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andromeda:
Being stuck inside of the ministry left Andromeda’s mind spinning. Something that probably wasn’t to the benefit of everyone that surrounded her, but especially for the man that gave her name up as someone who was in alliance with Aversio. When she managed to get out there was no safe place for Gilderoy to hide and it wasn’t for the personal hell that he was putting her through, but rather for the fact that he had put her daughter at risk. She was a Black after all she could hold up under any hell that was thrown at her, except for seeing her sisters. A part of her had hoped that those holding her wouldn’t be that cruel, but she knew better. Anything to have an advantage over her.
Andromeda’s thoughts weren’t with herself, but rather constantly being worried about how her daughter and husband were holding up being worried about her. She didn’t want them to be focused on her, but she knew Teddy well enough to know that he wouldn’t be. If it weren’t for Nymphadora she knew that he would have been bursting down the door and getting himself into even more trouble. She was thankful for the fact that they both agreed no matter what happened to either of them that they wouldn’t risk leaving their daughter alone. It was her only hope to keep him out of the entire situation. She didn’t need him getting himself into trouble.
Even as a teen Andromeda was in tune with where her sister was whenever she was nearby. As an adult it didn’t change apparently. Although it didn’t matter to her who was coming into the room she wasn’t going to get up or make any sign of acknowledgment until she had to. Once she heard the voice that so often soothed her during late nights when she couldn’t sleep. Now though there was something underlying it. “Bella,” Andy turned her head in order to look up at her older sister, “What do I owe this pleasure?”
Bellatrix could never remember a time, growing up, in which she hadn’t been inherently focused on both of her sisters. Andromeda and Narcissa were the world, the pinnacle of everything the woman was, the cause of every action she ever took. They had been hers long before they ever belonged to Cygnus and Druella; they were not only her sisters, but hers to keep. Perhaps seeing people as possessions than true members of society was unhealthy or even a little unhinged -- but they had been the first things in her childhood to ever show her love. Bellatrix, far too stubborn and detached from basic human emotion, would of course never acknowledge that was the root of the issue. But it was. She loved them, would do anything to protect them. They were hers, and they were hers alone. It was always meant to be that way.
So when the day had come that Andromeda walked away, it had been a white hot knife straight through the ivory rib cage into what had at the time, still been a beating heart. That was the day Bellatrix realized love was an illusion, something that was more harmful than it could ever be worth. The day she told Rodolphus she would in fact marry him was not long after, duty winning out, her desire not to be another face torn from the family tapestry taking over the desire for freedom. Her affections for Cissy had remained, the eldest of the Black sisters refusing to betray the youngest as so many others seemed so easily capable of doing. The pain she felt of Andromeda’s leave was masked behind anger, behind rage and a determination to cut all ties and move on as if nothing had happened. If Andromeda wanted to pretend she was not one of them, then so be it. Bellatrix wouldn’t convince her otherwise, when the choice to leave those that loved her had already been made.
Keeping her distance had been easy. Andy had left, decided that the love of her sister was not worth keeping. For that alone, Bellatrix had continued to live as if the traitor was nothing more than a spec of dust in her past. But she had become public knowledge, an enemy of the Ministry and the Order alike. A member of Aversio, terrorists involved in no shortage of violence; what a goddamned hypocrite, her pussy of a non-sister had become. It would no doubt be better, in the long run, to continue on as if Andromeda wasn’t being held. The Dark Lord trusted her to do what she felt best, and despite her strong desire to murder anyone that had stolen her sister away, impulsivity got the best of her. “Oh, I wouldn’t call it a pleasure.” She spoke, voice cold and harsh as she stared at the woman across from her. Once, they had been nearly like a mirror; now all Bella saw was a traitor, a stranger. Taunting remarks fell to her tongue like venom, threatening to spill over, but her temper had to be contained - for the time, at least. “And yet, here we are. Inside a building my husband and I control, full of people that believe you killed Antonin.”
