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Where: Hog’s Head Inn | Who: Anyone

Hog’s Head Inn was the furthest thing from luxury. From its dingy decor to its ever so musky smell, the establishment wasn’t known for being a friendly place... although perhaps that was one of its charms? The meek never ventured far enough to sit in its seats, preferring Three Broomsticks to this hole in the wall. Instead of boisterous students, Hog’s Head was home to the unsavory folk. The kind that got too curse-happy once they had enough firewhiskey. Bellatrix looked to her left, her glass touching her lips. There was a pair of thieves, with their trophies displayed on their table. No one would pay them much mind while they counted their winnings. To her right, a group of wizards that kept their voices much too hush to be speaking about anything legal. Bellatrix smirked. While each man fancied himself menacing, it was an eighteen-year-old girl that was the most dangerous person in the room. 

A small breeze and a clatter of the door announced another visitor. Perhaps it was someone looking for trouble, or someone who wanted a piece of mind? Either way, Bellatrix kept her eyes on her drink. The chair next to her slide across the wooden floor and she raised an eyebrow. It was certainly a bold choice, after all, the name Bellatrix Black wasn’t synonymous with welcoming. Placing her empty glass on the table, she licked her lips. “Three Broomsticks is a couple doors over, love.” Ever so amused, she cast her eyes on the stranger, raking them up and down. 

My name isn’t Clara Just Me. It’s Stahlbaum. Clara Stahlbaum.

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forgottenandromeda:

t-edwardtonks:

Ted’s gaze remained locked on Bellatrix as she commanded him to leave, and he would have quickly obliged if Andromeda’s words hadn’t betrayed the very crushing heartbreak that echoed his own and nearly made him want to clutch at his chest. Every fiber of his being called out for him to look over toward her, to make sure she was alright, but fear of the repercussions of such an action held him rooted to the spot, especially when Bellatrix was so near. There was little he could do to help her now, no comfort he could offer her anymore. He needed to leave, the agony of drawing out the inevitable likely as painful for Andromeda as it was for himself and with little more than a final stuttered breath, Ted stepped away from Bellatrix Black to make his way back toward the castle. Every beat of his breaking heart shattered it just a little bit more, every footstep away from her making him sick with guilt for leaving her in such a state. He hadn’t even been able to say a proper goodbye. Before he could slip back through the doors of the castle, he glanced back over his shoulder, unable to help himself, just in time to see her sink to her knees. Lottie, Lizzie, Annie. His sister’s names and faces flashed through his mind one by one. Their bright smiles, the sound of their sweet laughter. The way they jumped into his arms every time he returned home and he marveled at how much taller they seemed. Oh how they annoyed him, and comforted him, and loved him in a way no one ever would. It was for their sake, his own, as well as Andromeda’s that he turned away from the sight and pulled open the old, heavy doors.

They closed behind him with a loud thud, an echo of finality ringing through the empty corridor where sounds of music and laughter drifted from the Great Hall. Ted felt a crushing weight in his chest, and yet it seemed empty at the same time. The lump forming in his throat made it difficult to swallow and he tugged at his stiff collar as if it would make a difference. He needed to compose himself, but where was he to go? The broom closet down the hall? The empty classroom just a floor above? Each and every corner of Hogwarts was colored by memories of shared moments with Andromeda. There would be no escape from this heartbreak. His father. He’d been gone for too long. No doubt Henry Tonks would be wondering where his son had been, and the last thing Ted needed in this moment was for his father to wander the school looking for him. Or worse, to find him here with watery eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, Ted managed to compose himself and made his way back to the Christmas party. Pouring three drinks with shaking hands, he somehow managed not to spill them as he made his way back to the table. His father shot him a strange look, and opened his mouth as if he might say something but Ted beat him to it. “How are my sisters, father?” He asked with a shuddering breath. Henry seemed to be confused by the question and was no doubt annoyed with Ted’s interruption. “Edward, we’ve discussed this already-“ he began in a low, warning tone but Ted cut him off. “Tell me again.” He said a bit forcefully, needing to remind himself that they were alright, and that they would be alright.

@forgottenandromeda​

She waited, clinging to her composure with a death-grip. It was all she could do to remain upright and keep from sobbing, but she wouldn’t do that to Ted. She wasn’t listening to the words he said, but she could hear his pain in his tone, and she knew if he felt even a fraction of what she did, it would be nearly unbearable. She didn’t want to be the one to add to his pain, not now. She was vaguely aware of Bella’s voice again and then footsteps - finally. Once he was gone, she could give way to the emotions but not until then. Her arms wrapped tighter about herself as she listened to the footsteps receding into the distance, taking with them the only warmth and light in her life.

