I love pineapple!
I can never stomach it after seeing Slughorn eat it.
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@beauty-likeice
I love pineapple!
I can never stomach it after seeing Slughorn eat it.
Toujours Pur.
Bellatrix or Narcissa | THE BLACK SISTERS
"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest."
Well than you should have taken classes with good professors. Like Slughorn, He sure makes potions interesting.
Always smacking his lips and snacking on his pineapple...he's disgusting.
Really? I think it’s plenty interesting. Why don’t you?
The same horrible people doing the same boring things...same awful professors and monotonous lessons...
Well...
This place never gets old, that’s for sure.
This place never gets interesting.
Recovery || Molly and Narcissa
If Molly was a lioness that she always claimed to be, then Narcissa Black was a gazelle. Warm eyes watched as the sliver of a girl bowed her head, body language screaming her discomfort, causing the redhead to frown. Whatever it was that the girl was hiding, it was troubling enough to cause Narcissa to behave… oddly. How on earth could this girl be the sister of Bellatrix Black?
Taking it as a sign that her brash question was ineffective, Molly nodded her head slowly, looking down at the shards of glass before her. Raising her wand once more, the Gryffindor mumbled “Reparo,” watching as the glass defiantly dragged itself back together again before flying up into her hand. Pocketing the now empty and perfectly assembled vial, Molly took an assured step away from the blonde girl, crouching to examine the liquid curiously.
By no means was Molly deterred by Narcissa’s evasion but her thoughts had turned considerably darker, mind flickering back to another Black girl, lying on her bed in agony. She frowned darkly. “Do you know what was in this?” Molly gestured towards the floor with a glance in Narcissa’s direction, trying to avoid touching the blue liquid that was steaming threateningly. ”Do you think it’s potent?”
Breathing through her teeth, trying to concentrate on holding herself together, not letting Molly's disconcerting presence dissolve her composure.
Luckily Molly's attention turned to the spilled liquid, which Narcissa glanced at disinterestedly. "I have no idea," she said, affecting aloofness. "I've never seen it before. Maybe it's some creature's venom." It did look dangerous, but Narcissa didn't care much what it was doing in the cabinet or what it might do to someone who attempted to clean it up. She certainly wasn't going to.
"The house-elves will take care of it." To her, that was the end of the matter. House-elves took care of everything.
Pressure // Narcissa & James
"How grand. I was taking one as well" James said sweetly, noting the hint, but not taking it. Potter was, if nothing, an annoyance. And he knew it. And he was damn good at it. It was as if the boy made it his personal goal to irritate everyone wearing the color green.
He smiled at Narcissa with such a sickeningly sweet smile, that he himself was a bit repulsed. Instead he chuckled softly at her and shifted on his feet. “Isnt the view amazing.” he babbled for nothing more than to talk about nonsense.
"One time I came out here with Sirius and he bet me a sickle I wouldnt walk into the water. I did. Got detention. Wet clothes. And a sickle" He laughed at his tale, amused with his own childish antics and how the blonde was reacting to his story.
Considerable effort went into her restraint, not looking at him nor running away, keeping her face steadily pointed outwards and expression unchanged.
Her jaw clenched, though, when he mentioned her cousin's name. She hadn't spoken the detestable boy's name in months, as her family was forbidden from acknowledging his existence. He was a nonbeing. No longer a Black. No longer a person.
And James Potter was as much to blame as Sirius himself was. "What a ridiculous bet." The girl couldn't bring herself to say any more. What a horrible, idiotic person this boy was. Of course Sirius, fool that he was, got caught up in acting rebellious and silly like these boys.
Recovery || Molly and Narcissa
Molly jumped slightly at the noise of shattering glass, wandering forward to dump her books on the nearest desk, unfazed. The Slytherin’s words were icy, but that was harldy extraordinary and after seven years around the snakes, the redhead had built up a certain resistance to the cruel tone. The trouble of being envied.
Rolling up the sleeves of her robes, Molly hesitated for the briefest moment before bustling forward to clean up the mess that had pooled on the floor. Shards of glass glimmered in the torchlight and Molly carefully picked her way between the mess, watching intently where she stepped. Merlin only knows what was in that vial and if the liquid got into an open wound… well, Molly had spent long enough in potions class to seen the grim side-effects of a misused ingredient.
