#threads;; bellatrix

[fcrox]

who: @bellatrix-lestrxnge when: evening where: the selwyn party

Family, there was nothing quite like it and nothing could ever be more important. That, and friendships. It was one of the reasons the blonde didn’t mind attending such events; the big and bright. While it may not have been a wedding, it was special all the same. Perhaps, in some ways, Leta found herself almost relieved at the idea of not having to attend weddings for at least a little while. It allowed for a small change of pace.

For a while she’d busied herself with her drink, allowed her eyes to roam and scan the crowds. Every now and then snippets of conversations would drift by, and people were dancing. It all seemed to follow the proceedings of a party. Nothing quite catching her eyes she finally spotted someone interesting. Bellatrix, a cousin whom she admired more than most. Quick strides carried her over and across the room. “I assume you’re having fun?” No doubt, if anyone would find a way to have fun in any given situation it was her.

[notdelicatc]

Whether or not it had been a bad idea to engage, the witch is determined not to let it mess with her path forward. Look given, purely by accident had gotten her into this situation and she was determined to get herself out again, very much so. "Right, and yet an invitation was extended." Her eyes are determined, despite the truth the other may speak. While she didn't worry about whether people cared, she was all too harsh on her own judgement regarding being noticed.

"I think out of respect for the people who made the list, who decided the ones on the list of guests, I fear vanishing just like that would be considered almost a tinge too rude for my liking. So, as long as I'm useful enough, I'll stay right where I am." Her eyes drift toward the other witch. For the most part Emmeline held a sort of respect for Bellatrix. Her determination was to be admired, but it only made her want to be around more.

A glance toward the crowd, back to the witch. "I can probably try my best to avoid you, though. If that is preferred." It wasn't a question, merely an offer as she began to let her eyes drift instead across the room filled with guests and floating trays among the plethora of plants. - @bxllatrix

Refusing to let the distaste show on her features, Bella's stare is blank, unyielding. She tilts her head, a question on the tip of her tongue. Swallowing it, she lets out a quiet hm of agreement. Despite Emmeline's established reputation and proximity to her brother in law, here was no amount of loyalty the half blood could pledge to excuse her sorry excuse for a bloodline. Bella watches the others movements like she would a lab newt: observant, purposeful.

Of course the witch didn’t like crowds. Who would, sticking out like a feral crup? How she was allowed to join the circle was beyond her, but Bella wasn’t in the business of questioning her Lord’s decisions, asinine as they were. Typical man to put aside your values when it serves your ego.

"You could've hid in the bathroom, I'm sure nobody would've noticed — or cared." She leans against the table, arms crossed. "Better yet, you could leave, still plenty of time."

[impcrios]

@purfanatic

where : mask-making workshop .

regulus had never been much of a crafts person, but he had always loved samhain, so he found himself here regardles, he looks over to his cousin and smirks at his shit attempts at a mask and says, "tell me, cousin, do this look threatening?" he had never been good at crafts but he did try his best.

[crucioslut]

Mon amour

Things had been so much simpler in the early days. So hopeful and strong. Their cause had more recruits than ever before and would ever see again. The prestigious meetings would always follow with lavish celebrations plentiful with food and flowing drinks and laughter. It was all so fresh and exciting, the Death Eaters truly felt as though they ruled the world at that point. They were young, beautiful, powerful and untouchable with nothing to lose and all to gain. Certainly this was the case for Bellatrix Lestrange. Voldemort would rise to power. There was no doubt about that. Within a year's time, his take over would change the wizarding world forever. Tiny goblets clanked against each other held over the grand dining table as all of the participants swallowed back their shots of firewhisky of the highest calibre, Bella's so full it dripped down her already wobbly fingers, and the sides of her mouth after she took it. The young dark witch made not so much as a grimace, stealing the bottle from the middle of the table and pouring herself another. The men who surrounded her looked to each other, amused. "Somebody's taking celebrating awfully seriously, hmm Bellatrix?" Lucius muttered, his eyes darting slowly about the room in attempts to locate Rodolphus, knowing all too well how this night would go for everybody if somebody wasn't monitoring Bellatrix's alcohol intake. Lucius' hand snapped out to still the bottle on the table. "Easy." Bellatrix paused then to give her soon-to-be brother in-law a look of disbelief then snorted, laughing. "You're joking, right?" Who did he think he was? "You don't fucking tell me what to do, Malfoy." She spat, then ripped the bottle from his grip and took a big swig straight from it, to spite him. Bella then pursed her full lips, spitting out a mouthful onto his shirt. The other death eaters roared with laughter and Bellatrix basked in it, cackling hysterically herself at the otherwise composed blonde man's reaction. Lucius was absolutely appalled by her behaviour. This was so far below them! His face bright red, he yelled out in frustration. "Rodolphus Lestrange?! Control your wife!!" @rodolphus-lestrangex

