir to her husband, who shuffled to support the two children.
The second they were reunited in his arms, the two babes reached for each other and sighed out in relief - their cries ceasing.
“It appears these two seem to be bonded.” He remarked, gently rocking the infants as they settled down into sleep; their hands gripped in each other’s. Indeed, as Walburga watched them, she noted the slight glow to their skins at reconnection. It was a gentle gold sheen over their skin - something that only those trained to spot could.
A soul bond.
No, not just that. A twin soul bond.
She was fucked.