When she couldn’t hear them anymore, Andromeda collapsed with a harsh sob that shook her whole body. It hurt - like the time she fell off her broom and broke her arm, with a sharp pain that wracked her whole body and made her feel sick to her stomach. She loved Ted Tonks. She would always love him. And Bella had just sent him away - they hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye. She’d known they’d be forced to part, but she had always thought they would be able to say goodbye and now … he was just gone and Andromeda was bereft.

@adbellatrix​

Some lessons, as much as they hurt, had to be learned. That was something Bellatrix knew first hand. Pain left a mark, pain could remind of consequences. When a Death Eater displeased the Dark Lord, they’d be subjected to some unspeakable cruelty. And while it seemed like a vile tactic, it stuck with that person like glue. For Ted Tonks, reminding him of what he could lose was apart of that. He’d been careless, not heading her very important warnings time and time again. Maybe he’d seen himself as invincible? A mudblood who’d gotten the attention of a pureblood woman- it was a rich fantasy that needed to be cut short. Both parties would benefit from severing contact. In Ted’s case, he wouldn’t have to attend the funeral of his sisters. Bellatrix was the type of woman who pulled through on her threats and killing a few muggles didn’t mean much to her so as long as it sent a message. For Andromeda, it meant that she wouldn’t be lost. There would be no burned portrait, no banishment from society, and most importantly, no goodbyes. Bellatrix didn’t think that she could stomach another family member becoming a ghost, nothing more than a memory. She’d promised her sisters that they’d always be together, hand in hand, heart to heart-  and she’d be damned if she didn’t keep her word.

As Ted backed away, Bellatrix tried to soothe the anger but she simply couldn’t. This situation had been too close for comfort. All she could imagine was if father had found Andromeda… Cygnus Black would’ve been volcanic, resembling the devil more than a man at the sight of it all. Bella balled her fingers into a first, letting out a shaky breath. She turned her body to face her sister, watching her collapse to the ground. “Andromeda… I…” Her heart hurt, her head throbbed. A part of Bellatrix was horrified at what she’d done now that she could see the pain all but radiating off Andromeda. Did this boy really mean so much to her? Bellatrix clenched her jaw. No matter what her feelings were telling her, her logical side new that it was for the best. Some lessons had to hurt, she repeated to herself. She would be strong for the both of them now, not changing her mind. It was for the best.

“I’ll… be inside if you need me.” The words slipped her lips, soft and gentle. There was nothing that she could do now. This was a fact that Andromeda had to face and understand. Bellatrix had always done everything for her sisters and their interests- this moment was no different. In time, Andromeda would see that to be true. Heartbreak was a painful journey and it was meant to be taken alone. Bellatrix knew this, she’d walked down that path after the engagements. As much as she wanted to reach out and embrace Andromeda, she knew that wouldn’t be welcome. Right now, Andromeda was holding her heart in her hands. A heart that Bellatrix had all but cut out. It was for the best. Someone had to make the hard decisions. And she didn’t think that her sister could remove herself from the situation to think clearly. Stepping back, she took one more look at Andromeda’s wilted body and then turned on her heel. Surely father would’ve noticed her absence, and neither of them needed him to be suspicious.

@forgottenandromeda

pomonaxsprout:

Who: Pomona & Bellatrix ( @adbellatrix ) Where: Greenhouse No. 6 When: March 2

Pomona heard the door open but she was up to her elbows in dirt and couldn’t very well leave her work at the moment. “I’m in the back! If that’s Addie, thank you but I don’t need any help at the moment.” But it was not Addie she saw approaching. It was Bellatrix Black, someone who Pomona had very few interactions with outside class. Frowning, she straightened up and began brushing dirt off her arms as she tried to think what could possibly bring Bellatrix to the greenhouses. “Is everything all right?” Her first thought was that something might have happened to Andromeda and her frown grew deeper. 

Bellatrix Black was not the type of person to forget details. One of them, during her firestorm of a conversation with Andromeda, had been about Pomona Sprout. Their Herbology professor. Though Bella got good marks in the class, it was one of those subjects that simply held no interest. Majority of their lessons included how to reap the benefits of plants for medicine and other skills that were needed if someone was to become a healer. She’d always thought of it as a filler, the type of course kids took if they couldn’t make it to the ministry. Or some other path that was exciting. Working at St. Mungo’s was one of the least attractive positions Bella could think of. There was no power there, no grandeur, no playing on the world stage. As she simmered over her thoughts, she pulled the doors open to the Greenhouse.

The earthy smell hit her senses almost immediately, making Bellatrix wrinkle her nose. Did Andromeda really spend her evenings in this dump? Surely she didn’t deserve that kind of punishment for falling behind in classes. Bellatrix took a few steps forward, scanning the greenery for Professor Sprout. Just as she was about to venture further inside, the woman’s voice called out. She couldn’t help but smirk at the mention of Addie Ivers. The poor little Hufflepuff was the Carrow’s plaything, more often than not, and a sad excuse for a witch. Professor Sprout came into sight, and Bellatrix looked her over. Stains of dirt ran up and down her arms, the telling sign of a busy Herbalogist.

