A Black's Tears

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All rights belong to the author, Dawn96

They were raised not to cry. That was their rule. Blacks don't cry. When things got desperate, they were not allowed to cry. When things got stressed they were not allowed to cry. When things got tough and helpless, they were not allowed to cry. When they felt the need to cry, they were not allowed to cry.

Crying was a face of weakness, and Blacks were not those to be called weak. They were strong and stone-hearted, they were not emotional pricks who felt the need to show their emotions to the world. No. they were supposed to bottle it up, make themselves a void to the world- keep themselves from the impurity of the world. They had to keep clean and pure, and not let those who are unworthy to interfere with them.

"We Blacks don't cry. We don't give our feelings- our tears to those who are unworthy of us. Since we are the most highest, we can't let anyone lower than our status to see..."

"Hold your head high, for all those around you a filth, and you are the one purifying this world." Black's don't cry- we're not weak and we don't show any of it!"

By time, things got desperate-things got tense as the war had started to grow and rise at such a rate that they couldn't hold on. Sirius would gaze at her. Lily. She was sobbing her heart out on James' shoulder and he was holding his tears- not for shame- but for giving her strength. He caught a few tears falling out of his brimmed eyes, but he did not wipe them away, ashamed. He kept her in his arms and cried with her, as the world was tightening around them. Sirius wanted nothing but to have that cry right now- wanted nothing but to pour his woes and relieve his heart... nothing but to join them in letting his agony out... but he couldn't. Old habits die hard...

Blacks don't cry.

She was losing her mind. The Dark Lord, or Rudolphus? Her husband or her master? Rudolphus had loved her- he still loved her even though they were arranged to please their families. But he loved her- he loved her with such passion and true that she wanted to cr- no! Blacks don't cry! Then there was the Dark Lord. He had praised her- his most loyal, his most faithful, the most powerful, the most... He had praised her so much- beyond his other Death Eater and she always caught his eyes casting over her with that satisfied smile... She didn't know if she loved Rudolphus... did she? She felt nothing towards him. When his name was told, her heart didn't flicker... when he cast his arms around her, she didn't flinch in content, when he kissed her, she couldn't help but imagine someone else was doing it...

It hurt. Her mind, her brain, her thoughts! She felt so tensed and so stressed that she wanted to scream, to curse, to yell, to kill... to cry... but she couldn't... Orders were hard to let go of...

Blacks don't cry.

Narcissa rocked back and forth in her bed. She couldn't stop thinking that her mind threatened to blow up. Lucius was in Azkaban, Draco was in danger, the Dark Lord was keeping his eyes all over her, Bellatrix was on the loose... She was going to lose her son. She was going to lose him and that was a fact- there was no way Draco could achieve such a mission! He was going to die and she knew it! Her son was dying and her heart was pumping pain through her veins... then, why wasn't she crying? Why wasn't she pouring her heart out in agony for what was going to become of her only child- her only son... a part of her, a part of her blood and flesh and bone... a part of her was dying and she couldn't bring herself to mourn- why? She tried... she tried so hard but she always remembered that command... But Draco was worthy of her tears- he was! He was! He was worth all the Blacks! But... some rules weren't meant to be broken...

Blacks don't cry.

He was dying. He was going to die. It was a complete fact- so true and so clear. The locket dangled in between his finger that he heard the faint rustling of the paper inside it from the silence that enveloped it. He was going to die. He stared into the depths of the fire that licked distastefully against the wood. It took over everything leaving ash... a symbol of their victory. But... he had no victory... he was the ash, slowly left then thrown away. He thought of Sirius, who probably hated his living guts, he thought of Narcissa, whose tortured face was a vivid picture in his mind from what Lucius was going through, he thought of Andromeda, whom he hadn't seen since he was twelve, he thought of Bellatrix, who was probably on the search for his blood... He thought of his father, who was barely seen at home, he thought of his mother, who called him 'Sirius' to ease her pain... why was everything so dark? Why was everything so messed up and so painful? When did he get himself trapped into this mess? When? Why did life take a turn like this?

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