#mctherdearest

SIRIUS   WAKES   WITH   A   START,   AND   IT   ONLY   MAKES   HIS   HEAD   POUND   WORSE.         the   light   from   his   mother’s   wand,   hovering   over   his   face   in   the   darkness,   makes   him   shut   his   eyes   immediately   once   again.      he   looks   around,   head   lolling   and   still   a   little   dizzy.      he’s   forgotten   to   clean   up   the   liquor   bottles   .   .   .      there’s   no   way   she   doesn’t   know   what   this   is   about      —      why   he   is   sleeping   in   the   parlor,   passed   out   on   the   chaise   lounge.      he   anticipates   nothing   but   the   worst      —      but   what   else   is   new?   

she turns, sharp         towards the girl who has just spoken. she flinched, true, when a flash of blue came out of their professor’s wand. but it is not fear; surprise only, at the novelty and the heat. “ i’m not scared ” she retorts, shooting down the student with her eyes.

TELL ME ABT URSELF 💖

@mctherdearest​ said : ❛   you  betrayed  me .  ❜

“I didn’t.” Andromeda’s voice is strained as she looks at her aunt. Her resolve had been so strong when she’d gotten into the argument with Druella, she’d felt a rush of satisfaction when she’d burned her own face off the family tapestry. Good, she’d thought. I don’t belong here. And she’d left. 

She’d left in a rush that day, but she’s back now, when she knows that her parents and sisters aren’t home. Grimmauld Place feels less daunting now, like less of a prison and more of a ghost. She’d packed her things from her room, and when she’d turned to leave, Walburga was there. She puts her suitcase down.

"what do you propose we should do?" he doesn't answer, at least not in words. orion simply walks toward and sits beside walburga, adjusting his position on the settee a few times to feel more comfortable. part of him wonders if this is, perhaps, improper, seeing as they aren't married just yet. but the wedding is right around the corner, and he can't really think of a reason to protest the invitation. sooner rather than later, they will have to spend more and more time alone with each other, and he's not opposed to growing accustomed to her presence.

it's not bad, really. quite the opposite, in fact. orion thinks she's better company than he is, much more interesting and insightful. he likes listening to her talk, likes knowing what she thinks. and even if he still dreams of a sharp, dark-haired boy from time to time, as far as arranged marriages goes, he considers theirs to be fortunate. "anything on your mind, wal? you look..." orion asks, tilting his head to look at her fiancé squarely and gesturing at his own face. "— like you have a lot of things running through your head. care to tell me all about them?"