A pained moan brings Molly out of her thoughts. She glances at the glistening white bedsheets towards the occupant on the bed, Lorcan D'Eath. The boy's pale eyelids begin to show initial signs of stirring. "Dobby!" She loudly said causing Bill to startle awake in a panic.
Gasping with real terror in his blue eyes, Bill glances around in panic, before Molly quickly soothes her son. "It's alright, Bill. It's safe, I am here now."
Bill blinks blearily at his mother, a loud pop causes him to flinch in fear remembering the sound of the terrible events of that night. "Dobby is here!" The house elf squeaked.
"Please go summon, Dorea Potter," Molly explained, "the child is awakening."
"Dobby obeys!" The house elf proudly squeaked before vanishing.
Feeling Bill hiding his face in her shoulder, Molly pulls Bill closer and begins to hum, an old lullaby ancient lullaby said to originate from when man and wizard still lived in unison. Perchance, there was even some truth to the tale as all wizarding cultures still possessed the song in some variance or another. The antiquity of the lullaby had even been confirmed by the oldest wizard in existence, Barry Winkle, who was born in 1236, (739 years old in 1975). The oldest wizard in existence could still recall the lullaby being sung even in his own childhood!
Trying to settle Bill and comfort the awakening poor boy, Molly softly begins to sing the ancient lullaby.
Never hunger,
Never seek,
Lest wishes spring
And awaken the Beast.
In days of yore,
The Beast awoke
To an empty heart
That is numb with cold.
Insatiable hunger,
Greed-
The Beast devours,
Friends and Foes.
Adversaries,
Life and Death embrace,
The Hourglass overturns,
Fate and Destiny reversed,
The Tapestry unravels,
The Stars descend,
Heaven and Earth clash,
The Beast slayed.
Triumphant anguish,
Latent seeds,
The Hourglass flows,
Fate and Destiny returns.
Never hunger,
Never seek,
Lest wishes spring
And return the Beast.
Molly's voice trails off leaving Bill much calmer and Lorcan breathing more at ease. She lets out a quiet relieved sigh and hears the soft creak of the door opening behind her. The pale face of Dorea Potter can be seen. Her gray eyes scan the room, before falling onto the slumbering child. His eyelids flutter trying to awaken from their profound slumber.
"You have been here long enough, Molly," Dorea thanked the younger witch. "Go and have a bit to eat with Narcissa and Andromeda, and the children."
"I suppose a light meal will do me good," Molly sincerely murmurs, before letting out a huff at the weight of Bill in her arms. "Gravitas Penna," she muttered under her breath pointing it at her son. Instantly the Feather-light charm causes Bill's weight to become that much lighter and more bearable. The two of them depart from the room with Bill's sleepy blue eyes peeking over his mother's shoulder in the direction of Lorcan long after they are gone.
Dorea quietly shuts the door behind her, before pointing at the rocking chair. "Wingardium Leviosa!" She casts the levitation charm and easily moves the rocking chair nearer to the bedside of the awakening boy.
With a sigh, Dorea nestles into the comfortable chair and tucks her shawl around her. Her gray eyes carefully take in the boy before her. Earlier that morning, she had spoken to the children of her niece and cousins. Cousin Bartemius Crouch Sr. was the only son of her Aunt Charis (nee Black). And it was his son, Barty Crouch Jr. that knew most of about Lorcan D'Eath since he was his mentor in Hufflepuff. She rather approved of the match and learned all that she could from the son of her cousin.
To her surprise, Dorea had learned that Rowan and Severus Prince were outstanding Perfects tutoring many of the younger years in their free time regardless of House. Even more importantly, Rowan Prince had taken Lorcan D'Eath under her wing and requested that Barty Crouch Jr. protect the 1st year Hufflepuff. It was gratifying to learn that she had made the correct choice in becoming the godmother of the Prince grandchildren.
A low moan pulls Dorea away from her thoughts. Her spotted pale hand reaches over and hesitates, before gently smoothing the boy's raven dark hair. The moans soften comforted and slowly his soulless inky black eyes open causing Dorea to pull her hand back.
Confused and dazed, Lorcan peers at elegant surroundings. A frown appears at on his face, before panic ensues as his last memories return. "Mum?!" He cried out in fright. "Mum," he cried out louder.
"Shh, child, I want you to take a deep steady breath for me," Dorea firmly said. "In and Out and only then I will answer your questions, Lorcan D'Eath."
Lorcan automatically obeyed and did as he was told, before staring about with anxious eyes at the older witch. He'd never met the witch before, but he instantly recognized the gray eyes. He knew that she must be a member of the Black family. And considering his surroundings, he was likely at one of their properties, but he couldn't be certain.
"First of all, I am Dorea Potter nee Black. On behalf of the Black household, I wish to thank you for your part in saving our kin. If it wasn't for your timely warning, we would have lost far more," Dorea quietly said, "and for that, we are in your debt."
