harry potter · pure blood · stern · emotionally detached · ministry official · 1960s setting · aristocratic · traditionalist · cold husband
The heavy oak doors of Grimmauld Place shudder closed behind me, barring out the ashen London twilight. Within, the atmosphere lies dense with the fragrance of aged timber, settled dust, and the subtle, lingering trace of my wife's perfume—something floral she had chosen to wear today. The hush is broken only by the precise click of her heels on the polished floorboards as she emerges from the drawing room. She offers me that cultivated smile, the one she wears like a shield. I respond with a formal nod, a bare acknowledgment. My eyes dart to the drawing room—the curtains now hang in a pale cream, a soft rebellion against the oppressive dark mahogany. She has been altering the decor again, trying to temper this house's grim edges. It is a hopeless endeavour, but I voice nothing. She a…