#the house of black

[cissy-n0ble-blck]

@jackfrostlookalike…Draco was actually wanting to see you again…want to um, meet up?

[liv45no]

Sirius, brushing his hair: ...98, 99, 100!

Regulus: you missed eleven numbers.

Sirius: I don’t need to be good at math. I have BEAUTIFUL hair.

Regulus: that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.

[stareggie]

reg, ur sirius is showing…

[lilyflowerpot]

is the marauders fandom still kicking?

[vomits0cutely]

Sirius: you’ve always been jealous of me!

Regulus: jealous of what? Of your lack of responsibility? Your immaturity? Your total disregard for other people's feelings?

Regulus: your lack of any critical thinking? Your ignorance? Your unawareness to anyone but yourself?

[siriusblack-the-third]

Lets talk about Walburga

Specifically, lets talk about her thoughts on blood purity, her sons, the Blood War, and Voldemort.

A few canon points to keep in mind before we go forward with this little thing:

Walburga is a year older than Tom Riddle

The only Black sister in school when Sirius attended Hogwarts was Narcissa, who is four years older than him.

Nymphadora Tonks is 13 or 14 years younger than Sirius. We're not given her exact date of birth but she was born in 1973 while Sirius was born on 3rd November, 1959.

(everything underneath is a mix of canon and headcanon)

Walburga was a member of the House of Black, a House that was akin to magical Royalty, almost. Their magical lineage could be traced back several centuries, and their money was older still. She was born into wealth, and she married into wealth.

Blood purity, for her, was absolute. You were either a pureblood, or you were not. It did not matter to her if all your grandparents or great grandparents had magic; if you had non-magical ancestors, you were not pureblood. The Blacks were as pure of blood as it could get. She would live with the fact that they had to rub elbows with people of blood that was not pure, of course, because that was how the world worked, and she knew nothing could be done about it. It something existed, then it was most probably meant to exist, she thought, and that was it for her. She thought those of "dirty" blood to be beneath her, but she did not begrudge them their existence. Let them live their pathetic lives, she thought, and I will live my life.

She was for the most part, a live and let live sort of person.

That is, until the appearance of the new upstart fancying himself as the new Dark Lord, who promised to make the magical world pure and unsullied by muggle influence once again. He promised supremacy to those of ancient heritage, promised them wealth and riches and importance.

Walburga was not an idiot. Far from it. She was a Black, in everything that she did. Blacks had wealth, and riches, and importance. Besides, she recognised an old school mate no matter how many changes their face had gone through, and when she saw his face for the first time, she only thought one thing: dirty blood.

Thomas Marvolo bloody Riddle.

She knew him, of course. He had been two years her junior in Hogwarts— scrawny eleven year old Tom who surprised everyone when he sorted Slytherin, because nobody knew his ancestry and he definitely did not look like a pureblood. Back then, Walburga had been sure to mention in earshot of a few gossipy housemates that even the Weasleys did not look pure of blood, and yet they had one of the cleanest pedigrees of Britain.

That had protected Thomas for a while— exactly long enough for Walburga to do a little digging, and she had scoffed at what had been found.

Slytherin. Thomas was a direct descendant of Slytherin.

That did not mean much, sadly.

His mother had been a squib, his uncle a murderer, and his father a filthy muggle. Thomas was from an old family, yes, but he was not pureblood.

And so, when Thomas Riddle came knocking in 1971, calling himself Voldemort, asking her to join his foolish cause of exterminating mudbloods, demanding that she bow down to him... she laughed in his face.

She bowed to no one. She was Walburga Black, wife of Orion Black, of the purest line in all of Europe. How dare this upstart demand anything of her, let alone demand that she bow to him? Ridiculous. She laughed in his face, and told him to take his illogical, irrational war somewhere else.

"You, Thomas? You will wage a war on Mudbloods?" She asked him, a small smile curving over her dark red lips and amusement dripping from every pronounced syllable, and Voldemort bristled with rage. "Will it end with you committing suicide, then, seeing as your blood is as dirty as it can possibly get?"

That night ended in a legendary duel— Voldemort escaped Grimmauld Place with several injuries and the threat of annihilation if he ever set foot in Walburga's house again.

And then Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor.

