the space between

he raised his eyes when sabrina was led into the room. she was most likely one of the few people who could walk into malfoy manor without a social hour set and no one would be upset. he was relieved that narcissa liked sabrina as much as he did. "ah, yes. here i thought it would be narcissa's estranged sister who would unsettle the room. leave it to a higher power to do it better." lucius folded the prophet and shoved it away from his attention. "theories? well, clearly the dark lord did this, didn't he? i think the minister is many things: a coward, a cheat, poor. but he doesn't ever drink heavily enough to stumble out by himself. the poor man hopefully apparated out of the country and abandoned ship. if not, i hope that the dark lord is behind it and will tell us what to do next. though i'm not holding my breath. please," he said and gestured for her to sit, snapping his fingers for his house elf to arrange a tea tray. "you came all this way to discuss conspiracies? how bored are you?"

“And the Ministry’s answer is to tell everyone to stay home and behave.” She accepted the teacup from the house-elf with a quiet word of thanks, absently stirring it despite having added nothing at all. “It feels terribly… unimaginative.” Her gaze returned to Lucius over the rim of the porcelain, a familiar glimmer of mischief softening her otherwise composed expression. “I’ve never been particularly fond of waiting for someone else to decide when life becomes interesting again.” A beat passed before the brunette’s smile widened just enough to be dangerous. “Perhaps we ought to create a little amusement of our own.”

"I... I don't want to stain your dress" she murmured, her hands may look clean, but they were bloody, tainted. She could see the non-existent droplets falling to the polished floor as they walked out of there. A part of her was relieved that it wasn't Amycus the one carrying her out, he looked just like their father and that would've made things worse.

Alecto tried to focus, but it was too hard, there were so many things happening around her. Normally these events happened in the privacy of her home and Mindy, the house elf, would help her calm down. She had trashed the living room more than once, and burnt portraits. There were no more ugly vases to break or books to rip to shreds.

"I... I need air..." she spoke, rubbing her chest with her hand, spreading the invisible blood across her exposed skin.

The cool evening air met them the moment she pushed open the doors. Only then did she slow, leading the other witch away from the entrance and toward a quieter stretch of the gardens, somewhere hidden from curious eyes and wagging tongues. "There," she said, her hand lingering for just a moment before she let it fall away, leaving her enough space to breathe without abandoning her altogether.

"Take your time," she spoke, dark eyes settling on her, searching her face with careful concern, though she herself remained outwardly composed. "I'm not going anywhere." Whether this was duty to someone she had once loved as a friend or compassion offered to a stranger in distress, Sabrina couldn't have said and perhaps the distinction no longer mattered. Whatever had happened between them at Hogwarts, she refused to let Alecto Carrow fall apart in front of an audience.

So when someone knocked on the massive doors to the Manor, Anya strode briskly to answer then herself, rather than ask an elf to do it, as was customary. She wrenched the doors open and fixed the person standing outside with an imperious stare.

“Yes?” She asked. “How can I help you?”

Still, however much other people would list her off as frivolous, Sabrina did care for her friends, hence why she'd decided to pay Anya a visit that day. It was supposed to be her night, initially but partly highjacked by the Ministry in an attempt to pretend unity existed in their society, but then completely run over by someone who cared very little about the blonde indeed.

"Hi darling," the brunette offered softly, gesturing for them both to go inside before the prying eyes of so called reporters and damned aurors would try and catch any bit of their conversation. "How are you holding up? It was an awful thing to do, you didn't deserve such a spoil to your evening."

"Hmm, if the rumours are true, I think that it will take about fifteen minutes before half of the party has had enough of it yet."

The blonde looked around before looking at her friend again. "So you arrived here alone? No one accompanying you?" She teased Sabrina, a smile playing on her lips.

where: burke manor

Alecto had just returned to her table when she found the envelope carefully hidden underneath her plate. She frowned rather confused before opening it. The piece of parchment didn't say much, but it said enough. Her first reaction was to crush the paper into her fist. The second one to reach for her glass of wine. Her hand was trembling and she downed the content in a very non-lady like way.

People started to join her at the table and her heart started beating fast. Why was that man wearing the same robes her father used to have? And that tie... her father's favorite colour.

It is obvious, isn't it, Alecto?

She needed more wine. Or any hard liquor, really. She stood up and excused herself as she walked away. Was the heat turn on? It was too hot. She couldn't breathe. She could feel all eyes on her (but where they really on her?). They knew what she had done, they saw the blood on her hands, on her outfit, even on her face... just like that night.

End it, kill them all and they will stop looking.

Do it, you know you want it, Alecto.

