#bellatrix001

When Barty was invited to the Lestrange Manor by Bellatrix, he finally felt as if he was doing something right. Barty just isn’t satisfied with how slow he’s rising within the ranks of the Death Eaters. Admittedly, he has been distracted lately. Now, he had Benjy, someone whom he’s not just trying to get close to just to gain a favor.  Someone whom he actually cared about. He also had his betrothal to Liza giving him terrible migraines for the past couple of weeks. Not that he’d give that excuse to anyone. He wouldn’t even give it to himself.

Barty’s eagerness to rise through the ranks is no longer only spurred by his desire to enact revenge on his father. Barty now has secrets to hide, People to protect. Benjy. Dirk. Even Félix, whom he was starting to befriend. The higher his position will be, the less people will question him. 

The pair often hung out, and Thea had invited her round for an evening of gossip and red wine. Thea only drank the very best wine, imported from Italy. She was currently lounging around on her chaise lounge, looking very regal, as she awaited the arrival of her good friend.

Fabian exited a darkly lit store without looking back at the witch he’d just done business with, shrouded in his cloak. He didn’t like Knockturn Alley very much, but it was useful for him. The runespoor eggs in his pocket were nearly impossible to get through Ministry channels. Not much stood in the way of Unspeakables, but runespoor eggs were technically illegal to trade. On the other hand, they might just be a key ingredient in the potion he was brewing at the moment. It made the trip into Knockturn worth it.

Though that didn’t mean he was particularly eager for anyone to see him here. While receiving a repimand from his superiors was unlikely, he had a feeling a few of his friends, maybe even his brother, wouldn’t approve of Fabian coming here. And truth be told, much of the clientele weren’t his idea of good company either. It was a bit hypocritical of him to make judgements, all things considered, but he didn’t think it’d be wise to linger here. Head down, and his hand in his pocket clutching the eggs, he moved quickly through the streets, moving to the side when others came through. 

The first times he’d come here he’d been far more nervous. Now he knew a little more about the unspoken rules of the Alley, avoiding eye contact, rarely exchanging names, long cloaks. The means to make himself invisible without ever raising his wand.

𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶, 𝙽𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙳𝙴𝙴𝙿𝙻𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝚂𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁, who had been her number one confidante growing up in their household. Bella is as much her best friend as she is her sister, and they’d grown up as each other’s protectors, the keeper of their secrets. ( Andromeda, at one point, had been a part of Narcissa’s life too. Of course, that had all gone up in smoke as soon as she’d married that Mudblood. )

And yet, she’d been avoiding dear Bella. Primarily out of guilt, but Narcissa is adamant on acting as if nothing has happened, if only to maintain some amount of normalcy in a world that is rapidly looking as if it would not. She’d reluctantly agreed on meeting at some discrete little pub in Knockturn Alley — in fact, aside from one sullen looking wizard, she is the only other patron in the shop.

Per usual, Narcissa is early, and she orders a glass of firewhiskey, if only because she assumes the pub would not stock her favorite bottle of elfen-made wine. Hearing the door swing open, Narcissa turns. “You’re late,” she jests, swirling her glass around. “You look good, Bella. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve started.” She raises the glass and gives her sister a small smile. 

@trixxia