Chemical Smiles - (Bellatrix)

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CHEMICAL SMILES
MALFOY MANOR, 10:00AM, TAG: BELLATRIX

Rodolphus Lestrange was not a morning person. Since Azkaban he had mostly taken to sleeping away the daylight hours unless the Dark Lord had a matter of importance for him, it was easier to travel undetected at night, easier to conduct his business and sleeping the day away had it’s benefits, he rarely had to face many of the others who had taken residence in the Malfoy manor unless they stumbled upon the often random room he had chosen to sleep in that day. The sunlight seemed to ease the nightmares, made it more difficult for those memories of Azkaban and it’s dementors to seep in. Though perhaps that was the wine.

A loud bang from the corridor had awoken him and despite his best efforts to screw his eyes shut tightly he was awake. He groaned quietly as he rolled to his side, the clink of several bottles a harsh reminder of the pounding at the back of his head. He really would have to find a better way to get to sleep. The noise of the Malfoy manor was insufferable, bodies scurrying about, screamed arguments between his charming cohorts, prattling wailing excuses for music drifting through the halls as house elves busied away in the kitchens, the occasional odd scream arising from the basement. Begrudgingly he accepted he would not be getting back to sleep today.

Forcing his eyes open he was confronted with the morning sun, bright and glazing as a beautiful day settled in, Rodolphus glared sourly at the open windows. He was not used to seeing the morning from this point, he could all but feel his skin eagerly drinking in the light. It seemed he had chosen a drawing room to reside in the previous night he noted, propping himself up on the sofa, his wand still perched in his hand as it usually remained while he slept – just incase.

The sight of his bedraggled reflection in an adjacent mirror quickly woke him up properly. It didn’t take long to freshen up for the day and summoning yet another load of fresh clothing from his ancestral home. The house elves he had to admit were rather good at remembering what was his and returning it to the room he was meant to use as his own and mostly ignored. Dressed for the day he allowed a moment’s indulgence to study himself in the mirror. Better. Clean shaven, his cropped auburn hair ruffled back to perfection, the dark bags under swamp green eyes slowly receding. His face still clung to the deathly pallor of Azkaban, his cheeks still painfully gaunt yet there was no doubt he was looking better, looking more alike himself once more, the handsome chiselled features still standing proud. He offered himself a bright, charming smile. Once more into the breach.

Claiming one of the Daily Prophets from the long empty breakfast table he made himself comfortable. Long legs laid across the top of the table, leaning back in the chair he opened the paper, dark eyes scanning across the many useless articles inside with a vague amusement. What to do with the day that lay ahead of him? Perhaps a trip to Knockturn Alley, perhaps a trip to one of the surrounding muggle cities, he had been meaning to get into St. Mungos to pay dear Frank and Alice a visit though that would no doubt require polyjuice and perhaps it would be best to wait to ask his dear wife if she’d care to join him on such an escapade. Bellatrix. He allowed his thoughts to wonder for a moment. He pondered if she was still staying within this manor with her sister or had taken up elsewhere as he had for several weeks with Rabastan. He gladly left her to her own devices, he would not have married her if she’d required looking after. Weeks must have passed since he had last seen her. A pang of longing hit harshly, quickly taken and shoved unceremoniously to the back of his thoughts. It didn’t do to ponder over such things. Flicking the page to distract himself, a smirk coiled darkly to his lips at the sight of the article within, muggle relations indeed.

[amber2]

Malfoy Manor was as much as home as any place right now. After spending years in Azkaban, Bellatrix had decided that you couldn't be too picky about who put a bed under your body and a pillow under your head. It was one of Bella's more rational thoughts. Truth be told, she had a few of them from time to time, but her rationalizations never really seemed rational to anyone else. In the world of Bellatrix everything she said and did made perfect sense. But no one could doubt that even if she was a bit on the insane side, Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the best Death Eaters that the Dark Lord had. He was his right hand woman. Of course, it was well known that Bellatrix wanted more, but their Lord had never seen Bella the way she wanted him too. This only furthered Bellatrix's cruelty and desire to get closer to the Dark Lord. If she could make him see that she was just as ruthless as he could be then everything would be fine. He would see her for who she is and he would love her, finally.

Nevermind the fact that Bellatrix was actually a Mrs. No one would probably know it from the way that she envied and adored the Dark Lord, but Bella was actually very legally attached to Rodolphus Lestrange. Well, who cared about legality? Her marriage, to her anyway, had been one of convenience. The two had a mutual desire to keep their blood line pure. It wasn't that Bellatrix hated her husband, actually, she did care for him in her own way; the woman was just highly obsessed with the leader of their little group. A little group that was growing larger and larger each day. And Bellatrix still stood out as the most devoted. She knew that the little comments about her sister's friendliness with muggles and muggle-borns were just little comments of encouragement. One day, Bellatrix would end her sister and that little dirty child of theirs. Then her family line would be clean again.

The curly-haired Death Eater stretched out on the bed. Such a nice bed, especially compared to what she'd slept on in Azkaban. Narcissa Malfoy made sure her sister was taken care of. Not like their other sister. Narcissa had kept the bloodline pure. On the other hand, Cissy had also married someone Bella didn't approve of. Bellatrix was highly suspicious of Lucius Malfoy. The two had a few things in common: the Dark Lord thought highly of them both and they both had a bit of self preservation embedded into whatever portion of their souls were left. However, when Bellatrix and the other loyal Death Eaters went to Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy went to his job at the Ministry and denied being involved. Bella wasn't a traitor, so her knowledge of Mr. Malfoy was kept to herself while she sat on her conviction chair as though it were a throne in a queen's castle, but deep inside she thought there was something off about a man who would cower back into the depths of the Ministry.

Getting dressed was done quickly. A perk to being out of prison and in the house of her sister was the food. Bellatrix was hungry. She barely noted that her husband hadn't slept with her. When did he ever anymore? Why should she care? She had been keeping to herself mostly while she plotted the best ways to kill the Potter boy. One of her only companions was her sister, whom Bella loved dearly. Few ever saw the extent to which Bella could love or even graced the surface of it. Almost everyone saw her as a crazed lunatic who would stop at nothing to kill anyone. While that was true, there was a soft spot for people like Narcissa. The house elf that her sister's family had recently acquired after the horrid incident Bella had heard about with the Potter boy freeing the other one (which actually made Bella smile on the inside sometimes because it was an embarrassment to Lucius) had laid out her clothes for the day. Bellatrix slid the black and green gown on and headed down to the kitchen with her odd yet graceful limp that she carried herself with. Within it she found none other than her dear husband.

“I don't know why you read that shit.” Such loving words for her other half. She sat down while the house elf poured her juice and made her breakfast. Her black-heeled boots clicking against the table as she propped them up, crossing her legs. “Having fun, Love?” Though she didn't love him, the word came out as it always did: casually. It wasn't a term of endearment. If she love him she would have claimed him with my love the way she did the Dark Lord at times. Love was just a word around Rodolphus Lestrange.

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Unlike his wife Rodolphus had not attempted to hide his hatred at staying in the Malfoy manor. Not when his own ancestral home was but a short apparition away. Of course the Dark Lord had been right since their breakout no doubt it had become camping destination number 1 for the aurors and they did have the upper hand of 15 years attempting to break the protective spells upon it. The idea of them walking the corridors, touching his family’s things sickened him to the core. A small comfort came from the idea of the hassle the portraits would be giving them and the sheer amount of protective charms on every single door thanks to his grandfather’s paranoia. Perhaps he could have adapted if it was Avery or even Yexley but the Malfoys? He had little love for the pompous blonde’s most especially since Lucy had returned from Azkaban a broken man after a few short months imprisoned – it was insulting.

“Good morning dear.” He greeted, sarcasm clinging to each syllable in retort to her ever so loving greeting. He helped himself to the juice poured for her without bothering to ask though left her breakfast untouched. He had not adjusted back to meals as well as his wife; the smell of such rich food still caused a twist of repulsion in his stomach. “You can tell a lot about your enemy from the things they don’t say, you should know that Bella.” He turned the page, though had quite given up on actually reading what it said. He enjoyed mocking her on occasion, provoking and winding her like a clockwork doll at least those were emotions he could still provoke from her.