[bcrtiesjr]

and how the hell am i supposed to do that? — he thinks, as the mission is explained to them in detail. his face remains neutral, lips pressed into a thin, straight line. his mind tries to gather the most important pieces of the instructions, and he nods a couple of times to indicate he’s paying attention. or at least trying to. " easy peasy, " he murmurs, just loud enough to be heard. he needed to sound convincing, especially since he sometimes thought the dark lord could peer into his mind. he had to isolate his thoughts, keep them locked away in an invisible box just to get through the day. once he was left alone with bellatrix, barty rested his elbows on the table, fixing his gaze on her. she was intimidating. it took a great deal of effort to maintain the calm expression on his face. " it makes sense they’d pair us up for this—but i’ve no idea how we’re supposed to find that artifact in the department of mysteries, " he says, letting out a soft sigh. had voldemort never set foot in the ministry? not once in his life? lucky bastard. " maybe we should go at night. you know, it might be easier." he doesn’t feel the need to push the idea any further. " but it’s up to you, you’re the boss today. "

ft. 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ( @silverbred )

[fcrox]

A thick fog, nothing else could have described what was going on and until the other witch had lifted the spell, no clarity was given. And then only shock. Beatrice had not been prepared to snap out of a daze, having moved about on autopilot only to come face to face with someone like Bellatrix Lestrange. The Lestranges in general were on her list of those the brunette wished to avoid. Nothing good could come out of it, of that, she was sure.

Instead of eating as told all she could muster was the strength to hold the spoon; a mix of retaliating stubbornness and shock that seemed to have stripped most of the things she would see herself do from the list of things Beatrice Abbot was capable of. And then those words rung through to her, causing her to snap her head up at the witch. Only then did she notice how hard she’d been staring at the soup in front of her as though she could simply wish it all away if she only tried hard enough. Some may have called her foolish but truthfully it was a simple and pure desperation.

“I’m not with the Order.” It wasn’t a lie. No, there had only been one conversation with Alice about her wish to join. Despite that, thus far the witch hadn’t heard back from the other. Perhaps she would have to ask again. Or there was simply more to be sorted. “I’ve never been with the Order.” Her eyes moved, scanning the other. Would Bellatrix believe the truth when it was laid out right in front of her? At the end of the day Bea had no plans to voice whatever she may have known about the Order. It was easier, though, in times when lying wasn’t necessary simply because the truth itself made it easier.

Finally, as though out of sheer stubbornness did she end up allowing herself a spoon full of soup only to realize that the whole situation had ruined the taste entirely. What was the point anyway. “What do you want, exactly?” The past few minutes may have been foggy, like a layer that had come to rest on her like cotton, but she did remember the words. There’d been mentions of Edgar, someone knew was unlike to come visit.

Through it all her fiery Gryffindor demeanour came through, shining almost too bright for her own good. “I am not with the Order nor am I aware who is with the Order. If information is what you seek, I can’t help you.” Nor would she. - @bellatrix-lestrxnge

It seemed Bellatrix's spell was too strong. How thrilling. Despite her gestures for Beatrice to sit down and join her, she still busied herself with every other thing for her non-existent dinner party. Watching the other witch with a foul smirk, she leaned back in her seat, dragging her palm against the table cloth in a slow movement. Snagging a few threads with her wedding ring, she cared nothing for it and simply considered what to do with Beatrice next. Her plan was already well-formed, designed specifically to suit her urges and the functional requirements of this evening. But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy a little reckless spontaneity while moving between steps.

