#wallflower-lils

“JAMES POTTER YOU CANNOT HANG A CAT. That’s a new low, even for you.”

“Bloody hell, Evans.  You don’t have to yell like that.  Besides, it’s not like I’m actually going to hurt the stupid cat.  Just give it a fright ‘s all.”

Late March 1979

     ♠ HE WAS STILL REELING FROM THEIR LOSSES. It had been just under a month. On a selfish, self-preservative hand, he was glad he wasn’t involved in the gigantic mess-up on their side. The Dark Lord would never have given him a second chance had he fucked up to such a degree. On the other, forward-looking hand, it pissed him off that their side was losing. It was unacceptable. The Dark Lord’s reign was meant to last - messes like these were a step in the wrong direction.

     Things had never been so off lately; there was an odd air in the Wizarding World that he needed to get away from. Never had he expected he’d find himself in Cokeworth, on a hill, sitting down and evaluating the one piece of information he had that could tip the scales in their favour. The prophesy that Trelawney spouted felt real, not a trick. Severus wasn’t sure how the Dark Lord would take it.

                                   He lays down on the grass, looking back up at the sky.

@wallflower-lils

        ✘ It was the snap of a twig that created a knee-jerk reaction. One moment, Red watched with a wicked smirk as fire erupted, engulfing trees. People moved nearby but he remained hidden from casualties dragged like fresh meat to safety. The next moment, he withdrew like Devil’s Snare exposed to sunlight. Out popped Antonin Dolohov, blinking away sleepiness and confusion as he adjusted to new surroundings. A dark forest lit up by explosions and brought to life by not so distant screaming. 

        Set on his face, a silver mask that blocked ragged breathing from properly entering tight lungs and he was quick to remove it, not thinking of who might be nearby, of who may see him in this state. This wasn’t the first time he’d arrived on the scene of horror, confused and terrified, but it hadn’t happened frequently enough for him to know what the fuck to do. Who would know what to do here, now, with fire burning and---

        ---shit! A girl, pale-faced and in clear agony, rested against a nearby tree, unaware of his presence until--

       ---he stumbled back like a fucking idiot, the sight of her allowing his foot to crash down against a twig and---

        ---SNAP!!

        The girl, despite all her body was putting her through, looked towards him and Antonin froze. It was dark, but the chance that she might recognize him beneath vague moonlight and glowing flames was far too great for him to simply take off, appearing guilty for sins he did not remember committing. Before she could process anything, Antonin stowed his, or whoever had been cursing his fucking body’s, mask away, and he moved forward.

Things got increasingly tricky when you were a death eater who didn’t particularly care about blood status.  Of course, due to the history of magic in their blood, Natalie supposed purebloods tended to be more powerful, but it wasn’t always the case.  There were wonderful muggle-borns like Dirk Creswell, who Natalie was happy to be reconnecting with, and Lily Evans.  

Lily and Natalie had forged a friendship back in Hogwarts when the ginger had been kind enough to tutor Natalie in potions.  It was the only subject she was in danger of getting a low mark on in fifth year, so Professor Slughorn had connected Natalie with Lily.  While things had started out as a business relationship, it quickly turned into a weekly study session where more talking and laughing happened than studying.  

Nowadays, it has become a bit of a trouble finding time to talk with Lily.  They both had jobs, responsibilities... at least Lily used to before all that... all that suffering that Natalie had a part in, however indirect...  And while Natalie was a Death Eater, she found it increasingly difficult to maintain her smile when she knew her actions while masked directly disagreed with their very existence.  When she saw the girl, however, just outside of Fortescues, she decided to take the opportunity to take a seat beside her, flopping her bag on the table.  

“What are we doing today, Miss Evans?” Natalie grinned, her eyes sparkling.  “Studying the success of the flavors of the ice cream?  Or perhaps their creaminess?”  

“Of course, my dear.”  Sybill traced her fingers along the spines of the stacks of books, each detailing a different type of divination, discussing theory of divination processes from around the world.  I find that knowledge is most successfully a collaborative experience, don’t you think?  We have but one life to experience things, why not build off the backs of all those who have come before us?”