Dark green eyes glanced over the top of his paper to survey his wife quietly. She was still beautiful, the touches of Azkaban that also marred his own features merely proud signs of her loyalty. He’d loved her, if the word truly applied, in his own way since perhaps their fifth year at Hogwarts, naturally the words had never been said between them. He’d spent much of his last years at Hogwarts courting her, harassing her what had started as mere lust growing into a burning obsession perhaps mostly for the mere fact that he’d never before been refused. The game of ownership was one that would remain throughout their marriage. He knew her affections for the dark lord of course, he wasn’t blind, he’d come to accept it many years ago, taking a quiet sadistic enjoyment in watching her affections go ignored and unheard as much as his own were.

He had hoped after Azkaban he would be able to return to the Lestrange manor with his wife and even if they had been forced to take residence elsewhere have the comfort of her beside him each night. He’d promptly put a stop to that after the first week. Showing Bellatrix weakness was like waving a steak infront of a pitbull. The fact he awoke most nights in fits of sweat and terror following the nightmares of Azkaban was something he would never allow her to be party to.

“If you call being woken up by bloody peacocks at the crack of dawn fun.” He answered bitterly. For weeks Rodolphus had been threatening that peacock stew would soon be on the menu, it was undeniable that their numbers did seem to be dwindling, foul noisy creatures – only someone like Lucy would keep damned peacocks.

He folded the news paper in half, placing it down to one side the face of Cornelius Fudge still looking up with a pathetic, panicked expression as he promised all was still under control. He lent back in his chair, propping his head on two long fingers, this time surveying his wife unashamedly. Despite their shameful excuse of a broken marriage, despite how he still took a rather childish enjoyment in irritating her, his wife remained the closet thing he had to a friend.
“You look pale, have you left the manor recently?” He ignored the irony that he sat just as pale if not more so then she did. The question was neither one of concern nor a true insult, a small mischievous smirk coiling to the corner of his lips.

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[amber2]

Her husband was attractive, there was no denying that. Bellatrix wouldn't have married just any guy. She might not have had love for him, or at least, the same love that she had for the Dark Lord, but she didn't dislike him either. When it came down to it, Bellatrix's romantic life was complicated. She cared for her husband in her own way, but she was obsessed with the leader of their group and determined to gain his affection. And then there were things she had on the side, purely because she could and got bored. But she didn't trust any of her side dishes. Bella trusted very few people completely and if nothing else Bellatrix Lestrange could say that her husband was one of the people she would trust with her life. Not that she thought she was going to die any time in the near future. Azkaban hadn't killed her, what else was there? Besides, she had been trained by the Dark Lord himself! How many other people could say that? Not many. Bellatrix thought perhaps Severus had learned a thing or two, but she knew that she was by far the most worthy. Snape had gone to teaching after the disappearance of the Dark Lord, while herself, Rodolphus, and a few others spent their days in Azkaban Prison, waiting for the return of the Dark Lord. Oh, they had their fun with the Longbottoms first, but eventually they had been caught. Instead of hiding the truth and acting like she wanted the entire world to get along, though, she went to her cell after declaring that the true Dark Lord would return, like the loyal servant that she was.

His sarcastic greeting to her only made her smile. They might be a cruel pair, but they were definitely made for each other, even if Bellatrix refused to believe that anyone other than the Dark Lord was worthy of her. Rodolphus came a close second. At least she knew where his loyalties lied. At least he would not abandon their quest for power over the muggle world. She only paid a slight amount of attention to the fact that he drank her juice. She was married to him; it wasn't like they hadn't swapped spit before. It was slightly annoying that he just reached over and helped himself when there was a perfectly capable house elf to do those sorts of things. But her drink was immediately filled back up by said elf and before he could take it again Bella took a drink of it herself. “Thanks for testing it for poison.” She gave him a half smirk and started on her breakfast. The remark was only half joking; she wouldn't put it past Lucius to try and kill her off, though there would be hell to pay for an action like that later. True, she had adjusted to eating better than her husband had, still, Bella's meals were largely wasted. Her stomach could no longer hold as much food as the Malfoys were used to eating. Most of her food ended up wherever the house elves decided to put it. But to please Cissy she tried.

Lucius and his peacocks. Mr. Lestrange was right in one thing at the very least: The idea of having peacocks roaming around was just completely insane, even on Bellatrix's standards. Bella had a lot of faults, but she could honestly say she held no desire to raise peacocks. What Cissy had thought when agreeing to allowing those things to run around, Bellatrix would never understand. For a moment, the curly-haired woman thought about pointing out that Rodolphus was intended to share her bed, but that almost felt like begging. Bellatrix was a strong woman. She might go out of her way a little more for the Dark Lord, and she might appear to others as begging him sometimes, but she would never show that weakness to her husband. As she saw it, she didn't beg the Dark Lord, she just made herself available for him to use as he desired. So instead of insisting that her husband sleep with her at night, Bella held her head high and snorted at the idea of the large birds taking up so much space.

The question of whether Bellatrix had left the residence of the Malfoys recently would have thrown her off had she not see the spark of a smirk playing on her husband's face. At this, one side of her lips pulled up into a half smile and an eyebrow shot up at the same time her head jerked slightly right. Sometimes Bellatrix's movements were sharp and still graceful, almost like a cat. “As a matter of fact, I have not.” Suddenly, Bella didn't want anything to do with her breakfast. “Actually, I'm going a bit... stir crazy.” Never mind that Bellatrix was actually, very much insane. “What did you have in mind, Mr. Lestrange?” It was a term even more endearing than love when applied to Rodolphus. Aside from actually calling him by his name or a silly little pet name, this was tantamount to showing any sort of affection.

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Rodolphus sneered back at his wife's comment on the poison. It wouldn't have been, he knew that for nigh on certainty. “Like Lucy would have the guts.” Oh no doubt Lucius would have loved to see them both collapse at the breakfast table and be gone for good, but he was far to much of a coward to do any more then fantasise over such things. What little respect he'd held for Malfoy during their school years and the first war had vanished during Azkaban. There were so few of them who had remained loyal, who had refused to turn their backs and continued with the dark lords wishes. They had suffered for their cause and been rewarded on their masters return. The years of Azkaban had forged a hatred of those that chose to run and hide and the Malfoy's were the worst kind. The coward had crawled to the ministry, not only hiding as so many of the others had but denying, renouncing their lord claiming he was under the imperius curse the whole time. Rodolphus had vowed for a long time as soon as the opportunity arose he'd ensure that lie became a reality, ironically it seemed Lucy was doing a rather good job at ruining himself alone now adays. His downfall was providing rather delightful viewing.

He watched as his question caught her interest, the breakfast seemingly forgotten as she turned her full attention to him. A large smile crossed his features that seemed to eradicate ten years from his face, an all to disturbing spark of life filling usually cold green eyes. “Well I've heard there's a charming muggle village close by, we could get some sight seeing in.” Muggle 'sightseeing' had long been a favourite hobby of his. Since he had first been able to commit the unforgivable curses. He had been brought up to despise the pathetic creatures and the hatred had only strengthened with adulthood. Thieves, magic killers.

His mother had been a rare presence in his childhood leaving Rodolphus much to his own wiles and later Rabastan to be cared for by his older brother (which perhaps explained a few things). But on the rare occasions she'd deemed to tuck him in at night (usually when a minister or some other important figure sat down stairs needing to be impressed), she'd told him the stories of the witch burnings, of how certain muggles had learnt to steal magic. He vowed then unlike his parents who had flittered around the ministry caring for nothing but their wealth and well-kept reputations he and his brother would see the muggles put back in their correct place, would see every mudblood punished.

Toying with muggles, tearing down their ant-nests of cities, destroying them was an all to easy and all to thrilling pursuit. His and his wives shared sadism was perhaps one of the few things that actually made their marriage workable, it was certainly one of the things that had first attracted him to her. To many were frightened to dirty their hands, to take the enjoyment that was rightfully theirs in showing the muggles, mudbloods and traitors their true place in the world.