"Are you alright?" Falsely cloying, she placed her words heavily and disarmed Beatrice while she was at it. She caught the wand and held it up, studying the gentle magic that pulsed from wood to fingers, while Beatrice fussed over the cake. "It's not like you to be so forgetful. Tea would be lovely. Milk and three sugars, please!"

Sliding the wand into her dress, she sat back and waited patiently - though not that patiently. She did want to move things on, after all. So once Beatrice reappeared, tea in hand and cake placed down, she didn't delay any longer. Forcing Beatrice into a chair with another spell, she then locked her into place, arms flat atop the table as though pinned by heavy chains, her body unable to move from the seat. For a moment, she revelled in the surprise piercing Beatrice's expression even through the Confundus. But it was only a precursor to what would come next; a veiled realisation that would soon be unleashed with horrific fervour. She removed the Confundus, eyes flickering over her plaything's with the look of a vixen in sight of the fattest rabbit she had ever seen.

"Welcome back, Abbott." She smiled, pure wickedness sparking her features like destructive wildfire. It was an expression that betrayed pure joy. She delighted in causing alarm, her pleasure an unholy devastation. "Thank you for the soup." Gesturing, she released one of Beatrice's wrists, having no fear of the freedom - she could reach nothing but a spoon and her bowl. "Eat up. Wouldn't want it to go cold. I did have you set a place for Edgar, but I'm afraid he won't be having soup. I might let him have some cake, though. If he's a very good boy." And with that, she sat back and took a refreshing gulp of her tea, then an indulgent bite of her cake.

"How long have you been in the Order? Answer sensibly. Let's not make this unpleasant." Or more unpleasant. Bellatrix had no intention of leaving without a little indulgence. She deserved it. No one worked harder for the cause than her.

[warfollows]

WHO: Bellatrix Lestrange & Alastor Moody ( @abitmoody ) WHERE: The Ministry WHEN: Late afternoon

The hustle and bustle of working at the Ministry meant that Bellatrix often found herself summoned from level to level. A cursebreaker -- a decent cursebreaker often found themselves in high demand. In any other circumstance, being needed so much would be appealing, but in the world of the Ministry, it was simply another day. "Hold the lift!" Her voice called, moving to get down the corridor before the doors closed, sliding in as quickly as she could. "Level three, if you don't mind."

Bellatrix was unaware of who was behind her, instead focusing on opening the file in her hand. Brown hues taking in the necessary information that would guarantee her success. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as the lift began moving until the movement ceased suddenly, making her aware of her surroundings. "There's no way we're already on the right level." Eyes coming around to take in the other person in the lift.

Alastor Moody. "Bollocks."

[tvintedspvrkmoving]

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " get out. " ( hermione / bellatrix! )

unknown meme .

⸺  𝗢𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗦  𝗪𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡  𝗔𝗦  𝗔  𝗦𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗥  𝗨𝗣𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗦  𝗛𝗘𝗥  𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦  ,  eyeing  the  younger  witch  with  a  curious  glare  akin  to  a  lioness  stalking  her  prey  .  ❝  and  what  if  i  don't  ?  ❞  she  queries  ,  sharp  cackle  pulled  from  her  diaphragm  as  she  circles  the  girl  .  ❝  what  if  i  want  to  stay  and  play  a  while  ?  you  like  games  ,  don't  you  ,  mudblood  ?  you  like  to  think  you  know  everything  .  what  makes  you  think  i  don't  know  some  things  ,  too  ?  ❞  the  whole  time  she  speaks  bellatrix's  gaze  never  leaves  the  countenance  of  the  other  woman  ,  smile  never  leaves  her  face  .  ❝  are  you  afraid  ,  little  one  ?  i'm  not  going  to  hurt  you  . . .  or  am  i  ?  ❞

[despiite]

✎ @misquigley plotted starter.

