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Once upon a time... It sounds like the start of a fairytale.

This is how I remember her, from the time we were young.. very young

  And then...years later. Still to some, a beautiful woman, but in her eyes you could see horror..  

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163. Though he had made some bad choices, Narcissa always loved Lucius.

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Kinnitty's story. Searching the archives.

Searching the story of Kinnitty. How I got in touch with the right person at the Ministry isn’t important. How long I had to wait until I was allowed into the archive, that’s not important either.  What is important is that they keep a lot of documents on real estate belonging or once belonging to a wizard family. I soon found out I knew one of the clerks who had been at Hogwarts in my days. Strange how people stay on to boring work for years.. Anyway, she did the searching, and I wrote down what I thought was of importance. All we want is to know the history of the house.

Kinnitty, Offaly, Ireland.   Destroyed in 1209 and was rebuilt in 1213.

Hugh the monk. In earlier days (no exact date is stated, but it is assumed to be around 1300-1305) there was an abbey close to Kinnitty. Local history tells about a monastery as well. The ghost in the courtyard is supposed to be a former monk at mentioned monastery. He is said to appear before something ‘bad happens’. His faith is not revealed, yet assumed killed on the grounds of Kinnitty in some not specifically mentioned riot around 1304. Several people were listed as former owners of the estate, not many familiar names strangely enough. No muggle owners listed, and that’s no surprise really. I was relieved when the clerk finally found documents confirming what the historians of Offaly had told Lucius and me. The name .. I think it’s better to leave it in the documents. We don’t need a name, we want the story. Family XX Of pure blood, highborn as the documents said. The Offaly historians told us about them being drawn to dark magic; of course no documents here mentioned it, not even with a word. The dark arts / dark magic were more common, more accepted in those days. I guess that is the reason for it not being mentioned.

A summary of what I could find of information about said family: They had (as the historians said) two sons. The parchment was after this sentence blank. A revealing spell on the other hand showed more writing, obviously done centuries ago: One night in October on Hallows Eve; a servant belonging to the nearby house was supposed to have lurked in the outskirts Kinnitty. Parts of his story was written down: He told of a fight, a duel between the two sons of Kinnitty’s owner. According to what is written down in old records, the servant described it as to have been loud cracks and lightening. The servant had returned to his master telling a story of a duel, without rapiers or swords, but nevertheless with a deathly outcome for one of them. The servant had also mentioned dark fog surrounding the combatants, and how he was spotted by the survivor who had sent some kind of wolf after him. (A werewolf? I am guessing now). Later on, the story tells, of misfortune to the master of this particular servant, dead livestock, fires starting randomly: At the end the nearby house was burnt to the ground. Then it is a huge gap in the story, Merlin knows why. No spell revealed more hidden writing until it continues on another parchment: It tells about the capture of the surviving son, about him being arrested accused of witchcraft. Further more the folk tale (as the local muggle sees it as) continues with describing how the surviving son was arrested accused of witchcraft. Silly creatures these muggles. The story does, as said, lack a lot of details, they were either removed or just not written down. Its said the arrested son was prosecuted and sound guilty. Sentenced to death, not by fire but by decapitation. The last piece of parchment the told about the execution. The writing was almost invisible, even after having used several spells: The son was to be beheaded, the executioner lifted his axe over the man’s head only to witness that he disappeared before the executioner’s and the spectator’s eyes. The prisoner, the one sentenced to death had obviously disapparated. According to the documents it is uncertain to where, but it was assumed he had gone back to Kinnitty.   There were so many documents, and a lot of none important mentions in between. (I believe it was from interviewing witnesses of the event/events or mainly guesses? It’s hard to tell). Magical law enforcement back then was not even close to what it is now. A lot of this I think is hearsay.. After going through at least ten more parchments with a lot of ‘yada-yada’ the clerk found one mentioning several disappearing at Kinnitty:   A number of servants (of magical blood? It didn’t say but since it is mentioned here it is likely to believe they were), working at the castle had gone missing. Enquiries had been made and rumours said they were killed when they discovered the hidden son. The owner (father of the sons) was known for his brutality, his bloodlust, especially fond of the Cruciatus Curse.   I couldn’t find any proof of the following, and it seems like no one really wanted to investigate it either: The missing servants. Rumours among the small local community of witches and wizards told: Everybody assumed the servants went missing after having revealed the presence of the son more or less living in exile within the castle. Every time someone came across him, the owner (the father) should have forced them to the area of the trap floor, cursed them and watched them fall onto the spiked floor. Whoever survived was thrown in the cell in the dungeon.. to die there by the injuries caused by the spikes. A killing curse would have been more humane.. But if you are to scare anyone from talking about certain things.. I guess actions like this can be useful. (Merlin knows I actually know this myself). Why the bloody hand print could occasionally be seen in the cell with the sand white walls.. none of the parchments mentioned it. I tried another spell, yet another without them revealing more of the story. I was left to guess.. Maybe we one day will find more journals at the house in Ireland, maybe the family itself had written something down.. I had spent hours in the archives, and I felt both tired and dirty. The story stopped with the missing servants. It didn’t mention who it was people had heard breathing in the main bedroom. I left the Ministry’s archives with two unanswered questions: The hand print and the ‘bedroom-breather’..