“But I'd like us to make a stop first.” A rare excitement filled his velvet tones having to stop himself from blurting out his plan. “It's been far to long since I've seen St. Mungo's and I think there's two old friends of ours it would be rude not to visit.” He grinned devilishly at her. Frank and Alice Longbottom had been their first downfall, he knew paying them a 'visit' even with polyjuice potion was playing with fire. But he'd never been able to resist a challenge. The Longbottom's had been they're last desperate hope and as soon as it had become clear they'd known nothing they hadn't gone wasted, they had been a good sport, a good distraction from the grief and horror of no longer having any leads to their Lord. The two of them were some of their best work from the first war.

When Alastor Moody and his aurors had finally caught up with them, he'd sat within the trial, staring blankly at those who dared to think themselves superior, who dared to think they could judge and understand him. He hadn't been able to stop the knowing smile when the court informed them Frank and Alice would now spend the remainder of their years in St. Mungo's hospital. He'd wandered for many years on his bunk in Azkaban the true extent of the damage he, his wife, brother and little Barty had left, certainly not out of guilt but what many would have considered a horrifying thrill.

With a elegant push he was up from the slouched position in the chair, crossing languidly around the length of the table to stand beside her. Offering a hand to help her up. “It will be dangerous though.” He warned in a patronising manner. “I could always just bring you back pictures... Mrs Lestrange.” He was goading her, if only lightly, even the use of her marital surname a non to subtle declaration of ownership, placing her as any other death eater might their wife, to fragile to be involved in the true action. Of course they both knew that was far from the truth.

[amber2]

That was certainly true. Lucius didn't have the guts it took kill Bellatrix. Actually, Bella was fairly confident that no one really had the guts to kill her. There would definitely be hell to pay for killing Voldemort's right hand woman and the wife of Rodolphus Lestrange, who could be just as cruel and intimidating as the crazy woman herself. Bellatrix might not have loved Rodolphus the way that he wanted her to but she was loyal to him (at least as far as not betraying him went) and the cause. If something happened to Mr. Lestrange, Bellatrix would definitely be on the hunt for whoever had done it and made sure that they suffered the worst pain possible before a slow and painful death preferably with a lot of blood and screaming. She would expect the same of her husband. The woman snorted at his comment, the truth of it seeping through. “That horrid excuse for a man lacks any real defining trait of a Death Eater.” In Bellatrix's mind, that was one of the worst things to say about a person. It was almost like comparing him to Harry Potter. Truly, Bella had more respect for Potter. As much as she detested the boy, at least he stood up and didn't cower in corners waiting to see which side would tip the scale first and join the winning crew. Lucius was one such person. He had gone back to his Ministry position after the first war while loyal Death Eaters were forced to slowly rot away in Azkaban. And he had been incredibly stupid last year at the Ministry in the Department of Secrets. Letting the Prophecy shatter without anyone hearing the thing in its entirety. Bellatrix had laughed at his fortune of ending up in the one place he had avoided for so long... until he was broken out eventually as well. Or paid his way out, Bellatrix didn't have the details and she didn't want them. The fact was that he had a few months where the rest of them had spent years.

Muggle watching wasn't exactly what Bellatrix had in mind for a good time. However, as long as there was a possibility for it to lead to torture, she was on board. She was just itching to get her wand out and have a little fun with someone who wasn't nearly as powerful as she was. It was a form of art, really. The woman mixed physical pain with the right amount of mental torture. Of course, the Cruciatus Curse was a favorite of hers. She had it mastered. The Dark Lord himself had trained her in the art of Dark Magic and she made sure everyone knew that. There was no better instructor. “That sounds like a lovely opportunity to get to know the locals.” Which loosely translated to, I haven't tortured someone in a while. It felt like ages since she had gotten her hands on someone to play with. That's what it was: a game. And Bellatrix Lestrange never lost. Even when they had been sent to prison, she and her group of Death Eaters had tortured enough to make it worth while. They had had their fun. Needless to say, Bellatrix didn't deny that she was one that liked to inflict torture upon someone.

Her face lit up with a mischievous look, her half smile now turning into a wicked grin that to anyone else would have meant hell on earth. She had almost forgotten that they needed to pay a visit to St. Mungo's. Normally, one didn't escape Bellatrix Lestrange or the loyal Death Eaters for that matter. Torture was a game that happened just before the kill. If Bella left anyone alive it was so others would know for sure who had tortured them or it was because she wanted to mess with their mind enough that she could follow them. Then there was her niece, who Bella was planning on messing with just for the sake of it. That was a special case. She'd kill the girl eventually, but for now, she wanted that stupid girl to think she was going to be safe. Silly. No one was safe around Bellatrix Lestrange. Well, almost no one.

“It truly has been far too long since we've seen them,” she agreed. Even if they would have to disguise themselves it would be worth it to see the Longbottoms and how they've “improved” or probably more realistically their lack of improvement. The female counterpart to Mr. Lestrange hadn't missed the quite possessive way he spoke about her. As if Bellatrix Lestrange needed protecting! That in itself was a comical comment. It didn't phase her much. Actually, though Bellatrix wasn't fond of being referred to as having an owner like some smelly old house elf, she was fond of the way Rodolphus wanted to claim her. She knew his personality going into the marriage and even still it was almost like a challenge sometimes. Rodolphus wanted to make it clear that she was his wife, while Bellatrix wanted to make it clear that she was superior. She took his hand and stood to her full height, which wasn't considerable compared to her husband unless you counted the messy mop that sat on top of her head. “I appreciate your concern for me, love.” She smiled, not her cunning or wicked smile but a rather haughty one as she held her head high. “But it would be downright foolish of me to leave my husband to go into such danger without the most well trained Death Eater at his side.” A coy pout ended her statement. Bellatrix Lestrange knew how to use her body and her appearance to her advantage. Mrs. Lestrange was anything but coy. “Shall we go through the Malfoy's potion cabinets then?” She walked almost out of the kitchen before turning to look at her husband.

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His own smile deepened at seeing his plan rewarded with his wife’s dark grin. It had all ever been a game, in that way they were most similar. Players who took their thrills in the chase, the victory. Everything was a game waiting to be won. Be it the intricacies of torture, the cause or people and their fickle relationships. His fellow Slytherin’s back in their school years had often teased and questioned why he continued to pursue (or more antagonistically bicker with) the eldest Black daughter who though undeniably attractive was clearly mentally unstable. Why he’d bother when she continued to refuse him and he was already involved with the far more placid and conventionally pretty Parkinson daughter. But what was the point in playing if the game was too easy? Even then he’d known never to settle for the easy victories.

He gave a derisive snort as she shot that coy little pout and claimed herself the best trained. He’d built an immunity to that pout years ago. Though it still held more of the desired effect then he would care to admit, the half insult mostly lost on him for a moment as he pondered those lips. Damn her. The fact his wife had been chosen to be personally trained by the Dark Lord was an old and bitter sting. Naturally he’d never spoken with the dark lord about it but he’d convinced himself of the actions aims, convinced himself that their lord had known in choosing her above him he would almost instantly turn to the Lestrange library and work himself to the bone. “Well you’d better go fetch him then, my dear.” He shot back cheekily, ready to promptly duck if something came hurling back in his direction.
 
Rodolphus watched her leave for a moment before pushing himself off the table and following. He’d become well acquainted with the Malfoy Manor over the last year, having by now slept in just about every one of the rooms. Since Azkaban the idea of spending his time in the same room repeatedly every day had become distinctly unappealing, rummaging through the Malfoy’s rooms and possessions had provided months of entertainment. With a boyish excitement he took his wife’s hand in his own, leading the way to one of the many storerooms tucked off from the main foyer. The small room was taken up predominantly by a large glass case, a vast collection of vials rotating silently. To his credit he first tried the handle, locked – naturally, it seemed the Malfoy’s were rather suspicious of their house guests having sticky fingers, the lack of trust might have hurt if it wasn’t true. The several portraits of silken haired ancestors stared down in disapproval, though knew better then to voice their displeasure. “You would think they didn’t trust us.” The dry comment was soon followed by the loud smash of several panes of glass dropping to the floor and shattering, his wand hastily shoved back to the pocket. No doubt the lock would have easily opened to a spell or even manual jimmying – but where was the fun in that?
 