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alecto:
August 17th, 1979 Location: Lestrange Manor @toujoursdevoue
Things were shifting far quicker than Alecto had anticipated them too, it felt as though they were in a game of chess with no real end in sight. With each move the Death Eaters made, Aversio was quick to retaliate. She hated to admit she admired the lengths they seemed willing to go to, as admirable as it was infuriating. She had seen it as a victory when Rodolphus took over as minister, it was a power move that left them with the upper hand. Then Aversio had gone and burnt the Prophet, taking Antonin down in the process. It wasn’t that she mourned the man, it was a mere inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. It had proved useful to find herself placed within the ministry, to keep an eye on various things that were going on at once. She could prove her use by keeping an eye on the floo network and portkeys, making it easier for the death eaters to move as they pleased. As it was, most updates came through the Ministry and to Rodolphus before the public caught wind and more often than not she found herself in the know.
The latest news was that Andromeda had been released after the investigation into her involvement with Aversio. She had been disappointed by the news, she had been close to Andromeda after spending so many years growing up together. To think that she had betrayed her own family made Alecto sick, to have joined such a worthless enemy seemed such a waste. She knew what Andromeda was capable of, she had been a Black after all, and she was wasting her talent with an enemy they would destroy when the time came. With the release of Andromeda had also come the talk of the argument that had followed between her and Rodolphus. Though she had not talked to the man about his sister in law, she was sure he shared much the same opinion about her decisions. However he was not who she was most keen to talk to after all that had happened within the last few days. Bellatrix had been a longtime friend and a woman she had looked up to, and she wondered how she was handling the latest.
Alecto had decided to make a house call to see Bellatrix, in need of good company that she could actually stand. She had been around the men of the ministry for far too long, and her annoyance had become more than evident. She thought many of them proved to be disappointing at their jobs, though it was not her place to voice such opinions. She knew she could rely on Bellatrix however, a woman who had helped Alecto climb her way through the ranks. As she arrived at Lestrange Manor she was greeted by Kreacher, who informed her that his mistress would be back soon. While she waited, she made herself comfortable in the sitting room left to only her thoughts and the sound of the crackling fire in the fireplace. Finally she heard Kreacher welcoming Bellatrix home and she rose from her seat to greet her longtime friend. “Bellatrix, you look well.” She greeted with a small nod of her head.
There was a shift in the air, and not in a way that would serve them any benefit. Power was slipping through their fingers into an abyss that continued to fill with enemies. It had been bad enough - annoying more than anything else - when the Order and Aversio were on their own playing fields. Then, it had been almost entertaining, watching the white horses and renegades go at each others throats. Until they had made a decision Bellatrix herself had never expected, joining their alliances and acting as if they were one in the same. She doubted it would last, but in the meantime, it would remain infuriatingly obnoxious. They had burned down the Prophet and killed Dolohov; now that Aversio had sided with the Order, that blood was on all of their hands. Bella hoped it was killing them, at least internally. So far as the actual act of killing them, well, that was something better suited for herself.
Perhaps they should have expected the scales to tip, however slightly, after so much victory. Overtaking the Ministry and declaring any who stood against them as terrorists had been an act Rodolphus had drawn out beautifully. It had all been going exactly as Voldemort had intended, the eldest Black at his right hand and a large influence on the acting Minister. There would always be enemies, and those that would stand against the right side purely for the fun of it; that was a lesson Cygnus and reality both instilled into her long ago. She had never expected it to come from one of her own, if Andromeda could even be called that. The abandonment of a Black, of her sister, rang loudly in her ears once again when the woman had been taken in for questioning. It was easy to pretend otherwise that Andromeda was dead, in a horrible accident that was better left not being spoken of. Yet there she was, an acting member of Aversio; as if leaving wasn’t bad enough, she had to be involved in murdering people. And she called herself better than the family she had run away from.
