#enoverrant

"Is it not part of our very being, Rab? Beasts are exactly what we are; more intelligent of course, but just as predatory as the worst of them.” Pride swirls in his tone, a certain type of hubris that did not blind him like Malfoy nor did it rule him like many others of their kin. No, the Lestranges were proud and cold and brutal - and they flaunted it loud and clear for all to know and all to see. It was not their fault others chose to push them towards more feral instincts. 

“And soon, little brother, many will see what type of beast you are as well - ah! I even dare to say you’ll surpass me. Mother will be proud.” 

"Shut up, and help me find my shirt - now! Please, damn it!” 

She’s frantic, moving from the bed to the couch to the corners next to the drawer right by his side, garments flying into the air. This is what she got. A seemingly simple decision to be 'too sick’ for dinner and sneak out later at night turned into forgetting all about where she was supposed to be the moment he walked in. 

“Do you have it?” Andy glances at him, red on her face from previous exertions and slightly accusatory, if not quietly amused by his lightening mood - for the moment, at least. It was odd, to see him like this, and she knew all to well why by now. Nice, and odd. “Give it back, now!” She springs towards him, fast but not fast enough to grab the tiny delicate cloth from his grasp, hiding her scream, and her laugh, into a hushed demands. “Give it back, Rab! For Salazar’s sake, I will not let you out of this room until you give it back.”

A threat she was all too willing to keep, that he knew perfectly well - though neither of them was willing to voice why. 

“And whose life am I taking, hm?”

She arcs a dark eyebrow, eyes fixated solely on the face of the boy and the refection of the starlight playing against his warm, hazel gaze.

“What need would I have to take any life, or yours for that matter?” A single dainty finger grazes against the skin of his arm, lightly, teasingly, as she lays on top of the boy with the vaguest smirk on her face, chin resting against the firm surface of his chest. “I will tell you that I would be an excellent life taker.” 

She speaks slowly now, hand canting to her side as she ponders upon this idea, “I’d grant you every wish and every desire you may have. I’d lavish you with the most exquisite articles in this earthy world, and seek to please you in any and every way I possibly can. I’d be there for you, and only for you - that is how I’d take any life with me.”

"Excuse you, miss, I do not take kindly to that tone. Why? Don’t you think I’d look dashing in some of those dark glasses and suit? I think I could pull it off just charmingly, if you must ask.”

A smirk sneaks into his face, pulling at his collar as if to show off the statuesque features of his figure. He wants to make her laugh, truly, and perhaps forget for a moment her own question; but alas, that is like asking the sun not to shine. In all fairness, he had promised to himself not to do this - not follow her around, making sure she got from class to class or from place to place with no one touching a single golden hair of hers. Only Remus pretended not to notice when he deviated their usual path towards Transfiguration, but all he could say was that he wanted something new, something fresh. A lousy excuse of course, but he tried and failed to ignore the twist in his guts at the very memory of the past nights, or the sharp tug in his lung if he arrived a few minutes too earlier to their meeting spots and she was not there. Paranoia was a nasty companion, but for now he could only swallow it and pretend.

"I do not attempt anything, darling, I am certain you know exactly what you must do. You have proven as such by now.”

He stands from the dark velvety chair, walking around it, his hand gracing soft against the fading wooden edges. He thinks to go closer, see her from a new view, a new perspective, this creature that woke so quiet and so cold but still with something else; firm and deep lingering in the pool of those wide blue eyes. Embers of a recent past, of course, of a secret that she now shared with far too many who are too close; and for a moment he thought to feel guilt. But remorse was not worth of his mind, and time too precious to waste. All they could do, including her, is look forward. 

“I merely sought to assure you, as your future brother, and your future family, that you are on the right path. What is best for you is best for all of us, and that is to keep things just as they are. Let the past be the past, darling. There is nothing that can be changed - not anymore.”

"I am not a tease, Arthur Weasley! I am simply presenting a hypothetical case, about a hypothetical situation, to a very close friend only to hear his advice on this very hypothetical scenario - and you may stop laughing now!” 

She nudges him, not too hard and unable to stop the smile from her face. Andy would tell him, of course, her trust on the redhaired Gryffindor was unmeasurable. But how do you speak to a friend of a situation like hers? Perhaps she was scared of judgement. Of shuttering an illusion; an image of what Arty saw when he looked at her. She was scared of that look changing if she told him the reason for her vague questions and vaguer answers. 

       "Oh, Weasley - that’s the best you’ve got?”