Rodolphus Lestrange had ever been a chaos monger, thrilling in upsetting the natural balance, toying with people and their delicate sensibilities. With the ministry still on the hunt he very rarely got the chance to toy with those outside of the manor anymore. He had always understood people, understood the way they thought, what they felt and always taken his sadistic thrill in the games of destroying them piece by piece, perhaps why the imperius curse had always been his favourite. It was a delicate practice, a long lasting torture that could go for years if he so chose, though he grew bored all to quickly and gladly resorted to the easy tactics of the cruciatus curse before he finished them. For the moment he was forced to play with his fellow death eaters, and that required careful footing, it wouldn’t do to have his games disrupting the cause. The Malfoy’s made it all too easy. The broken cabinet was but another small move in his actions around the manor, childishly breaking things, moving important items to different rooms, helping himself to expensive vintages, leaving large volumes of alcohol in the easily accessible reach of their teenage son. They were foolish pointless games that kept him vaguely entertained on the dull sleepless evenings.
 
Elegantly stepping over the broken glass, long white fingertips came to run over the vials carefully, several ending up in his pockets before he finally emerged with the bottle neatly labelled ‘polyjuice’. Unstopping it he took a suspicious sniff before seeming to decide it was what it claimed and holding it up to Bella in victory. It wouldn’t be hard to find two of the medic’s outside the building and dispatch of them. “Shall we?” 

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[amber2]

The desire to get out of the Manor was only increased by the thought of returning to the Longbottoms. It was a dangerous plan. Even with the use of polyjuice potion the would be risking a lot. The torture of the Longbottoms had been part of what landed them a life sentence in the wizard prison. It wasn't the only thing that had gotten them to that point – they had been (and still were) loyal Death Eaters, something to be feared among anyone, wizard or muggle. It was, however, one of the more risky things they had done, because after finding out that the couple knew nothing, they continued to torture them knowing fully well that they could be caught. And they were. Still. Bellatrix at least regretted nothing. Her time in the damned prison meant little to her. In fact, it had probably made her all the more frightening. She was already mad when she went into it and after coming out, she was even more insane. The prison had affected her, but it hadn't been one that Bellatrix couldn't live with.

Yes, everything was just a game. A game that the Lestrange couple usually won at. They were about evenly matched when it came to this particular game though, which was something that Bellatrix found both irritating and intriguing. Her husband wanted to claim her as his and she was just as stubborn to remind him that while she had taken his last name, it certainly didn't tie her down to anything. This game was part of what had drawn her to the idea of their relationship. When added to the fact that they would be keeping the bloodline pure, the fact that Bella would never grow bored of her dear husband was something to be treasured... if Bellatrix could genuinely treasure anything. The teasing, the snappy comments – they were all part of this wondrous game that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had found themselves in. It was part of their marriage. Like his comment about fetching the Dark Lord. As if their Lord could be summoned for something like this. Well, she supposed technically he could, but he wouldn't be too entirely happy with it. The comment was designed to get under her skin and if she hadn't known that, she might have fallen into the trap. It was a reminder that The Dark Lord not only didn't care for her the way she wanted him to, but couldn't. Not that you could talk Bellatrix out of believing that it was still possible that he could want her the way she wanted him someday. She wasn't just loyal, she was a fanatic.

“I think this specific trip would be best left for just the two of us.” She would have included the others that had tortured the Longbottoms with them, but her lack of mentioning them was for two reasons. Firstly, if a bunch of people walked into St. Mungos, it would look suspicious. Secondly, though she might not love her husband, Bellatrix did find that spending time with him wasn't horrible. At the very least, Rodolphus Lestrange was a friend and ally. Instead of going into more about the Dark Lord, Bella walked with her husband to the place where the Malfoys held the majority of their potions. It was lucky, really, that there had already been some polyjuice made up. It would take far too long to make it themselves and Bella was ready to go now. She noted that the cabinet was, indeed, locked. Rodolphus had one thing right: the Malfoys didn't trust them. Or, Lucius didn't trust them. That would be a better statement. Bellatrix had known her sister to only not trust her once – when she had insisted on ignoring Bellatrix's warnings about telling Snape what Draco was supposed to do.

In Bellatrix's mind, Draco should consider the task an honor. If he died in the process, it would be an honorable death. But Bellatrix had already agreed to train Draco up a bit and now that Snape had made the unbreakable vow, there was really no worry that Mrs. Lestrange's nephew would meet an undesired fate. The wife of Mr. Lestrange watched as the glass of the cabinet was broken and the appropriate potion was removed. She smirked but took out her wand and without saying a word, magically made the pieces of glass fit back together. Lucius might be intollerable, but Cissy was still her sister and someone that had without question allowed them to stay in her home. Fixing the glass was a softer side of Bellatrix that few people were granted the opportunity to see. Not only was she saving Cissy from having to fix it herself, but she was in a sense protecting Rodolphus from getting caught. She couldn't be completely hard all the time. She trusted her husband enough that she would do this in front of him, but that didn't mean she loved him.

He held up the potion as if it were some sort of award. Really, it sort of was. The two might get to leave the Manor now and then but it was more or less just a less strict version of prison. “Yes, let's go before someone walks in and decides to tag along.” She smiled and headed for the door, grabbing her dark cloak on the way out. Until they found two healers, they would have to hide who they were. Bellatrix was definitely noticeable to anyone if she wasn't all but covered completely head to toe. She would have apparated right there, but they would still have to be covered in order to get to the medics in the first place.

[Deleted]

Rodolphus watched as she repaired the potion cabinet with an arched eyebrow. A rare sight of compassion he knew few others would be privileged enough to see. No doubt for her sister. Though why she bothered he didn't truly understand. He had no idea how those two were actually siblings. It seemed only apt Narcissa had married into the Malfoy's – she'd been as good as one of them to begin with. Had his own brother behaved in such a cowardly way, lied and crawled back to the ministry grovelling after the dark lords fall, or even stood by a spouse as they did so – he'd have seen them erased from his family line with his own hands. He supposed one traitor sister in the Black family had been enough. The fallout from that one had been rather spectacular. Had it been anyone else he would have pointed out this weak point, may have even laughed cruelly. But in this matter he'd already chosen the easiest route was to remain silent.

The Malfoy's would not be a problem for much longer. Lucius had seen to that. His son would soon be dead and once the dark lord had tired of watching their torture the elder Malfoy would not be far behind. He had not informed his wife of his thoughts on Draco's 'mission'. A suicide mission clearly aimed to punish Lucius for his incompetence and past treachery. Had the Dark Lord wished Dumbledore dead he had other more efficient routes at his disposal, Snape who sat adored and trusted by the old coot, Colden a trained death eater walking the schools halls, even Slughorn had taken to Hogwarts a man almost any of them could have easily impersonated after his many years of Slytherin head of house. To send a teenager to do a mans job was foolishness and they all knew the dark lord was no fool.

The idea she had might have fixed the cabinet for his own protection never crossed his mind. Rodolphus was not the type of man who had people that would want to protect him. He knew he held a privileged position with Bellatrix, had seen her in weakened states, had seen her upset and angered. She more then anyone had seen him in states he wouldn’t usually show in public, seen him in the rare moments he was losing at his games, seen the fits when he lost his temper, seen him weakened and broken after battle. If there was any semblance of normality to their marriage it was the level of trust they held for the other. Rodolphus trusted Bellatrix with his life, certainly he wasn’t stupid enough to try that out when she had lost her temper, but if he needed someone to keep a secret she was his first port of call. He wasn't blind he knew while he held a privileged position with Bellatrix she didn't love him, certainly not in the way he wished her to. And in truth perhaps if she had he would have bored of her years ago. The thrill had always been in the chase and he had yet to get tired of it even after over twenty years, probably the clearest sign of his own special brand of insanity. It had always been obvious to him at least that Bella was the only one he could stand to have as a wife. Regardless of who they might have ended up with, neither of them were built for a functional relationship. They both sought the unattainable.