Putting out fires as opposed to starting them was a change that Bella didn’t like. Being surrounded by chaos and the strife that came with it was a thrill she never stopped chasing; however, in recent days, it seemed that her jobs from the Dark Lord consisted of making sure they didn’t lost traction. Tedious, certainly -- but given Cissa herself was growing anxious, it was something that Bellatrix would do without argument. All the bullshit of the war wasn’t worth her sister’s discomfort, regardless of how much annoyance and rage it surged through her. She had barely made it through the fireplace, returning from her family’s estate, when Kreacher arrived at her side. That he preferred her over Walburga was a fact that the witch would never tire of, no matter what news he brought her. At the announcement of company she rose an eyebrow, shrugging off her traveling robes and barely watching as they fell into the elf’s expectant hands. She moved across the hall into the mentioned room, nodding as she saw Alecto. “Yes, I do.” She spoke, a hint of a smirk on her features as she moved further into the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
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female awesome meme: [3/5] female antagonists ➳ bellatrix lestrange (harry potter)
bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her cousin sirius had given as he toppled backwards through the veil, and suddenly harry knew what was going to happen before it did.
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Bellatrix Lestrange + tvtropes
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rita:
Rita was beginning to get fed-up with all the happenings of the past month. To say she had had enough of the nonsense from all sides was an understatement. But like everything, Rita saw this as an opportunity. The Prophet burning down was nothing more than a test of her abilities. Would she continue to quietly stand in the shadows or take the opportunity to make a bold move? Of course, Rita already had the perfect plan spun to follow the latter path – as long as everything fell into place. She just needed a little assistance.
She had been practicing her speech all day. She had every detail of her plan memorized from front to back, and she knew exactly how she had to present it to Bellatrix to get her to take the bait. She couldn’t be getting her own hands dirty in this plan of hers, of course. She couldn’t afford that. Her record was spotless, and she intended to keep it that way.
Rita popped into Lestrange Manor completely unannounced, she had a bit of a habit just showing up in places. It was nothing strange for her, really. “Ah, that worked! Perfect!” She exclaimed as she stepped out of the fireplace and dusted herself off. “I wasn’t entirely sure if you were connected to the Floo network. I guess, now I know for future reference.” Rita gave Bellatrix a friendly smile and helped herself to a chair nearby. “Well, I have a proposition for you. How would you like to help me cause a bit more calamity for the Daily Prophet?”
The Dark Lord had entrusted her with more responsibility than most, something that Bellatrix had striven for many years before. Seventeen when she had sought him out, the Mark on her arm had become very much like a second skin. If he so much as thought of calling her with it, she could tell. It was a skill that very few had otherwise, if any. Being the right hand of the strongest wizard to date had its privileges. For now, it was calm; the kidnapping of Edgar Bones, subsequent and adequate punishment for what Aversio had done to Antonin had pleased him. More than that, it had forgiven Cygnus of any wrong-doings he had done. Not that her father had been a thought in that at all.
With responsibility came freedom. War against the infuriating do-gooders took up most of her energy, but that wasn’t all, of course not. Bellatrix remained in the Ministry, assisting her husband - or more commonly, insisting she knew what was best, and very clearly being right every time. It was easy to stay busy when she was a god, sitting atop the world with it all at her feet. Just as she had always expected to have, someday.
Rita Skeeter’s unannounced visits were annoying, but not shocking. The witch had done enough in her career and time among the Death Eaters alike for it to become common, something that was of great irritation for Bellatrix. She enjoyed her privacy, the Network set solely for Rabastan and Narcissa, Alecto and Walden on occasion. Yet it served as no surprise, the blonde inviting herself in. Annoyance was brimming, running the ever-likely risk of turning into pure anger, followed by the forced insistence that Rita get the fuck out of the manor.
But then she struck Bella’s attention, if only slightly. It was no secret, the eldest Black’s desire for all things chaotic. She was a firm believer that chaos was how one invoked change, that it was what had killed their ancestors and forged a path for a new way -- the right way, as the Dark Lord saw it. Raising an eyebrow, she took a hearty sip of scotch, waltzing over to and sinking into the plush velvet chaise she had claimed as her own. Kreacher stood in the corner, awaiting dismissal, which was offered with a wink, leaving the Lestrange alone with the other woman. “I’m listening.”
