Rodolphus Lestrange. Right. That would explain why he looked so familiar. “Lestrange? The Death Eater?” she questioned, curiosity getting the best of her. That couldn’t be good at all, and she wondered if she should be bracing herself for the unexplainable arrival of You-Know-Who even though logic told her it was impossible for someone to return from the dead. Or, from the way he was speaking, it sounded as though he fancied himself the next Dark Lord. Hannah wasn’t sure which was worse. Either way, she didn’t like the fact that he seemed confident enough to simply throw his name around. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll turn your name into the authorities?” It was probably a stupid, naive question, but she still couldn’t help but blurt out her fear. She worried that his own lack of fear meant that when he got what he wanted, whatever that was, he would simply kill her and toss her aside.
Hannah resisted the sudden urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t understand why there was so much worry surrounding this whole blood issue. Magic was magic no matter how many generations it went back. In her situation though, the blonde figured that her views wouldn’t be appreciated and were best left quiet. For the present moment anyway. “I’m sorry,” stated Hannah quietly. “I didn’t realize there was a need.”