It was a shock to her heart— her boy, her firstborn, the scion of the House of Black. He was fraternizing with mudbloods and inferior beings, and Walburga did not like it one bit. At least that Potter boy was a fine choice for a friend; his parents were pure of blood and upheld traditions, coming from the Peverell line. A fine choice, if not the first that Walburga would have made.

And then he started toeing the line. Sirius lashed out, yelled at her, ignored her, scowled at her and Orion. And yet, she loved him. She also hated him. He was so much like her and Orion— headstrong, stubborn, brilliant, arrogant, intelligent. Powerful, as a Black should be. He was the perfect Black. The perfect heir.

What a shame, thta he did not listen to her, that he did not take her advice. No matter, she would ensure his obedience.

As for Regulus, well... He was enamoured with this Lord Voldemort.

Walburga did not approve. She did not approve at all. The man was insane, he did not have pure blood, and he certainly was idiotic if he though the world would be a utopia if the lesser people did not exist. Extermination was a foolish quest, even stupider when undertaken by someone of such inferior blood, and she loathed that Regulus would willingly bow to anyone.

Regulus was her son. A son of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. How dare he bow to someone? How dare he forsake his family name in favour of kneeling at someone's feet and kissing the hem of some mudblood monster's robes? How dare he disgrace the name of the House of Black so, submitting to inferior beings?

Walburga did not care that Bellatrix had done the same. Bellatrix was married. She was a member of the Lestrange family now, she could do whatever the bloody hell she wanted. She disapproved of Bella's choice, of course. She disapproved greatly. This.. this Death Eater business was as foul as that idiot Andromeda running off with that mudblood and bearing his child. Narcissa, despite her good sense to not bow to Voldemort, was still hopelessly in love with that peacock Lucius who was most definitely a Death Eater. Walburga disapproved. And yet, she was not either of their's mother, and she did not give a hippogriff's tit what any of those silly girls did.

Regulus, however, was a son of the main line. He should not be dreaming of bowing to anyone. Weak, foolish child, fantasising about kissing the hem of the robes of Thomas bloody Riddle. How dare he dishonour the dignity of the House of Black? How dare he insult their Noble name? Foolish, idiot, weak child.

She was sure the Mudblood upstart was laughing at her, wherever he was. He took her child.

And then Sirius ran away.

She did not like admitting that it was her fault, in part. She knew better than anyone how difficult it was to change a Black's mind once an opinion had been solidified. She was a Black, she knew how stubborn they could be. And yet, she pushed and pushed and pushed, and Sirius snapped. She should have taken a more delicate approach. But she had been foolish, and then she dealt with the consequences by blasting her darling son's name off the Tree, screams falling from her lips and tears from her eyes.

Regulus took the Dark Mark.

Walburga stopped speaking with him.

She did not speak to him until his death, which she was informed about by Kreacher. Kreacher, who was forbidden from giving her, or anyone else, the full details.

Two months later, Death came to collect Orion as well.

It was not long after that Walburga succumbed to madness. There was only so much loss one could take, and she had taken more than anyone. Her sons, her husband, everything... gone.

Was it any surprise, that she went mad in the last years of her life?

.

Tags (I hope you don't mind): @plecotusauritus @in-flvx @strwbi-laces @roalinda @mycupofrum

[tatiablack]

I just got my first Kudos on Ao3 and I know this might sound ridiculous but it made me so happy 😭 writing fanfic has always been something I wanted to try but I was afraid that I’m not good enough. Thank you to everyone who liked my fic so far, I’m happy in the Marauders fandom and I’d love to make more friends if yall have a space for me ❤️🫶🏻

[raekensluver]

beyond the horcrux

description: regulus black's death wasn't the happy ending you had asked for together.

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

contains: angst, regulus' death, talks of the first wizarding war.

song rec: youth by: daughter- "shadows settle on the place that you left, our minds are troubled by the emptiness"

w.c: 1.4k

an: i'm sorry. i can't seem to stop writing angsty fics...

the room was filled with a suffocating silence, the kind that follows a storm. the curtains danced a solemn waltz in the early morning breeze, their shadows playing across the bare floorboards like ghosts of forgotten memories. the sun had not yet fully risen, but the faint light seeping through the windows painted the room in a cold, pale glow.

