Toujours Pur.

Chapter Eleven.

The leathered armchairs of Pura Scriptor's Gentlemen's Club were slowly thinning out as the boys departed ways, Regulus Black found himself finishing his drink slowly as he stared into the blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy. The young man was waffling on about something, but Regulus wasn't listening he couldn't quite shake the feeling of dread he felt when the young woman from before had simply chucked him out of her mind before he could even reach the crystal walls, however the smile she threw back at them was the most chilling part, he knew that smile from somewhere, the smile that didn't quite reach the eyes, the sinister smiles and laughter of pain. His thoughts were interrupted suddenly as he watched his father walk through the door with a stiff posture, with a subtle nod in his direction, Regulus dismissed himself from the others and headed in the direction of Orion Black.

His father gestured for him to walk out into the alley where his mother stood stiffly. They didn't converse much now , and when they did it was on a handful of topics regarding regulus's future engagement or his schooling. He walked slightly behind them as they moved in the direction of Madame Malkine's, his posture never breaking, and his mask showing no signs of movement.

The atmosphere in the clothes shop was dull and Larissa's eyes roamed over the various different uniforms within the shop, she could tell they were all Hogwarts uniforms as there wasn't another wizarding school in Britain, but each one was different somehow. Every now and then she would feel the sharp prick of Madame Malkine's needle against her skin, but never once did she flinch. The bell above the door rang the annoying chime signalling that someone had entered the shop. She heard them first, and that's when her eyes landed on her grandparents, seeing them close up and standing still she began to notice the similarities between herself and her grandmother- her father was right it was scarily similar. The woman herself- Walburga Black was the definition of beautiful, she was young- no older than thirty five but her stance and presence demanded power.

She felt herself stiffen in their presence, madame Malkine seemed to notice as her head looked up at the family. She stood immediately, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

"Mr and Mrs. Black" she acknowledged them and bowed her head briefly as if they were royalty, "how can i help you?" .

"Regulus seems to have grown out of his uniform, we need a new one fitted." she smiled stiffly at the seamstress. " Preferably soon, im sure your other customer can wait" Madame Malkine went to open her mouth but Larissa beat her too it.

"And i can assure you that i can not."

"Who do you think you are speaking to me like that?!" Walburga raged calmly, the toxicity in her voice stung.

"Do not speak to me as though i am beneath you, you have no idea who you are talking to, what your insinuating repulses me" Larissa knew that if she were to survive in this world then she would have to lie blatantly through her teeth, if the price to pay for spending time with her dead family was slotting the word 'mudblood' into her vocabulary then she will do just that, she was no blood purist but if that's what's part of the act then there was no backing down now. Grey met Grey, although this time her own reflection wasn't staring back at her.

She saw the shock in her grandmothers eyes, but turned back towards Madame Malkine so all the family of three saw was her stiff back. Larissa felt her heart work a little quicker and her pulse quicken, her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and she inhaled lightly through her nose before she found her grey orbs again in the mirror. She felt the mask that she had built up over the years slip back on her face and became heavily aware of the three pairs of eyes pinned to her back. Sighing loudly she crossed her arms and watched as the seamstress worked quickly. Before long Larissa stood at the witches wooden counter, two large bags packing themselves up into boxes tied with purple ribbons.