#ufgalleryattack

He’s only spared by Bellatrix catching sight of her sister over his shoulder and simply walking away. The closer she gets, the easier it is for her to make out Cissa’s battered appearance, her anger spiking again. The fact that they would dare come here- She takes a breath, forcing herself to keep those thoughts down, and reaches her free hand up to gently grab Cissa’s shoulder]

How badly are you hurt? You shouldn’t still be here regardless.

Francesca, hey. Are you alright?

[The gala was in full swing when Lucius arrived; he was grievously late, but he wasn’t worried in the slightest about it. It was a low-level event, nothing worth charging through the night and taking off work early for, especially with all the department members that had recently been let go following the low-level (even lower level than the status of the party’s hosts, but paramount to him, nonetheless) incidence of forgery. 

The foyer of the gallery was lit brightly in a golden hue but was all-but deserted by this time; the guests had long since gone through to the main room, and the sounds of gentle music and conversation were floating up toward the main doors as Lucius entered, taking the steps two at a time and looking around once he was inside. His gaze rested steadily on the main doors of the party, arching his neck just slightly to see if he could catch sight of Narcissa inside...but then his eye was caught by something more pressing in the exact moment. A flash of another’s blonde hair to his right, and soon he was turning to face Clara, familiar smug expression on his face that came along with his plans (seemingly) coming together.]

I’ll ignore that you’re late if you ignore that I’m later.