(So I wrote a little fanfiction based off of your Toujours Pure fanfiction. Hope you like it, the characters used is your Walburga and the femcast of marauders)
Walburga had to admit, the girl had fire in her. There had been many times over these 16 years that Siri had screamed at her and certainly this was not the first time she had threatened to leave the house of Black. All those little disruptions could be quelled with a quick lash of Walburga’s wand, a harsh reminder from her that her daughter would not be leaving the person who birthed her.
But today was different, never before had her oldest child stood at the door bag in hand to announce it was final, she was leaving and not coming back. Walburga took in the scene before her,
“Just where do you think you’ll live exactly? With your little half blood friend of yours? Lupin was it?”
She watched as Siri’s face contorted into a vicious grin,
“Actually mother, she’s not just my friend, She’s my girlfriend.” Siri spat at her, her eyes appearing almost eager to witness the rage that was slowing building in Walburga.
Walburga composed herself before raising one slim eyebrow, “Oh I doubt that will last, and certainly not after she’s stuck with you in whatever shack she resides in.”
Her daughter had never quite mastered the art of composure, her face turned a harsh shade of red and her voice became shrill as she screached, “ ” It won’t matter where we are because I love her and she loves me! You might find it hard to believe mother but despite how you treat me I am not unloveable.“
Love. The word itself forced Walburga to focus on less desirable times, words spoken to her by her own mother so long ago, like before she had the urge to scream, to cry. But as she focused on her daughter, her oldest child almost panting with rage, another feeling rose in her. The urge to make someone else scream and cry instead. She turned to walk away, reaching the staircase before she turned back to her daughter with a small smile lingering on her face. Siri’s rage visibly faulted, fear begining to blossom on the face that was so similar to Walburga’s. It was widely known that when Walburga smiled nothing good would follow.
"Unloveable? No Siri you are not unloveable.” Her voice was sweet like syrup as surprise showed on Siri’s face. “ But take it from the woman who birthed you, you are very hard to love."
With those final words she ignored the small sob that her daughter released and made her way up stairs, a strange mixture of rage and vindication rising in her. It was time to remove the filth from the family tree.