Pulling her wand from her cloak pocket, Molly faltered when she caught a glimpse of Narcissa’s face, pulled tight in… in what? Anger? No, Molly narrowed her eyes, wand arm dropping to rest at her side. The girl was in pain. Intelligent amber eyes darted between the fair girl’s hand and shoulder.
Molly’s initial assumption would have been that the Black girl had merely cut herself on the glass but there was more to this… whatever this was. The sneaking about, the fact that she was pilfering Slughorn’s private store- Narcissa was hiding something. “Are you alright?” The girl asked slowly before shaking her head dismissively. “No, of course you’re not. What’s wrong?” Her second question was blunt, forward but Molly had always been a fan of pertinence.
She took a hasty step back when Molly approached, back hitting the wall and all other escapes blocked by the redhead. Molly's shrewd look alarmed the girl, who knew only vaguely who she was--Gryffindor queen, Prewett and therefore blood traitor and proud of it. Not the kind of person Narcissa Black wanted to be around.
"I'm fine," she said, a bit too quick in her haste to sound convincing. Her hovering hand snapped to her side and Narcissa glanced around for a place to go to get away from Molly's searching stare. She felt like a little girl, caught doing something wrong by her mother, cowering under that hard disappointment her parents always bestowed on her when she misbehaved.
Of course, Molly was not icy and authoritative like the Blacks. She was simply threatening in that she was willing to help, expose Narcissa's secret and her vulnerability, and she was one of those enemy anti-purebloods that Narcissa had always avoided and treated distastefully.
Seeing no way around the older girl, Narcissa shifted her body so that her injured arm was shielded more from Molly's eyes. Like a caged injured animal, she shrank away, looking at her feet under the guise of making sure she wasn't standing in any spilled liquid or glass.
Pressure // Narcissa & James
James was prancing back from Quidditch practice, his hair wet from the shower he had taken, having been sweaty and gross from flying. He ran his hand through his hair, no longer dripping but made his neck cold and he shivered against the air.
When he saw the blonde Pure Blood girl he almost skipped over to her. James Potter had a brilliant smirk on his face. He had been distracted by Lily and his plans with his date and Ball, but now with the Hogsmeade date finalized, he went towards Narcissa, smirking like the prat he was.
"Hello Black." He greeted her, beaming. James knew if he even dared to use this tone with his friends, they would not hesitate to smack the boy right upside his head. It was an overly peppy tone that he never heard the first year girls even use. "What are you doing all by your lonesome?" He purred.
The chipper interruption did nothing for her mood, but her irritation was dulled somewhat. Usually, the sight of James Potter was enough to send her scurrying to another side of the room, but this time she only felt a slight urge to throw him into the lake.
It was all Sirius' fault. He'd befriended those rowdy Gryffindors and abandoned the family and ruined everything. Now those Gryffindors were like smarmy reminders of her family's defected heir. And they were everywhere.
Even approaching her out here, throwing his presence in her face. So disturbingly cheerful.
"Taking a walk," she answered, not looking at him. Hopefully he would take the hint and leave her alone.
That Tansy girl keeps copying my outfits.
Recovery || Molly and Narcissa
The Ball had been everything Molly could have hoped for, and more. While seemingly a passionate but tough girl, the ball had singlehandedly reduced the redhead to a blushing and simpering mess, drawing emotions from her that Molly had never thought possible. She thanked Godric that she had more or less remained anonymous throughout the evening; her behaviour, while that of a perfect lady, lacked any sort of composure, having burst into tears at the simple beauty of the room. Her and Arthur had made up the very night as the Weasley boy dispelled any rumours of cruel taunts and dissatisfaction.
It was, in a word, perfect. And in a rather less cliched word; euphoric.
Books bundled in her arms like a newborn, Molly moved down the dimly lit corridor with a clear bounce in her step. Feet clacking against stone flagstones, she pushed open the heavy oak door of the potions lab, usually vacant at this time of the evening. Her breath came out as chill puffs of air before her face, pinched red by the cold. She had taken to studying in the dungeons as of late, the cold acting as a perfect incentive to work methodically and quickly while keeping her alert.
Lighting the torches that lined the walls with the wave of her wand, the Gryffindor shrieked when she spied someone in the corner of the room. There was a clatter as books spilled from her grasp, tumbling to the stone floor. Holding her wand aloft, the girl breathed a rattled sigh of relief when she recognised the figure to be that of Narcissa Malfoy- hardly a threat.
