@a-dolohovxâ @cvrrcwsâ @travcrsâ
Something irksome about the Rosier boy had wormed its way under Luciusâ skin. He could feel it, just now, winding around with a serpentine madness, curling and uncurling in the pit of his stomach. Every unwashed lowlife in London appeared to him like the other man, begging to be taught a lesson for his cheek alone. Begging, rather, for his bloodtraitor girlfriend to be on the receiving end of the Cruciatus. The Malfoy and Rosier family bond now seemed no greater than a nuisance. The heirâs hand that night, had leapt for his wand, eager to refute the insults spewing from Evanâs twisted maw.Â
That, and, perhaps the quips from Barty were just enough to throw his temper just over the ever adjacent edge. Youâre a real pussy cat deep down. It had been too long since heâd accompanied Dolohov out for a night. Since heâd even thought of anyone outside of the ethereal creature soon to be his wife, really. Before Narcissa, though, there had been the occasional rousing of loyalists; enforcing their reign even if only in small, incendiary bursts.Â
Antonin, as usual, was late. Theyâd agreed, or rather, Lucius had commanded they meet for a bit of sport. What do you say, Zolotse? His gray eyes idly passed over a couple laughing loudly in one of the darker stretches of Hyde Park. Every moron in the world had gotten bolder, it seemed, in the few weeks of silence since the October attacks. One month and every little mudblood in London had forgotten to look after themselves. His long hands brought a half-finished cigarette, his third, to his pursed lips, the smoke mingling with the cloudy huff of his breath. The loud crack beside him might have made a lesser man flinch. Lucius let out an amused laugh, startling the couple nearby. âMudak,â He murmured, by way of greeting. âPerhaps if Iâd drawn you a map, you might not have kept me waiting.â
Antonin had been laying low for a good month or so, not necessarily out of choice, but because it was sometimes necessary. He had been thinking about going back to Russia, only for a visit of course, but the people there were just sharper. The ones like him were more familiar with Ant and his ways, whereas he often found that in drab little London, people who were supposedly like him, were nowhere near him. They were just shouty, angry little children. There were in fact only a handful of followers to the cause that Ant found to be anywhere near tolerable. Much like him, they didnât have friends, just like minded peers, people who shared his views and didnât have much of a problem with his own personal brand of violence.Â
He was just itching to get out and do something, anything. It had been far too long. Ant had managed to suppress it as long as he could do, but it seemed to him that the filth were spreading more and more. Going about their jovial little afternoon, as if they were making a point.  It made his skin crawl that there were people out there who once belonged to a pureblood line and somehow decided that tainting that line with filth was the in thing to do. With those thoughts going through his mind, an owl from someone like Lucius couldnât have come at a better time. He didnât know too much about the Malfoy heir, only what he cared to know, which was that his definition of sport was probably close Antâs own and that was enough for him.Â
Rubbing his thumb over his index finger as he apparated, it used to be a nervous habit, but now the Russian did it without realising. Perhaps because the art of apparation used to worry him, but nowadays he could blink and land exactly where he wanted to. Without looking over to Lucius, Ant smirked.  âAnd Perhaps if you were wound any tighter, youâd break.â Looking over at the other, his smirk grew. Taking a stance against the wall, he pulled out a silver cigarette from within his blazer. âJust us is it, dorogoy?â
â so sheâd tricked malfoyâs owl into stopping so she could be nosy. it wasnât the first time sheâd invited herself along to something. but sheâd been bored since the attacks, and work just wasnât cutting it. if anything, having to show up to the bloody ministry job every day was making her irritation worsen rather than keep her busy. what she really wanted, was to be sent to egypt. or anywhere. and malachi had gone off somewhere so she couldnât even go and bother him when she got bored. and she hadnât even seen the rosier girl around, so she assumed they were off together somewhere.
  â such filth, â she thought as she watched people pass, glaring from her spot by her apartment. she eventually stepped away from the door, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head and heading towards the apparition point. she apparated as soon as she reached it, a loud crack ! signalling her arrival where malfoy had told dolohov to meet him.
  â hi boys, â she smirked, crossing her arms. â did you really think you could have a party without inviting me ? â she asked, head tilting slightly for a moment. she glanced around. â i took the liberty of inviting reina as well, hope you donât mind. â
Reina knew better than to be vocal about her dissatisfaction. But sheâd left everything that sheâd worked for back in Italy just to be a glorified errand-runner. So sheâd done what any young rich witch would, overindulge. Her poor parents had been in overdrive in recent weeks trying to keep her less than admirable actions out of the Prophet. In her mind, it was a small price to pay for what sheâd given up.Â
On her part, Alecto hadnât had to do much convincing to get Reinaâs commitment. Boredom had gotten the better of her quite some times ago, and having to constantly hear her peers reminisce about something sheâd missed did nothing to help with the restlessness. Compounded by the fact that she wasnât exactly high in the pecking order, and was rarely tasked with anything even remotely preferable.  Knowing they were crashing the boys night they had planned just sweetened the deal.
Upon her arrival, the witchâs nose wrinkled and her expression soured. If it had been up to Reina sheâd spend as little time in the more average parts of the muggle world. âMerlin, how do people live this way?â It was so painfully ordinary that it almost hurt. âAnd to think there are people who choose to stay here.â Though a smile found its way onto her lips once her gaze moved to others. âLooks like Iâm just in time. The gangâs all here.âÂ