1 | the family black

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January fourteenth, nineteen-sixty

CYGNUS BLACK WAS a very stoic man, raised in a belief that a person's face was their tell— their very undoing, and for a family as infamous as the most ancient and noble Black's, you don't rise to the very top of society if your motives and secrets are written across your face.

This however did not stop the man from pacing the floor of his study, arms crossed— deep in thought, his eyebrows creased and worry lines deepened on that cold winter day as he awaited the news that could possibly change the course of his family's fortune thus far.

He was a father of three girls, three lovely pureblood girls— which most men would be satisfied with, though not if you were a Black, as when you were a Black there was nothing in wizarding Britain more important than an heir.

Cygnus himself of course was not the Head of house Black, that burden fell with the husband of his sister Walburga, who was their cousin—though it would be a lie to suggest Cygnus didn't secretly hope to produce boys that would transfer the line of succession to his branch of the family.

Though three daughters and a newborn son blessed only months prior to his sister later, that would not be the case, and he could only hope that the child his wife was currently labouring would be his long awaited son, so at least in the end his line wouldn't face extinction.

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It seemed that luck was not in Cygnus' favour that night, as six hours later not one, but two daughters were born into the Noble and most Ancient House of Black.

Perenelle and Vaudeline, both rosy cheeked and plump, perfectly healthy— though not sons.

Though the two were twins, the girls could not be more different, one with hair black as night, and the other with hair as gold as the dawn, though Perenelle Black knew it was far more than the colour of their hair that set the two apart.

There was an unspoken rule among their family, though if it was ever broken it was quickly reinforced aloud; Black's are not emotional, we are a force to be reckoned with.

It worked for her father, and it most definitely was instilled in her eldest sister Bellatrix, though Perenelle— ever desperate to please her parents, never found herself able to follow their simple cardinal rule.

Perenelle couldn't help that she felt, she felt so deeply, the girls emotions spilling out of her at every whim whether it be positive or negative, much to the chagrin of her parents.

Her mother did always say she cried more than Vaudeline as an infant, though whether it was meant as an insult to her— as they put it, severe character flaw, it was an insult that flew over the young Perenelle's head, smile stretching wide as she giggled, apologizing for keeping the maid up so often so many years ago.

Perenelle adored her family— enamoured by the gowns her mother wore, the way her older sisters did their hair, and especially her cousin Sirius, only a few months older than her and Vaudeline.

The two were thick as thieves— as Andromeda had called them, running through the halls of their family's estates, begging Vaudeline to join them despite her pleas to leave her to her dolls, Sirius— despite being bound by blood and last name, was her very best friend.

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