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pandora:
It seemed as if the war was kicked up to a higher degree with the death of Dolohov. It wasn’t even the Prophet that Pandora knew would provoke the outrage of the top people for the other side. Losing anyone would be a blow to their egos, something that the supposedly great Dark Lord would take far too personally. At least that was how Pandora saw it. If there was a single person that she didn’t care for even in the slightest it would be him. Anyone else though she could see some part of the person that was worth caring for. A part of them worth trying to brighten and share with the world.
Losing the Prophet though was more of a hit to her than it was to them. it was her only steady side job that she actually enjoyed, but even without the income it had become her sure fire way to see Xen on at least a somewhat regular basis. Without it now she was going to have to find other reasons in order to see him, but without a publication like the Prophet that was dangerously neutral at best if not on the side of the Death Eaters the world was probably a better place in at least the slightest.
It was obvious to anyone that it was a dangerous idea to be even remotely kind to the enemy, but it was much harder when someone was like Pandora with her warm heart. She knew that deep down in everyone, except perhaps Voldemort himself but he was the only exception when it came to the blonde. Everyone else? They deserved to have someone believe in them including the woman standing before her. She knew that everyone else would have ran away or started to threaten her the moment they knew who they were talking to. She refused to though.
“It’s a shame that people feel like they have to hide,” Pandora admitted not enjoying the fact that anyone had to live in fear. “Personally I don’t want to hide. If something is going to happen to me it’s going to happen whether I’m hidden behind wards or out in the open. I’m sure you can relate to not wanting to hide from anyone though.”
The Dark Lord had been displeased, to put it lightly, when the Prophet had burnt down. Not so much because they relied on the paper - hardly - but for what had been found inside. Antonin Dolohov being disrespected so publicly was all it took for him, cursing Rookwood and her father alike. It had been more horrifying than Bellatrix wished to admit, watching Cygnus writhe at the receiving end of a Cruciatus curse. She was an exception, one that had become well-known within her small, inner circle - to say, Rodolphus and Voldemort. The Unforgivables didn’t work on her, the pain bouncing off in manic laughter and a sense of boredom. But her father had been affected, while she stood watch and dictated when enough was enough. One benefit, she supposed, from Voldemort’s trust in her; being right hand had its privileges.
Of course there were going to be consequences, she would see to it personally. A group of rebels that called themselves the ‘right side’ had murdered somebody in cold blood -- and he wasn’t even someone of great relevance. It would have made more sense to dismember any number of the Death Eaters, other than the pussy that had been out of the country for months. They knew nothing of what they were up against, Bellatrix was set to make sure of that. Plans were being made, with Aidan, with her husband, and then those she kept to herself. All self-righteous assholes in the Order and Aversio alike would feel the wrath of going against those who knew what they were doing. Playing with fire was a sure way to get burnt, when you don’t know what you’re doing; and they had done exactly that.
Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Bellatrix made a mental note to figure out who the girl in front of her was. She was innocent, it radiated off her in nearly nauseating waves. And she was small. Whatever angle she was going for, not showing the cowardice or resentment Bella had grown so used to seeing, it wouldn’t last. Even without the use of Occulmency she was sure of that. “Oh no, I’ve never hidden from anything.” She spoke, the amusement clear in her voice. For anyone to assume a Black - well, one of importance, unlike Sirius and Andromeda - to hide from anything was a naive mistake. “I have no reason to. Charming to assume I would.” Or stupid, but Bella would play nice, for the time being.
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andromeda:
Andromeda slipped through the cracks when it came to their parents, and she knew it before any child should ever realize that neither parent cared what happened. For Cygnus his hands were full dealing with Bellatrix and trying to manipulate her into whatever piece he hoped she would become, and failing at doing just that which brought Andy a strange sense of joy, and Druella was busy dotting on Cissy to notice her middle daughter. The only saving grace that she had was her sisters that never made her feel invisible. She supposed if there was ever choice about who’s attention she would prefer between her parents and her sisters it would never be a competition. She would always choose her sisters over them, and almost anyone else. She only had one exception, and even then she wasn’t sure to this day which way she would lean towards.
