sweet poison

alecto carrow. 25. "healer". death eater.

[ministry-bones]

“𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔯𝔢. 𝔄 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢.”

@sweetpoiscn

[amxcuscarrow]

They were kids that I once knew Now they’re all dead hearts to you.

@sweetpoiscn

[sweetpoiscn]

ministry-bones‌:

Amelia watched Alecto raise an incredulous eyebrow at her and frowned. It seemed they would be on sturdier footing one moment and then the next, they would be backsliding.  “I know I don’t know you very well, Alecto…” Amelia sighed, still desperately trying to smooth things over somehow, “I’m trying to? I’m trying to understand where I might have gone wrong here. I don’t want to be hated by you.” 

She desperately wanted to fix whatever she had done wrong. She hadn’t meant to interject herself into family drama. Their friendship had developed so quickly but Amelia wasn’t an expert on matters of the heart either. Maybe a little more well-versed than the siblings she was interacting with but she had never been in love. Had never been interest in someone for more than a short period of time during school. She had harbored crushes on her brother’s friends from time to time but those were all futile and far away things, much more like hero worship than actual feelings.

Alecto’s laughter was jarring and foreign ( if not a little bitter ). The sound had seemed to be enough to disturb the neighbors on the other side of them, causing them to move a few seats over. Amelia tried to shrug that off, wondering for a moment what this whole interaction might look like from the outside. Alecto’s words, her assurance, that Amelia would definitely know if Amycus hated her, might have been a little comforting if she hadn’t already been on the verge of hysterics thanks to the booze filled punch she had been downing all night. Swallowing hard, all Amelia could do was nod in acknowledgment.

The mention of a rabbit caught her attention. She was unaware that he owned one, let alone that it lived in his satchel. Had he brought it to the zoo with them? “I wasn’t aware of any rabbit?” Amelia said, her voice curious like she might have heard Alecto wrong in some way. Hoping that Amycus had somehow enchanted his bag he seemed to drag around with him everywhere, otherwise the poor thing was sure to be uncomfortable being jostled around along with books and other assorted odds and ends. “See…” Amelia offered rather weakly, “You are closer to him than I am…How could I manage to steal him from you? I’m not family.”

Amelia was hardly the first person to wish they weren’t hated by Alecto, but she was probably one of the first people who was actively trying to change her view on them despite all of her negative reactions and attempts to shoo them away from being anywhere near her. Why did she insist on getting to know Alecto so much? Why did it matter? She had already proven that she had the attention of her brother with or without Alecto’s interference, had put a bridge between the twins that she was sure Amycus hadn’t been aware of until their fight in the atrium, and yet she continued to pursue Alecto as well. She didn’t get it.

“Why do you care?” she asked in lieu of the explanation she seemed to want. “You already have my brother’s attention, and it seems you’ll continue to have it even while I’m vocal about my disapproval. Why are you so intrigued by me, Amelia Bones?” Because she didn’t owe anyone an explanation, and never had--humanity had never showed her that they deserved anything other than her bitter discontentment that she threw its way. Amelia was no different... except Amycus had decided to bring her into their lives, so perhaps she was different by default. She remained quiet for a moment before sighing. “All you need to know about me is that I’m only interested in my work and that you’re the opposite of everything I am.” 

Sure, she was making assumptions, but Alecto could infer that it was true.

She snorted at the fact that they were talking about Amycus’ rabbit at all, though there was a swell of superiority when Amelia admitted to not knowing about it. Alecto still knew things that Amelia never could. Though she knew that last statement was a weak attempt to try and smooth things over with Alecto, she decided to give in and take the bait for argument’s sake, if nothing else. “He does, named Lucy, after Lucius Malfoy if memory serves. He was always... intrigued, I suppose, by the man when we were younger. Before our expulsion.” She raised an eyebrow. “Well then we agree on one thing: you’re not family.”

[sweetpoiscn]

amxcuscarrow‌:

And he knew that, of course he did, like impulsive behaviour hadn’t been his downfall once before, but Alecto was determined to dissect every decision he’d made today as if it could rationalised and the adrenaline that had spurred him onwards was crashing, his hands shaking as nerve endings began to catch alight and the burns he’d barely felt before seared through him. 

All of these things, all of these complicated tangle of emotions that snarled and knotted in ways he’d forgotten they could rose up and his eyes were burning (it must have been from the smoke) and his throat knotted tight (the smoke) and all he could think about was not James Potter or his doting parents or his mudblood fiancee — not the fire or the wrath of the Dark Lord. He thought about all of it and none of it but there, at the center of it all, was her.

“You wouldn’t have come,” he replied, his voice wobbling strangely and he could hardly control his own limbs, let alone the tone of his voice (it was the smoke, it had to be), “You were cross with me.”