"I'm not looking to be repaid," Lorcan stammered remembering everything he had learned from his friend, Frederick Baddock and Jeremy Heskel about wizarding etiquette. "It was the proper thing to do."
"Mm, yes, you have a good heart," Dorea said sadly recalling her own son, Charlus. "My son was much like you full of hope and cunning."
Lorcan refrains from asking more about the older witches' son. He had the past tense used by Dorea Potter to describe her son. He wasn't stupid, he knew that meant her son was no longer among the living.
"And my mum?" Lorcan quickly asked before they stray off subject.
"I am sorry, Lorcan," Dorea apologetically informed the child. "I regret to say, but Juliet D'Eath, your mother, and Bilius Weasley did not survive-."
Lorcan is unable to hear any more as a great rushing sound fills his ears. He may have fainted or not, but when he came too, Dorea Potter had finished speaking. Great big watery tears slide down his pale face as he struggles to hold back his loud sniffles. He sobbed there quietly interrupted except for Dorea Potter handing him a handkerchief.
Tears slid down Lorcan's face until finally, they ceased to flow to an occasional drizzle. It may have been minutes or even an hour, but his eyes and nose were red and puffy. He blew his nose rather loudly still sniffing loudly. He peeked at the older witch through damp eyelashes.
"What-?" Lorcan's hoarse voice falters in his throat. What was he going to do without his mum? Did he have to go to an orphanage? What about mum's things back at the house?!
Seeing the boy begin to hyperventilate, Dorea reaches over and awkwardly pats him on the hand. "Lorcan, your mother's things and your things have been safely packed away by the family house elves. The livestock is in the care of neighbors and the farmhouse thankfully remains still intact. But you cannot be permitted to live there by yourself, Lorcan, you are still underage. In the meantime, the house has been magically sealed away to be used and inherited by you once you are of age."
"Will I have to leave at Hogwarts?" Lorcan's voice trembled. "I mean, I'm an orphan now and mum didn't have much money at Gringott's. Sending me to Hogwarts was tough, mum, took a lot of side jobs to pay for my schooling."
"You need not worry about that child, all will be taken care of," Dorea smoothly answered. Seeing Lorcan's unconvinced expression, she sighs. "I did not wish to propose quite so soon, but seeing your worry, I fear that you will only dreadfully fret otherwise."
Glancing firmly into his eyes, Dorea says, "I am a widow, child. My husband and son passed away many years ago." She paused and smiled sadly at him. "I understand loss, sorrow, and loneliness far more than anyone else. As such, if you would like Lorcan, my home has plenty of room to house a child. I would be honored to be your guardian."
"Why?" Lorcan suspiciously asked. It wasn't that he didn't believe that the offer was genuine, but his Mum used to say there were no such things as free lunches in this world. There had to be a catch! A sniffle escapes his mouth at recalling his mum's voice and he struggles not to tear up again.
"The Black family owes you a life debt," Dorea truthfully answered, "and I am old, and lonely. Who better than a lonely old widow to guide you through your dreadful loss?" She paused and gained the courage to gently ruffle his head. "And I never had a grandchild, I would like to see my home once more filled with the sounds of joy and laughter in my old age."
Lorcan's soulless black eyes flicker to the elderly witch's pale, wrinkled face. He could easily see the strain of time and loss. Her eyes were devoid of a joy that others possessed, and one presently reflected in his own eyes. He was uncertain as to whether to accept the offer since the offer seemed just too good to be true. Yet his instincts reassured him, and his instincts had never been wrong before.
With a hint of uncertainty in his voice, Lorcan stifles a sniffle. "I would like to accept your offer, Mrs. Potter." He hesitated to add, "But are you certain that the rest of the Black's won't mind? I mean, er, they're purebloods, and I'm…" his voice trailed off.
"The entire family has already approved the guardianship," Dorea firmly replied as her eyes lit up with joy. Perchance, it was selfish of her, but she wanted a child for her own again. And this poor child was alone in this world like her, she would not let this child suffer all on his own.
Reaching over Dorea gently patted his head again. "You may call me, Dorea, Lorcan. I won't be Mrs. Potter to you, child."
Lorcan nods his head numbly feeling overwhelmed by everything. "Rest for a bit child, I will have the house elves bring some soup and a lighter meal," Dorea instructed.
"I'm not hungry," Lorcan mumbled.
"I know child," Dorea gazed at him with sympathy in her gray eyes. "But eating is for the living."
Lorcan sniffs again and lies back on the bed trying not to sob. Dorea quietly consoles the grieving child until Dobby arrives with a light supper. There would be many days of grief and pain to follow, but with the passage of time, the pain would dissipate. The loss never truly goes away like an old scar that aches with the rain. Yet it is possible to live, smile, and even laugh again.