Once the sisters were shoulder to shoulder sitting in the bed Andy didn’t hold back from dropping her head to her sister’s shoulder smiling at the idea of her sister breaking the hideous vase. “At least one of us did it. I was close to accidentally knocking it on the floor with my books, but I’m sure mama dearest would have actually thrown me out over it,” She admitted quietly as she picked at the blanket on Bella’s bed sighing. “Hopefully it doesn’t encourage their mother to actually just go out and buy another one for us.”
Andromeda almost couldn’t believe her sister as she burst into a quiet laughter. “Please. I would rather be anywhere that isn’t here when the incredible Lucius comes by. If I have to hear one more speech about how I would be so lucky to have a man just just him fall in love with me I might actually stab myself in the eye, Bella, I think I can only handle the speech once a week. Besides,” almost nervously her gaze flicked over to her sister, “I want to spend some time with you.”
Bellatrix had a deep hatred for their mother, and it had never been hidden. From the moment she was old enough to convey feelings, the way she despised Druella had been evident. All the woman had ever wanted of her eldest was to dress her up and marry her off, just as had been done for her. She knew it would happen someday, if for no other reason than power, not that she needed it. But she would rebel as long as possible, piss Druella off every passing day because of it. Seen as nothing but a problem by so many, it was exceedingly satisfying to see the way that her mother regarded her, seeing so much of Cygnus in her eldest that it clearly terrified her. That alone was maddeningly satisfying.
Physical affection never came easy to Bellatrix, having been treated so coldly for so long. Of course with Cissa it was different, from the moment her youngest sister was born, she had been hers. Druella would get her way with the dresses, certainly, but when it came to protecting her? That would be Bella’s job. She knew how to do it, and she did it well, for both of her sisters. Whether they liked it or not. “If our dearest mother,” she started, the resentment dripping from her voice like ice, “even dared, I would do far worse.” The Dark Lord had taught her the Unforgivables, and she was growing rather good at them. Of course, the things Bellatrix did with her free time, learning from Voldemort, were things she never disclosed to her sisters but the general idea remained. “Especially if all you did was break that fucking vase. Really, it was asking for it. How a woman related to Alecto has no taste, I’ll never know. Then again, our mother has no taste.”
“Once a week?” She cackled, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve more patience than me, Andy, though I suppose we knew that.” It was never any secret, Bellatrix and her opinions on Lucius Malfoy. Just as it was no secret why Druella kept having him over -- he was going to marry Narcissa. That was a disgusting thought, worse than the idea of Bellatrix marrying. At least Rodolphus was a decent match. “You could always hex him. I’d say curse his balls off, but we all know he never possessed those to begin with.” She spoke, the smirk appearing on her face as Andromeda finished speaking. “Don’t you worry, dearest sister, we’ll escape before he arrives. Go cause mischief somewhere not as stuffy.”
#{ dash | andromeda }#{ flashbacks | andromeda }#{ july 1972 }#{ love queue just a little too much }
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aidan:
“Why do you think I”m coming to you and not your husband?” Their words were even, though there was a hint of a bite behind it. For all the shit Aidan got for their long hair and ringed fingers and insistence of being called they and not he, Aidan had a fuck of a lot more balls than Rodolphus Lestrange would ever have. Plenty of people hailed it as the best wizarding match of their generation. And on paper it was, the Blacks and the Lestranges being brought together, if you were considering only the familial gain, it was great. But Rodolphus and Bellatrix were never going to be compatible. Anyone who knew the eldest Black girl at all could see that. Aidan never could understand how all of the Black girls had managed to make such terrible matches.
