The hotel was serene and ethereal as ever. The soothing music of the Shafiq's Harp magically calmed the clientele. Not that any pureblood would ever dare do something as uncouth as breaking societal rules.
Nevertheless, Heir Orion Black of the House of Black felt that today of all days - when he needed some peace for once, the famous Harp was failing him. He never liked taking potions and thus had decided against a calming draught. He was not at all in the mood for any socialising. Why then would he come to the famous L'Hortensia Blanc - where the creme de la creme of British pureblood society can be found? Well, for today he was here only for the magically induced zen state that their famous harpist Miss Sara Shafiq was known for. No one knew whether magic was in the musician or the instrument. Not that anyone would ever complain, after all, it did become the prime choice for meetings of various kinds. A calmer head is always beneficial.
Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor 2 days ago. To most wizards, the thought of their oldest child and heir sorted into the house of the bold and chivalrous would not be a concern. They might even celebrate it. Idiots! What do they know? What do they know of the responsibilities of being a Black Heir? What do they know about how much the family's futuredependson the right Lords and Heirs? What do they know about how much terror every single Black in the countrywakesup to?
Walburga.
No one knows.No one knows what living with the infamous Walburga Black is like. Orion would have snorted if he was uncouth enough -but he wasn't so there's that. For all her, perfectionist tendencies, Walburga was the furthest thing from perfection in Orion's eyes.
Orion sighed softly. On days like this, rare as they were, Orion's regrets overwhelmed him. He wasn't naive.No, he hadn't been lucky enough to claim naivety since he was 7. But, sometimes, he wondered if the old gods just might take mercy on him. He wanted to be free.
Even if that means death.
Unfortunately, his marriage vows forbid suicide, otherwise he would have been long gone. That and his sons. He couldn't leave them to Walburga's mercy. Even if he had never wanted children, he wouldn't want his flesh and blood to suffer.
The only thing a Black values is his blood.
Not his passion, his dreams, his heart - nothing.Only the bloodline. Only the legacy.
Merlin, it was exhausting sometimes. This time, a snort escaped. Sometimes? It was exhausting every damn second.
"My my, what might be so amusing to the infamous Orion Black?" a melodious female voice said.
Orion turned to look at the speaker, wondering who would dare interrupt his self-imposed gloom—and promptly flushed.