Who: Vera and Sirius Where: Tandromeda's When: Friday Why: Because! Warning: L for Lestrange
Vera was standing in her room at Aunt Andromeda's, in front of the covered mirror, counting to herself as she slowly removed her latest dreams from her head. She had tried to take a nap, and that hadn't been a good idea. she closed her eyes as she pressed her wand to her temple, torturing herself again with the images.
In some, she had the power and was tormenting a nameless muggle, or her mother, or Evan, or servants she had known in the school, every seen darker, bloodier than the first, getting progressively worse as they went along, the spells getting darker. Killing curses, severing charms, rotting hexes, cuting them with knives, shattering a mirror in which her mother's reflection stared out at her to carve out her baby brother's heart. Then they shifted, and she was the one being tortured, on the end of Bellatrix's wand, but the words she was saying hurt worse than Cruciatus she had dreamed up. "Weakling" "Sickly" "Imperfect" "Dirty blood traitor" "Unworthy of your blood" "Did you think we could ever love such a weakling?"
And then, of course, being killed by her sister.
With a low noise in the back of her throat, Vera pulled the memory out, leaning over her dresser heavily, face gone pale and ashen with reliving it, taking deep breaths as she tried to push back the sick without a potion.