“Someone’s going to have to pay and they’re going to have to pay dearly. The article was bad enough, it painted us in a bad enough light. But when they slaughter our own and call us the monsters? Shows you what you ought to expect from their kind,” they said disdain dripping in their tone. Aidan truly preferred to play puppet master, to orchestrate action and stand back and watch the madness take hold. But this time they might have to make an exception. Especially with the Dark Lord so upset. It would earn him some always needed brownie points with Voldemort to be part of the solution. “What do you have in mind for punishment and how do you plan on going about finding who did it? Or are we just going to pick the weakest in the flock and show them just how defenseless they are? Sitting back and watching has become boring and I’m tired of it.”
“I’m well aware of your feelings on my marriage.” Bellatrix snapped impatiently, waving a hand dismissively. The last thing her very thin patience needed was to listen to Aidan Avery whine about how she had married Rodolphus when there were far more pressing things at hand. There were only so many times she could be insulted for her husband before snapping, and really, the loss of a perfectly good puppet would be tragic. Besides, the eldest Black knew with no doubt of certainty that hers was the only marriage in the family to make any sort of lasting impression. Her traitorous sister married beneath any common decency, her horrid mother sending Narcissa to a man known for little more than being a pussy. Regardless of Bella’s feelings toward her husband’s decisions at times, they were the right match, a team not made from whimsical things like love, but loyalty. And she had very little patience or time to hear anyone continue about it still, years later.
“Yes, and that’s all horrible, and must be remedied.” She shrugged, a smirk forming on her face even before Aidan had finished speaking. “They’re digging their own grave, Avery, think about it. Writing that article against us only to burn down the paper, murder one of ours. There is no way to spin that against us, not with Rod’s publicity and Skeeter being on our side. Obnoxious and tedious she may be, but given the chance for success she’ll do whatever we ask of her, she’s painfully transparent.” She shrugged. The negative light shed on the Death Eaters was the least of her worries, all things considered. It didn’t matter much one way or the other what anyone thought of their existence, they would win the war, and in doing so, would prove that the self-decreed knights of the Order and rebels of Aversio were nothing more than a glitch in their world. “Oh, it’s quite obvious who did it, isn’t it? Amelia Bones got away, and suddenly we’re yet again painted at demons. The solution seems rather easy, get her back, finish the job--- don’t tell me you didn’t think of that.” She was chiding now, but it couldn’t be helped. “I’ll take her dulled brothers if I must, bait her, kill them off. One less problem for us all.”
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call me medusa for my monstrosity is not mine to bear, but yours to fear.
a.c (via mhythology)
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August 14, 1979 Ministry of Magic @dromeda-tonks
It came as no surprise that Bellatrix had her own pawns working inside of the Ministry, those who answered directly to her instead of Rod. Of course, his henchman answered to her as well, but regardless. Loyalty may have been the result of fear and a desire to appease a demon, but whatever it was, she didn’t care. What mattered was that there were those who kept her informed of what was going on at all times -- she knew Andromeda had been taken in as a suspect before her husband could even try and breathe her name. It came as no surprise, the person Bella had once deemed a sister being part of an organization so hypocritical and violent. She had joined the watered down Death Eaters, become little more than a mimic of what the Blacks stood for. It was almost comical.
Almost. Any love Bellatrix still held for her sister was stomped down, buried underneath the raging river that was constantly red with fury. As war continued, the anger that brewed inside the eldest, the matron of the Lestrange estate, seemed to only grow. She was turning out more like Cygnus by the day, whether either she or her father would ever vocalize it. Yet another thought Bella bit back quick, not wanting to think of it for even a moment. If Andromeda was being held for questioning, she would be part of it, whether anyone liked it or not. Her power and influence all but overshadowed Rodolphus most days, but he was still acting Minister. Chances were, he hadn’t told her of Andromeda’s presence for this very reason: Bella was volatile, growing more deadly with each passing day, and with the death of Dolohov and her father’s punishment lingering close in the air that was hard to ignore.
Having received word that she was still there, that she was officially being held as the prime suspect, Bellatrix made her decision. Waving her hand dismissively of the minions who had found her lounging, feet up, in her husband’s office before standing. Her heeled boots announced her presence, commanding as ever, during the walk through the Ministry before she reached the room they had isolated Andromeda into. She wouldn’t kill her, certainly wouldn’t tell Cissy that she had seen her -- some things were better left unsaid, to protect her true sister. The guards fell away, knowing better than to argue, and she stepped inside. “Andromeda.”
