Triumphant: logs, entries, media.

Let this be a lesson to never turn one's back on their blood. Therefore, in lieu of flowers, my ex-sister accepts cash donations. She's going to need all of them.

[PETTIGREW]

The mess. Was it on purpose?

WHO: Bellatrix Lestrange & Barty Crouch, Jr
WHERE: Somewhere between here & Little Hangleton
WHAT: Someone knows how to arrive in style.
WHEN: The night before the Town Hall meeting.

****

( I never died. )

Hello, dears. We haven't spoken in quite some while.

[PETER PETTIGREW]

Peter, I received your missive regarding the Order's knowledge of the horcruxes which salvaged our great and dread Lord from the vestiges of death. You were good to come to me with this knowledge, Peter. And because of your close proximity to not only the Order but to the scum sucking blood traitors that are Sirius Black and James Potter, I lay this task at your feet.

You must bring them to a grinding halt. And, further, you are the only one well-placed to do this. While I should think a swift and thorough strike to kill them all at once would successfully clear our path I am open to a further discussion of your thoughts. Explain to me the best way to take the Order and clear a path for we righteous few to take our place once again.

[DEATH EATERS]

Doubtless you know that we cannot fail. Because we did not find the diadem, we must continue to search. One Horcrux in enemy hands is one too many.

Soon, we will be able to bring him back to the fullness of his physical form. And with the Horcruxes, our Lord shall never perish. Look to your tasks.

[NARCISSA]

You need not worry after Draco at Hogwarts.

OWL TO MS. BELLATRIX LESTRANGE

Madam Lestrange:

Order reformed excepting AD.

O knows about horcruxes.

Info came from SB. (Perhaps RB involved?)

Respectfully yrs.,

- PP

One night, almost a week ago, I was disturbed from my sleep. The world had become...strange. Restless, and too quiet, like the calm before a storm. This home, this ancient, creaking manor, felt weighted down, as if at any moment it would sink into darkness. At first I thought it was a mother's intuition, that something was wrong with my child. I checked on Draco -- no, fine. Blissfully ignorant to the world and shielded from all its horrors for one more night.

Since that night, I've had the elves on a cleaning sprint, tops to tails. I've even gotten down on my knees to join the assault, though my contributions pale considerably in the face of their immaculate efficiency. The dust that seems to settle most on old things is nigh on inexplicable. I imagine it could probably be dated back three centuries, at least.

Cleaning out one's rooms feels a lot like exorcising the poltergeists of memories. When I first settled into my new life, it had been easier, too easy, to throw everything I owned into old school trunks, shrink them and lock them away in drawers. Mother had wanted me to get rid of them. Childish things, to be put away.

Did you know that it is written into the founding charter of Malfoy Manor that everything that comes to live within its walls for more than three moons becomes the property of the master? Tied to by blood and only relinquished by consent. How proprietary of the house. My childhood dolls, my tea set, to remain forever incomplete since the day Sirius dropped and smashed one of the cups. The hair pin I once borrowed from my sister before she was and never returned. I once made an entire scrapbook of dried and pressed flowers from my first garden, each page dutifully if clumsily labeled. Apparently I had intended to give it to someone: To Annalisa -- a childhood friend? I cannot recall who she was. I don't know what happened to her.

Such silly trifles, I've held onto. They were supposed to be too invaluable for me to have thrown out, and yet I've shut them all away and haven't thought about them. What are they worth to me now? They are only empty placeholders. Everything they once represented has been gone for a long time.

[DEATH EATERS]

Doubtless you felt the sting of the Dark Mark, and have either been waiting for further instruction or rolling your sleeves with reckless abandon. May I suggest the former, instead of the latter?

He would not like to know that his faithful are lost.So, the question begs itself. Are you lost? Or are you - indeed - brave enough to take back the mantle and forge ahead? He is not gone, and we are not defeated.

So, if you dare, I invite you to meet me at [coordinates] on Saturday, at 23:30. We will see who is worthy, and who shall soon be dead.

Who | Bellatrix Lestrange, Evan Rosier, Rabastan Lestrange & you.
Where | Diagon Alley, just outside of Gringott's Bank
When | Approximately 5:00 PM
What | The Dark Lord requires an object, and his faithful are sent to retrieve it

Feel free to use this post to tag in, thread or otherwise explore this plot point.

****

The countercurse meant to slow the replicating charm to a dull crawl having been uttered, and Hufflepuff's cup having been retrieved, meant that the only obstacle left to overcome was a swift and unhasty exit. Bellatrix, indeed, knew that their disguises were quite done and that the goblins (because they were clever, nasty little beasts) would have alerted the Aurors. Fighting one's way out of anywhere was sure to get the blood up, and as she looked to her companions she smiled beatifically. Ready if you are, gentlemen.

The door flung open, and she crossed the threshold onto the street below.

Then, with her wand aloft, her smile became a snarl.

"Hello."

What we all heard on the 1st - and a couple other conversations - got me thinking. I'm sure there's someone many of us would want to bring back if we could. I told someone that I had no one I'd bring back, and that's still true.

We're the ones left behind, and it seems to me like it'd be easy for us to say we'd bring them back when the world's kept spinning, but living with that burden isn't that easy. Maybe it wouldn't be what they'd want. Maybe we've all changed too much. Maybe it wouldn't be fair.



Of course, life's a bitch and she's never fair, so what do I know.

You haven't killed Fabian Prewett yet? Ugh.

[PETER PETTIGREW]

It is time we meet.

[RABASTAN & EVAN]

The jaunt for ice cream with McKinnon notwithstanding, said 'increased security' in Diagon Alley will virtually insure a re-capture for us. Therefore, we are going to need Polyjuice potion.

The Dark Lord requires an artifact from the Lestrange vault, and we must retrieve it.

What is the point of being magical if, when practising magic, you are incarcerated and find for it? Your government is making you no better than the Muggles to which they so richly cleave. And if you had ever worried that magic would flee Britain, you only need now see ... that it will.

And you have Albus Dumbledore to thank for that.

For making pathetic Muggles out of you.

How can I assist in the investigation?

Lovely weather we're having.

Strange, I think, the way one's home soil can act as a tonic. Strange to think that my magic is ever stronger when I am rooted in English soil and tied to the legacy of my forebears. Strange to think that you - that any of you - might think to take it away from me, or from mine, ever again.

[BENJY FENWICK]

( NSFWesque talk )

I'm putting in a new rule - anything that gets left behind in my pub and isn't claimed within 24 hours becomes my property. Not sure what I'm going to do with a pair of frilly knickers but this ring should fetch a pretty knut or three.

Before Skee anyone asks: No. Fucking. Comment.

Though I want it on the record the Scrimgeour pays for his robes out of his pocket and not our funding and if that line gets our budget cut again you scum-sucking road whore I swear I will

[Marly]

Should've saved the drinking for tonight, I guess.

I hear France is nice this time of year.

[Private]
But it was never going to be over.

WHO: RABASTAN LESTRANGE, BELLATRIX BLACK
WHERE: ON BOARD A BOAT, SPEEDING TOWARD LAND
WHEN: AFTER BREAKING THE FAITHFUL OUT OF AZKABAN, TODAY
WHAT: DETERMINING IF RABASTAN IS READY TO FIGHT

***

( We'll die later. )