Some of this is from the actual story of Kinnitty, other things here from random ghost stories, a bit rewritten.

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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. Molly’s curse soared beneath Bellatrix’s outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix’s gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: for the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

J.K.Rowling (via nobilis-et-antiquissima-black)

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You are not forgotten. ~ A visit to the graveyard, 2. May.

I left the manor early, before my dear husband even woke up. Today I need him more than ever, yet I have to do this alone. I hate to apparate, still I did it today: From the manor in Wiltshire to a graveyard..   Many times I have been here. During the first visits after the war I sometimes cried. I have stopped crying I, but I will never stop mourning the dead, I will never stop thinking of the ones that should have been alive today. I never told my sister Andromeda about these trips to the graveyard. I find it too difficult. But today my first stop was at a gravestone with following inscription: Nymphadora Tonks Lupin b: 3. April 1973 – d: 2. May 1998. Remus John Lupin b:  10 March 1960 – d: 2. May 1998. This was maybe the hardest one..little Teddy losing his parents as such a young age. Not that Dromeda wasn’t the perfect grandmother.. she was in every way possible the best thing that could ever have happened to little Teddy. With a quick look over my shoulder, making sure I wasn’t observed by anyone, I flicked my wand conjuring a wreath of white flowers. I thought to myself as lowering the flower wreath down in front of the gravestone: Love conquers all..  sadly that had not been the case here.. ‘He’ had been too powerful..Bella too keen to please, blinded by bloodlust and maybe also embarrassed by the Dark Lords mocking of our family?... My very own sister had killed our niece in cold blood. What had become of my family at the end of the war? I was glad mother and father had not been alive to witness it; the downfall of the Black’s. I was the only one left..along with Teddy and Draco, that carried the bloodline of the once so noble and ancient house of Black. I wasn’t here to dwell..I moved myself further along the narrow paths of the graveyard, far away from where ‘Dora’ and Remus were put to rest. The sun was shining on the next gravestone I stopped in front of. I believe he was her sunshine: Edward (Ted) Tonks; the day and year of his birth was difficult to see in the rays of sunshine, but I knew he had been only a year or two older than Dromeda. His day of death..it didn’t show only the year: 1998.  I had really no business being here; still I took upon myself to conjure a bouquet of purple Hyacinths. This particular flower has a meaning: Forgive me. Ted had been dead long before the final battle.. still I saw him as a victim of the fight. At least a victim of our war. I had acknowledged him, even if he was a muggleborn..but not at once, not before I started to have doubts myself. He had been my sister’s husband; a part of my family.   I am not ���playing martyr’ in any way, but someone had to apologise on behalf of others. I always wished my sister Dromeda happiness.. and her loved one(s) were taken from her. Signing over our old family home in Oxfordshire to Teddy.. it was a poor consolation, still it had been the only right thing to do. I moved away from the sunshine, from the grave of my brother in-law. Slowly I walked into the shadows, to a place the sun yet didn’t reach between the tiny spring leaves on the trees. The gravestone was made of black marble, the inscription in silver: Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Bella had been born in May 1951. She had been my ‘guardian angel’ during my first years at Hogwarts, and at home. For the third time I flicked my wand: what more appropriate than blood red roses? ‘You may have been both crazy and blinded by hatred, Bella dearest’ I whispered and lowered the flowers to rest against the gravestone, ‘but you were still my sister’.   I wonder whether Rodolphus visits this grave? I wonder … Last year at this day being here doing what I did just now, I thought I would never forgive Molly Weasley.. I still can’t forgive her. I can’t forgive Bella for killing our niece either.. Like so many times before, I am ‘Cissy caught in the middle'; ambivalent when it comes to my emotions. I backed away ..away from the black marble gravestone, from the shadows of the trees, back into the sunshine. 2nd May..will forever be a strange and sad day in our world. Both sides suffered loss, loss of loved ones, fear, despair and sorrow.