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August 27, 1979 Lestrange Manor @cunningxjournalist
The tables had turned on them, in more ways than one, and certainly more than Bellatrix was okay with. Having been seated atop the world for months, with Rodolphus in the Ministry and the self-righteous Order knocked with a few pegs, it was more than just a little infuriating. Of course, as far as she was concerned - and really, not many other opinions mattered - the Death Eaters would still win the war. Antonin had died, a loss that wasn’t tragic so much as annoying, and the Prophet burnt to a crisp with him. Emma was gone, that more of a loss, but they would bring her back. Aversio was ‘violent’ yes, but too many pussies were involved with them to truly harm her. Too high profile, it would damage their already terrible image. She and her father had done their part, taken the other Bones in revenge. That was no terrible loss, Bella knew. In the end, having Edgar would draw his sister back, allow Bellatrix and Cygnus to finish the game. Little patience she had, but even she knew it was all about waiting.
The Dark Lord himself hadn’t ordered any of it, but Bellatrix was smart. She knew what she was doing, and after an explanation, he had been pleased. There were bigger problems for him to handle than what she was doing with her free time. With Rod in the Minister’s office, both men were kept busy, and Bella needed focus on her sister, on enjoying her newest toy. She returned to the estate in time to see Kreacher waiting, her usual glass of scotch resting in his hands. He wasn’t her elf, technically - but he did more for her than he ever did her aunt. She raised an eyebrow as he spoke, announcing her company. Bemused curiosity, if not also a hint of annoyance at her simply appearing spun into her thoughts as she made her way into the closest sitting room, the only one connected to the Floo network. “Rita.” She spoke, raising an eyebrow as she entered the room. “What are you doing here?”
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narcissa:
&&. @toujoursdevoue
The world was changing. It was changing faster than Narcissa would like, but changing none the less. The days of triumph they had enjoyed after the Ministry had been placed in Rodolphus hands, the St. Mungo was on it’s way to becoming what one day it had symbolized, were coming to an end. First the campaign to discredit the Death Eaters, the loss of Antonin, and now the disappearance of Emma. Narcissa hated how if even for a second they had underestimated Aversio. Because everything about these acts screamed Aversio. No one in The Order had it in them to do such things. No, this had been the work of that little group of terrorists who called themselves liberators.
Narcissa had been pacing around the parlor for hours, the emptiness of the vast space of Malfoy Manor reminded her of how alone she was. She shook her head, no, she wasn’t alone. She would never be alone as long as she had one person who loved her. And if Narcissa had learned anything it was that her sister Bellatrix loved her, and while Bella might not show it with conventional methods, there was no doubt in Narcissa’s heart that her sister cared for her.
Grabbing her traveling cloak, Narcissa headed for the chimney. There were only a couple of places connected through the Manor through the Floo Network, family, and only family. “Lestrange Manor” Narcissa said clearly, the green flames engulfing her. “Bella?” Narcissa asked once she recognized the living room, “sister?” this time her voice sounded small, like when she was a child and called for her sister to keep the monsters in her closet away. To keep her safe. But this time the monsters were real and they were Aversio.
Victory had been rushing through Bellatrix like a high for months. It was the sort she never wanted to come down from, the exhilaration of knowing that the Death Eaters were winning something she would be fine. Not entirely content - the feeling one Bella wasn’t familiar with - but satisfied nonetheless. Anything to keep the self-righteous Order from their disillusions of being heroes. Pushing Bagnold from office and Rodolphus taking her place had been a win Bellatrix was euphoric from. The Dark Lord had been thrilled, and when he was happy there was little room for concern, as long as she was concerned.