Fingernails dig into the meat of Bellatrix’s palms as the world seems to unravel around them, all loose ends and fraying edges while lights flash and people in uniform swarm and flit and comb the area. The wail of sirens sets off a pounding in her skull, but she breathes, slow and deep, counts up and back down and up again to ten. She cannot afford to lose herself in the thrum of hysteria - not again, not like before. Swallowing hard, she feels the contraction of her tongue, her throat, follows it down into her belly. She is here, now, in this moment. She needs something to focus on.

Misty. Where is Misty?

She finds her in the glare of the too late ambulance, tense and shaking in that irritating little man’s arms and, judging by the look on his face, he doesn’t really understand what is happening and either takes too much pleasure in the blonde’s apparent need for comfort or overestimates his own importance therein. It rubs her the wrong way and settles like an itch beneath the skin. She doesn’t want him taking her anywhere. She doesn’t want her out of her sight.

“Here, I’ve got her.” The look she levels at him doesn’t leave much room for argument, even if his mouth does open and close as though searching for some legitimate protest, and she cuts in, pulling Misty out of his grasp by the shoulders. “Misty… Misty, look at me. We have to go. Come on. We need to leave.”

[roaringlilyevans]

&& diagon alley // outside madam pimpernelle's && @heartlessbella // spring solstice event

Lily was running late. Despite promising Marlene that she would be there on time tonight, she had gotten caught up at work and had to rush to get ready (although really, Marlene should just expect it by now. Lily was never on time unless it was for class, work, or a serious appointment). In such a rush to meet her friend where she knew Marlene would be waiting, Lily wasn't paying close enough attention to her surroundings, and she just barely missed completely bowling someone over. "Oi, sorry," she said, slightly flustered, before realizing who it had been and wishing she could take back that apology.

[silcntsinners]

‘If you behave, I’ll let your hands go and touch me’ from Bellatrix to Theodore. @reiignonme

Theodore glanced to her, nodding slowly as he knew bellatrix had always had a hold on him. Ever since Hogwarts, Theo was completely and utterly devoted to her but she had picked a path that he would never go down. The wizard had to let go of a someone he couldn’t stop loving. Now they were reunited but only because he had fallen into her trap. “Bella-“ he breathed out shakily as he would never use his magic to hurt her and escape.

“Let go, I promise - I’ll behave. You know that I could never hurt you even if I wanted to” he breathed out, his eyes falling on her body as he couldn’t help himself. It had been so long, so long since they had shared each other.

[godblooded]

alana’s movements are announced by the incongruous weight of her cane — step, step, thud — the familiarity of her arrival. shaky movements. a gloved hand wraps around the back of a chair to lower herself into it, ignoring the precarious hiss of protest in her ankles, the throbbing ache in her hips. her jaw aches like it could beat off that beautiful face, fault lines of deep burgundy across the jut of her jaw.

beneath leather, those hands are striped with pure purple, articles of flesh put back together after being torn apart. the little lion is most glad it was the last night of her torture — she’s looking forward to the relief of another few weeks before her punishment comes back around. @despiite speaks and a faint, tired smile appears on the professor’s face. ah, how expected.

“the whole ocean is right here. are you just that dramatic?

— sorry.”

her mouth accommodates molars near the back of her tongue, painfully pointed, sinking just so into divots at the bottom. these fangs will settle into scar tissue and carve an easy hole to rest in — until she does all of it over again. her jaw aches again, punctuated, hard.

“how long have i slept?”

nine hours.

turns out being a creature, a beast is taxing on the body.

[lestrangerthings]

About ~ Pinterest ~ Spotify ~ Wanted Plots

Readmore for length since whoops have the app info while I'm at it. Only content warning going toward referencing wanting to kill Rabastan in the writing sample.

In summary:

Likely one of the smartest people in the room and well aware of it. Polite enough to refrain from being cocky unless an opportunity to show off and embellish the fact with sarcasm arises.