  “I’m not quite sure, Professor Sprout.” Bellatrix replied, pushing back a strand of falling hair. For years now, she’d known everything that was happening with her sisters. When Andromeda was upset, what perfume Cissa used, silly little secrets. Now, her middle sister was beginning to seem like a stranger instead of family. The hysterics and hatred she’d seen not too long ago worried Bellatrix to no end. She’d already lost enough people, Andromeda would not be another name on that list. “I heard that you’ve been working with my sister. On remedial work? I hadn’t realized she’d fallen so far behind…”

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forgottenandromeda:

“My marks slipped after Mother - after January.” Andie stopped, pressing her lips together and studying her hands until she felt more in-control of her voice, and emotions. “It’s not that I don’t understand the material, but Professor Sprout didn’t think I could make it up without extra work.” None of the other professors had done that; with most of them, she only had some extra work to do on a temporary basis, and Professor Slughorn had been content for her to demonstrate that she could do the work she’d missed. Professor Sprout took a different route, and Andie was glad of it, especially now. But thinking of how little Bella knew about Andie’s schoolwork made her think about how little Bella knew of the rest of Andie’s life - the nightmares, her inability to eat, how many nights she’d sat up in bed or the common room reading. In the past, she would have never been able to think of going through this without Bella but now …

Her lips quirked a little bit at the memories as she flipped through the pages. But they were tainted now, all the happy thoughts overshadowed by the realization that no matter how much Bella said she loved Andie, she cared more about keeping the family together. It wasn’t the same as loving Andie. Love wouldn’t have made her cut Ted out of her life so completely, or threatened his family. Love wouldn’t expect her to marry someone who she couldn’t stand, someone who made her feel ill whenever she looked at him. Bella said she loved Andie and wanted to protect her, and maybe she believed it. But Andie couldn’t. “I would settle for someone who actually thought of me as a person,” she said coolly, shutting the book and setting it aside. If Joseph Mulciber actually valued her as a person, she would eat the Sorting Hat. 

Since she and Ted had been reunited and shared such a wonderful evening on Valentine’s Day, Andie wouldn’t have thought she’d be so angry at the memory of what Bella had done. But she was. She was furious. If Bella wanted to keep Andie safe, she would find a way to break the betrothal to Mulciber. As if Andie would be safer with him than with Ted. She took in a sharp breath and stood abruptly, pacing away. She wasn’t going to leave, not yet, but neither could she just sit still with all this fury in her. “Don’t say his name. Do you have any idea  how I’ve - you don’t - Don’t say his name.” She turned to face her sister, arms crossed tightly. “I know you think that you’re protecting me but you’re not. If you really think I’m safe as long as I’m expected to marry Mulciber -”

The news of extra studies came as a surprise to Bellatrix. She kept her voice quiet, eyes trained on her sister. Andromeda had always been a talented witch, she was proud of her for it. Still, such extrenuating circumstances could do anything to the brightest of students. For Bellatrix, she’d only thrown herself into research and her studies harder. Sleep deprived nights were spent in the library, asborbing whatever information she could to help the Dark Lord and secure a position with the ministry. The future demanded that she’d be in her top form, so much work was still to be done. “I see...” Bella would make sure to reach out to Professor Sprout. Maybe the woman could help her know what was going on with Andromeda. Even if all she could say was her sister was acing the supplementary material. Silence broke between the two, and Bellatrix again felt her heart strings being pulled. Damn Joseph Mulciber. Damn the engagements, Grindelwald, pureblood politics. Bellatrix was not someone who hated muggleborns simply because of their blood. Did she think she was above them? Absolutely. What made her loathe them entirely was their freedom. There were no mandated marriages for them, no rules that goverened their societal existance. For Bellatrix, choices were limited. Muggleborns flew freely while she was caged to the expectations of being a Sacred 28 woman. 

Andromeda’s voice brust through the courtyard, cutting Bellatrix’s skin. She knew that mentioning Ted would be a sore subject, but it almost surprised her how much... did her sister... did she care for him to that extent? She let a moment of quiet absorbed them, before she looked up at Andromeda. Even in the dark, she could see the shadow of anger cast on her sister’s face. 