But their victory, however well deserved, had been far too short lived as Aversio tipped the scales. Aversio. A pathetic excuse of a ‘rebel stance’ who seemed so determined they were in the right. And yet their violent nature was a watered down, sorry mimic of what the Death Eaters were achieving. Bellatrix knew without even having to see the proof that they were behind the infuriating actions that had been taken against them. The Prophet being burnt down was an annoyance more than anything, particularly so when Bella had come to learn her father was inside and not responsible for the flames. Bitter as she had become from that, the rage that always seemed to be festering just beneath the surface had nearly exploded when Antonin’s dismembered body was discovered. She had never had much opinion on him, other than that he was more or less a pussy who was easily manipulated, but seeing one of their own so publicly disrespected was infuriating. Bella was furious-- until Emma Vanity had been stolen. Then she had gone from being solely pissed off to insatiable for revenge. Until the Dark Lord gave her direct orders, Bella had very little to do. Of course, stealing Edgar in return had been an eye for an eye, something she and Cygnus both saw to. Now, however, there was nothing.
The sound of someone entering the fireplace was enough to draw Bellatrix’s attention from the chambers she was in. She was nowhere near the visitor, but knew they were there. “Kreacher!” She called, waiting until the elf appeared. He wasn’t hers, rather her aunt’s, but he had always been more loyal to Bellatrix than any of the others. When he arrived, she watched with a raised eyebrow as he inspected, returning with the news of her sister’s arrival. Bella was quick after that, her heels clicking against the marbled floors of Lestrange Manor as she made her way to the living quarters. “Cissy?” She called as she entered, taking in her sister. It was no secret, Narcissa was the one thing Bellatrix truly loved, had always loved. There had been two, once, but Andromeda’s betrayal had blown her from that right long ago. Seeing the expression on her sister’s face caused Bella’s own to falter as she crossed the space between them, grasping her sister’s arms in her hands, giving her a once over to check for damage. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
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We Slytherins are brave, yes, but not stupid. For instance, given the choice, we will always choose to save our own necks.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
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cassandra:
Location: Diagon Alley, going into Knockturn Alley Date: July 25th 1979
Finally – freedom – or however she could interpret walking around feeling completely changed. The invisible chains now dominated her life and Cassandra had no idea about what she really went through. The torture and all that – a progress to establish herself further into the Death Eater ranks, or that’s what she believed. With everything turning out badly, Cassandra now had to believe the last couple of weeks had been a necessary sacrifice for the greater good. To be with him, the pain, the seclusion. With herself losing control and someone else literally taking over her mind Cassandra returned to the only place she felt safe in. Hiding her face underneath a beige hood, Cassandra crossed Diagon Alley towards the dimly lit Alley, the one everybody dreaded, the one she’d called home: Knockturn Alley leading towards Borgin & Burkes. But of course she wasn’t alone judging by the approaching footsteps. Unsure whether they’d turn out to be an ally or a foe Cassandra turned around with a neutral, just slightly frightened expression. “I’m just returning to where I’ve left off. To my shop if you don’t mind,” she bit her lip. “Collecting a few of my personal belongings to present the Ministry. I am well, and back – so naturally I’m quite busy.”
Most of the world was on edge, a cloud that hung over Britain to a point that was nearly tangible. People hid behind locked doors and charms meant to protect them, but they never worked. Fools, all of them. Bellatrix knew it wouldn’t last, it never did; the Death Eaters were gods, ruling above society as they were meant to. And while the chase was intoxicating and provided a high she would never stop trying to achieve. She was higher in ranks than just about anyone, volatile and explosive, the right hand to her master. Her husband may be in the high chair and Walden a trusted friend, but she was the one in power. And yet there were still moments in which Bella found herself alone, wandering in a state of boredom through Knockturn Alley. It was emptier here, devoid of annoying children and those who paled at the very sight of her. At least, mostly. Seeing Cassandra Burke sent her blood into a boil, the traitorous woman never ceasing to anger her. She’d gotten away too many times. “And naturally, I don’t really care.” She spoke, her voice reaching the high octave it always seemed to when taunting. “So happy to see they’ve let you out with no escort, Cassandra; it’s been so dreary without you.”
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