Pocketing the vial he followed through the manor, grabbing his own cloak on route. He didn't need the absolute coverage his wife required, his 'wanted' posters still showed a gaunt man sporting a beard, so long as he kept to the shadows and didn't draw attention to himself people didn't notice what was directly infront of them. His wife on the other hand was far too conspicuous for that rule to apply. Who in the wizarding world wouldn’t recognise Bellatrix Lestrange, it was a matter of both pride and resentment for her husband.

He waited until they were past the Malfoy’s gate and wards, before taking her arm lightly and stepping infront of her. If there was anything that made him glad to have those Lestrange tall genes it was the slight bonus it gave him when addressing Bellatrix. Raising his wand he shot her a mischievous smirk, watching for any reaction on her behalf before quickly tapping the bridge of her nose with a light ‘clonk’. The magic took it’s hold soon enough, her features sinking and changing ever so slightly, enough that from a distance she would not be recognised, but like any simple concealing magic it would not last for long and anyone that truly looked would spot the odd resemblances. “Hummm… I think I prefer this.” He teased with a sarcastic purr as he surveyed his work.

With the familiarity of old lovers he wrapped his arms around her waist, apperating with a light pop. It had been far too long since the two of them had, had a reason to get out of the mansion and have abit of fun. And there was no denying that when the two of them sought fun they always found it. It was a stupidly dangerous endeavour, St. Mungo’s was always filled with Ministry officials on business and their presence to see the Longbottoms may even have been expected by the more adapt of their aurors – like one Alastor Moody. A dare devil part of his mind hoped the old auror would be there waiting – he owed that one for his capture and those 14 years in Azkaban.

They landed a few seconds later, confronted with the looming outside of the huge hospital. He surveyed his surroundings quickly. Attempting to take two medics inside the fortress would land them a one way ticket back to Azkaban he was sure, he had the feeling any offensive magic would be picked up instantly and sound an alarm. Their best hope was for someone coming or leaving a shift. Spotting a service alleyway tucked down the side of the oddly shaped building, he nodded towards it to his wife. Positioning themselves near the entrance and feigning the appearance of a ‘normal’ couple in conversation shouldn’t be too hard, the heavy rain would exclude most of the visibility from any that could be watching and the alleyway would provide perfect cover to see their work done.

He watched as the very occasional visitor, larger groups of medics and patients passed them, almost failing in keeping the sneer from his face. Muggleborns, squibs, filth taking advantage of magic that was not theirs to heal them. “These filth…” He mumbled under his breath to his wife in disgust. “It won’t be long now, after all those years of waiting… soon we won’t ever have to look at them again.” He promised with a hollow smile that echoed he was willing to do anything at all to ensure that promise became a reality. A flash of color caught his attention, his eyes darting up the cobblestone street to two figures in purple medics robes. Perfect. “After you my dear.” He gestured with an exaggerated bow, clearly enjoying himself. The idea that he should feel guilt about what was going to befall these two random medics even if they turned out to be purebloods or halfbloods failed to register in the eldest Lestrange who had never felt guilt over anything.

[amber2]

Bella was well aware that the task assigned to Draco was meant to kill him, but she personally still thought this particular task was an honor. Anyway, Draco wouldn't be completely defenseless. His goal was to get a few more Death Eaters into the school without being detected. If they needed to, they could do the rest. Not to mention the fact that Bellatrix herself was teaching her nephew the art of protecting his mind. Wouldn't it be just lovely if Draco accomplished his task! He'd be much better for it. Surely they could think of some other way to torment little Lucy. Bella didn't see what her sister saw in Lucius Malfoy. The man was a coward, definitely not Death Eater material. Still, she had to clean up the mess her husband made. Not for Lucy, but because Narcissa was her sister and because she didn't need the Malfoys to go and kick the two of them out. Not that they could if they wanted to, but she was sure Lucius would try to find some way to get the Lestranges out of his manor. If she was allowed back at her house, she'd love nothing more than to have her residence play host to loyal Death Eaters. Admittedly, she'd want Lucius nowhere near her residence. He was weak and she didn't like to be around weak people.

Damn him and his height. Bellatrix wasn't short, but she wasn't six foot tall, though if you counted the ratty mess on top of her head she came close. Still, she had to actually look up slightly to see her husband face to face if they were standing as close as they were. That was something that she didn't particularly like. It was difficult to manage looking fierce and being shorter than the person you wanted to control, but Bellatrix managed to hold her own next to Rodolphus somehow. Perhaps it was because she was so mentally unstable and people were just afraid of what she might do next.

Rodolphus was the exact opposite of Lucius. Bella's husband was no coward and he was certainly loyal to their cause. He'd gone to Azkaban with her to prove his loyalty, something that Lucius only had done when he'd gotten caught in the Ministry with a few other Death Eaters. His failure is what had gotten his son in the situation he was currently in, but Bellatrix was convinced that with a little training Draco would do just fine. She had high hopes for her nephew. Despite the fact that Bellatrix knew Mr. Lestrange would curse someone if he felt like it, she was still convinced that he wanted her, so there was no flinching when her husband pulled out a wand and tapped her on the nose. There was, however, a bit of a glare at his comment. Bellatrix liked the way she looked.

Her head tilted in one sharp movement and then leaned in close, standing on the tips of her toes and intentionally invading his personal space, intending for the action to be both teasingly flirty and threatening. “If you dislike the way I look perhaps you should have married another woman.” Of course, she knew that her husband desired her, so there was really no threat in saying those words. He'd been after her for some time and even though they were married, she still hadn't exactly been won. To make matters more complicated, it was universally known that she fancied The Dark Lord. As quickly as she'd gotten close she pulled just far enough away that they were still close enough that he could wrap his arms around her, but far enough that it was evident their lips would not meet.

Letting Rodolphus take the lead on this was sort of interesting. This, too, was a game. How long could it go before she had to step in. There had been few situations where Bellatrix was not in charge, at least when they weren't with The Dark Lord. Bellatrix was a natural leader, partially because she was so crazy that no one wanted to challenge her. She quite agreed with his statement about the filth that walked in and out of the wizard hospital. It shouldn't be used for just anyone. It belonged to witches and wizards. Pure blooded families. Not muggle borns and squibs. They should go to a muggle hospital and stop taking what was special about magical families.

Two medics. Bellatrix didn't need Rodolphus to point them out, she was watching as eagerly as he was for a chance to get inside the hospital without being noticed. She hated to admit it, but his little concealing charm had probably just come in handy, because after his dramatic bow, Bellatrix was off, wand at her side and darting through the street and to the medics. She was just itching to torture someone, but she couldn't risk being noticed in the street. Of course, when she got up to the two people in question, it would be clear to them who she was. So from a little distance away, she pointed her wand and murmured the Imperious Curse, forcing them to walk down a dark alley that would be easy enough to play without being noticed.

The idea of playing with the medics and getting into the hospital to play with the Longbottoms were fighting back and forth within the woman's head. Obviously, she wanted to leave her mark on these two, but time was important. For all they knew, these two were on a break and were meant to be back inside within a few minutes. Still, the Imperious Curse could be fun. Instead of having to steal their clothes, they'd just hand them over to the Lestranges. “We should hurry if we want to get in there. Where's the potion?” She thought she recalled him slipping it into his robes, but she had no patience for waiting at the moment.

[Deleted]

Rodolphus lingered behind as she shot off towards the two blissfully unaware medics. Watching with interest to see what she was going to do. While he might be one of the few who knew her best, Bella’s actions were still often unpredictable even to him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d butchered them in the street in full view and he’d been forced to go collect her before they were spotted. But this time her choice was simple and elegant, for a change. He thought with a dry smirk.

Seeing his wife’s infatuation for their master had been… difficult. He for a change had been behind everyone else in seeing it. Rodolphus was not a man who lost. He might be set back, might have to rearrange plans but he never lost. Bella being in love with the Dark Lord would have been a final end game. He’d sunk for some time into an angry depression (though most had not guessed what over, Rodolphus falling into weeks of brooding silence was not unknown in the slightest) before pulling himself back and ‘manning up’. Convincing himself that his wife’s attentions were mere infatuation. She was a woman attracted to darkness and power, of course she would be besotted. He’d convinced himself that his wife was not capable of love and such fleeting ties, and if she had been it would have been reserved for him who had always been there at her side. It was a lie that made him sleep better at night.