And it sounded borderline hysterical now, if he were to listen to it logically, but there was a curse hungrily consuming an old family estate in the West Country and hungrily devouring his own energy to sustain itself and Amelia was leaving and everything in the world seemed to be reaching catastrophic levels of self-combustion. Logic had fallen to the wayside when emotion had taken up residence inside of him like an unwanted guest. “What am I going to do?”

His eyes were glassy, his voice wobbly, and he sounded hysterical--to Alecto’s utmost surprise, Amycus was crying, or about to, and now that was two things in the span of less than an hour to happen that she’d never connected with her brother before. Amycus didn’t panic, didn’t get emotional, and most certainly didn’t cry, but it seemed he had reached a breaking point and reacted the only way he knew how: with destruction. Alecto instinctively felt protective, something rare considering the nature of her as a person, but he’d never had to deal with emotions, and now they were all crashing in at once.

All of this happened because Amelia Bones came into Amycus’ life. Alecto fully blamed her for the state her brother was in now. 

You were cross with me, he said, and Alecto sighed, summoning a potion and handing it to him. “For the pain,” she explained before sitting back on her heels. She certainly knew how to do emotions, and rarely were they positive, but in this instance she knew her brother needed assurance, maybe even comfort. She wasn’t entirely sure she knew how to deliver on those fronts, having never been on the receiving end of either feeling, but if Amycus could get out of his comfort zone and feel this much, then she could too.

“That doesn’t mean I would have left you in the dust,” she said slowly, reaching and turning Amycus’ head so they could make eye contact. “I was cross with you, yes, and still am a bit, but you’re my brother. Of course I would help you, you dimwit.” The next words caught in her throat, because they didn’t talk about this stuff, but she pushed through anyway. “You’re all I have, and an argument won’t change that.”

Alecto took a deep, shaky breath and let her discomfort fade away, focusing in on the solution to this mess. “For one, you need to stop casting Fiendfyre everywhere. You know that’s near impossible to stop, and it won’t do you any good to drain your energy on such a thing. I will take care of Potter personally.” She paused a moment. “Can you cast an illusion to hide the damage from everyone? Obliviate any potential witnesses? Were there any witnesses?”

[sweetpoiscn]

antonindolchov‌:

Antonin noted the quirk upward at the question.

       Slowly, recognizing that it might be all right to ask questions after all. He was so used to trending careful water with the likes of Lestrange and Malfoy that it felt unnatural to seize the freedom. There were some English customs that he had not grasped the way he should have. Or simple mistakes he’d made because he didn’t grow up with that sort of privilege. Coming over from Belarus had not been an easy transition, and he had worked hard to get where he was. Brutally had been one of his biggest selling points, but it was also his nature to keep people just enough on edge about him. Which is why he was a man of few words and many actions. Words could be twisted and misinterpreted. Actions very often could not. 

         Years. Antonin was surprised that she had made it through a few months much less a few years. The balance that Alecto crafted had to be a delicate one. He looked down at the woman with renewed fascination. As grizzly as her appearance was already, he was sure it would continue to deteriorate over time.After a moment of consideration he looked back up again, a slight grin on his features. It was not often where he meet someone who felt as twisted as he did, and even when he had their feats were never this miraculous. “I imagine you’ll make it to that mark. She seems to be subsisting well.” He remarked. Both of them seemed to be speaking as if the woman on the bed couldn’t hear them at all. He was sure it was unsettling for the woman. 

       Something crossed her features that he hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly. Antonin wanted to venture to say that it was something akin to excitement. He found a sense of accomplishment in that small notion. There was no way that he believed he was equipped to help in this area. Especially since it seemed like something she had mulled over for months, perhaps longer. When it came to a revenge like this the rules were different. Time could pass and the wound would remain fresh, as if it had happened the day before. To get to the point to be able to enact those grand plans was rare, and Alecto had taken advantage of every opportunity with it. 

       He watched as the gears seemed to turn in her mind. “Suppressing adrenaline might have wider implications than even this incident.” Antonin muttered, before looking over at her. “It would be useful in other instances of torture and knowledge extraction. If it was isolated that is.” He remarked, remembering instances where he was torturing someone and it seemed to him as if they could no longer feel the pain he inflicted. The human body was wondrous in the way it worked, but to degrade those processes was far more intriguing to him. 

        Alecto seemed to take the compliment better than he anticipated and he nodded. “Lead the way,” He said lightly. The further he stepped away from the room the more the ropes loosened around the woman until they weren’t there at all.

Impressed. The fascination behind his eyes as he once again looked to her mother told Alecto he was impressed, and she couldn’t help the smug pride that came with that notion. Her work was her pride and joy, one of the only constants in her life from a young age. Some might think her mad, going into a field that had only served to nearly kill her when she was young, but despite the pain that had come with her mother’s so-called treatments, they had fascinated Alecto as well. She knew first-hand how every common poison worked on the human body, because she’d had them course through her own veins. Even then, her mother had done some modifications to make them harder to detect so she wouldn’t be caught, and she’d foolishly let her notes lay about for Alecto to find as a child. She’d written them down and studied them for years, and between Hogwarts and Durmstrang she always excelled the most in potions because poisons defined her.

