CRAZY RICH PUREBLOODS, sirius black

。ﾟ☆ 1. LADY OF THE HOUSE

CRAZY RICH PUREBLOODS.
VOLUME ONE: FOREIGN TERRITORY.
CHAPTER ONE: FAILURE FROM WITHIN.

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          WALBURGA BLACK WAS A PUREBLOOD. It would he sheer nonsense to even attempt in objectifying the fact━━ she practically radiated such energy. The Black family was royalty ( or at least as close as it got ) and she was no exception to the bloodline.

          Dark locks piled in an elegant chignon at the back of her head, not a strand daring to revolt from it's spot, and Dark eyes— lifeless yet royal. Worth millions at least. She was beauty of divinity, and held costs of infinite amounts. She was nothing if not the top of the food chain. A diamond born from pressure.

          However, the familiarized royalty of the Black family had gone crashing down when Irma Black━━ mother dearest, if you must━━ remarried after the death of her late husband, Pollux Black. Remarrying was far from a sin, quite common if anything, yet Irma Black had found a way to tarnish the mere word. She was found away to tarnish the seemingly invincible royalty of the Black family, and the name they carried.

          Irma Black had remarried to a muggle.

          The pride that carried the Black family above all else had vanished as though it were dust carried away by the wind. As though it hadn't been there to begin with. The Blacks━━ Walburga Black━━ blood of sheer purity running through her veins had been turned a woman scored. No matter the blood that flooded her veins, she was now nothing but a pureblood with that of a vile label. A label that spoke volumes.

          Respect had long dispersed.

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ENTER: NEW YORK CITY, 1969.

          THE LONDON SKY CRIED IN POOLS OF SORROW, sadness enveloping the city. Skies of darkness carried only that of tears and dimly lit buildings that ached for euphoria.

          Walburga Black's lips pulled into a frown as scolds left her lips towards her two infant sons who had previously been parading around in the rain. "Get inside, you'll get sick!" she scolded, holding the door to the grand building open.

The two younger boys halted their actions in an an instant, scurrying into the linoleum-tiled foyer, droplets of water departing their coats in exchange for the previously spotless tiles alongside the depths of umber their boots had collected from the dampened grass.

She refrained from letting scolds fall from her lips, as her eyes trailed the scorned tiles, instead turning to her brother, Cygnus with distaste upon her tongue. "If you didn't make us walk, maybe we wouldn't have been soaked," she complained, her raven locks clinging to her ivory features.

         Not bothering to await an answer as her brother attempted to hush his daughters, she spun on her obsidian heels, turning towards the front desk of the previously reticent building. The men whom remained at the desk watched curiously with a connotation of revulsion as they slowly began to recognize her. It was impossible to miss a member of the Noble house of Black.

"May I help you?" one of the men inquired, his lips pressing into a frown. "This is the Langham, a private hotel, ma'am," he continued, emphasizing the word private as if to imply she was far from welcome.