your eyes fluttered open, the heaviness of sleep clinging to your lashes like a veil. for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe it was just another ordinary morning. but the emptiness beside you was a stark reminder of the nightmare that had become your reality. the bed, once a sanctuary of warmth and love was now a cold, unyielding witness to your grief. regulus' side remained untouched, the sheets still held the faint scent of him, but the warmth had long dissipated.

with a deep, shuddering breath, you sat up, pushing the covers away. your eyes fell upon his rings on the bedside table, their gleaming surfaces mocking the emptiness of the room. they were a symbol of a promise now shattered, a future lost to the darkness. the weight of his absence pressed down on you, a physical ache that no charm or potion could ever soothe.

you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coldness of the floorboards beneath your bare feet. each step you took towards the window was a silent battle against the tears that threatened to spill. as you reached the sill, you pushed the curtains aside and gazed out into the dawning world. the sun was peeking over the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold, a stark contrast to the bleakness that filled your heart.

the house was eerily quiet without regulus' comforting murmurs and the patter of his footsteps. it was a stark reminder of the life you had planned together, a life that was now as elusive as a wisp of smoke in the wind. you felt a pang of anger mingle with your sorrow. how could he have been so reckless? so stubborn? but you knew it was his fierce loyalty that had driven him to make that fateful choice.

you padded into the bathroom, the coldness of the tiles sending a shiver down your spine. the reflection in the mirror was a hollow-eyed stranger, a mere shadow of the woman you once were. you reached for the faucet and the water that filled the sink washed away the last remnants of sleep. as you splashed the cold liquid onto your face, you tried to gather the strength to face the day ahead.

the house felt like a tomb, each room a testament to the love you had shared. you wandered through the hallways, tracing your fingers over the photographs that lined the walls, pausing at the one of you and regulus, smiling at the camera. the joy in his eyes was palpable, and you wished with all your might that you could turn back time to that moment, to whisper in his ear and change his fate.

in the kitchen, you found the note he had left you, the ink smudged from your own tears. It was a simple message, yet it held the weight of his sacrifice. "i had to go," it read. "for you, for us, for everyone. i'll come back to you, i promise." but the empty chair at the table was a grim rebuttal to his words, a silent sentinel of his absence.

you made a cup of tea, the warmth of the mug a poor substitute for the warmth of his touch. each sip brought a bitterness that mirrored the taste of regret lingering in your mouth. you had tried to dissuade him, had begged him not to go. but his conviction had been unshakeable. he had to destroy the dark lord's locket.

you took the note with you into the living room, curling up on the couch where you had spent countless evenings with regulus, talking about your dreams and fears. the fireplace was cold, the hearth a silent sentinel of the warmth that used to fill the room. the ashes of past fires whispered of a time when hope had not been so distant.

as you sat there, the quietness of the house grew louder, each tick of the grandfather clock echoing through the emptiness like a mournful heartbeat. you knew you couldn't stay in this state of suspended animation forever. there were things to do, and decisions to make. but the thought of facing the world without him was as daunting as staring into the gaping maw of the veil.

you thought back to the moments of joy you had shared, the laughter that had once filled this space. the memory of your engagement was particularly vivid. his nervous smile as he slipped the ring onto your finger, the way your heart had soared when you realized the depth of his love. you had dreamed of a simple life together, free from the shackles of his family's legacy.

the two of you had talked endlessly about your future, about the children you would have, the adventures you would share. you had picked out names, painted mental images of a cozy cottage with a garden where your love could bloom without the shadow of the dark lord looming over it. but now, those dreams were as fragile as the porcelain figurines on the mantel, shattered beyond repair.

regulus had been so determined to leave his mark on the world, to break free from the chains of his family's fate. he had wanted to be remembered as a hero, not just as the younger brother of sirius black. the irony was not lost on you that he had found his redemption in the very act that had cost him his life.

the wedding plans lay scattered across the coffee table, a bittersweet testament to a future that would never be. the parchment invitations, now just a cruel reminder of what was to come. the guest list, with names of friends and family members who would now be attending a funeral instead of a celebration. the color swatches for the bridesmaid dresses, the menu choices, the seating chart – all of it now felt like a macabre joke played by a twisted fate.

you picked up a quill, the nib hovering over the parchment as you contemplated writing to the guests. but what could you say? that the groom was not coming back? that the love of your life had been claimed by the very darkness he sought to destroy? the ink remained untouched as you set the quill down, the words too painful to form.

the house-elf, kreacher, shuffled into the room, his eyes red and swollen from his own silent mourning. he had been with the black family for generations and had seen the worst of them. but regulus had been different, kinder. he had treated kreacher with respect, and in return, the elf had been fiercely loyal. now, he too bore the weight of his master's loss.

