Death is a funny thing. A little thing sometimes, a big thing others—but a funny thing nonetheless. For it can elude you all your life yet the moment you turn your back, it is there. Watching. Waiting. Like a hungry beast learning when it should strike.

The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black was no stranger to death. None of the prestigious pureblood families were—and the Blacks especially. One does not come into power and stay in power whilst remaining on the good side of morality. To become a true Black, your heart and your soul must be the color of your last name. How else are you supposed to succeed?

There were whispers, of course, of what went on behind the closed doors of the House of Black. But they were merely that: whispers. No one truly knew what happened with the Blacks except for the Blacks themselves. If one of them told one of their many secrets, it would be the last thing they said. Still, that doesn't stop the public from speculating.

Orgies on the second floor of the great manor. Muggle sacrifices once a certain member came of age. Madmen and psychotics throwing the grandest parties the Wizarding World had ever seen. These were the things you could expect to hear about the Noble House of Black on any given day—but were any of them true? Well, if they were, no one would tell you. Not if they enjoyed staying alive.

There were some things people did know—such as the beauty of the three Black sisters or the brooding nature of the handsome Regulus. They knew of mischievous Sirius and of cruel Wahlburga. They knew of the way that all Black children were required to wear the color of their last name at some point on their person. They knew that all Black children supported pureblood ideals. They would know of what led to the family's demise—Regulus's early death, Sirius and Andromeda's defection, Bellatrix's imprisonment. But those all happen much later. For now, we'll go to the story. And our story begins on a warm midsummer's night in 1968 when the House of Black threw a grand party for all of the ancient houses. The party was fairly boring and most of the topics were about the budding beauty of the three Black sisters.

But the next day? Well, that is where things get interesting. Because the next day, the body of a young, seventeen-year-old pureblood boy was found in the gardens of Black Manor. Dead, mutilated, and so, so interesting. That's where our story begins. On a dreary rainy day where three beautiful sisters sat, not knowing their lives would forever be changed in just a few short hours...