Rodolphus watched with amusement as she made their two victims strip and hand their clothes over neatly. The imperius curse had always been his forte, his thing. He changed without a hint of prudish hesitation. He had always been proud of his body and though he still stood skinnier then he would have liked, he no longer resembled that half dead walking skeleton mess of ribs and skin the emaciation of Azkaban had brought less then a year ago.

She turned to him with that excited gaze most others, even fellow death eaters may have found deeply disturbing, though he found exhilarating and demanded to know where the potion was. For a moment he pondered toying with her, gasping and lying that he had given it to her earlier just to see if she would explode. But time was of the essence and poking Bella’s temper would only bring unnecessary attention despite how fun it was. “Calm yourself dear, I’ve got it.” He settled for a derogatory tone, holding up the two vials for her reassurance.

Without even looking at his victims he lazily flicked his wand in their direction, the two hitting the wall at the back of the alley with a sickening crunch before falling as solid as stone to the floor. Giving his wife the privacy to change languid strides brought the eldest Lestrange to his victim’s side, leaning down and unceremoniously ripping out several strands of hair, uncorking a vial and adding it before repeating the process. He didn’t bother to check whether they had survived the impact, they would be out for plenty long enough if they weren’t dead. Their survival was not necessarily to their detriment, let them be found later and admit who had attacked them. Let the Ministry see their enemies could be anywhere and everywhere, even the sanctuary where they kept their sick and wounded. For now he cast a simple concealing charm that would keep them unnoticed, least some moron find them and start the alarms.

He handed his wife one of the vials, with a shake staring at his own vial now filled with a slimy liquid that had taken on a rather vibrant blue hue, somewhat reluctantly he downed it in one. It was sickeningly sweet. “A kiss while I’m still pretty?” He inquired, shooting that ever egotistical smile. He was soon doubled over, clutching his stomach as an all too familiar fire spread from his stomach out, across his shoulders and down to his fingertips. Fucking polyjuice potion. When he finally straightened himself Rodolphus Lestrange was gone replaced with a young man easily only just out of his teens face still marked with a slight spray of acne, a face that naturally fell to a small shy smile. The death eater bounced on the spot for a moment, adjusting to the temporary body, it seemed brimming with energy and stamina, damn he needed to be twenty again.

“Your turn dear.” The confidence of the words spoken just seemed bizarre as they escaped with a nervous, squeak of a voice. Looking rather alike he’d escaped the mental health ward of St. Mungo’s himself he ruffled the sandy hair that fell around his shoulders and into his face annoyingly, gnashing his teeth and stretching his fingers. He promptly decided he hated the owner of this body. The slight sadistic glen in his now blue eyes seemed completely out of place as he waited for his wife to drink the potion. He pondered how best to diplomatically approach what he needed to say next without getting himself cursed. “Once we're inside… let me do the talking.” Well that failed. Very tactful Roddy. Bella had always made it difficult to be diplomatic around. He didn’t doubt his wife’s intelligence, nor her ability to be surreptitious if required but… well he wasn’t entirely convinced her reaction would remain in character if a mudblood attempted to speak, or worse touch her, though he supposed she may surprise him. She did frequently.

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[amber2]

[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-image: url(http://i1259.photobucket.com/albums/ii541/amberellamae/things/otherbackgroundthing.png); padding: 10px; border-radius: 60px,bTable][cs=2] 'cause i'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,border: 0px solid 525252;]	[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][rs=7][atrb=width,350px,true][atrb=height,400px,true][atrb=style, vertical-align: top;background-color: #554660; overflow: auto; padding: 10px; border-radius: 25px;] As she preformed the Imperius Curse with what might have been one of the more silent tactics Bellatrix Lestrange would ever use, the woman couldn't help but wonder if the Dark Lord would approve of this little outing. She didn't think he'd mind as long as they were careful about it. In fact, he might enjoy the idea of the Lestranges getting out and causing a little mayhem. Of course, that was speculation on her part. She couldn't really know how the Dark Lord would feel about the two of them vising their old friends the Longottoms. These were the people that the Lestranges had been put in Azkaban for torturing. Surely their Lord would love nothing more than for them to pay a visit to the people who had sent them into that horrid prison. The thought only crossed her mind for a moment. Bellatrix wasn't overly concerned with what people thought of her, but she did think from time to time that maybe if she acted a certain why the Dark Lord would figure out how much he really needed her. The Imperius Curse wasn't her specialty. That would have been the Cruciatus Curse. Bellatrix loved torture took a great deal of pride in how she used the torture curse. She was known for torturing people to get information or just for the fun of it before she killed them or tortured them into insanity (as their little group had done to Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom years ago). Still, she knew how to use the Imperius Curse and she used it well. It was effortless to make the couple turn over their clothes. A small smirk played on her face as the two undressed and handed over their work clothes. Those would do nicely. An eyebrow arched as her husband took off his clothes and changed into the unknown male's. She might not have loved Rodolphus but he was attractive, she wouldn't deny that. She wouldn't have had a problem undressing in front of her husband. Bellatrix was like Mr. Lestrange in that way – rather fond of her own body and not shy in exposing it at all. Her usual robes made that apparent as they clung in all the right places. Still, she unlaced her dress as Rodolphus took care of the two medics. Watching her husband work was, undeniably, fun. That was another thing the two had in common. Their passion for destroying unworthy lives matched the others. The female's clothes hung a little loosely on her body. They reminded Bellatrix of the Azkaban uniform and she felt like she might be sick, though she didn't let her distaste show. She felt almost like she was drowning in the woman's clothes, though they looked fine on her, maybe just a little too large. Admittedly, the Azkaban clothes were much more loose than these, but they still made her long for her own robes. Perhaps she would feel better once she no longer looked like herself. The woman she was going to be wasn't hideous, nor was she really overweight. It was just that Bella's body had more curves and she was still slightly starved from her years spent in the wizarding prison. She had almost growled her her husband's tone before when he assured her he had the potion. Now she was eager to take it though and almost yanked her small portion from his hand and added the hair of the female healer. The color turned a dark pink. Disgusting, really. Bella actually considered giving him a kiss while he was still pretty, but instead she smirked and drank her own potion after watching her husband's transformation and hearing his odd new voice telling her it was her turn. Her own body mimicked his and doubled over. She refused to cry out though she could feel her body, her bones, changing. It wasn't exactly pain free. She had endured worse, though, and when the transformation was over she stood up and held out her arms, examining her new body. Bellatrix Lestrange was now a slightly taller, blonde haired woman with tanned skin. Her age was early to late twenties and she looked like she'd spent most of her time at a beach. How someone this young had attained a medical license was beyond the cruel woman, but it would nonetheless get her through the door. There was a badge on her clothes and she read the words that were upside down to her. “Melanie Burgle.” She looked at her husband and made a face partially at the sound of the name and partially because her voice was now much higher and had the tone of someone a little on the ditsy side. “She sounds so entertaining.” The hazel eyes that looked out from Bellatrix's new face were full of anger now. Let him do the talking! Bellatrix was more than capable of speaking to people, though she might want to curse them into the next town. “We'll see,” she replied, pocketing her wand and reaching for her husband's arm. The two healers had looked close, if they walked in looking repelled by each other, people might grow suspicious. “Let's get in to see our friends. We might not have much time.”
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: 554660; border-radius: 10px;] WORDS: 881 TAG: roddy NOTES: sorry it's kind of short and all blah - - - - - CREDIT: I made this thing so don't steal please.

