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" In June 1980, a daughter was born to the ill-fated union of Sirius Black and Rosalee Rosier. Tragically, Rosalee passed away and Sirius was imprisoned in Azkaban, leaving Viola at the mercy of her...
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SEPTEMBER 1, 1991;
Does a conviction as resolute as 'Toujours Pur,' those hefty, glacial like words that cleave the world in twain, dare to exist beyond the confines of Viola's reality? Viola remained uncertain, her grasp on such matters tenuous at best. Yet, truth be told, she harbored no inclination to unravel the enigma. Instead, she simply lived, occupying a coveted place of prominence within the pure-blood realm she called home.
Viola, even at the tender age of ten, possessed an innate understanding of her position. The illustrious Black family, akin to regal lineage, held sway over their realm. And she, the sole young scion amidst the weathered and barren branches, represented the family's sole hope for a future, for heirs to carry on their legacy.
And when Viola emerged into the world, a beacon of light amidst shadows, she became the embodiment of hope from Sirius and Rosalee. Like a solitary droplet in an arid sea, her existence held the promise of a brighter future. Though others spoke of a fortuitous prophecy that foretold her destiny, Viola herself remained uncertain, questioning the veracity of their claims.
In this moment, Viola found herself upon the train station platform, a misty exhale escaping her lips, a testament to the frigid September air that pierced her very core. Despite the early stage of autumn, an icy chill prevailed, causing her to huddle closer, her arms tightly crossed in a feeble attempt to shield herself from the cold.
The station was dimly lit, its wooden benches worn and weathered. She shivered, not just from the cold, but from the icy silence that hung between her and her grandmother.
Viola's grandmother, a figure of unwavering composure, stood a mere few paces apart, her gaze locked onto the tracks. The expanse that stretched between them seemed insurmountable, akin to an impassable void, leaving Viola with a sense of profound separation.
Victorie Rosier, a highly respected and well-known figure in the wizarding world. Coming from a long line of French Pure-blood heritage, her family's nobility shines brightly.
The elegance they had managed to carry through every family member was highly admired by very germane families. Who mostly come from The Sacred twenty-eight.
Ever since Viola can remember, her grandmother has informed her about everything she could possibly need to know regarding what matters and what doesn't matter, what they stand for and what they don't stand for, what they believe and what they don't believe in. It has all been crystal clear to the young Viola Black.
"Are you ready, Viola?" asked Victorie.
The light shone dimly on the side of her face, and despite the slight breeze, Rosier's blonde hair remained perfectly in place, a side part that slicked back into a low bun. Her inky coat with pearl buttons concealed whatever she was wearing underneath.