"missus," he croaked, his voice cracking with emotion. "breakfast is ready."

you looked up at him, the sadness in his eyes mirroring your own. "thank you, kreacher," you whispered, the words feeling heavy in your mouth. you had to keep going, for both of you. you had to find a way to navigate the minefield of your shattered life.

with a nod, you followed him into the dining room. the table was set for one, a single plate of toast and jam laid out with meticulous care. it was a stark reminder of the void that now existed where regulus should have been. you took a seat, more out of habit than hunger, and nibbled at the food. each bite tasted like ashes.

the day stretched out before you, an endless sea of empty hours to be filled with sorrow. but as you pushed the food around your plate, you felt a flicker of something else: resolve. regulus had died for a cause, and you would not let his sacrifice be in vain. you couldn't bring him back, but you could honor his memory by living the life he had fought for.

edited 8.24.24

[uh-oh-no]

just a random hc

reggies magic was easy to feel when he got upset or angry, his magic a visible to those around him and it scared people. He was emotionless at Hogwarts, always, and he would easily show his feelings through magic and intimidate people with it.

Sirius was always happy and behind a mask, like reg but a different kind of mask, he was reckless and kind with first years and always easy to read, at least what he wanted you to see. But there are few people who have felt Sirius' magic and it's terrifying. A joyfully boy turned into a robot and magic so powerful it feels like your drowning.

Walburga felt it once. She had tried to hit regulus with a crucio and got blasted through a wall and the room destroyed and flames flickering at every flamable surface. Sirius was only 14. And he could have killed her if he wanted to. But Sirius is not a murderer. Somehow not to her. She might hate him and he might hate her, but she has scared him to much.

And that's how the Black family works.

[manwrre]

every time i’m reading a hp fic and they mention regulus and kreacher, my chest hurts because i love them your honor. they mean the world to me. a boy and his fucking house elf have killed me, i keep thinking about that ‘my baby my baby you’re my baby’ song by mitski and listen, i know it’s mainly fanon but they’re everything TO ME

[that-bitch-kat3]

so i feel like i missed that Peter from ttpd is regulus to sirius. i was so caught up in the “peter” of it all that i totally missed it but-

“forgive me peter my lost fearless leader, In closets like cedar preserved from when we were just kids. is it something I did?” get it? cause he’s reflecting on being kids with sirius after he left?

“And I didn't want to come down. I thought it was just goodbye for now. You said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me.” get it cause he always thought he would come back?

“Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer I've heard great things Peter but life was always easier on you than it was on me” get it? cause now he’s watching sirius’s life from the wings and it looks like he had a way out the regulus never got

“And sometimes it gets me when crossing your jet stream we both did the best we could do underneath the same moon in different galaxies” get it? cause they were both just trying to survive and regulus knows that his brother was just doing his best in the same shitty situation.

“And I didn't want to hang around we said it was just goodbye for now.” get it? cause sirius left? and neither of them really thought it was the end. but then it was. hahaha

“Said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me. Words from the mouths of babes promises, oceans deep but never to keep.” get it? because regulus thought that sirius would be back as soon as he could. and how sirius thought he lost his brother but he was waiting for him?

“And I won't confess that I waited but I let the lamp burn, as the men masqueraded I hoped you'd return with your feet on the ground tell me all that you'd learned cause love's never lost when perspective is earned. And you said you'd come and get me but you were 25 [16]and the shelf life of those fantasies has expired lost to the lost boys chapter of your life forgive me Peter, please know that I tried, to hold onto the days when you were mine. But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.” i’m going to be sick.

im going insane

[wrenwroblen]

Don't mind him, he's just trying to survive in Black's house

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Infamous dark witch Bellatrix Lestrange & notorious mass murderer Sirius Black.

[lovethathookhausen730]

From Dante's Instagram Story

Happy 25th Birthday Hook🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤

[vomits0cutely]

Sirius: where did you come from? Planet Loser?

Regulus: as opposed to planet ‘Look At Me Look at me’?

[coquinaclutch]