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tag: bellatrix // words: 1412 // notes: --

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[style=height: 400px; overflow: auto; font-family: verdana; line-height: 11px; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #ffffff; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 0px;] Rodolphus watched as his wife transformed, when she finally stood back up again he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of her new tanned form and the ditsy lost quality to her voice. Ah the wonders of polyjuice potion. Her eyes promptly filled with that all to familiar anger at his suggestion of who should do the talking, oh that was Bella alright. His hand twitched for a split second towards his wand. Just in case. Fights in the Lestrange household had once been legendary, the two knowing full well how to poke and prod the other until they lost their temper, sharp words were exchanged, words transformed to yelling, screaming and wands were drawn. The décor had often suffered the brunt of it. For a moment he considered pushing the matter and promptly decided against it, time was of the essence. He glanced as the strangers arm looped with his own, watching her from the side of his vision with an interest. It wasn’t that the Lestrange’s were not physical, but simple coupley motions like holding hands or looping arms, movements that would be common place in any usual marriage were mostly unheard of between them. He allowed her, her independence as she did his, he didn’t need an arm constantly draped over her to state his claim. The feeling against his own new, foreign skin was rather strange though not all unpleasant. The two ‘medics’ made their way to the entrance. As he had always remembered it St. Mungo’s was packed, filled with the milling sick and wounded as staff rushed to and fro. He was careful to keep his eyes set dead forward, pausing and allowing himself to become enraged at the scum that deemed themselves good enough to use this place would be highly detrimental. They went mostly unnoticed through the crowds save one or two of the staff nodding or waving as they went past. They were far to distracted to notice anything out of sorts in their colleagues. So few people noticed what was right beneath their nose if it didn’t seem out of the ordinary. Working his way through the crowds, careful not to touch anyone if it could be avoided he finally located a quieter corner. Rasping his wand against one of the empty white boards, the floor plan flew up to plain view, floor two – no that was diseases, floor three, poisoning, ah floor four, spell damage including the long term residence Janus Thickey Ward – bingo. Taking ‘Melanie’s’ arm once more he led them through the crowds, quite certain that the longer time they stayed in the crowded room the more likely it was something would go wrong. Stepping into one of the rickety lifts, filled with all manner of leavers and cords he turned to the young man stood at his right who looked a rather putrid shade of green. “Four… please.” He remembered to add the last word though it still came out slightly strained a word mostly unused in his vocabulary. In what had long become an automatic paranoid response the moment a hand landed on his shoulder, Rodolphus own shot to the pocket containing his wand. Whirling around he found an elderly medic watching him with concerned eyes. ‘Shouldn’t you be up on floor two Robbie?’ Rodolphus assumed he must be Robbie, taking a quick glance at the front of his robes to confirm it. “New orders, they need help up on four.” He tried his best to keep that shy element to his voice, to keep his eyes downcast instead of staring down the other man as he would have anyone else. The old man knew something was wrong. ‘I didn’t know you two were trained in that, hey there Melanie.’ Rodolphus had to bite his tongue from laughing at the warm, fatherly look shot towards his wife. “They just need some extra hands.” He kept it short, the more they talked, the more likely they were to be noticed. The old mans eyes turned back to him, filled with suspicion, knowledge that something was wrong, thankfully it seemed he couldn’t quite place what it was that was worrying him so. ‘Alright then… well get back down to floor two when you’re finished.’ “Sure.” He knew without needing the older man to say a word that he was doing something wrong, wasn’t boisterous or shy enough. Was behaving in some manner that was noticeably different from the sandy haired man who lay tucked down the alleyway outside. ‘Are you alright Robbie? Hows your mum doing?’ A cold steel ran through the death eaters chest, an all too familiar sensation of a trap closing around him. Work it out Rodolophus! He chastised himself darkly. “Better… thank you.” As if by divine intervention the lift gave a sharp jolt to the left and came to a stop with a ‘bing’. Any suspicions from the old man were promptly forced to the back of his mind it seemed when he stepped out with the now almost emerald patient to a bustling corridor filled with the waiting sick. The eldest Lestrange released the long withheld breath in a loud sigh as the gates snapped shut once again, leaving just the two of them in the lift. “I really hate polyjuice potion.” He informed his wife for what was certainly not the first time. How many missions had been compromised by the fickle potion running out early or bystanders noticing out of character behaviours? No the imperius curse was the route to use for infiltration anyday, but this little visit required a more… personal touch. He focused on that thought for a moment, the idea of visiting their dear friends once more removing perhaps the more sensible intact part of his mind that informed him loudly this was to risky. Azkaban was not the place to fear it once was now the dementors had left, though he somehow doubted their master would be pleased to have to free them once more. With another jerk the lift came to a shuddering halt with a bing. Floor four. Show time. Their night spent with the Longbottoms had long become one of infamy, heralded as one of the utmost atrocious acts of the war. Rodolphus fondly remembered it as some of his finest work. It had become clear soon enough the two had no idea where their lord could be found and while little Barty had grasped his arm and insisted they should leave, just kill them now and leave the three Lestrange’s had chosen otherwise. He could still vividly remember the screams, the blood, the sobbing and begging as everything they had been was replaced by the pain, as they started to forget their own names and lose all sense. Even when sat in his own trail he hadn’t been able to stop the smile when the prosecutor reported Frank and Alice would never recover, would remain locked in their deranged minds for as long as they lived. A lasting torture that didn’t even require them to be present. Rodolphus needed to see it. Needed to view it with his own eyes, see the two who had resulted in their imprisonment locked away just as permanently in their own minds and remind them who it was who had put them there. His heart beat quickened, thumping loudly in his ears as they stepped quickly down the painfully white hallways, filled with that smell only a hospital had, the strange meld of clean and decay. The eldest Lestrange finally came to a stop at the sight of two large white doors, thick black lettering above the door reading ‘The Janus Thickey Ward’. His face lit up, alike a child who had just received that years birthday and Christmas presents in one large pile and promised all the more to come. A surge of adrenalin tensing every muscle in anticipation. The door was locked naturally to stop the inmates taking a wonder, though nothing a simple spell couldn’t work through, no doubt they didn’t expect anyone would be visiting such hopeless cases with any mal-intent, or expected to much of themselves to spot those who intended harm. He tugged one of the large doors open, resisting the urge to sprint ahead and have his fun. He had waited fifteen years to see the results of his work, what was another few minutes. Holding the door open he allowed his wife the privilege of going first.

[/td][/tr][/table][/style][/style]template by eliza @ shadowplay[/center]

[amber2]

