InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I dreamt I was a moran..."

Narcissa B. M. Lestrange (lady_lestrange) wrote in accersitus,
@ 2008-04-03 22:16:00

Entry tags:

*thread-inprogress, alexander lestrange (2020), cygnus black (1974), meda lestrange (2020), narcissa black malfoy lestrange (2020), rabastan lestrange (1974), rabastan lestrange (2020)

A long-awaited arrival; various [NBML, RL, ML, RL, XL, CB]
WHO: Narcissa Black Malfoy Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange the elder, Meda Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange the younger, Xander Lestrange and Cygnus Black
WHERE: Somewhere near the Headmaster's office
WHEN: 24-25 December, 1001; just before the stroke of midnight and on
SUMMARY: Rabastan and Narcissa of the year 2020 arrive and much chaos ensues. IN-PROGRESS thread.
RATING: TBD

"I could almost wish for Albus Dumbledore," Narcissa spat over her shoulder to her husband as they moved away from the office of the current Headmaster. It had been an irregular meeting time, for it was the holidays, but with several days without any word about their children, Rabastan and Narcissa Lestrange had demanded another thorough search of the castle. That had been denied, due to a lack of staff, and Narcissa was livid, as well as highly distraught. Her children were missing and when they were found, for they would be found, she was going to murder the person responsible.

She turned the corner and stopped with a growl, turning back to face Rabastan. "This is-"

But Rabastan was not there. Instead of the corridor she has just moved through to this one, there was a wall. Confused and furious, she drew her wand and rapped sharply on the stone.

(Post a new comment)

freefamilyman
2008-04-04 02:38 am UTC (link)

Rabastan agreed wholeheartedly. Whatever could be said against Albus Dumbledore, one had to admit that he would never let this carry on for so long as it had. Children, more specifically, his children, were missing, and there was no explanation, none at all. Meda he could have understood, could have even felt a bit better about, because she had a tendency to run off unexpectedly, to find a private place of her own to sort matters out. Though as her father he couldn't pretend to understand it, he always wanted to help her work them out, he did know what it was like to be in a situation that felt overwhelming, maddening, and to want nothing more than to escape. Had Meda alone been gone he would have been worried, but he would have assumed that wherever she was, she was there of her own free will, that she could return if she got hungry or cold or wanted company.

However, with Alexander gone too, the scene in his mind turned from innocent teenage rebellion to something more sinister. Both of them had not just disappeared. Both of them had not wandered off. Someone had his children. Someone was holding them with some sort of motive, perhaps they had even hidden them in the castle, and no one would do what was necessary to find them. He was determined, and he knew his wife was too, to search every part of this castle with a fine toothed comb if that was what it took to find them. Azkaban had taught him that caring for material things, such as money and property, was worthless, but he was proud, and full of love, for this family he and Narcissa had created. The family, specifically his children, were what he credited with making the horrors of that place fade, and they were responsible with making him look younger than he had when he was first released. They gave him his life, and now someone might be taking theirs.

Rabastan turned slightly, and his eyes caught a flash of blonde hair. Was it....

"Meda!" Without hesitation he took several quick, wide strides toward the blonde girl in the window sill, certain it was his daughter now. "Meda Lestrange, you broke the rules." his voice was gruff, but his eyes betrayed the worry he had had for her, the sort of feeling that can only come from a parent concerned about the possibility of losing a child. "You've had your mother and I worried out of our minds."

(Reply to this) (Thread)

missmeda
2008-04-04 03:09 am UTC (link)

Meda Lestrange did have a tendency to run off unexpectedly, as well as somewhat expectedly, and Christmas Eve night in the year one-thousand and one was no except to this. She hadn't taken it as far as she normally did, and had only retreated to the less-used corridor that was the Headmaster's office corridor later years, but was only a strange dead end in this one for the castle here was still adapting to changes. It was quiet here, far from the chaos that was her entire extended family of the present and past... except her parents.

It was Christmas Eve, one of her most favourite holiday events, and they were not here to share in it. What worse, she was certain her younger parents here were less close now than they had been in the first Founder's reality, her maternal grandparents were concerned and unhappy about the time that had stretched between their arrivals, her paternal grandparents never seemed to be in the same room and the same time, even fi their ages were wrong and people who should be getting along by now, such as her younger mother and her aunt, still were tense. Nothing was right here, nothing at all.

Feeling excessively sorry for herself, she sat perched in a windowsill, wanting to change it all. "I just wish my parents, my parents from my time, were here," she pleaded to the castle, knowing it would do no good, for it hadn't before, and that rubbish about wishes being granted on Christmas Eve, the night purported to be when animals could freely talk, was probably just rubbish.

And then the man appeared and spoke her name. She had seen him simply pop soundlessly into the corridor, otherwise she never would have believed Rabastan Lestrange from her right time was standing there. Her mouth dropped open, then closed, then dropped open again.

"I did it," she whispered, blinking at him owlishly before a smile started to slowly creep across her face. "I did it. I wished you here ohmydearsweetmelrinandhissparklypantsDADDY!" With a rapturous scream of joy that likely echoed along the corridor, one that had built quickly in the insensible jumbled rush of her words, she tumbled out of the windowsill, thankfully to the inside of the building rather than the outside, stumbled to regain her footing and then threw herself at Rabastan.

On the other side of the wall, Narcissa had tried a number of counters to enchantments before determining what was between her and her husband was indeed an actual wall. Was this some sort of trap? Was the the same that had befallen her children?

She spun, wand up and sense on alert, searching the space she was confined to and realizing she was not entirely boxed in. While she was reluctant to stray far from this wall, knowing Rabastan would likely be trying to reach her, she did move forward slightly to peer around a new bend. As she did, she spotted Alexander, or rather, a boy she was certain was her son from the back.

Calling out his name she rushed to him and then, not even allowing the boy in front of her to turn fully around, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close into her faintly perfumed embrace, pressing frantic kisses to his temple and face, tears blurring her vision slightly. Dear Salazar, had he grown since she last saw him? Granted, it was not as long ago as many as she and Rabastan rarely let a whole term go by without some reason to see their children at school, but he did feel taller.

"Oh, my darling, my little Xander," she murmured, some part of her faintly realizing she could very well be embarrassing her near-grown son, but ultimately not caring as she near-smothered him in tearful kisses of relief.