#interaction grant and amycus

[purebloods-mudbloods]

—Sin duda son un tanto estúpidas y se confían fácilmente— aquellas eran características de las que ellos se aprovechaban con facilidad y era algo que Grant disfrutaba. Al escuchar al contrario brindar no dudó en imitarlo —Por el nuevo orden mágico— le dio un largo trago a su copa y después se atrevió a preguntar —¿Te divertirte bastante en año nuevo?—

—Ah, el equipo de seguridad. Los aurores nunca han sido un ejemplo a seguir, ¿no? —Se burló, recordando las torturas a las que se habían visto implicados. Por lo que sabía, la mayoría continuaba fuera de servicio—. Pues salud, por el nuevo orden mágico —se llevó la copa a sus labios.

[mila-dolohov]

February 14, 1981

She didn’t necessarily want to kill Antonin.  All things considered, he wasn’t a horrible person.  He was just someone who benefited from the antiquated betrothal system, and she simply was not.  She got nothing from this marriage -- she had been forced to move away from her home, from her family and her best friends, to a place where she knew no one but a pair of cousins she saw only on holidays.  Granted, Alecto and Amycus were literal perfection, the best part of this entire mess, but it still wasn’t enough.  She had money now, but it was money she had little control over.  She had a surname that commanded respect, but it wasn’t respect of her own making.  This marriage was a step for her in the right direction, and she had to take matters into her own hands if she were to keep moving.

“Good morning,” Antonin said with a soft smile, speaking to her in Russian as he glanced at her over his copy of the newspaper.

She hated the news sources in England.  They were far too apologetic in the face of what those in power knew to be true -- that Muggleborns were directly responsible for so many of their societies’ problems.  From the divisiveness, to the fighting, to the dilution of their culture.  They played too nicely here, which, she supposed, was the reason for the war at all.  If things were more decisive the rightful people would have made their way to the top already.  

“Good morning,” she responded.  It had always been her favorite thing about him, the way he spoke one of the languages she grew up speaking.  It was like a little slice of home.  “Would you like some more coffee?�� I’m going to fix a mug for myself.”

At his noise of thanks she reached up to grab a pair of mugs, being sure to grab two different ones so she didn’t accidentally get them mixed up.  There was literally nothing she could cook well, but she could manage to put together a cup of coffee.  Carefully she pulled a tiny vial of clear liquid from her bra, putting four single drops in the bottom of his mug before gently placing the stopper back in the bottle and tucking it back into her bra.  Once the poison was out of sight she reached for the coffee, pouring a generous amount over the top of the poison and into her own mug.  “No sugar, yes?”  She asked, switching to English.  “Do you want cream?”

“Black is fine,” he said distractedly, following her lead and switching languages.  “Do you have plans for the day?  I was thinking we could have dinner together this evening.  Dilly will fix those pork chops that you like, and I thought I might pick up some chocolate covered strawberries from the shop as I come home from work.”

Taking his mug in both of her hands she walked to him, letting their fingers brush as she passed it to him.  There was no guilt in the action, just a heavy sense of nostalgia.  She had never made her distaste for their match as secret from Antonin, and he had allowed it to happen anyway.  If he had listened to her she wouldn’t have to kill him now, but he had chose convenience, and any perception of kindness he had given her since then was tainted by that fact.  She put a gentle hand to his cheek and leaned down to kiss him.  Let their interactions this morning be sweet so that if he spoke of her with his friends they wouldn’t have reason to suspect her, despite what the logical side of their brains might tell them.  “I’m going to spend some time with Alecto today, but I should be home before six.”

He nodded distractedly, taking small drinks of his coffee as he read his paper.  She sat at the far end of the table, drinking her own cup, watching him with slight apprehension as he reached the bottom of the mug.  Her grandmother’s book had said that the poison was both tasteless and undetectable, but she had to wonder.  This would work better if he was well into his work day before noticing anything amiss.  

Relief flooded her as he snapped his fingers for Dilly to take the empty mug.  It was a slow acting poison, according to the notes.  He’d start feeling ill in a few hours and be dead long before he left work.  She smiled, waving goodbye as he stood to leave for work.  “I’ll see you for dinner,” he offered as he pulled his cloak over his shoulders.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she replied, reaching out for a slice of bread.  She watched as her husband left their home for the last time, knowing he’d not come back through those doors alive.  The time for mourning would come soon.  She thought of the short black dress in the back of her wardrobe, knowing that the role of grieving widow would suite her perfectly.

This was her life, and she would make it into one that she wanted to live. And unfortunately for Antonin, his life, in the end, was incompatible with that goal.  His money, however, was not.

[theworldaccordingtolucy]

missmeda

Andromeda couldn’t look away. Lucy was her friend and this was just.. not normal any of this, it became pretty obvious when she caught a glance of herself in a mirror. That was one mystery that would take entirely to long to try and solve. She may look like her mother but that didn’t mean she couldn’t stop Lucy from waking up the next morning and having several questionable interactions to go through. She had already talked herself through her crisis. When she was this age? Would she be a mother? What kind would she be? What if she wasn’t? She needed another drink and had been on her way to get one when Lucy was in her vision. It was who Lucy was with that threw her off. Since when had Lucinda ever shown an interest in that person? Granted, Andromeda was never one to try and judge her friend's tastes look how her family judged her for Ted but she knew in her opinion Lucinda rather well and she this just didn’t seem in her character. “Oh Lucy, come have a drink with me.. I’ve been looking for you.” She beamed looping her arm around hers and nodding politely to the others who seemed smitten by the fellow Slytherin. “What in merlins name were you doing?” She asked quietly. “When were you interested in him?”

Lucinda twirled her fingers in her hair, batting her eyelashes at the male in front of her. She had known him her whole life, he was an asshole, short and never worth their time before, but now she couldn’t remember any of that, only that his eyes called to her and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She didn’t know what came over her, maybe it was the 6 shots of Fire-whiskey she had or maybe it was because she knew Amycus was here somewhere with his soon to be wife, either way, she was making decisions that were even questionable for her. She turned a bit confused when she saw the woman, she was beautiful and far better than the male who was already leaving her mind, she let her lead her away, still a bit confused. “ Andy?” She asked. “ What the hell happened to you? “ She said sounding the soberer up.  “ I was trying to do him, Ands. I don’t know, don’t you think he looks nice tonight.” She said glancing back over at him lovingly.

[purebloods-mudbloods]

—Sin duda, creo que su equipo de seguridad solo demostró lo ineficiente que era— expresó igual con una sonrisa. Sabía que Amycus había disfrutado su pequeña celebración de año nuevo, y que tenían pensamientos similares —Pero sin duda Greengrass aprendió de esos errores—

—Una pena terrible. Tanto como las medidas que no pudieron protegerla —se regodeó con una sonrisa cruel. Carente de empatía. Para Amycus, todo lo sucedido fue el verdadero año nuevo, con propósito. En cuanto a Greeengrass no esperaba resultados carentes de fuerza, sino el verdadero orden mágico.