[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-image: url(http://i1259.photobucket.com/albums/ii541/amberellamae/things/otherbackgroundthing.png); padding: 10px; border-radius: 60px,bTable][cs=2] 'cause i'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,border: 0px solid 525252;]	[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][rs=7][atrb=width,350px,true][atrb=height,400px,true][atrb=style, vertical-align: top;background-color: #554660; overflow: auto; padding: 10px; border-radius: 25px;] This body was absolutely horrible. Bellatrix wanted out of it as soon as possible, but that desire was quickly squashed by the realization that they were one step closer to getting inside the wizard hospital. One day soon the hospital would be for only proper witches and wizards. Not the sorry excuses that it held now. But they were supposed to be laying low – something Bella obviously had a problem with. She would have done anything for her Dark Lord, but asking her to sit in a building after being trapped in a prison (not just any prison, but Azkaban!) was just too much. She needed air. And fun. Torturing the Longbottoms again was going to be the most fun she'd had in several years. Still, she couldn't wait to get out of this bimbo's body. It was such a shame she couldn't visit the people who were responsible for sending her to Azkaban in her own body. She wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom would even recognize her if she were herself. The people inside the hospital would know though. Bella was way too recognizable as herself. Another very recognizable part of Bella was her wand, now safely tucked inside of the new clothes though she wanted to reach for it when her husband in the stranger's body seemed to go for his. But it looked as though they both knew that time was short and they needed to get into that building. They could duel later. She let her husband lead her into the building and figure out how to get to where they needed to go, mostly because she wanted to see if he could do it without her help, but partially because she wanted to look around. If they needed to make some sort of quick getaway and were somehow incapable of apparating, Bellatrix wanted to know all of the ways out. It had been a while since visiting the hospital. Long before Azkaban even. It wasn't until someone spoke to them that she realized that maybe letting Rodolphus do the leading wasn't such a great idea. Until then it had been a bit entertaining – watching him take charge. Normally she would have insisted that she be the one to take control of the situation, but she had wanted to get their exits down anyway. Now it was clear that something had gone wrong. And on top of that, it seemed like Rodolphus wasn't really managing a tone that whoever's body he'd taken would have used. She gave the older man a smile, one that wouldn't have felt right on her own face, a friendly one, but it felt like this face had done this action several times over. “Hello.” She hoped that the ditzy tone of her voice that she hated so much would save them here. The way he looked at her made her want to vomit, but perhaps if she could play her part well enough, there would be no need for him to call anyone to check up on them once they reached four. “Let me do the talking,” she mumbled, quoting Rodolphus as the man exited the elevator, thankful now that it was just the two of them again. “Lot of good that did us. Let's do this thing before he decides we looked to suspicious.” She glared at him when he gave his comment about the potion. “This was your idea. Besides, it's better than sitting around waiting for something to happen.” Her lips twitched up into a slight smirk as they reached their destined floor. They were getting closer. Victory was just within their reach. Just a little fun. That's all Bellatrix wanted. Just something out of the ordinary life that had become hers when she moved in with her sister. Bella loved Cissy more than anyone could possibly imagine Bellatrix was capable of, but the house was just boring. How much long lasting damage had the Lestranges and their group actually caused the Longbottoms so many years ago? Bellatrix was almost jumping she was so anxious. To her surprise, her husband let her through first. She, too, was tempted to run and find the two people they had so completely messed up. Just a little while longer. Their victims weren't far away now. Just to make sure no one was paying much attention to them, Bella glanced around her every now and then before they got to the appropriate (and unfortunate) patients. She couldn't help the demented look that came from her eyes. Bellatrix might be in the form of someone else, but she was still Mrs. Lestrange. Immediately she was filled with disgust at the two people lying in the room, looking dreadfully happy to be in their prison. The only comfort was knowing that they wouldn't have chosen to live their lives like this and that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had forced them into this pretend happy prison. “Time to have a little fun, dear.” Though the voice was the same as the girl's body, there was an edge of crazed longing that filled it. This was what they'd come for.
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: 554660; border-radius: 10px;] WORDS: 861 TAG: roddy NOTES: --- - - - - - CREDIT: I made this thing so don't steal please.

[Deleted]

[style=width: 420px; background: #121212; color: #465945; font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic; text-align: center; font-size: 48px; letter-spacing: -4px; line-height: 60px; padding-bottom: 4px; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; opacity: 0.8;]CHEMICAL SMILES

tag: bellatrix // words: 1197 // notes: creepy lestranges are damn creepy, think i'll ask mr. liam to step in after your next post

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[style=height: 400px; overflow: auto; font-family: verdana; line-height: 11px; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #ffffff; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 10px 0px;] With all the maturity of a ten year old boy Rodolphus loitered a few steps behind his wife, mimicking her vocal complaints in exaggerated silence. He bit back the automatic response of 'I would like to see you do better,' they could argue that out at home. Though in this case even he had to admit she may well have done, a flutter of the eyelashes, a warm smile – ways his wife no doubt knew how to utilise to get her way. Pouting wasn't exactly something he could use in the same way. He supposed she was right, this was better then waiting around the manor for something, anything to happen and entertain them. He certainly hadn't imagined on his freedom from Azkaban he would merely be confined to another prison. A nicer one certainly but a prison none the less. The eldest Lestrange had failed miserably in keeping to his new cell, within days becoming horrifically stir crazy, pacing the length of the manor and the grounds in countless circles, the miles of acres might have soothed anyone else but just the knowledge it had been keenly suggested he was meant (though not ordered) to stay there and keep a low profile was maddening. He'd long taken to a circle of vanishing from the manor for the comfort of knockturn alley or to stay at his brother's cottage, though it didn't take long for the two Lestrange's to come close to killing one another. To be away from his usual haunt, to be out and seeking his entertainment after so long of keeping a low profile, of sticking to the shadows unseen was intoxicating. He stepped into the ward after his wife, tugging the door behind him closed, a lazy flick of his wand causing a resounding click as the door bolted it's self heavily. He didn't much fancy being disturbed. The smile that crossed 'Robbie's' features was nothing short of terrifying. A wide toothy grin, eyes lit up like fairy lights, filled with a frighteningly maniacal glee the eldest Lestrange was usually so very good at hiding. He stepped into the pure white room eyes scanning over it's occupants. Most lay in their beds, staring up at the ceiling with soulless empty eyes, a few rocked backwards and forwards mumbling incoherently to themselves. A ward of lost cases where nothing could be done but make them comfortable. The knowledge that he had put two of the very best aurors here sent shivers of delight down his spine. None turned their eyes on the two new arrivals, to lost in their own minds to so much as notice them, not even their two intended victims. The last he had seen of Frank and Alice Longbottom the two had been gibbering balls on their tiled kitchen floor. Almost every inch of white covered in dark crimson, fickle Rodolphus all to easily growing bored of the cruciatus curse, preferring to leave that to his wife's expertise and finding more inventive ways to deliver his torture alongside the agony Bellatrix was so talented at providing. There'd been so strong at the start. The renowned auror's that had darkened their door steps and every move throughout the war. Hours later there was nothing left of the two curled to the floor, so incoherent in their pain and insanity they couldn't even remember their own names yet alone how to beg for the death that would release them. These two patients were not how he had remembered them, or even as he might have expected. Their hair now grey wisps, bodies once intensively primed in training weak, decayed. And the eyes, dead eyes that seemed almost turned in on themselves, glassy to the outside world and it's confusions. Broken beyond all repair. Rodolphus couldn't remember a time he had found something so deeply satisfying. The Longbottoms lay broken. The Ministry's protege's screwed into a ball and tossed to the corner like a broken relic. The Ministry had tried so desperately to break him and his family, had almost succeeded. But here he stood above his victims once more, watching them in their sadder then death state as strong as he had ever been. “Don't break them to quickly darling.” He passed his wife with a shot of that sickening grin, a kiss pressed to her cheek as he allowed himself a moment to indulge in her. Remarking that even in another's body she looked utterly beautiful to him in that moment, that crazed tone he knew so well ringing in the sickeningly sweet voice of her stolen body, her eyes more alive then he could remember seeing them since before Azkaban. This had been a good idea. Leaving the girls to reacquaint themselves he came to the side of Frank Longbottoms pristine white bed. With a smile that could easily be misconstrued as tender Rodolphus crouched at the side of the bed. “Hello Frank.” There was not even a flicker of recognition in the man who had once put up such a gallant show. For a moment Rodolphus desperately wished for the polyjuice potion to wear off, sod their escape route they could fight their way out. Desperately longed to look at this man with his own eyes, for his victim to see his face once again, to see his eyes and know who he was. With all the creepyness the Lestrange family was long renowned for he reached across the small curled figure of Frank Longbottom, a hand on the pillow behind his neck, blocking a escape route, not that it seemed likely his victim had anything left to even understand he was in danger. His free hand came to brush his victims grey hair from his face. Here he was, the man who had resulted in his fifteen years of imprisonment. Oh what the Ministry, what Dumbledore would say if they could see him so close once again. No he wouldn't kill the helpless couple. No matter how satisfying the idea of leaving their blood splattered torn bodies to be found was appealing. That in this situation would be a mercy. He'd merely remind them of what and who had put them here. There were some things he was sure even the truly insane would recognise. Pain had to be one of them. With a elegant plunge he withdrew his wand from the stolen robes. “It's been a long time.” Rodolphus spoke quietly to his victim, as if greeting an old friend after many years. “Apparently you won't remember me. Apparently you don't remember much of anything.” A disappointment and a victory all at once. He had hoped the two would remember their evening together, had hoped the memory would haunt them every waking moment. But this prison of the mind was something more wickedly magnificent then he had dared dream. “But I think you'll remember this.” The calm demeanour he usually kept in place so perfectly was well and truly smashed on the floor, face contorted in a cheek splitting cheshire cat grin, eyes sparkling with a pleasure only a sadist could know. “Crucio.”

[/td][/tr][/table][/style][/style]template by eliza @ shadowplay[/center]