JADIS (knifed) wrote in raveled, @ 2016-12-06 20:58:00 |
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The Dark Lord, staring into the distance, commanded absolute attention. Around the table, they waited for his decision in rapt silence, the only occasional noises coming from Nagini as she circled the chairs. Finally, he spoke. "Rodolphus, I would like you to handle this." A pause. "And… how about Bella?" Though her face was bright with gratitude, Bellatrix couldn't help it. She sighed. Rodolphus sighed too, though he'd had enough practice sighing internally that Bellatrix seemed loud by comparison. He glanced sideways at her. All the worst parts of their last encounter replayed in quick succession. "Yes, my Lord." He probably shouldn't have asked Bellatrix if she sewed. * As they approached Cecil Warrington’s house, Bella was silent—a mask was very beneficial for blurring the line between dignified and sullen. She stopped short only when they reached the property line. The house was dark, and her eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t have thought he was smart enough to run.” Standing hip-to-hip, Rodolphus toed the invisible edge of Warrington's wards and considered the house and its dark windows. A wisp of pale smoke caught his eye as it escaped the chimney in a last breath; the window curtain bowed slightly at the edge. She was right about Warrington. No one who announced he was quitting the Death Eaters was smart enough to run. "He's not," he agreed flatly. He directed her attention with a finger. Bellatrix gave a little nod of assent. Drawing her wand, she began muttering under her breath—the air in front of them rippled ("Shoddy," she said scornfully) and then popped loudly. Gold jags rained around them, hissing and spitting as broken magic met the damp autumn air. Rodolphus swept his own wand through it to cast and the ash grain glowed. Anti-apparition: Cecil would not escape this hole he'd spent so long digging. As this new spell pulsed around them, filling the cracks left by Warrington's fallen wards, Dolph moved to the door. He had time for one foolish thought—does Warrington even lock up?—before he blasted through it, leaving that particular question forever unanswered. Rodolphus had thankfully proved that their approach wasn't one of stealth, and Bellatrix charged in, letting out a cry of "WARRINGTON!" Upstairs, they could hear a faint thumping noise of someone trying to disentangle himself from the bedclothes. Bellatrix, taking the stairs two at a time, let out a laugh half of exasperation and half of wonder. "He really didn't have any idea!" Behind her came a thunder of footfalls and a dry bark: "idiot." Warrington may have had no idea of his mortal peril initially, but he couldn't remain in the dark forever. As they rounded the corner, a Blasting Curse missed Bellatrix by inches. "How dare you, Warrington—Expulso!" The wall shuddered and split and through the newly made gaps, Dolph watched Cecil Warrington blanch… then turn tail and run. "Bit late for that," he growled, snapping a red, fiery lasso through the wall and around Cecil's ankle. His wand cut the air to bring the magical rope back with a sharp jerk. Warrington crashed through the gaps in the wall spectacularly, and by the time Rodolphus had pulled him up into a semi-standing position, he was bleeding heavily from a cut above his eye. "The Dark Lord gives you the precious gift of his trust," Bellatrix hissed, taking a few steps forward so the nose of her mask was inches from his face. "And you repay him by throwing it it all away? You aren't fit to kiss his shoes, breathe the same air—Cruci-" She was cut off by the noise of splintering wood. Warrington, who had managed to hold on to his wand, was bringing the ceiling down around them. "Duck!" Rodolphus tried to use the little weasel as a shield against the collapsing roof, but under threat of murder, Cecil was far more slippery than he ever had been in service of the Lord. Their mouths filled with plaster and insulation, and a wrenching twist left his clenched fist empty; he swung it at the retreating smudge in his blurry vision, but there was only an unsatisfying yelp of pain. "Bellatrix." He dug roughly through debris. If Warrington got away, they'd be a laughingstock. "I'm here!" Bellatrix pushed a large ceiling beam away with a wince and forced herself to stand up—she could feel blood trickling down her arm, but they had a more serious problem right now. "Did we lose him?" There was a note of panic in her voice. A jet of spiralling wind from her wand cleared away the dust. They hadn't lost Warrington—he was only a couple feet away, clambering through the wreckage and trying very hard to stay quiet. Rodolphus made a noise of disgust. Cecil had managed to free himself only to botch the escape itself. This wave of disappointment was familiar, tempered by relief. "Do you want us to count to ten?" He asked dryly of the scrambling figure. Bellatrix started—was that a sense of humor? From Rodolphus Lestrange?—but allowed herself to relax into a smile. "I'm having fun, but not enough fun to chase a mongrel down a chimney." A moment later, Cecil Warrington was tangled in a fishing net and floating towards them. This time there would be no mistakes. Rodolphus relieved Warrington of his wand, not affording him the dignity of magical disarmament but simply yanking it free. In his strange hands, laurel wood steamed and burned. He snapped it with a breath of pain. "I believe you were teaching him about loyalty." "Of course." She raised her wand, but instead of the Cruciatus Curse, a shadowy, tar-like substance began pouring out of the end, swirling through the air towards Warrington. As it met his skin, he began screaming and twitching, clawing at the shadow as it crept up towards his face. Bellatrix pulled off her mask to better watch, face alight with fury. "The Dark Lord is merciful, but not to traitors." He was starting to choke now, and croaked out: "Help." "No." If their Lord was merciless to traitors so should he be. Rodolphus turned his palm into Cecil's hair, a tight fist directing his throat to the murky air. But no severing or crushing charm followed. The shadow followed its now-lengthened path and the two Death Eaters watched in rapt ceremony. The traitor's screams shook the air as Bella's dark magic writhed into his mouth. Then, abruptly, they stopped. Bellatrix's mouth curled into a smile as she watched the body go slack, the shadows slowly receding into the brisk night air. Veins still thrumming with adrenaline, she looked from the corpse up at the broad-shouldered figure still holding it. Rodolphus had a bruise starting to purple on one cheekbone—her challenging eyes lingered there before meeting his gaze. He watched her watch him, though his own eyes were a fluid movement over her dark lashes, her mouth—commanding despite a smear of blood—her haughty chin. After a long moment, she broke the silence. "Would you like to have a drink with me?" He let Cecil fall, one piece of detritus amidst the rest. "Yes, I would." |