“So what is it that you would have me do?” She asked quietly. Break the engagement... father may have been fond of Bellatrix, but betrothals were set in stone. She knew that very well. Had it not been the case, Bella would’ve been engaged to someone else ages ago. And Mulciber would be out of the picture. The reality, however, was that marriages served as alliances, crucial to the survival of a family. Each one that her father had secured was apart of a carefully formulated plan to hold the Blacks together. If Bellatrix obscured that vision at all, she was certain her father would rain hell down on her. No one got in Cygnus Black’s way and lived to tell the tale. Her future, everything that she had worked for, would be gone in a minute. Uncle Alphard had been burned off the tree for doing something as simple as giving Sirius money against her father’s wishes... she could only imagine what her reprecussions would be. Banishment, pain, never getting to see her sisters again. As much as Bellatrix controlled her own life, there were still some things that were out of her hands. That was just how the world worked... It was an ugly truth she’d learned the hard way. The engagements had broken her own heart and ruined her closest friendships. Yet if Andromeda wanted her to fall on the sword, to sacrifice her own goals and aspirations, all she needed to do was ask. Love made people selfless.

Kill Mulciber... It was something that Bellatrix knew that she could do. She’d pictured it happening a hundred times over the course of a year: Mulciber, body limp, blood pooled beside him. Although that too came with its own consequences. The Mulcibers did have a network of alliances that were useful to the Death Eaters. Far reaching families from France, money to spare. Murdering one of her own in cold blood could cause a mutiny, and give the patriarchs who already hated having a woman at the helm a good reason to rebel. They needed to be a well functioning machine if future plans were to come to frution, and Mulciber was unfortunetly apart of that. Would Andromeda ask her sister to become a murder, someone she already was? No... she didn’t think that Andromeda knew that side of her existed. Bellatrix had done everything to keep her capabilites and loyalties out of sight, and she knew how differently Andromeda and Narcissa would see her if they knew the truth. Becoming a monster in their eyes scared her to death.

Let her have Ted... It was out of the question. Bellatrix couldn’t stomach losing another family member. While her father wasn’t at Hogwarts now, his eyes still were. Nothing the three sisters did went unreported to the Black head of household. Fraternizing with Ted would burn away Andromeda, make her a social outcast. Most importantly, she wouldn’t be a Black anymore. Her father would cut out the cancerous relationship, even it was his own daughter’s doing. Maybe, though... No, Bellatrix would not let that happen. She stood up, asking the question again, full voice. “How do I make this right?” The options spun around her head. 

Paolo Sebastian & Disney “Once Upon a Dream” Spring 2018 Couture Collection

Evan Rosier was Bellatrix’s other cousin, from her mother’s side. The two shared many childhood memories, from balls to brunches. And although she did find him to be superficial at times, that didn’t change the fact that they were family. With recent events, Bella had been making her rounds to check in on members of the Black clan. Narcissa, Regulus, Andromeda. Each person had been graced with her presence. The only one that remained was Evan. Besides a familial connection, the two were bound together by the dark mark. She’d been noticing, here and there, some waves of doubt hitting the boy. That would not do... especially with the plans that were to come in the future. As Bellatrix made her way to the Slytherin table, she couldn’t help but smirk. Of course Evan would be upset about a hair potion. Vanity was a Rosier trait. “That’s positively barbaric, point out the auror to me and I’ll make sure they return the potion.” She grinned, taking a seat across from Evan. “We can’t have you walking around looking disheveled.”

where: the great hall when: march 17, 1978. 12:48 pm who: evan rosier & anyone

“This school has turned out to be a real shit show this year. A real shit show” Evan grumbled aloud to no one in particular as he took his seat. He raised an expectant eyebrow at the person across the table. This was not normal behavior for Evan - and he knew it. His normal self-medicated indifference was replaced with the sort of rage that only arose in a situation of true injustice. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong? Whatever - I’m telling you anyways. That - bloody - auror -” He began, spitting out the word ‘auror’ with the same venom his peers threw around the word 'mudblood’. “ - Went through my mail and confiscated my Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion! What the absolute fuck kind of a school environment is this where student’s things are taken without just cause? Are we in the bloody USSR or something?”

BELLATRIX LESTRANGE for @quidditchleaguenet may challenge - slyth team: favs

          with prodigious skill and no conscience.

amycxscxrrxw:

Bellatrix Black. For so long, she had been on the outskirts of his life. They were both pureblooded aristocrats whose fathers ran in the same circles, but there had always been an air of separation between the two of them. She was a member of the most prestigious family in Magical Britain, practically wizarding royalty. His family name was nothing to be ashamed of, but it was not of the likes of the Blacks. They’d gone to Hogwarts together, and had both been put into Slytherin. They’d interacted plenty, in the way students must with others who share their spaces. Still, Bellatrix had spent most of her time with her sister, or Rodolphus or Lucius. Amycus, on the other hand, spent most of his time with his sister, Dolohov or Mulciber. For so long, they had all been forced to hide the darkness that hid inside the both of them. His introduction into the Dark Lord’s Army had changed all of that. No more was Bellatrix to be on the sidelines of his attention. Now, she stood front and center, second in importance to only Alecto. 