I will not defend anyone or place guilt, we all did what we thought was right. We were all victims of war, no matter how invisible our scars might be. I don’t know if I am capable of speaking to Draco today, I think he should be left alone with his family. Still I will send him and Astoria an ‘owl’, just a note and maybe some of his favourite sweets? Maybe.. he too has too many disturbing memories from this day, I believe she (Astoria) is the only person aside from his lovely son Scorpuis, he will like to be with today. I know him to be a lot like me when it comes to matters like this. He knows he will always have his mothers love and support. Disapparating from the graveyard, returning to my..to our home in Wiltshire; to my safe haven, to my loved one: The only one I never lost faith in, the only one I don’t have to explain my emotions to. Home to my soul-mate; he which side I never left, never abandoned to ‘save myself’, never stopped believing in, the only one I have ever loved unconditionally: my husband.      

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T H E B L A C K S I S T E R S

Bellatrix: A woman with thick, shining dark hair, long eyelashes and heavily hooded eyes… was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne. Andromeda:  As she moved forward into the room, her resemblance to her sister Bellatrix became much less pronounced: Her hair was a light, soft brown and her eyes were much wider, and kinder. Narcissa: She was so pale that she seemed to shine in the darkness; the long blonde hair streaming down her back gave her the look of a drowned person.

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Is the bloody hand situation happening at the manor or somewhere else?

(ooc) In our second home in Ireland. 

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Downpipe detail. 

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Disturbed house elves..

So, while I had been searching the Town Hall my dear husband had sent one of our servants down to the dungeon.  It had obviously encountered something, because from what Lucius told me and what I could hear when I returned; the house elf was hysterical.  It's not the first time we have had mentally disturbed servants.. but regarding the picture I had found I thought I should hear what it had to say.  Finally I found the babbling servant.  A simple question I asked it 'What happened in the dungeon'?  Shaking head, that's the reply I got.  Once more I asked, more firmly this time. 

In between sharply drawn breaths I got the story: It had done what it was told, to go down to the dungeon and to the room with the sand white walls.  The walls had not been white, the print had been there and since the servants are instructed to keep the house clean it had touched it to see if it could remove the blood stain.  Bloody hands.. that's what the house elf repeated over and over.  I gave up, from what I could understand from its babbling, it had gotten blood on its own hands when touching the wall.  I am very confused at the moment.  I had for a while now imagined the picture of the blood stained hand print to be just a picture from a dungeon cell..  What the house elf told me was far-fetched.  Anyway I, on my way back to Lucius, took a detour down to the room.. Nothing only the sand white walls and the chains.  Either the house elf is disillusioned or..  time will show I guess. 

Stranger things has been known to happen. 

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Searching the story of Kinnitty.

To gain access to the archives, that wasn’t hard at all. A polite approach is sometimes all it takes. And I fell into my role, like I had done so often when I was younger. I played a game. I liked to play games. To make people observe me and think they know who they are dealing with. I made up a story about being interested in architecture. It’s almost pathetic how easy it was.  I had one hour. Or to be correct: I was given an hour to search through the archives. Kinnitty.. once destroyed in 1209, later rebuilt by Normans in 1213. This we already know. So far no luck in finding sketches or floor plans.   More history..no matter how interesting it is it gave me no answers to my questions.  Offlay County had a different name back then; Kings County it was called for some reason. I searched quickly through the pile of papers in front of me, hoping to find exactly what I was looking for. So far, half way through, no luck. In 1811 a person named Lady Catherine Hutchinson  commissioned an architect James Pain (obviously a muggle) to extend the castle in a gothic style to its present size. This I found interesting. The period was a time they normally had and used dungeons. I draw the conclusion this architect had designed the dungeon under Kinnitty, or maybe restored it? I found nothing to confirm it. The house had, according to the records, changed owners a number of times. It had been burned down once in 1922, then rebuilt. Wings had been torn down and new added to the original building. No wonder it had so many strange hallways and passages. Both Lucius and I have seen the ghosts. It came as no surprise when I found an article from a muggle newspaper mentioning ghost hunting in the building. Stupid muggles, you don’t hunt ghosts; you leave them in peace. At least until they get troublesome, then you may act. All old houses have ghosts. To me or to us, they are a part of our everyday life.. we even manage to ignore their shenanigans.   The bloody hand print – something tells me it has something to do with one of the ghosts. I never paid much attention to them, but maybe if I ask I will get an answer? I haven’t spoken to a ghost since.. Gods, not since the manor was cleansed after the second war.. too many was left there thanks to the Dark Menace’s killing spree..in our home. I was tempted to draw my wand, to cast a spell to see if any of the old documents contained more than what I could see with the naked eye. I didn’t dare to, not in the presence of muggles.

