She was brilliant. Always had been.
She was one of those ladies to whom fate has been kind. She was born pretty enough to make an impression on anyone, and clever enough to know how to use this admiration to her advantage. She was a strong witch. And she was, (thankfully, for this was her biggest pride) a daughter of the house of Black, with blood as pure as can be.
She had everything a woman could wish for, indeed ; beauty, wits, a high rank amongst the pureblood society, more money she knew what to do with, a good marriage with a husband that mostly kept away from her, fortunately, and a relative freedom.
The only thing that failed her happiness was, as you can imagine, an heir.
Sirius came soon enough, of course, and with him, a whole new status in life and respect from her peers. Who would have thought that growing a little creature inside of her womb was just the thing that would make everyone around her so happy ? Another child with blood as pure as can be, in this world where wizards would so easily forget themselves and copulate with muggles and mudbloods. A son, she could feel it in her bones even before she started showing, the first son of her generation, when Cygnus failed to deliver anything but insignificant daughters, when Alphard failed to deliver at all. She was but a girl between two brothers, maybe, but she was the one to make the family proud.
What a happy, happy time.
Oh, how she hated every second of it.
The rounder her stomach swelled, the wider the smiles around her grew, the more bitter she became. The pain, in every distorted bones of a once graceful body, expanding and modifying the silhouette she was so proud of, changing her forever. The sickness. The constant headache. The short nights. The parties she missed. The weeks spent in bed. The way her husband went from not looking at her much, to not looking at all. The child spreading in her stomach, kicking and punching repeatedly as if he wanted to possess her body completely. She couldn’t wait to be free of him.
She couldn’t wait for her son to be born.
The day her son was born was the worst of her life.
The pain, the agony was like no other. I’m going to die, she thought, not able to see the end of this hardship, I’m going to die, she repeated as she was bleeding and bleeding and bleeding all of her pure blood on the pristine sheets, I’m going to die as the nurses teared him off her body, I’m going to die even when it was all over and he was feeding at her breast and she couldn’t believe it was all over, not when her whole body was still burning.
She didn’t want to see him. She was glad he was safe, of course, she had done her duty and delivered a healthy heir within a year of being married. The fact that he was so pretty, as anyone taking a peak at the crib would repeat, flattered her vanity. Let it be the talk of the country. Sirius Orion Black. The noble heir of the most ancient and noble house of Black, destined to be one of the greatest wizards of all times.
Still, she didn’t want to see him.
She had expected life would go back to normal after that. Life should be better than before, even, for she had done all that was expected of her and more. But it wasn’t like before. Sirius was everywhere.
Oh, he was a loud, big baby, who liked to make his presence known and thrived on the attention. And how did he have attention. The house was always filled with visitors, barely sparing her a word or a glance before they ran to coo at the crib. Presents, so many presents he had no use for, covering the tables, spilling from the shelves, as if it was Sirius who had done all the work of those past nine months. Pictures, soon enough, too. Moving pictures in the hall, as if it wasn’t enough that they had the real little thing brought to them everyday at tea time. As if it wasn’t enough that could hear him cry from all across the house throughout the night. Her husband who never had any time to spend at home was suddenly there, smiling at the pathetic creature in a way she had never seen him smile before.
Sirius.
Sirius.
Sirius.
He was all they all talked about. So one day, naturally, her curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to see what all the fuss was about. And so she went to the nursery, where she had never put a foot before.
Kreacher, faithful as always, was besides the baby's bed, caring for his every needs in the night, because Salazar forbids anything bad happens to the precious heir. She told him to leave, and he left.
She looked at the baby.
And she took him in his arms.
He cried. Twisting his way out of her arms with all the strength of his ridiculously frail body, he cried.
She waited.
She waited for the sudden wave of motherly love that was supposed to overwhelm her. She waited for whatever it was that Druella felt when she looked at one of her brats and her features turned softer for a second. She waited for the urge to kiss the chubby cheek like Orion often would.
She waited.
Nothing.
He kept crying.
She just wanted him to shut up.
He felt so light in her arms that she wondered how she could have let such a little thing dictate her life. He looked so frail, with that neck not even strong enough to support his stupid little head, so thin she could so easily wrap her hand around it. He wasn’t even in this world, a month ago.
It had been so hard to bring him there.
It would be so easy to take him out.
She just had to let him fall from her arms.
(maybe Kreacher knew, because he came back to the room just in time.)
She never went back to the nursery.
But Sirius was still everywhere. Sirius got under her skin. Like a pest.
From the moment he learned to walk, it was worst. He would find her, no matter where in the house she was hiding, and cling to her skirts, crying for the attention she refused to give. He would follow her like a shadow, everywhere she went, until she charmed the doors to close shut in his face. He would creep into the marital bed in the nights, shaking with the fear of a childish dream, and her husband would happily let him crawl between them, slid under the covers like the cold of winter passing through the crack of a broken window in the dark of night. She would turn her back to them, and still - she would feel him. She would feel the cold little toes pressing against her thighs, chasing her own body warmth. A tiny, moist palm against her skin, as if he had any right to touch her. He’d get sweaty, his breath heavy on her back, his arm, little and light but so heavy around her neck, clinging to her as if he expected her to carry him to the other end of the world without falling ... And that was when she realised he did. She was expected to do just that. She was a mother. She had to feed that thing and watch it grow, spend her precious money on him, spoil him rotten and do anything to keep that infuriating little smile on his face. Her son was a leech. He would suck the happiness out of her like he tried to steal her warmth for himself at night, he would grow big and strong, feeding from her own vital force until she had none left, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Still he was the family’s pride and joy, passed from a pair of arms to another, spending his time between the finest tutors. Everything was done so that he would become the finest pureblood wizard the world had ever seen. A true slytherin. A true Black.
But Walburga would look into his eyes, and everytime she did, she would see something there that no one else noticed.
Troubles.
And she could swear, here and there, what she had felt since the very day he was born : that child will be her ruin.
And then, Regulus came. If all children were a blessing from the sky, then what was Regulus ? Regulus came and for a time she forgot all about the threat that was Sirius. For the first time in her life, she thought she maybe was beginning to understand what love could be. An heir was for the family, for the world, but the spare was just for her.
Regulus was not exactly as pretty, she knew, he charmed no one the way Sirius did. He was the silent, shy kind of boy, and she resented that ; she resented that her son would never be a favourite, never be popular, never be loved the way Sirius was by anyone but her. She resented him, for he seemed to show no inclination to improve, he seemed very happy with idolizing Sirius as the rest. But as he grew older, she realised he was her way out of this life. He was her way to get rid of Sirius. Here she was, presenting two healthy sons for the world to see.
If one son was faulty, she had another.
It had been so hard to bring Sirius to the world.
It would be so easy to take him out.