Too many children.

Burnished eyes scoured the surroundings, several feet above the offending, excitable youngsters. Bellatrix didn't dislike them as such, but intent upon following the narrow path towards Knockturn Alley, she found herself irked by their presence. Crowding the cobbles like a swarm of ants with stuffed toys and candyfloss, she swatted a few of them aside before her stare fell fatefully upon the little girl with unnaturally orange hair. Well, she certainly wasn't a Prewett or a Weasley. The eldest Black knew precisely who she was. Turning swiftly, her conclusion was verified by the sight of Andromeda and her beast of a husband, his hands upon her, defiling her purity with his loathsome filth. Years had passed. Oh-so many years. Yet this vision sent her rage into overdrive, her skin suddenly feeling like she wanted to rip it off. It crawled, itching, scratching as though knifes etched from the inside out, a yearning to set the world ablaze cutting deep into her bones and causing dour irises to snap wide.

For another moment, she stood, taking steadying breaths while her fists clenched and unclenched beside her hips. Her emotions enraged her. It was not correct that she should still experience upset, and so she cast that feeling aside, tossing it asunder with the determination of a witch who would stop at nothing. A different certainty filled her ravaging thoughts, her focus beelining quickly and expertly towards a far better outlet for her frustration. She turned on her heels, her rich crimson dress swishing the pavement like the world's finest dust cloth as she stalked back towards the little ones and knelt down to address the group.

Her foul temper had disappeared. There was nothing but jovial pleasantry, a bright smile and dancing eyes as she joined them in admiring the shop's contents through the window. She had flipped a switch and it was all thanks to her very own cruel intentions. As the children reacted positively, encouraging her plan, she began to spiral towards a more genuine pleasure. Perhaps she might enjoy this, after all.

"Do I?" she asked with false surprise, as Nymphadora told her she looked 'just like her mum'. Laughing widely, she stood and cast a charm into the alley to make it glow brighter. "I'm getting ice cream. Would you like some?" The girl hesitated. But a swift Confundus had her following in no time at all, Bellatrix gripping her hand as though she were a precious thing that could not possibly slip from her grasp. Right now: she couldn't. A few others joined them in the alley, redundantly summoned by the residual effect of her charm. Caring nothing for them, they wandered away while she paced towards where she'd left her husband sitting with Alecto. He was now alone, and he looked up and laughed, wondering what the fuck his wife was doing now.

After sitting the girl down, she then did indeed obtain ice cream and several other excellent treats, getting her to chat about all things Ted and Andromeda. Discovering that her parents were worried about the war and always busy and tired was mildly satisfying. To her surprise, Bellatrix discovered the girl was a little spitfire, filled with a rebellious spirit that reminded her of herself at that age. It was repulsive. If she hadn't been that mudblood's offspring, she might actually have liked her. That metamorphmagus gene sure as hell didn't come from Tonks's muggle family, and it was with that which she truly wanted to play, getting the child to replicate both her and Rodolphus's appearances until she was satisfied that she'd be able to mirror them from memory. If would be more than enough to push her darling sister's nerves over a cliff, and perhaps she'd do them all a favour and drag that bastard Auror husband with her.

It was a good thirty minutes before she returned to the main bustle in Diagon Alley, and another fifteen before she located Andromeda rushing around frantically. Sending Nymphadora on her way, she strode a retreat, congratulating herself as she joined Rodolphus once more.

Sly eyes raised through heavy lashes, meeting his and finding them equally entertained. It was hardly the brutal thrill that usually got them hot and bothered. But it would do for now. She placed a hand to his chest, lips parting as a sour chuckle trailed her teasing tongue.

"Bets on how long it'll take Andromeda to come for us?"

With any luck, not long at all. She wouldn't mind sending her sister to an early grave.