InsaneJournal

A pocket full of posies. A pity, perhaps, that there were no posies about. There were, however, a few sprigs of white heather that had found their way into Barty's grasp. What silly little things, these silly soundless bells. Surely no one believed they worked. If ever there were danger, he was certainly it. But not magic had stopped him, no wards or charms had kept him at bay. He knew that she worked here. Maybe the most beautiful thing he'd ever done, and she was up again, walking and talking and working in a greenhouse, of all banally absurd things. In his own way, Barty was exceptionally fond of the idea of Alice Longbottom. Perhaps it was because she was so ignorant of what fate might lay before her. Whole and unspoilt. Not unmarred, because no one was truly unmarred, but not yet shredded to bits and patched back up together. Not yet. Maybe. Maybe soon.

A sharp smile sliced across Barty's lips as he ripped another little flower from the stem. The severed blossom was flicked down toward his outstretched feet, landing atop the three mice he'd killed since he'd arrived. It had been dark when he'd first settled in. It was difficult to sleep at night. He much preferred to sleep during the day. When it was bright and warm. It was far nicer being awake in the cold, dark hours when the rest of the village seemed so ridiculously quiet. Barty couldn't help it. He was restless. The Dark Lord was just... silent. His Mark felt hollow. And Bella wasn't the fun sort of addled, not yet. And Regulus was... well, Regulus needed a little extra care these days. Rodolphus- well. Barty enjoyed Rodolphus most when they were working. And without work, they weren't working. Disappointing.

Boring. Tedious. Unspeakably dull. But the minutes were ticking by. And it wouldn't be so many more before lovely little Alice made her way in.

He hoped.

If worse went to worst, he at least had a couple of presents to leave behind.