His eyes flickered to the book in her hands, not very interested in the title. He soon looked back up, meeting her eyes, as he twirled his cigarette between his fingers. Oh, Amycus, we both know that I’m rather fond of trouble. The smirk on his face widened into a smile, and he nodded. He certainly did know that, better than most people. If there was one thing Amycus was happy to do for Bellatrix, it was following order. So, when she directed him to take a seat, he was prompt with his movement, lowering himself down to the spot next to her. Unable to help himself, he sat rather closer than was necessary. His eyes had just begun to wander, as they were susceptible to doing when in Bellatrix’s presence, when he was quickly distracted by the words coming from her mouth.

“Peter Pettigrew?” Amycus repeated, his eyebrows pulling together in a cocktail of confusion and skepticism. Amycus was sure that Bellatrix knew many things that he did not. He followed her orders for a reason, after all. But Peter Pettigrew? What could she possibly need with such a pathetic example of a Gryffindor? His eyes flickered up to hers, and he absentmindedly pulled back. “What do you need with that sniveling halfblood?” He asked, a bit of curiousity leaking into his tone.

Bellatrix’s meeting with Peter Pettigrew had been a surprise. For the longest time, he was the most unimpressive Gryffindor: weak, spineless and, in every sense of the word, an idiot. She would see him bumbling about Hogwarts, trying to keep up with his friends but always falling a few steps behind. In his other personal affairs, it was much of the same. Ludovic Bagman had been trying to hunt him down for the longest amount of time to collect a debt, which gave a good judge of character regarding Peter. Yet in their marvelous and strange world, even a piece of garbage like Pettigrew had their worth.

Amycus made himself comfortable beside her, cigarette in hand. Oddly enough, she’d grown to enjoy their little escapes. Power plays had always been her favorite games to play, ever since she was a child. Consistently,, Amycus had met her expectations. That was a rather hard thing to do. Most people would’ve fallen apart in their first lesson, but here he was. When he spoke again, Bella couldn’t help but smirk. Peter’s lackluster reputation was well known in the castle but they hadn’t seen what she had. The crystal ball, the dark mark, potential. Bellatrix pulled her wand out of its strap, whispering a privacy spell that encased the space. Recklessness was great on certain occasions, but this wasn’t one of those times. Quickly, she holstered the wand back into its proper place. She turned her body, facing Amycus as she looked him up and down.

“Snivelling he is, darling, but every chessboard has its pawns.” She said smoothly before taking a moment to pause. An explanation was needed. Bella’s fingers gently plucked the cigarette out of Amycus’s hands, taking in a deep drag. As the smoke blew out of her lips, she continued. “We all know that Peter’s fickle, he’s barely holding onto his friends, he always seems to be on the outside. We had the most interesting interaction in divination…” Bella’s tone hardened, this was business. “He saw the Dark Mark in his future. I’m unsure if it was on his arm or on one of ours. That both intrigues and concerns me.” Like a good general, it was Bella’s job to ensure the safety of his soldiers. Peter’s visions were a threat to them all if not played correctly. “One thing that I’ve learned over the years is people like Peter seek power and prestige, even if they don’t want to acknowledge that side of them. I think if we enlighten him to his options, his real nature, he could be a valuable asset. And, keeping an eye on him can keep us out of danger.” Bellatrix thought of his friendship with James and  Sirius. They both held the same goody two shoes values that would make them perfect candidates for the Order. Having someone on the inside, like Dolohov with Grindelwald, would serve them well. 

Bellatrix’s eyes moved to Amycus’s face, her free hand gently placing itself on his knee. “That’s why I need you. Not Rodolphus or Lucius or Antonin, but you.” She wasn’t entrusting anyone else with this responsibility. Jumpstarting the recruitment process was extremely important and Amycus had a set of talents that suited the situation. "You’ve yet to disappointment me and I need someone I can trust to do this important task.” Bellatrix’s voice was low.  “Push Peter to his breaking point, that way I can put him back together. In our favor.”

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zhenyaselwyn:

Zhenya had escaped the Slytherin dormitories frequently since the attack, knowing the wrath of Bella or Alecto would be impending, and she surely didn’t want to witness the storm that was heading her way; especially when she knew that they would take personal offense to the side she had revealed to be on. But ever since the attack she had a certain weariness to being on her Lord’s side, but also doubts. Ever since Antonin had revealed his true side it had affected her to consider whether she agreed with the side she truly was upon, or if it was time to shift her loyalties, similar to Ant. But as she heard footsteps near the alcove, her features hardened as she gripped her wand, readying herself for any sort of attack before she truly realised who it was. 

