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prologue. ( november first, nineteen seventy-nine )
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THE HOWLING WINDS COULD HARDLY BE HEARD inside the dingy flat, over the tearful cries of newborn baby. The stars were glimmering broadly in the obsidian sky, emitting a glow of silver across the city of London.
Seraphina Laurent laid up against a wooden bed frame, a small bundle of blankets wrapped tightly in her arms. Tracks of pearly tears were evident on her flushed cheeks, as drips of perspiration slid down the side of her face. Seraphina smiled warmly, adoration swimming in her amber eyes, as the baby's cries faded away and she stared around, her small hands clutching the blankets.
Regulus Black stood up against the wall, having not moved a muscle since his daughter was born. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, his thumb placed in the corner of his mouth. For some reason, Regulus couldn't find it within himself to approach his girlfriend, nor the baby she cradled in her arms. He wanted to, yet he couldn't.
"Regulus . . ." Seraphina's voice pulled him from his thoughts, her voice soft, timid. Regulus glanced up, and he couldn't help but think how utterly breathtaking she looked. As if carved from Aphrodite, Seraphina Laurent was blessed with unruly blonde curls that framed her sculptured face and piercing eyes that sought through you with one glance. It was no surprise Regulus had fallen for the Laurent witch, it was almost inevitable.
"Regulus, come here," Seraphina pleaded feebly, a yearning in her eyes that Regulus had not seen before.
"Sera－"
"Regulus, come here," Seraphina repeated, more sternly this time. Regulus' silver eyes darted between the door and the baby.