Best described as an observer and a charmer. Rodolphus has a way of words that is pleasant but packed with a punch. Able to seem calm, collected, and understanding but prone to using words as a weapon and way of getting more information out of people than they thought they were giving away.

Work oriented to the point of burying himself in it and seldom resurfacing. Pulling him away from it had better not turn into a waste of his time or it’s all whoever he is with will hear about.

Hasn’t sworn off relationships but has yet to find someone that can match him. Old fashioned in the sense of wanting an equal partnership between him and whoever he ends up courting. Feels relationships need to be built up on trust and values emotional connection before allowing things to take a physical/romantic/sexual turn.

Family is a weakness; with his being aware of this and still not overly happy about Rabastan having managed to make him prove he'll do just about anything for him.

Rodolphus took in a stray cat. And by taking in, it was more of a case of a window getting left ajar and coming home to the creature chilling on his armchair like it had been living there its whole life.

Primarily sticks to suits and isn't prone to dramatically updating his wardrobe. I will happily accept someone's character trying to convince him to broaden his color choices from black, navy blue, and dark green.

His hair is shoulder-length and well cared for. No idea why I’m going nah give me all the muses that can pull off ponytails but he’ll likely be the one that has me going “that’s why his hair is so big - it’s full of secrets” 😅

Ooof, very excited to explore his eventually aligning with the dark side, but the muse isn't overly in a rush for that.

Birthday:

September 2, 1951. Rodolphus is a Virgo that is very in tune with his need to remain organized and take a practical approach to life. He has a strong need to stick to familial obligations and expectations, taking the responsibilities of being the firstborn son seriously. He takes a methodical approach to everything and is prone to overthinking, often leaving him quiet and carefully analyzing every interaction. He takes pride in appearing cool and collected, using sweet looks and words to get an idea of other peoples’ inner workings.

Wand:

10 inches, black walnut wood, dragon heartstring core. Rodolphus needs a new wand, having learned the hard way that black walnut is a powerful and fickle wood. Two decades of working brilliantly were shattered by his decision to throw Silas’ case to support his brother instead. His inability to be honest with Andromeda and several others about losing the case has caused the wand’s performance to decline. 

Rodolphus’ insight and being overly self-aware made the pair a notable team, with the wand proving to be a reliable partner. There was little thought of the wand’s allegiance ever slipping since he had two decades of partnership with it under his belt and was using the approach of playing to win at his job. Switching it out for something better tempered is unthinkable since it would draw too much attention. He isn’t certain how well-known the wood’s fickleness toward self-deception is and is positive it isn’t worth the risk of those close to him noticing the sudden change in wands if inevitably given a different wood type. It’s only been inconveniencing him recently, so why bother switching if things haven’t approached risking a catastrophe?

Amortentia:

The very idea of being around amortentia is laughable for Rodolphus since he has little time to focus on something as ridiculous as love. He’s been work-oriented since landing his position at the Ministry, and his parents aren’t in a rush to marry him off, so relationships haven’t been something on his mind.

If he were to get near it, the scents of old books, candle wax, and something involving Andromeda would likely come about. Rather unfortunate luck of believing it’s too late to bring those feelings up to Andromeda, though, since he’s too far gone into covering for Rabastan to even think about making a move while keeping secrets from her. It wouldn’t be worth the fallout.

Boggart:

Rodolphus’ boggart isn’t anything overly dramatic. Two things come to mind, with the protectiveness over Rabastan making it worth noting there’s likely a fear of properly losing his brother as the first. Rab in a casket or being handed a life sentence in Azkaban seems reasonable enough to be one of his biggest fears. Rodolphus wouldn’t have gone through the hoops of deliberately blowing a case if he didn’t care deeply for his younger sibling.