Catching her breath, she said into the dense silence of the room, “You frightened me. I din’t think anyone was in here.”
Ever since her sister's attack, Narcissa had been living as if in a haze. She refused to see a nurse for her injury; doing so would force her to admit that someone had hexed her, and then she would have to name her attacker, and two things kept Narcissa from being willing to rat out her sister: pride and familial love.
She wrapped a bandage around her arm for a few days, wearing long sleeves and padded shoulders to cover it up. A few days of festering had made the round area of stripped flesh angry and red. She was no good at healing spells, but had attempted one this morning, resulting in a stinging pain as the spell dug into the blistered-over area.
She'd skipped her early Transfiguration class so nobody would notice how her favored her arm and had snuck into a potions lab, where she knew there would be certain ingredients for the students to use. She couldn't remember what it was called, but she knew that there was a certain root she could grind up into a paste and put on an open wound to help heal it, and she thought she would recognize it when she saw it.
Fervent rummaging through the ingredients cabinet was starting to frustrate her, but the shriek brought her stress to peak levels and Narcissa started, knocking over a vial of some blue liquid and jumping backwards as it shattered on the ground. She hit her shoulder against the cabinet door, gasping a little and reaching her other hand around to grab it in pain; realizing her audience, though, her hand stopped midair, clawlike.
"Clearly someone is," she said, not even attempting to hide her irritation, pain clenching her jaw and making her words sound forced.
Sigrid Agren as Narcissa Malfoy Tonya Vasylchenko as Andromeda Tonks Darla Baker as Bellatrix Lestrange
The three Black sisters, the fairest of them all. They promised that the would stand by each other even in the face of danger, until the world would know their names. They failed though. One lost for family.
One lost for love.
One never defected, but she, in the end, she had the farthest to fall.
Oh, my darlings, let me tell you the proper version. Once, long before the days of Slytherin, there was a witch who lived like a shining star all surrounded by squat, ugly, and sightless Muggles; and so we will call her Pure-As-Stars. Think her up in your mind’s eye. She was the most beautiful creature you can imagine. Pure-As-Stars searched far and low for a proper kind of wizard, and found him. They had a daughter. We will call the daughter Pure-As-Snow. Well, one day Pure-As-Stars decided to take Pure-As-Snow to the market, which was crawling with Muggles, for in those times wizards and witches had no choice but to mix with all kinds of backwards persons. And in the market they passed over all of the rubbish that these creatures pressed on them, and found instead a magical mirror that was far too precious for its filthy surroundings. So, Obliviating the Muggles, they seized the mirror and took it home.
Soon enough, Pure-As-Stars found that the mirror showed them everything they could possibly wish to know. How should we ward the house, so that these creeping and ugly folk living around us might leave us be? asked Pure-As-Stars. And the mirror revealed a way. How might I bend the wild elves to my whims and so make a perfect servant for dear Snow? asked Pure-As-Stars. And the mirror showed her how. Which spells might I use to defeat the hideous hags and giants which torment us? asked Pure-As-Stars. And there, in the mirror, was the answer she desired.
So from far and wide there came ugly, grasping Muggles to look inside Pure-As-Stars’s magic mirror for answers to their trifling problems, and to praise her and marvel at her great beauty, so that after some time when Pure-As-Stars would ask the mirror, Where might I find the most beautiful and extraordinary witch in all the world? the mirror would only show her her own reflection. However, because it was a magic mirror and meant to reveal all the answers one might covet, when Pure-As-Snow came of age, the mirror’s answer to this last question changed, and it began to show Pure-As-Stars’s pretty daughter instead. Startled and angry, Pure-As-Stars began to hate her child, who was nothing like all the ugly creatures around them, and who had instead grown to surpass her lovely mother.
Knowing she was no longer the most exceptional being in the land, Pure-As-Stars took to bed, ill and jealous, and when her husband came and begged for a solution to cure her, Pure-As-Stars said that the only thing to cure her would be to eat the liver of Pure-As-Snow.
Being a proper wizard, canny and clever, her husband hid Pure-As-Snow and killed a wild wolfman for his liver, and when Pure-As-Stars ate it she recovered for a time. But the ugly wolf heart was no permanent cure, and when she looked in the mirror and asked who the loveliest witch in the world was, it again showed her Pure-As-Snow. So again Pure-As-Stars fell ill with hatred, and demanded the stomach of Pure-As-Snow. Her husband went out and killed a troll and delivered its stomach to her, but this paltry offering again failed, and still the mirror showed Pure-As-Snow. So Pure-As-Stars asked for the heart of Pure-As-Snow. And her husband killed a Muggle and brought her the heart, but this would not do either, and Pure-As-Stars resolved to do the task herself. Pure-As-Stars brewed a poison brew and set out to find her daughter with the aid of the mirror, and so to eliminate the competition.