She watched the anger appear upon Bellatrix’s features, and she immediately lowered her wand. She knew that this would go similarly like it had with Narcissa, except that the eldest Black had a fearsome temper and unlike her youngest was one of the top leaders within Voldemort’s Death Eaters. She had heard the rumours, and when Antonin had confessed all; she had felt such regret in her actions. Whilst she had not known about the attack and had not participated at all, the moment she had heard about the deaths, she felt so conflicted about her loyalties; especially when the deaths had been such prominent figures of society that she had known since such a young age. She deserved those words. Traitor, murderer, slippery snake, Zhenya had heard it all.

But it hurt to hear them from Bella, someone she had considered like her eldest sister. “Bella, I’m so sorry; there’s just so much you don’t know right now.” She whispered, as tears began to pool towards her eyes, at the thought of how Bella had comforted her when Markus had died and for all the help she had given. And how had she paid that back? With stabbing her in the back, which resulted in her mother and aunt’s death. “I swear, I didn’t know about the attacks, he kept them all secret. If I knew, I would have done something, I would have tried to stop it.” Zhenya had so many regrets, and perhaps it was time for her to make her move. 

Bellatrix was not someone who took kindly to being double-crossed. She’d made that very clear with Antonin Dolohov, who now was bound to her with the Unbreakable Vow. If he so much as faltered an inch from his path, the ancient magic would swallow him whole. Even such a small thing as a deflected curse had landed Joseph Mulciber in turbulent waters. As she felt her anger bubbling, her face remained unreadable. Dangerous. Zhenya was not someone to be trusted, not anymore. It seemed that years of family friendship meant nothing to her. Bellatrix took a step in the girl’s direction, her eyes cold and hard. There was word traveling around the castle regarding Zhenya and Narcissa’s scuffle, and it was well deserving. Hurting a Black meant the entire family would retaliate, and revenge would be as plentiful as the stars in the sky.

“People really will say anything when they’re backed into a corner…” She muttered, taking another step to close the gap between the two. “And your words, dearest Zhenya, are worth as much as sand.” Each syllable was laced with poison. Perhaps Zhenya was telling the truth, perhaps she hadn’t known about the attacks- such things didn’t change the matter of fact, though. Every member of Grindelwald’s Army, aware of plans or not, was to blame. They’d rejoice in the death of noble matriarchs, they’d attacked her sisters in Hogsmeade, they’d escaped battle uninjured while mothers bled. Hell was to be paid, and it seemed as if the Devil herself was collecting. “We invited you to our home… we were there for you when your brother died, and this- this is how you repay that loyalty?” Bellatrix’s fingers wrapped around her wand, slowly lifting it under Zhenya’s chin. “Did you see the newspapers, what your side did to my mother?. My aunt? Ophelia Malfoy… Diedrick Lestrange...?” The list continued on, each name being someone who had shown Zhenya some form of kindness in the past. Leaning her face in, Bellatrix’s lips grazed Zhenya’s ear as she whispered, full of malice. “If you find yourself guiltless, you’re wrong. Every drop of blood is on your hands, just the same as the others.” Claiming passivity wasn’t good enough for Bellatrix.

The Selwyns were embraced by the Sacred 28 following the death of their son. It was all fact, support poured together to form a pool of allies. Malfoys, Lestranges and Blacks alike provided safety and restitution for the hurting family. And here Zhenya was, ungrateful for everything that had been given to her. Bellatrix wasn’t sure how long she’d been apart of the army, but it was something unforgivable. It was truly a shame Charlotte didn’t finish the job.

zhenyaselwyn:

WHO: Zhenya Selwyn & Anyone WHERE: Hidden Alcove WHEN: February 17th 1978, 1:21pm

Zhenya’s fists clenched briefly in anger as she sat curled up in her spot, her wounds still making it difficult for her to be able to breathe properly. She would make that bitch Charlotte pay. Whilst some may say she was hiding from her peers, she truly wanted a space to be able to think through what had happened. She hadn’t had a moment to herself since the attack, having been surrounded by the constant flurry of Aurors, curious students and the other patients. Zelda’s words hit her as she thought about the repercussions of this event. Did she have doubts about her path? Absolutely. She doubted following her Lord, especially when he hadn’t been taking care of his followers at Hogwarts at all for the past few months. She was self-preserving at nature, and if it meant of taking care of herself first — then she would. However as she heard the flurry of footsteps nearing her, she immediately gripped her wand from her holster as she began to state coldly, “If you’re looking for a place to stay, go elsewhere. This space is taken.”