The other is simply recognizing that he’s likely had his life planned out since he was old enough to think about it. With the decidedly neutral stance that was encouraged by his father, it had me questioning if getting bullied into taking the dark mark before he was ready for it would be part of his fears. He’s a logical thinker, and I imagine he isn’t a fan of not feeling in control of his own life. Rodolphus recognizes that deliberately losing the case was a smart move for Rabastan but isn’t certain it had his best interests at heart. Word spreads quickly, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned into Rabastan, Bellatrix, or a combination of the two trying to rope him into further throwing cases for the sake of a cause he is still gaining information about. Or worse, believing the lapse in full judgment warrants his taking a stance with the death eaters and makes him weak-willed enough to join the ranks without a second thought. Thinking about all that leaves me acknowledging his boggart could be as simple as his reflection with the dark mark on his forearm, having given others a chance to be in control of him.

Patronus:

With an analytical mind and a persuasive way of speaking, it’s no surprise that Rodolphus’ patronus takes on the shape of a buzzard. He was rather thrown off at being able to cast a corporeal one during his school days since it was one of the spells his parents hadn’t exactly encouraged exploring upon realizing their heir was academically inclined. He would usually rely on memories of his family to cast it. The disconnect between wizard and wand has me assuming he cannot cast a patronus now. With enough insult to injury to acknowledge his happier memories of Rabastan are a bit tainted by his wand’s loyalty shifting.

Writing Sample:

“Accio ink,” Rodolphus sighed, not looking up from the case he was reading over. The request and flick of his wrist were accompanied by a clattering noise and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering from the opposite end of his flat. Ordinarily, he would have thought little of it since he had taken in a cat to have something else alive in the place. The evening proved different, though, since there was no denying that his wand had been proving to be temperamental at best recently. Nothing overly dramatic had happened yet, with the few incidents he could recall having been subtle enough for Rodolphus to begin having doubts while at work.

“For Salazar’s sake, I’ll get it myself,” The brunette muttered when the jar of ink failed to appear at his side. He added a glare at his wand before abandoning it on the armchair he had claimed, hoping to whatever higher being was listening that the cat had simply intercepted things. Luck wasn’t on his side since there were no pawprints scattered around the shattered glass and splattered ink on the marble floor.

An exasperated sigh escaped upon spotting the mess, and he snapped his fingers, not needing to breathe a word for the house elf to clean up the mess. He remained still and assessed the damage with a scowl. Things were getting worse, with more basic spells proving to work inconsistently. It was overly frustrating since it meant needing to deal with it or get a wand that would better align with himself. The feelings of guilt toward the shift hadn’t hit until realizing having acted in his brother’s best interests instead of winning what would have been a clear-cut case. Mixed feelings on the matter had to be enough to make the wand presume he was no longer worthy.

“I’m going to kill Rabastan if he doesn’t beat me to doing so himself,” Rodolphus muttered under his breath, then grabbed a new jar of ink, needing it to finish up the sentence he had left off on before being able to call it a night.

[bellatrix-lestrxnge]

Solo featuring Alecto Carrow, Andromeda Tonks, Rodolphus Lestrange, Ted Tonks @alectocarrowx @tonksxandromeda, @xrodolphusxlestrangex, @tonks-ted When: Diagon Alley NYE street party, when Nymphadora goes missing.

Too many children.

Burnished eyes scoured the surroundings, several feet above the offending, excitable youngsters. Bellatrix didn't dislike them as such, but intent upon following the narrow path towards Knockturn Alley, she found herself irked by their presence. Crowding the cobbles like a swarm of ants with stuffed toys and candyfloss, she swatted a few of them aside before her stare fell fatefully upon the little girl with unnaturally orange hair. Well, she certainly wasn't a Prewett or a Weasley. The eldest Black knew precisely who she was. Turning swiftly, her conclusion was verified by the sight of Andromeda and her beast of a husband, his hands upon her, defiling her purity with his loathsome filth. Years had passed. Oh-so many years. Yet this vision sent her rage into overdrive, her skin suddenly feeling like she wanted to rip it off. It crawled, itching, scratching as though knifes etched from the inside out, a yearning to set the world ablaze cutting deep into her bones and causing dour irises to snap wide.

