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Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
"You don't understand, Lord Black," Lucius Malfoy said, his voice cold and measured. "The Dark Lord has been asking about Regulus Black. He's been calling for the boy… but the boy hasn't responded. Not to any of his summons. And the Dark Lord is losing patience. I've been instructed by the Dark Lord to find out what's going on… so I request that you cooperate with me and bring the boy out. He must answer the next summons the Dark Lord issues… otherwise..."
Lucius's words were swiftly picked up by Bellatrix, who stalked step by step to Orion's side. With a flick of her wand, she pressed it against his neck, her voice low and threatening. "Otherwise, the consequences for him won't be very pleasant… The Dark Lord's patience is as limited as his affection for his servants. And Regulus… my dear cousin, who was fortunate enough to receive the Dark Mark from Master, is disrespecting him by not answering his summons. Dear Uncle, I do hope you aren't concealing Regulus from the Master…"
Feeling the tip of Bellatrix's wand pressing into his throat, even Orion couldn't suppress a flicker of nervousness. Yet, he spoke in a strict tone, as an elder speaking to a child, "Bella… put the wand away."
But Bellatrix only ignored his words, a wicked giggle escaping her lips as she pushed the wand further into his skin. "How about you give me an answer, dear Uncle?"
Orion's face hardened, though there was a trace of sadness in his eyes. "Haven't I made myself clear? The last time I saw Regulus was three weeks ago... since then, I've neither seen nor heard from him. He didn't tell me where he was going… only that he'd be back by evening. But it's been three weeks, Bella… No news, nothing. Walburga's been beside herself with worry. Elizabeth barely eats anymore. And you, being his cousin… rather than helping us find him, you're here threatening me? Bellatrix…!"
Bellatrix studied Orion's expression and tone for a few moments, her gaze calculating. She was skeptical, unsure whether he was truly speaking the truth. But seeing his sincerity, she shrugged and muttered, "Boring…" before retracting her wand from his throat. She turned away, adding, "Fine… if you don't know, then it seems little cousin has really gone missing. Hmm… could he have joined that traitor?"
Orion scoffed at her, "You think Regulus is a traitor?"
Bellatrix shrugged nonchalantly, "Well, we can't know for sure…" She then turned to Lucius, who had been silently observing, and asked, "What do you think, Lucius? Is my cousin a blood traitor or not?"
Lucius pondered for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Hmm… he's young, yes, but I believe he understands the weight of betraying the Dark Lord. With that in mind, I'd like to think Regulus isn't the type to side with blood traitors. He never once did anything against the Dark Lord. On the contrary, he admired him—looked up to him more than most. The possibility of him turning against Master and aligning with a blood traitor seems unlikely…"
"True…" murmured Bellatrix, agreeing as she remembered the countless times Regulus had asked about becoming a Death Eater, eager to join their ranks. Thinking back on those moments, she too felt he wouldn't be the type to betray them.
"But since he isn't a traitor and isn't hiding either… this can only mean…" Bellatrix trailed off, her voice darkening as she reached the only remaining conclusion. "It must've been those cunts from the Order of the Phoenix!"
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12 Grimmould Place, London,
"Neither Bella… nor Lucius has any idea… in fact, they're searching for Regulus as well as per Dark Lord's instructions…" Orion said, shaking his head with a weary expression.
"Where could he have gone…? It's been three weeks… three whole weeks…" Walburga shouted, her desperation clear as she clutched her head, collapsing onto the sofa.
"It seems… at this point… the only possibility is…" Orion hesitated, his voice faltering as he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Not only because Walburga glared at him with fury, but also because he didn't want to admit such a possibility to himself.
But no matter how much they wanted to deny it, someone missing for three whole weeks in these chaotic times could only mean one thing…
Walburga understood this as well, and with a tremor in her voice, she fought back the tears. "Who do you think is responsible?"
"Hard to say..." Orion sighed heavily, then added, "Bella and Malfoy seem to think it might be the bastards from the Order of the Phoenix... but..."
"It seems unlikely..." Walburga finished his sentence for him, then added, "That day, Regulus went to break away from the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. I doubt his disappearance has anything to do with those wretches… It is quite likely that it is either the Dark Lord himself… or perhaps one of his Death Eaters... perhaps someone neither Bella nor Lucius Malfoy knows about…"
"Perhaps..." Orion sighed again, not wanting to accept either possibility, as both meant the same grim fate for their son. One had turned blood traitor and been disowned, while the other had gone missing—and quite likely dead.
"What are we to tell Elizabeth… she… she wouldn't be able to take it… she might just… and the child she carries..." Walburga said with a sorrowful tone, imagining the worst possible outcome.
"Then tell her what she wants to hear..." Orion replied. It was the only solution he could come up with.
"Tell her what she wants to hear?" Walburga mumbled, taken aback by the suggestion.