As far as Bellatrix was concerned, Charlotte’s attack had been enlightening. It established who was connected to Grindelwald, and who was the Dark Lord’s enemy. Those were all people that she would blame for her mother and aunt’s death. Their blood would stain their hands, unwashable and telling of their loyalties. Among them was a surprising name: Zhenya Selwyn. Someone that Bellatrix had all but taken under her wing when Marcus died. Bellatrix had been the center of advice for the younger girl, be it about Dolohov or life in general. To think that’d she’d joined sides with Grindelwald... it was a slap to the face. As she was passing by an alcove, a voice rang out. She felt a spike of anger jolt through her veins. Turning towards Zhenya, she eyed the girl’s wand. Cute. “I suppose there’s only enough room for one traitorous bitch, isn’t there?” She spat back. It was a shame that Charlotte didn’t finish the job. Had it been Bellatrix, the aurors would’ve found bodies instead of half-conscious students.

cygnusblackthethird:

Cygnus spun the neck of the wine glass between his thumb and pointer finger, watching Bellatrix carefully. This conversation hadn’t gone at all how he had expected it to. He had brought her in for a lecture. She had shamed him, after all, as far as he was concerned. She had also apologized, and come to see the error of her ways, just as he had expected her to do so. The thing about Bellatrix was that she always did what he expected her to, often times before he even knew to think such things. It was as if she had always known what she ought to do, by only being told one time. He told her one time that he expected her to do well academically during her time at Hogwarts, and she consistently brought him O’s. He told her to look out for her sisters, and now, not a soul in the castle didn’t know of her fierce protection of them. He told her to be strong, and she became the right-hand general to one of the fiercest Dark Wizards of their time. 

Some men would find this troubling. Lesser man would balk at the idea of their daughter holding more power than them. These men would scold their daughter, order her to stop, and then ultimately, that daughter would disobey. Those lesser man would alienate her, simply because of their lack of strength. Cygnus Black was not a lesser man. Cygnus was a strong man, in all of the right ways. Cygnus understood things that most fathers didn’t, couldn’t, perhaps. The edges of his lips twisted into a smile, and he brought his glass of wine to his lips. He took a sip, delighting momentarily in the taste, thinking of the good things to come. Cygnus had not planned this new development. He had not ordered it, and he had not known about it. Of course, this did not mean that he planned to allow Bellatrix full reign. But to shun her for what was, it seemed, a strong and powerful decision that could bring their family great prosperity if done right… that was not smart. He must guide her on this journey now, and do everything he could to see the Dark Lord to victory. He had worked in the background, faintly, staying mostly focused on his personal family affairs. But it seemed that now, the Dark Lord’s victory, was certainly a personal family affair. 

He would guide her now, he decided, as he set his glass of wine back on the table. He was her father, and whether Bellatrix understood it or not, she was the future of his legacy. She would change her name one day, but she would always be his. It was not clear to Cygnus whether or not Regulus would amount to anything other than a shy, foolish follower. Sirius had been a lost cause from the earliest moments of childhood. Andromeda… she just did not share their vision, and therefore would never bring them greatness. Meekness, perhaps, but greatness never. Narcissa would bring greatness to Lucius and his name, as was expected of her, that was perfectly acceptable. But Bellatrix… she was his, and if this was done right, their names would echo forever in the halls of history.

I think that… power should be in the hands of those who know how to wield it. Triumph burst in his chest at the sound of those words. His smile widened, and he chuckled, nodding his head. “Good answer.” He brought his cigar to his mouth, placing it between his lips with a pensive look on his face. There were so many possibilities now, with this new development. This conversation truly had not gone where he had expected it to, yes, but he did not fear that. Instead, he chose to embrace it, thinking of all the different outcomes. His eyes flickered back to Bellatrix. Power should be in the hands of those who know how to wield it. “Let us put aside the theatrics, shall we?” He quipped. He pointed to her abandoned glass of wine. “Go on, drink. It is just you and I here.” He waved his own glass slightly in encouragement. He blew smoke from his mouth, and then plucked the cigar from his lips. “So, you’re the Dark Lord’s general.” All traces of amusement were gone from his voice, replaced by a point-blank bluntness. It was not unkind, but Cygnus wanted to be frank with his daughter. He played silly games all day, and while he enjoyed them thoroughly, he believed this moment called for more seriousness. 

“Do you believe you know how to wield power?” It wasn’t a trick question, meant to make her stumble or falter. He knew the answer, he would bet an entire limb on that, but he wanted to hear it from her. Because he knew the answer, he did not wait for her to say it aloud. He plowed forward, keeping a tight grip on the conversation. “Because I think that you do.” He tilted his head to the side, looking at her plainly. “I think you can do great things by the Dark Lord’s side, but let me make one thing clear.” He placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward over the table. “You will not ever make such a big decision without consulting me again. You will not. You will make a wonderful leader, but do not ever forget who taught you those skills.” He leaned back, and then brought his wine glass up for another sip. 