It would be so easy... just one spell.

She bumped into a male figure. The redhead looked up to apologize and her face paled immediately. What was he doing there? He was supposed to be dead. She killed him.

Do it again.

"I---" she couldn't even speak, so she rushed out of there. She couldn't see, everything was blurry, everything was too loud, too hot, and she couldn't breathe. Until she bumped into someone again. A woman. One that used to be her friend.

"I need to get out of here" she whispered, visibly distraughted and her green eyes filled with desperate tears. "Please..."

The brunette's expression shifted only slightly, surprise hidden beneath years of careful composure, but her gaze swept over the witch with immediate scrutiny. The trembling hands. The uneven breathing. The unmistakable look of someone running from something no one else could see. Their friendship had died a slow death years ago, leaving behind more questions than answers, but some instincts lingered despite time and distance.

Without hesitation, Sabrina stepped aside and placed a steady hand against the redhead's arm. "Then let's go." She said, and there was no demand for explanations, no interrogation despite every curious instinct screaming for answers. Those could come later. For now, she cast a brief glance around the crowded room, already searching for the quickest route away from the gathering. "Lean on me if you need to," she said quietly, her voice calm and controlled in contrast to the chaos around them. "Whatever happened, you don't need to face it here."

"These things never get less boring, do they?"

beck needed fresh air because it felt like his lungs were corroding with anxiety from the letter. it shouldn't have spiked a reaction like this as he had lived through much worse, but he didn't like being in a room full of people who might know him better than he knew himself. leaving wasn't an option as it would only bring speculation and affirm what the letter said. beck wouldn't let the person win that easily. instead, his feet stumbled until he broke through the doors to an outside balcony overlooking a courtyard. he gripped the railing and leaned forward, looking for something to ground him, something real. he was glad he placed his dark mark was hidden under his robes and with a concealing charm. but it felt like it was a brazen mark on his forehead at this moment. worse than that, beck couldn't escape the reputation his family left for him. beck had better purpose as an orphan than a son. when the door opened behind him, he glanced over his shoulder. "don't worry, i was just heading back inside. the balcony is all yours...it's not high enough in case you were wondering."

"How reassuring," she replied dryly as she stepped onto the balcony anyway. "And here I was concerned I'd have to compete for the best view." The doors closed behind her and she moved toward the railing, though not quite beside him. Close enough to acknowledge his presence but far enough to respect the distance he seemed intent on creating.

The night air did little to settle the restless energy beneath her skin. Since receiving the letter, the witch had found herself watching the room instead of participating in it. Too many distracted expressions, too many people disappearing into quiet corners and too many poorly concealed reactions from people who believed nobody was paying attention. Someone had orchestrated this and someone expected her not to notice. The thought alone was enough to keep her pulse elevated.

"You look terrible." The observation was delivered without malice. Her eyes remained fixed on the courtyard below. "I was beginning to think I was the only person having a dreadful evening, but apparently not." Only then did she glance toward him. "I assume this has something to do with a letter." A beat passed. "Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of balconies, which would admittedly be much more interesting."

Perhaps she should have expected it. Beck had always possessed a remarkable talent for saying exactly the thing she least wanted to hear while sounding perfectly reasonable as he did it. "Well, then." Her fingers smoothed an invisible crease from the sleeve of her dress, a small act of composure more than necessity. "You'll be relieved to know I wasn't keeping score." The lie came easily enough as she inclined her head, polite and distant all at once. "Please don't feel obligated on my behalf. I'd hate to think you're wasting your evening."

And before either of them could decide to say something they'd regret, she stepped aside. "Enjoy the rest of the gala, Beck."

At least their elves won't be bored tonight, he thinks, letting his mind wander to the dramatic image of them scrubbing the smell of blood-traitors out of the cracks in the floor.

Was that a bit dramatic? Sure. Truthfully, he couldn't care less about the political grand scheme of things right now, he was just agonizingly bored. And really, why bother trying anything to change the situation, when complaining about it was so much more entertaining?

"You know, most people look at these things and immediately start inventing meaning." She tilted her head slightly. "They see what they want to see. What they're afraid of seeing. What would make them sound intelligent in front of everyone else." Her eyes finally drifted toward the canvas before returning to him. "You, meanwhile, seem far more concerned with finding the correct answer."

"That's a difficult habit to break. Especially in rooms like this one." For a moment she let the observation settle between them, watching to see what he would do with it. Then, finally, her smile softened. "Though for what it's worth, I think I prefer the version of you that gets caught staring at walls and inventing birds." Her eyes flickered briefly toward the painting. "He's considerably more interesting than the one trying to give me the right answers."