Orion nodded and continued, "Tell her that Regulus contacted us some time ago, and that he's caught up in something... make up something... and tell her that it would take some time, but he'd be back… He would be back before her due date… At least until she gives birth. Once that's done... well... after that, you can tell her the truth. After that, whether she lives or dies is of no consequence. It's the child that matters... since this one will be the next heir. He carries not only the blood of the Blacks... but also that of Slytherin through Sayre... such a precious gem cannot be allowed to be lost..."
Walburga gave Orien's suggestion a bit of thought before nodding, "Very well…"
…
A few days later…
"Mother… Regulus… where is he? Why hasn't he returned yet…? His letter said that he would return for this… he was on his way… but… but… he hasn't returned… could something have gone wrong…" Elizabeth asked, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Don't think about those things right now… focus on the child… push harder… push so that the head comes out…" Walburga instructed, her tone stern but full of urgency. She wiped the sweat from Elizabeth's brow, her hands trembling slightly as the intensity of the moment grew.
Elizabeth gritted her teeth, her hands clutching the bed sheets as waves of pain coursed through her body, and she tried, but… "I can't… I… where is he?" she gasped, the fear in her eyes unmistakable. "Why is he not here... when he promised?"
"Elizabeth," Walburga's voice softened, but there was no time for sentiment. "The baby is your priority now. Regulus will return when he can. You must focus on the task at hand. Push! You can do this."
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing shallow and erratic, but she obeyed, pushing with every ounce of strength she had, the pain nearly unbearable. "Regulus…" she whispered his name, as the world around her blurred and she struggled…
Dizziness and nausea gripped her, her body feeling weak, yet she summoned all her strength, despite the overwhelming fatigue. "Aaaahhhhh!"
No matter how hard she tried, Elizabeth couldn't summon the strength to push the child out. The thought of Regulus not having returned, despite his promise to be by her side, echoed in her mind like a curse...
This struggle continued for some time, as Elizabeth's condition grew worse. It became harder and harder for her to summon the strength, and it felt as though she was slowly losing all the power she had left.
Seeing Elizabeth's worsening state, one of the midwives, who had come to assist with the delivery, spoke urgently to Walburga in the corner of the room. "Lady Black... it seems the girl lacks the strength to deliver the child... and the way things are progressing, I fear that…"
Walburga shot a sharp look at the midwife. "The child will be born… no matter the cost."
The midwife panicked, hastily waving her hands. "I… I'm not saying the child won't be born, it's just that things may become… difficult…" She hesitated, unable to finish.
Walburga's scowl deepened, her voice low and cold. "Did I not make myself clear? The child will be born, no matter the cost. Do whatever is necessary, but the child will be born healthy and alive. If not, you and your lot will leave here as corpses."
The midwife's face went pale at the threat, and she quickly searched for a solution. After a moment, an idea seemed to strike her, and with a fearful look, she said, "Lady Black… there is a way… a way for the child to be born safely, but…"
"But what?" Walburga snapped, her patience clearly wearing thin.
"Well… it would mean the lady… wouldn't survive. It's quite unlikely… It would be a choice between the mother and the child…" The midwife spoke timidly, her voice barely a whisper.
Walburga stared at the midwife for a moment before shifting her gaze to the young girl, struggling on the bed, unable to push.After a tense silence, she turned back to the midwife, her expression cold as ice. "Do it... No matter what happens to the girl, make sure the child is born safely."
In her eyes, Regulus was already dead. There was no point in keeping the girl around. What they needed was the child—the heir to carry on the legacy of the House of Black, not a widow who couldn't even bring her child into the world.
Thus, even if it meant the death of the child's mother, the child must be born.
"I... I understand..." The midwife nodded fearfully, retreating to assist with the procedure. She spoke quietly to the other midwives, and though they all turned pale at the severity of the situation, none dared to defy Walburga. With a collective, fearful nod, they got to work.
The midwives, faces pale with fear, quickly gathered around Elizabeth. With trembling hands, one of them drew her wand, her voice barely above a whisper. "This... this may be the only way…" she muttered, less to the pregnant child, more to herself.
Walburga stood at the edge of the bed, her expression unwavering as the midwives moved quickly to perform the procedure. The room was filled with the rustling of robes, murmured incantations, and the soft, worried sighs of the women who were desperately trying to bring the child into the world while also thinking of her husband.
The procedure was painful and delicate, tearing through the flesh as they opened her womb.
Elizabeth, barely conscious, gave gasps and cries of pain throughout the process, her body growing weaker as she felt the life drain from her with every drop of blood lost.
With a final, decisive spell, the child was finally brought out of Elizabeth's womb.
"It's a boy," one of the midwives said, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and exhaustion.
At the same time, Walburga's expression softened with relief. "A boy… perfect… the Black line will carry on…" she then stepped forward, raising her arms, "Let me see him…"
But the joy in the room was short-lived. One of the midwives stammered, her face drained of colour. "Th-the boy… why isn't he crying…?"
