#hc03;alex.

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Then the door was open and the wind appeared The candles blew then disappeared The curtains flew then he appeared, saying don't be afraid .

.// don’t fear the reaper - Blue Öyster Cult.// bad company - Five Finger Death Punch.// too daze gone - Billy Squier.// children of the sea - Black Sabbath.// the sound of silence - Disturbed.// the pretender - Foo Fighters.// heathens - Twenty One Pilots.// here i go again - Whitesnake.// carry on wayward son - Kansas.// knockin' on heaven's door - Guns N' Roses.// stairway to heaven - Led Zeppelin.// enter sandman - Metallica.// nothing else matters - Metallica  ( X )

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@ctrlfxte

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What a fucking day. His boots thudded on the stone flooring as he entered the empty staffroom, heading straight for the coffee pot. Alex poured himself a black coffee, leaning back against the counter as he took a sip of the boiling liquid, scalding the tip of his tongue.

‘‘Fuck!’‘ Anger boiled over and Alex hurled the cup and its contents across the room. The cup shattered into pieces directly against the wall besides the door just as it opened. Alex exhaled roughly, looking directly at Florence before turning his back on her, leaning his hands against the countertop. He needed a fucking break. @dxadlysinnxrs​

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( making a tag drop bc i’m losing threads everywhere . i’ll use the tag from now on. why didn’t i think of this before nkjdabak. )

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‘‘I didn’t want to.’‘ His response was blunt, to the point. Alex had not expected to see her in the Great Hall, he hadn’t expected to see her ever again. A mirthless laugh bubbled in him, a rumble of his chest as it passed his lips for the briefest of moments. Alex looked at her, eyes sweeping along her form.

Fear her? Alex didn't fear Death itself. "There is very little I am afraid of, Belinda." He had conquered the greatest storms and roughest seas. He had cheated death enough times to lose count. "You are not one of those things." Losing her though. That was an entire different matter.

If he wanted to, the Dark Lord could come get Alex himself. An unspoken promise had passed between Alex and Voldemort so many years ago. His death would be at his hands and Alex had made his peace with that. One day he would face the Dark Lord again and die. But until then, Alex wanted nothing to do with the war brewing in the air.

"You're in my castle, Bells. Stay out of my way."

She wouldn't, and he damn well knew it. But Alex would be damned if he allowed it to happen on her terms. "I'll tell you the same I told Dolohov. Don't bring your shit here and we won't have a problem."

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He remembered the storm of 1970 so vividly. It had been the mother of all storms, so many men had died that night. His ship had weathered the storm bravely, despite how much damage she had taken on. That night, even Alex had felt sickened to his core with how rocky the sea had been that night. And now, right now in the present time, Alex would give anything to go back to that night rather than to remain here. 

‘‘Belinda.’‘ Alex nodded curtly, his hands moving to hook into his belt. His posture stiffened and his jaw tightened ever so slightly. After so many years, finally starting to build up somewhat of a life for himself, she just walks straight back in it, with that goddamn look on her face. ‘‘Good evening.’‘

Quite defensive though it didn’t surprise Belinda one bit. To anyone else, he might appear intimidating, strong in his stance with almost an expressionless look on his face. Though Belinda knew the man better than most. She took another step towards him with an amused smile forming on her lips. Politeness and Alex never went hand-in-hand.

 “You didn’t greet me in the Great Hall,” her voice was casual as her ocean hues found his. It wasn’t that she expected him to. It wasn’t like their relationship ended on amicable terms that gave permission to act anything other way than like this. She couldn’t hold it against him. 

There were moments after their breakup she had wondered what would have happened if she didn’t storm off and drop everything to be at sea with him. It was never a life she had saw for herself and while she never regretted staying and building a career here, there was a part of her heart that ached for not choosing Alex. 

Her gaze dropped for a moment, eyes now wandering from his upper half to his hands, noticing a lack of a ring on a particular finger. “There’s no need to fear me. I’m not here for you.” Her eyes met his once more, her smile gone.  While she couldn’t exactly tell him the whole truth, it was the only amount she could offer him. Belinda was not here to reopen old wounds and she was not here to kill him. Though she was sure the Dark Lord wouldn’t mind the murdering of another muggleborn. 

And then she offered her ex the smallest of smiles. “Stay out of my way and I’ll be out of this castle soon.” 

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He saw enough ghosts in his sleep. Alex stood there, hands hooked in his belt and stoic frown on his face. This wasn't his idea of a party. But then again, Alex's idea of a party was sat in his office, with a bottle of whiskey and a pack of twenty cigarettes, on his own. But turning down a formal invite by the ghosts would only succeed in insulting them.

"Fantastic." A sweeping gaze through the room. A ghost party didn't exactly include food and drink. "How long do you reckon we're supposed to hang around for?"

@dxadlysinnxrs @ctrlfxte @rxbins-hq

a death day party / @dxadlysinnxrs  @ctrlfxte @hcrcruxed @rxbins-hq

 Mina pulled her long grey wool sweater tight around her as the gaggle of professors decended into the castle dungeons. All received the noncorporeal invitet from the Gryffindor House ghost, Nearly Headless Nick Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington . Durmstrang has a few spirits haunting it’s halls but not at the capasity of Hogwarts.

“We’re gonna see a thousands ghosts tonight,”  Mina said as they all approched the doorway to the party. Macabre music poured over the threshold and the faint smell of decay followed. The Death Day party filled the room and ghost hung around.