For another moment, she stood, taking steadying breaths while her fists clenched and unclenched beside her hips. Her emotions enraged her. It was not correct that she should still experience upset, and so she cast that feeling aside, tossing it asunder with the determination of a witch who would stop at nothing. A different certainty filled her ravaging thoughts, her focus beelining quickly and expertly towards a far better outlet for her frustration. She turned on her heels, her rich crimson dress swishing the pavement like the world's finest dust cloth as she stalked back towards the little ones and knelt down to address the group.

Her foul temper had disappeared. There was nothing but jovial pleasantry, a bright smile and dancing eyes as she joined them in admiring the shop's contents through the window. She had flipped a switch and it was all thanks to her very own cruel intentions. As the children reacted positively, encouraging her plan, she began to spiral towards a more genuine pleasure. Perhaps she might enjoy this, after all.

"Do I?" she asked with false surprise, as Nymphadora told her she looked 'just like her mum'. Laughing widely, she stood and cast a charm into the alley to make it glow brighter. "I'm getting ice cream. Would you like some?" The girl hesitated. But a swift Confundus had her following in no time at all, Bellatrix gripping her hand as though she were a precious thing that could not possibly slip from her grasp. Right now: she couldn't. A few others joined them in the alley, redundantly summoned by the residual effect of her charm. Caring nothing for them, they wandered away while she paced towards where she'd left her husband sitting with Alecto. He was now alone, and he looked up and laughed, wondering what the fuck his wife was doing now.

After sitting the girl down, she then did indeed obtain ice cream and several other excellent treats, getting her to chat about all things Ted and Andromeda. Discovering that her parents were worried about the war and always busy and tired was mildly satisfying. To her surprise, Bellatrix discovered the girl was a little spitfire, filled with a rebellious spirit that reminded her of herself at that age. It was repulsive. If she hadn't been that mudblood's offspring, she might actually have liked her. That metamorphmagus gene sure as hell didn't come from Tonks's muggle family, and it was with that which she truly wanted to play, getting the child to replicate both her and Rodolphus's appearances until she was satisfied that she'd be able to mirror them from memory. If would be more than enough to push her darling sister's nerves over a cliff, and perhaps she'd do them all a favour and drag that bastard Auror husband with her.

It was a good thirty minutes before she returned to the main bustle in Diagon Alley, and another fifteen before she located Andromeda rushing around frantically. Sending Nymphadora on her way, she strode a retreat, congratulating herself as she joined Rodolphus once more.

Sly eyes raised through heavy lashes, meeting his and finding them equally entertained. It was hardly the brutal thrill that usually got them hot and bothered. But it would do for now. She placed a hand to his chest, lips parting as a sour chuckle trailed her teasing tongue.

"Bets on how long it'll take Andromeda to come for us?"

With any luck, not long at all. She wouldn't mind sending her sister to an early grave.

What an excellent start to the new year that would be.

[impcrios]

@silverbred

it wasn't that he didn't see aurors, there were just some that came into st. mungos more than others. what he had know of bellatrix was that she had a steady hand when it came to aurors so he was surprised that she was even here. "looks more nasty than it is," he says with a smile that he would give any patient. "i'll patch you right and get you a potion for it." he eventually says, using his wand to go over the wound, it was always a steady hand, he had worked hard for this. "let me know if it hurts." he says gently. "must have been a nasty case, i know you're a well auror, black."

[warfollows]

WHO: Bellatrix Lestrange & Regulus Black ( @inferidrowned ) WHERE: Grimmuald Place WHEN: Afternoon

The family expectations had always included keeping eyes on the younger kids, and even now, with them grown enough to keep themselves in order -- she couldn't turn it off. Did that mean she had to drop in on them without warning? Probably not... but was that going to stop her? Absolutely not. She'd show up as much as she needed to if he didn't fancy leaving his metaphorical four walls.

The pop of apparition echoed around the home, and if she had to gamble, he knew she was there, but she didn't set out looking for him. Instead, she moves with her arms full of bags into the dining area. She begins unpacking the chaos, unsure of what exactly she's got packed away. "Oi, Reg. I've come to bring you all the good snacks that the house elves made. Get your arse down here."