A heavy silence fell. The midwife stared at the unmoving child, her voice trembling. "He's not… crying? Wh-why? Why isn't he crying?"
It was clear something was wrong. A newborn should cry. If he didn't—then that could only mean…
Walburga's relief turned to fury as a deep scowl crossed her face. She pulled out her wand, striding towards the midwives with fire in her eyes. "Did I not make myself perfectly clear? The child was to be delivered safely… and yet—"
"L-Lady Black… w-we did our—" one midwife began, but she didn't get the chance to finish.
"Crucio!"
The curse hit her full-on.
"Aaaaahhhh!" she shrieked, collapsing to the floor as pain tore through her body. Her limbs writhed, her screams echoed, and thick saliva spilled from her mouth as her nerves screamed in agony.
The remaining midwives staggered back in fright, watching in horror as their companion writhed in agony. One of them, clutching the newborn, held the baby close to her chest, arms trembling uncontrollably.
Walburga, having just cast one of the Unforgivable Curses without a second thought, turned to the others, fury still blazing in her eyes. "Did I not make myself clear?"
"W-wait, Lady Black… please… there's still something we can do! It's not over yet—there's still hope!" one of the midwives stammered, eyes wide with fear.
"What could you possibly do at this point?" Walburga snapped, her voice sharp as broken glass.
"Let us try—please!" the midwife begged. "Give me a chance—I know I can!"
Walburga eyed her with a mix of scepticism and contempt but finally gave a stiff nod. "Go on, then. If you can bring my grandson back from the brink… you'll be rewarded. If not—" she didn't bother finishing her sentence. The faint green glow pulsing from her wand said enough. The message was crystal clear.
"Y-yes!" the midwife nodded quickly and got to work. "Put the baby down—now!"
The other woman gently laid the baby on a soft cloth. The first midwife bent over him, wand at the ready, beads of sweat forming on her brow. The eerie green hue of Walburga's wand loomed over her shoulder while the others looked on, frozen with dread.
After several diagnostic spells, the midwife's face lit up with realisation. "There it is—bit of fluid in the lungs," she muttered, then flicked her wand with sharp precision.
A splutter. Then a cough.
And then—"Waaaaah!"
The baby burst into tears, loud and shrill, echoing through the tense room.
The midwives let out a collective sigh of relief.
"He's crying… finally!" one whispered, grinning with tears in her eyes. "Thank Merlin… he's alive… the boy's alive…"
With the boy finally crying, the scowl vanished from Walburga's face. She lowered her wand and stepped closer, her voice softening. "My darling boy… you nearly scared your gran half to death," she murmured, scooping him up into her arms.
Though a sense of relief swept through the room, it was far from peaceful.
One of the midwives lay slumped on the floor, unconscious and frothing at the mouth after being hit with the Cruciatus Curse. And in the midst of it all, forgotten in the chaos, was Elizabeth.
The mother who had just brought the child into the world was barely hanging on.
She gasped for air, each breath ragged and shallow. Pain etched her face as blood loss drained her strength. Her eyelids fluttered, unfocused, her hand slipping limply from the bed's edge. Her body trembled faintly, and the light in her eyes began to dim, as if life itself was slipping away.
Hearing the strained gasps, the midwives quickly turned their attention to the baby's mother. Panic set in as they scrambled to stabilise her, casting healing spells with trembling hands. At the same time, they did their best to tend to the midwife who'd collapsed earlier, still unconscious and twitching faintly on the floor.
Walburga, holding the baby tightly in her arms, barely acknowledged the midwives' frantic efforts to heal Elizabeth. The woman had fulfilled her purpose, produced the heir. That was all that mattered now.
Without a second glance at the dying Elizabeth, Walburga turned on her heel, the newborn pressed firmly in her arms as she walked out of the room, leaving the midwives to clean up the mess along with the dying girl behind.
The midwives, frozen in a mix of fear and helplessness, could only watch as Walburga exited, her cold demeanor showing no sign of the trauma left in the wake of such a decision.
Inside the room, Elizabeth's breathing grew shallow, each exhale weaker than the last. As the darkness began to close in, a faint, haunting voice echoed in her mind—Regulus's voice, soft and loving:
When you wake, I'll be here... with you.
Tears welled up in Elizabeth's eyes, but the pain of her broken heart overshadowed any physical suffering. She clung to those words as her vision blurred and the edges of her consciousness slipped away. Regulus had promised. He had promised he'd be there when she woke, and yet, no matter how many times she had opened her eyes, he was never there.
Now, she knew the truth—the lie.
Her final breath left her in the quiet of the room, her mind clouded with regret, knowing that she would never wake again.
On 7th December 1979, just about a month after the mysterious disappearance of his biological father and on the very day of his biological mother's death, Rigel Black, son of Regulus Arcturus Black, was born...
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