If you think browbeating your children into being good little purebloods is what it takes,then you have failed to understand what it means to be a Black.
We are transgressive by nature, us Blacks. Others may make rules, but we live by no rules but our own - have you not heard, have you not known? Foolish woman.
Consider this your reward for your folly. One son, a whimpering ball, ready to come and go at the slightest move of your finger - aye, you have him well-trained. But he was no Black. Blacks do not bow their knees to other men, certainly not half-breeds. Or have you forgotten your proud ancestry? Poor lad, I could have made much of him. One treats that sort of boy gently, one wins their trust and knowing them in and out, one knows how to better lead them in the straight and narrow. Alas, he is dead and so goes the last of our line; a snivelling piece of work with far too many secrets for his own good.
Ah but the other one could have truly revived our fortunes. He had gumption. An enterprising mind. Precisely the sort of son our ancestors would be delighted to have. But you, my dear, you pushed him away by beating him when you ought to have mollycoddled him. Do you not understand the minds of children? They must be led, not pushed and pummelled into shape. He could have been great, had you known howto raise him to choose for himself, when the time came, the ways of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Instead he turned blood-traitor and now he is in Azkaban and therefore, will amount to nothing. A worthless young fellow and you are entirely to blame.
Excellent. I’m sure you are quitedelighted with your handiwork. You have, after all, singlehandedly wrought the downfall of our family. I must commend you for having managed in but twenty years what others have failed to accomplish in centuries, yea millennia. They will all laud and fete you beyond the veil and demand to know how you did it.
Ah, but you want advice, is it? Ah. Charming. Should I part with my words of wisdom or shall I keep them to myself knowing that you will simply fail to understand what it is I am saying?
Had I been in your place I would have given my children something to be proud of. A name to bear with pride, to raise one’s head high. Not a bloated, pompous ideal that even a five year old could see through. Oh the dark magic isn’t the only thing that characterizes us, Walburga dear. We’re not like the others; pompous old windbags with no good to their names. I would have taught your eldest - er, Sirius, wasn’t it? Quite, quite - about the goodwe had done. Charities and fundraisers, forward thinking progressives who believed women could rule families just as much as men could - no, no, no, you mustn’t interrupt, you know as well as I that the sons and daughters of Morgana, Morgause, Elaine and Arthur could hardly believe that a woman should allow her husband to place his foot upon her neck ‘an he choose to do so. I would have told him how we were the ones who first reformed the Ministry classifications system and made them create a new class of people called beings. One has to reason with stubborn children, to show them that you are not yourself a stubborn child - you are an adult and possessed of an infinitely great fount of wisdom. It is the only way to treat with stubborn young Gryffindors, not to berate them and beat them and hope that they will see the wisdom of your path. No, you must lead them to choose your way, only then will they be all the more loyal to it.
Ah and the other one. I would have drawn him out of his shell and made him talk. Silent obedience is, as you would know if you had listened to the wisdom of your fathers, inevitably a sign of the silent rebellion that surfaces at the most inopportune moments.
What’s that? Oh, I was unpopular was I? How surprising. Those damn fool witches and wizards and their wishy washy dreams of an all inclusive society didn't like having their children labelled idiots and shipped off to the Centaur Liasion Office. Merely doing my duty by my country, for shame, is a man to be punished for doing his duty? Heaven help us all, this is the end of England as we know it and it’s all yourfault.
Of course, it is easy to be wise in retrospect and chide me for not foreseeing how little their parents or indeed they would love me for my foresight, just as it is easy for me to tell you how you have failed your sons. Merlin, what do they teach you in school nowadays? What do you mean but Phineas? I know no Phineas save myself - no there is no Phineas, cease your prating woman! No doubt it was your wagging tongue which sent Orion early to his grave - no for the last time no there is no Phineas but I! Phineas Nigellus Black, the first of his name and head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!
I am tired. My head aches and I am fatigued to the bone. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black will crumble and fade away and be as but dust in the wind.
Today I met my grandmother your mother. Uncle Reggie was there with me. He he held my hand protectively as we - her and me, I mean - stared at each other in recognition and contempt. Her icy glare made me feel so incredibly small. I could only think about the stories I’ve heard behind closed doors, of the pain I always knew was hidden behind those gray eyes of yours. As we walked through that somber house you both escaped, uncle R told me everything. Not that he actually needed to; her disapproving gaze told me of every scar and every heartache you had to endure.
I’ve been crying for hours now. I know you’re worried, you and daddy and uncle Reggie are. You’ve been knocking at my door all afternoon. You sound desperate, ashamed almost. You fought uncle, blamed him for making me sad, for opening “unnecessary scars”.
Daddy has spent two hours, twenty five minutes and twelve, thirteen, fourteen seconds trying to bribe me with chocolate. But, as perturbed as he might be, I know he gets it. He knows I understand you better now. He knows I’m crying because I love you so much, because I can’t imagine a time in which you were both so very miserable and yet it’s the only thing in my mind. He knows because he probably went through it as well.
I know he knows, because my heart feels as broken as that time he allowed me to touch the scar on his forehead and I promised him I’d always have chocolate at hand. I thought foolishly back then that the extent of our family pain could be summarized by the word lycanthropy.
Today I know better. I understand now that I am surrounded by people who have been deeply hurt. Instead of purposely hurting others, you’ve decided to smile at the world, to give back love, to find your own happiness. You’ve protected me and loved me instead. And, as I finish putting my thoughts and feeling in a semblance of order, I realize how lucky I am to have you, Paw. I am lucky to be surrounded by you and daddy and uncle Reggie and Andy. And I hope you’re okay.
Well, I hope you know how proud I am you were created
‘You didn’t wear gloves,’ he declared with a wry smile while continuing to hold her hand near his lips.
‘I could not find a pair that matched my gown,’ she paused, her dark eyes dancing as they stared up at him, ‘and heaven forbid that my sartorial choices offend you.’
Walburga Black had made an art of mourning. She made a striking figure during her daily stroll, dark robes billowing around her, her face shielded by a black veil. There had been a time in her youth when she’d been seen in her house’s trademark green, but the house of Black was one of many storied traditions. For every family member struck from the tree, each disappointing relation eliminated from her life, Walburga donned her mourning attire. She seemed to relish it almost as much as she enjoyed the physical act of blasting a name off the family tapestry, acting out the symbolic deaths of those who had crossed her.
By the end of her life, her husband dead, her son dead, her other son dishonored and imprisoned, alone in her big house apart from her loyal house elf, her mourning clothes were well-worn. And some thought that, perhaps, had she known what was to come, she would not have worn them so cavalierly in the past.
