Like both her sisters, Bella had been sent to multiple tutors to learn how to behave like a proper pureblood witch. A large piece of that had to do with smiling and nodding when you wanted to scream and throw something sharp across the room. Bella had never been particularly good at that part, even if she hadn’t had a stay in Azkaban to rob her of what talent she did possess. Irritation at Andromeda’s words flashed clearly across her face, twisting beautiful, aristocratic features into something quite ugly. It only lasted a moment while her sister navigated her way across the mess to the bed, and then Bella forced her expression smooth.
What did she want? The question hung in the air like a cloud.
“I haven’t decided yet,” The older sister admitted. The idea that had arrived with the shards on the floor was still lodged in her mind, become more insistent with each passing moment. It was like a thorn in her side, a little voice whispering in her ear.
“You know he’ll get bored of you,” she said. Finally, Bella ducked down, scooping up a large slither of glass in one smooth motion. While one edge was dull, the rest of the sides were sharp. They cut into Bella’s pale skin as she clenched her fist around it and straightened up, feeling her own boiling hot blood flow to the surface. “I’ve seen him tear people apart. I helped him rip them open. He enjoys it.” She took a step forward, glass crunching beneath her.
“What do you have to offer? A middle aged Grandmother who hides in a hospital and acts as a mouthpiece to an invisible kidnapper? You’re boring, Andie.”