antonindolohcvs:
Where: Abandoned Classroom, Fourth Floor With: Antonin Dolohov & @cruelecto
Alecto Carrow. Formidably, she had his respect from killing her parents, he’d heard through some pathetic rumor—to be confirmed by those who’s opinion actually mattered. To say that Antonin was impressed of that which her twin, she could achieve was rare. It helped the witch was in parlay with Bellatrix. Something like favouritism he played, or that he refused to bother himself with weak-willed women who cowered in the face of death. He wanted nothing to do with beings like that. He’d wipe his own kind from the face of the Earth if only to leave the strong, the willing, the most vile like himself.
Working within the school was particularly exhausting. To remain steadfast and innocent when the eyes of the Headmaster bore down on you at every moment, when that utter cunt Venusia was keeping her own watchful eye on him, something that made his actions all that more careful. He had a job to do, to grow their own organization. Place those trusted most at the hands of the Dark Lord so they may bear in all the gifts that could be received by the most inner working circle of Lord Voldemort. It wasn’t just a job to Antonin. It was his life, the very thing he’d give his soul for, if he considered the idea of having one. Seated in the empty classroom he charmed to deflect the unwanted visitors as he waited for her. No greeting—she needed for soft formality, as though he was trying to be generous. “The other day you were arguing with Frank Longbottom’s boy—“ He commented, playing with whatever abandoned toy left on a desk where he was seated. “Looked heated. Do share the details.”
She’d learned early on what it was to respect someone, to face your fears in their gaze and listen to every word that slipped from their trained tongue. Antonin Dolohov was heinous, a horrible man who’d done the worst things in which Alecto could imagine. Yet, he was no Amycus. He couldn’t read the thoughts that riddled her mind, and whilst Amycus had spared her of such a thing, it remained a plague. He was within one of the most respected men in the Dark Lord’s ranks, and an assumed brilliant liar as he bore the skin of a sheep. Readying his teeth, sharpening his claws, hiding in the shadows. However, was she not the very same? A girl swathed in disguises, chameleon enough to allow herself refuge in a circle most cunning? Yet, her loyalty remained to Amycus and Amycus alone. To the likes of those like Bellatrix, to those like Antonin, however, their loyalties had never been themselves but merely him. She wonders, if only momentarily, what it was like to be so devout to someone such as him.
He doesn’t greet her, and she needn’t do the same to him. She’d been summoned for a reason, and it ate away at her core in wonder until she was finally standing in front of him. The other day you were arguing with Frank Longbottom’s boy –– less of an argument, she thinks, more of a meeting with ones ever present, ever annoying, seemingly unwanted moral compass. She nods gently along, teeth gritted and palms going cold. “He seems to believe making a public spectacle of his heroics will earn him nothing but love and admiration from the lot of them I suppose –– “ Her vocals strained, an anger swelling inside her at the mere thought of him. “I simply stated that it was foolish to believe hiding such horrors from children would do them any good, and he disagreed.” Pointed nose rising as lips pursed. “He wishes to shield those from the real world and I told him he was an idiot for it.”