To them we are seen as the new ‘Lord and Lady’ of Kinnitty, eccentric and very private. Oh yes, I have heard the gossip. Let them believe whatever they are comfortable with. Somehow it gives a bit of discomfort having this house not hidden from muggles, but on the other hand. If we had attempted to do such, we would have drawn far too much attention to it. Kinnitty has been there for centuries.. Therefore they will be allowed to see us as this. Don’t stir up the peace unless you have to.

I did just when I was about to leave, find floor plans, but they are of newer date.  We will have to dig deeper..if we are bothered at all. Time will show. 

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Environment design of an abandoned room in the Malfoy Manor where Dobby would sleep.

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young rabastan, barty crouch jr, bellatrix and rodolphus

i have missed my lestrange bros lool also I just saw Thor the other day and they are kind of like Thor and Loki except they are both evil 

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Were you born a blonde or with dark hair like your sisters?

What are you insinuating? Of course I was born a blonde.  

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(ooc) Respect.

I have been here for some years now. I never speak much out of character; it’s just not my style. 

But there are times even I bite my tongue a bit too much and can’t keep quiet any more. As of late I have seen too much of one thing in particular: People making themselves judge and jury. Hiding behind the phrase ‘freedom of speech’ they spit out their judgement. To say what’s on your mind is fine, just don’t judge others. You have no right to. It takes only one person to hurt you, to make you feel less ‘talented’, not good enough etcetera.   But should we allow this person to gain such power over us? I say no, loud and clear. Never forget: Behind each and every role play character there is a human being. We are all here to have fun, to explore our characters, to write SL’s or just improvise.   RP should be fun, an escape form RL not a competition. 

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It is meant to last a lifetime.. Diary entry, Kinnitty Ireland.

Being alone in a big house, it can trigger anyone’s imagination. It can bring back memories..  In my case not so good ones. Whenever Lucius had left me something had happened, or he was gone for ages. I don’t think of trips to sort out his business.. What comes to mind is the depressing time I had to deal with everything on my own. The time my dear husband was taken from me.. Azkaban. The name itself gave me the creeps. The thought of the break-ins at the manor came to mind. Not that I am easily scared.. but it sure is extremely uncomfortable to know someone is watching you.. No, don’t think such thoughts, I told myself and got quite surprised that I had spoken the words out loud. Resting in a bath tub filled with hot water , reading a book..That should chase away discomfort.   One day.. two days he had been gone. What on earth was he up to, my dear husband? I guess if its worth mentioning he will tell me.. I remember a time when we shared everything, well almost. He had a way of being overprotective, trying to hide the horrid truth form me. I knew what went on both in the first and second war. I knew too well, still I never asked too much. Knowledge was enough for me. I also remember a time when we shared almost nothing.. a time of despair and uncertainty. And then now..how I love life at the moment; we talk, we share, we laugh..  But.. no matter what happened, no matter what he did or had to do: I never stopped loving him. Not in my wildest dreams I would even consider leaving him. But there was a time I feared he was going to leave me.  I can't recall his exact words but they were something like this: You are better off without me.  These words scared me more than anything. Thankfully he never did..  I have been angry with him..oh Merlin I have been so angry with him at times, but I never hated him, I never used his actions against him. To me..to Draco he was different. A bit strict when it came to Draco, but still I could always see the man I once fell in love with. Even when he returned from Azkaban.. They took his pride, his self-esteem, his beliefs, his power.. No, that’s not entirely correct; if you are a Malfoy (or a Black) you will always have some kind of power left. It broke my heart to see my husband in such a state of mind, and I hated from that second the man responsible for it; our ‘great’ Dark Lord. Family comes first!  No matter what happens, I will forever love my Lucius. Love is, and will forever be, the most powerful form of magic.