Archive of Our Own ^beta

September 1953

If there was one thing Cygnus craved more than anything else in the world, it was silence.

As he paced the nursery, his eyes constantly flicking to the silver clock on the wall, he tried to ignore the sound of crying. When he'd allowed Druella to go to her luncheon, he'd assumed that everything would be fine. After all, Andromeda would be tucked into her crib, and he'd have their house-elf to look after the girls whilst he did some work. What he hadn't counted on was that, unbeknownst to him, the wretched elf had passed away the day before, and crib or no crib, babies still made noise.

Wahhhh!

"Bellatrix, stop pulling faces at her," he said, pushing the toddler away from the crib.

The sound of little Andromeda's crying pierced his ears, sending his heart into a frantic beat. What did she want? Was she sick? Was she hurt? Was she in some unknown danger that he had to fix immediately?

Wahhhhhhh! Wahhhhhhhhhhh!

"Papa, look at this!"

"Not now, Bellatrix."

As Bellatrix tugged on his robes for attention, he racked his brain for a way to stop Andromeda's cries of pain.

"Papa, Papa, look what I can do!"

"Not now…"

His head was spinning; he wasn't cut out for such a task. He'd heard many people cry in the past, but each wail now was like a stab to his heart, and he just needed it to stop.

Wahhhhhhhh!

"Papa! Look!"

"Enough! Silencio!" Cygnus flicked his wand at Andromeda.

Immediately, his little girl's cries were cut off. Her chubby cheeks turned redder as her large, brown eyes stared up at him.

"Finally," Bellatrix said before toddling off to the other side of the nursery. "Peace!"

The sudden silence felt anything but peaceful, though, and quickly, Cygnus pointed his wand at Andromeda to reverse the spell. How could he have used magic against his flesh and blood like that? She was so young, so tiny; what if the charm was permanent? What if he'd done some serious damage and she'd now be forever mute?

Leaning over the edge of the crib, he bent down and awkwardly scooped up the infant. She didn't appear to look broken, and after blinking up at him for a few more seconds, fresh tears reformed in her eyes.

Wahhhhhhhhh!

This time, the loud wailing didn't hurt his heart nearly as much as he carried her around the room until Druella returned.

June 1959

"You can't cut Cissy's hair, Bella. Mama will be furious!"

"She won't notice unless you dob!"

Cygnus sighed and ran his hands through his thick, russet hair. He'd been staring at the same pile of parchment for the last half hour, trying to make sense of what his idiot of a brother was trying to do. It seemed Alphard wanted to invest a large portion of their father's money into a joke shop of all places, but understanding where his mind was at was almost impossible with the noise echoing outside his office.

"I'm going to hide all the scissors!"

"Who said I'm going to use scissors?"

He squinted at the figures Alphard had hastily scribbled down. A tidy profit of six million Galleons in the first year didn't seem possible, unless…

"If you tell, I'll cut your hair too!"

Throwing his quill down, Cygnus stood up and stormed over to the doorway. Looking down the hallway, he glared at his two eldest children as they wrestled.

"If you don't cut this out..."

"Sorry, Papa, Bella's trying to cut—"

"No, I'm not! Father, Andy's lying—"

"Am not! Ow!"

"Silencio!" With a flick of his wand, he rendered both of his daughters silent.

Andromeda hung her head and looked at her feet, whilst Bellatrix stared back at him.

"How am I supposed to think with all this racket?" he said, pointing his wand at them again. "Prior Incanto."

Bellatrix opened her mouth, seeming to test if her voice really was back. "It wasn't my fault," she said, pouting.

She turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway, and Cygnus expected Andromeda to do the same. The brunette, however, looked up at him, her cheeks rosy.

"Sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to disturb your work," she said softly.

Cygnus felt his own cheeks burn as he looked at his daughter. Only Druella thought using magic on the children was a good thing, and yet he'd just taken away Andromeda's voice without a second thought.

"Yes, well, no harm done," he said. He turned back to his office, hoping that there really was no harm done.

December 1968

"I'm telling you, Cygnus, you spoil them too much!"

"I'm telling you, Druella, you're going too far!"

Cygnus' chest heaved up and down as he glared at his wife. As always, she seemed to be making a huge fuss out of nothing. Whilst he agreed that no Black should ever fail an exam, Divination was hardly a subject worth fretting over.

"Punish her properly, Cygnus, or I will," Druella said, meeting his gaze with equal vehemence.

He knew she wasn't bluffing, and sighed. "Fine, but leave the room. I don't need you to hold my hand whilst I do it."

Druella sent him a look that said, 'Don't go easy,' and led a smirking Bellatrix and bored Narcissa out of the room.

When they were gone, he turned to Andromeda. His daughter looked apologetic, but he couldn't be sure if it was because she hadn't passed her assessment, or if she somehow knew of the pain punishing her would cause him.

"I'm sorry, Papa," she said.

"I'll have to use the Stinging Hex," he replied, taking out his wand.

Andromeda nodded and held out her hands. Before he could flick his wand and get it over with, though, she cleared her throat.

"Papa? May I ask a favour?"

"Your mother will know if we only pretend," he said.

Andromeda shook her head and gave him a small smile. "I know; I think Bellatrix is outside listening. That's why I wanted to ask… well… do you mind casting the Silencing Charm? I don't want her to get any more satisfaction hearing me cry out."

Cygnus' heart gave another jolt, and he had half a mind to put an end to Druella's ridiculous request then and there. However, he simply nodded and pointed his wand at his daughter.

"Silencio."

She still flinched with each wand lash that came after, but it hurt just a little less not being able to hear her cry.

June 1970

"Papa? Will you please just hear me out?"

Cygnus took deep breaths as he focused on the parchment in front of him. He needed to find a way to keep his new son-in-law, Rodolphus, out of the family business without risking his eldest daughter's wrath, but it was hard to do so with each word Andromeda spoke.

"Please, Papa, you're not like Mother. I know that if you just got to know Ted, you'll see he's no different to any of us."

The mere mention of the Mudblood's name felt like a knife running through his heart. He could hear the pleading in Andromeda's voice, but he remained focused on his work.

"Ted will make me happy—"

"Silencio."

Cygnus placed his wand on his desk. He couldn't listen to her utter his name one more time. Taking another deep breath, he finally turned to face her.

Andromeda was staring at him in shock. A few tears were sliding down her pale cheeks, but her eyes held a defiance within them as she folded her arms.

She didn't look like his little girl anymore. How could she when she had done the one thing she knew would break his heart?

Shaking his head, he swept past her to the door of his office. He only paused long enough to reverse the spell and say, "I hope he does," before leaving the room.

July 1970

Silence engulfed the manor as Cygnus sat on the bed. Druella and Narcissa were at Grimmauld Place, but he couldn't bear to tag along. It wasn't necessarily because he wanted to avoid another inevitable Druella-Walburga fight, when the two witches would no doubt resume their petty 'My Thestral is bigger than yours' competitions they always had. In fact, it was quite the opposite; the two women would probably be getting along, admiring the new adjustments to the family tree tapestry they'd recently made.

His brown eyes wandered around the bedroom, lingering over the few objects that had survived Druella's scorn. The handle of a hairbrush was still on the charred dresser, and the corner of a burnt poster featuring Celestina Warbeck remained pinned to the wall.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he turned from the reminders of his little girl. If there was one thing he no longer craved, it was her silence.