“We are family, Bellatrix.” His voice had lowered, now carrying a sort of soft importance, a stark contrast to his sharpness a moment prior. “You are Bellatrix Black. You are never to forget where your loyalties lie. Not ever. As your father, I can, and I will help you. But you will never be dishonest with me again, do you understand?”

Family above all. Those three words had been hammered into Bellatrix’s head from the day she was born. She could remember staring at the family tapestry, fingers tracing the names of the past. The Black line dated back to medieval times, and from humble roots came one of the most powerful wizarding families. They emerged, among Peverells and Plantagenets. Although new, two things became abundantly clear to the other nobles: Blacks were ferociously loyal to their own, sometimes to a fault, and Merlin help anyone that got in their way. Every member of the house had a potential for greatness which trickled down the line. In some cases, they shone like the constellations they were named after. In others, power deluded the mind and turned someone to madness. Whichever path her ancestors took, they were accompanied with the will to do anything for family. Bellatrix knew the stories well: how William had killed his enemies in one single blast after they’d disrespected his sister, how Arcturus nearly started a war when the Ministry tried to oppose him. Every tale held the same values: family above all. For Bellatrix, that most fundamental of lessons would always ring true.

She listened to his invitation to relax, leaning back into her chair as her fingers took hold of the wine glass. The red wine swirled in the cup, decades in the making. Only the finest bottles were used by the Blacks. So, you’re the Dark Lord’s General..She took a sip, letting the flavor melt in her mouth before looking up. “I am.” Bellatrix replied, her voice unwavering. There was no point in dancing around her accomplishments. She’d clawed her way through fire and ash to sit at the Dark Lord’s right side. Her abilities  had surpassed even seasoned duellers and at the ripe young age of eighteen, it was her tactics that had landed with deadly force. Now, all of this was coming to light for her father. Cygnus Black had jump-started her ascension to power the first time he took her to the Ministry. A small taste of it had graced her lips at six, and every year since she’d worked to achieve more than any Black prior had. Among her desire to succeed was also the pressure to live up to her father’s expectations. She’d been the faithful student, soaking up every tidbit of information he’d told her before Hogwarts. Come the school year, she’d consistently been a shining example of talent, every one of her professors had seen her excel at their subjects. Bellatrix was confident in her skill set, but ass sure of herself as she was, she still sought out her father’s approval. The opinions of others were rather meaningless unless she’d impressed her father. To hear him speak such things out loud did spark a sense of relief. But it was soured with the mistake of keeping him in the dark.

There was just no simple way to address joining the Dark Lord’s ranks. In her mind, it put them all in danger. Having ties to the Dark Lord could lead to imprisonment and a fall from grace for all Blacks. Bellatrix was willing to take that responsibility, knowing well that if she could control her situation, none of those things would come to fruition. She’d learned how to twist the strings from the Ministry’s most masterful manipulator. The less her family knew, at least her sisters, the better. That would put them in a distance in something went wrong… although Bellatrix would make sure nothing of the sort happened. It was why she took so many precautions in the missions. She would sit, analyzing every step of a plan, for possible failures. It was best to see potential mistakes and prevent them ahead of time than doing so in the moment. The Dark Lord would be her vehicle to greatness, not the thorn in her side.

While she knew this to be true, she could only assume what picture was being painted in her father’s mind. A split of loyalties between the Dark Lord and the Blacks. Never before had his heir gone behind his back nor did she make such a life-altering decision without consulting him. Her motives, at first, had been to escape the engagement to Rodolphus. However, as time went on, it became abundantly clear that the Dark Lord could provide her family with safety. And that, to Bellatrix, was of the utmost importance. It kept her grounded, it kept her present. It was something she would never forget. As she listened to her father speak, a small realization came to being. Bellatrix, for the first time perhaps in her life, had surprised Cygnus Black. Both of them had been expecting to simply talk about the Edward Bones incident, yet in a turn of events, her father finally found out who she really was. The Dark Lord’s most dangerous and skillful asset. Her accomplishment had springboarded his lecture on family. She kept her eyes trained on him, nodding in agreement. Bellatrix recognized his tone- she’d heard it before. Whenever her father had something truly important to say, the words would come out quiet. 

“Yes, family always comes first...” She replied. “It always will.” She thought of her sisters, mother and father, Regulus. Those were her shining lights. Protecting them was her sole purpose.  “Something like this won’t happen again.” Bellatrix was not one to disobey her father, or repeat mistakes. It was simply not in her nature. Setting her glass down on the table, she raised her eyebrow. “I suppose this changes things...” Revelations opened up a world of possibilities, for both of them.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black: War and Peace - 15th & 16th Century

The Blacks have always danced too close to madness