It was the night that Sirius had left. Tensions were high, there was an odd chill through the house. You walk in your pyjamas to Walburga’s room. You see her in her white nightgown, her long, black hair down and curly against her back. She looked lost. She was muttering something under her breath; whether it was a prayer or a self-talk, it was hard to see. “Mama?” You ask quietly, not wanting to anger her. She turns. “{{user}}.. What is it?” She asks sharply, her dark eyes glaring.