But when she found her, Pure-As-Snow begged to live. “How can I let you live?” said Pure-As-Stars, “When you are not like these rapturous Muggles who do my bidding, but instead seem poised to rise above me?”
"You are too enamored of those lesser than you, and not enough in love with your own kind," said Pure-As-Snow. "You must let me live. I am like you."
Pure-As-Stars said, “But I despise you. You are so much lovelier than I.”
"I am this way because I am your daughter, and the daughter of a worthy father,” cried Pure-As-Snow.
"The mirror has shown me that you have more might and magic than I, being so beautiful," said Pure-As-Stars, "And you will replace me. Why, then, should I let you live?"
"Without me to replace you, there will be nothing but the ugly Muggles to inherit the world. The mirror has shown you what you covet most. Is that not, Mother, the chance to leave behind a child as pure and beautiful as yourself?"
And Pure-As-Stars saw that it was so, but there was chaos and jealousy in her mind which had been left there by all the praise these sightless Muggles had heaped upon her, seeking to gain her favor and her love. And she realized how wrong she was, and drank the poison brew herself, and her death caused a great plague to sweep the land which killed these obsequious beings, a fitting punishment.
And so Pure-As-Snow ruled over the land from that day forward, inviting clever and proper magical persons to live with her, and she locked the mirror away for many generations until one descendant of hers, who we will call Pure-As-Black, who as we know is not a made-up person but a distant ancestor of your father’s, should ship it with him to this country. Pure-As-Black hid the mirror in some secret place, remembering how it had made a mother love Muggles instead of her own perfect child, and charged every mother in our line with telling this story. And the mirror he called Eris, after discord, and those who fall pray to it are the Erised.
So now you know. Yes, Bella darling, every last one of them was beautiful, with the shining dark hair of that distant land they cleansed of Muggles. Yes, Cissy darling, it is a tale of motherhood, the noblest occupation a witch can have. Oh, what’s that, my darling? You think it was silly of her to want to be lovely and perfect? You think that was the real problem? You feel sorry for the Muggles? Oh, Andromeda Lyra Perpetua Black. You do have such fancies.
(Honestly, Cygnus, I worry for her. She does seem to miss the point of the story.)
Winter Ball // Andy & Cissa
Andromeda just rolled her eyes at the blonde. Of all the people she could run into, she just had to run into this… stuck up snob. She glared at the younger girl, watching her with narrow eyes. Something about the way she acted seemed so familiar, but she Andy couldn’t figure out who.
"Yes, it was," she replied with a sweet smile. Andromeda was trained to do the same thing: put on a fake, but sweet smile to win the other person over.
"I suppose I’m okay for now. Thank you for asking. Are you okay?" she asked, still feeling annoyed by this blonde.
For all the airs the other girl put on, the way she rolled her eyes and the tinge of annoyance in her otherwise sugary tone showed her as just a touch less practiced than Narcissa. Even though she had been the clumsy one, tripping over her own feet and falling into Narcissa--which could have ripped an extremely expensive dress, at the least, and at the most injured Narcissa quite seriously if she'd fallen--and she had been the one in the wrong, she had the nerve to roll her eyes like a commoner on the side of the road.
Narcissa never rolled her eyes. She had, as a child, done it quite often, because it was Bellatrix's favorite dismissive action, but as soon as she reached puberty her mother had prohibited such childish behaviors.
Mrs. Black grabbed her sharply by the shoulder and told her, with cold maternal concern, that such actions did not befit a lady. That she never told Bellatrix or Andromeda--the headstrong ones--to not roll their eyes was not something that occurred to Narcissa.
"A bit bruised," Narcissa answered airily, reaching out a hand to grab a glass from a floating platter passing by. If she were at a real party, she thought distastefully, this would be champagne. She took a sip; vile pink liquid. Some kind of punch. Cheap. "But I'll survive."
Narcissa surveyed the ball, wrinkling her nose at the knockoff gowns that danced by in the arms of gangly boys. "Such a disappointing affair," she said mildly.