Poisons, essentially, made her who she was.

She hated thanking her mother for anything, the scum that she was, but she owed her career to the woman, just as she owed her will to live to her. “Carrows are made stronger than most,” she mused, eyes flickering from her mother to Antoinin. “Through willpower if nothing else. My brother and I have exhibited that all of our lives, so the fact that she has survived so long is no surprise to me.” Alecto reached down and poked at one of her frail arms with her pen, smirking as her mother thrashed as best as she could against her restraints to try and get away from Alecto’s touch. “I believe she’ll make it a few more years, you’re right.”

Isolation. That could certainly be useful. If she could figure out a concoction that would focus on suppressing the adrenaline rush, that could make everything they did that much more effective. “I believe you’re onto something,” she mused, leading Antonin down the steps to the main floor, and then down a second flight of stairs to the basement. It was a little damp, but it always had been, and filled with shelves of ingredients and notebooks scattered around the place. A work station was set at the opposite side of the room, and to the right was a younger, healthier looking man tied to a chair and restrained. Alecto just waved her hand absently when he started yelling against his gag.

“Bellatrix and I have an arrangement. She brings me blood traitors and mudbloods, and I provide her with insight and poisons. Though there’s a monetary exchange every now and again.” She walked to her work station and picked up a glass lens, holding it up to a light to make sure there was no scratch or blemish. “I’ve heard you like to cause others pain, Antonin,” she said, looking at him before heading toward the tied up man and holding the lens to his head. “Hit him with the worst you’ve got, but don’t kill him. I want him to last for a bit until Bellatrix can bring me a new toy.”

[sweetpoiscn]

ministry-bones‌:

“I didn’t…No, I couldn’t steal him from you.” Amelia wasn’t ready to give up on coaxing Alecto into liking her, or at least tolerating her for the foreseeable future. “I don’t think I could erase a bond that started in the womb simply by being friendly with your brother.” It hadn’t sunk in that her kindness and gentleness might have had a larger effect on Amycus Carrow. A cruel and miserable childhood aside, Amelia didn’t really believe she could ever come between the two of them nor did she want to. It wasn’t her place. They had shared so much pain and anguish, having only one another to rely on, Amelia surely couldn’t ruin that. 

“I think if you just speak with him again…You’ll see that I’m not a threat.” Alecto’s tone bothered her, it was too firm and unyielding, unwilling to listen to Amelia’s reason. She momentarily wondered if Alecto thought she was some kind of fairy princess with no real thoughts in her head at all. Amelia had the gift of a happy and healthy childhood, sure, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wise to the way the world worked. There was enough ugly in the files stacked on her desk at the ministry to ever forget the terrible things that happened to people. It didn’t mean she should stop hoping or give up on having empathy for others. 

Alecto’s explanation about her brother’s behavior made sense when she really thought about it, their past interactions. Amycus wasn’t the most verbose person. She realized, a bit too soberly, that maybe she might be asking too much of him. For a man, whose own sister claimed, didn’t have real friends and certainly didn’t indulge in dating, maybe the fact that someone cared about him was terrifying. “Maybe I’m expecting too much of him.” she wondered aloud, her eyes now wide with sheer horror at the thought of doing anything to hurt him, “Do you think he hates me?”

Shrugging off Alecto’s disgust with how sentimental Amelia’s actions were ( she knew she was a giant sap, no need to tell her ) was relatively easy. She couldn’t imagine she would want to sit and listen to her brothers’ partners belay their most tender moments together. “It is a little sappy…” she smiled sadly, “I think he liked it…He liked the penguins and giraffes a lot.”

“Couldn’t you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Amelia. She knew her brother well, but Alecto could never fully say if they were close like Amelia seemed to believe. In a way, she supposed the co-dependency that came from years of abuse and hatred lent to a certain kind of closeness, but the last thing she knew was her brother’s thoughts, let alone feelings. For all Alecto knew, Amycus was being stolen away by someone who was normal where Alecto could not be, an attempt at as normal a life as either of them could live. Amelia didn’t have that insight, but Alecto wasn’t sure if she wanted to indulge. “You don’t know us very well at all, Bones. Don’t say anything until otherwise.”

She snorted at the thought of talking with Amycus about Amelia and downed the remainder of her drink, thankful when another arrived. How many had it been now? She wasn’t sure she’d had this much alcohol even with Bellatrix back in France. “He’s been avoiding me since our little showdown in the atrium, so no, I won’t be speaking with him in the near future. Not unless something drastic happens or he gets over himself.” Alecto wouldn’t admit that she was in the wrong, even if she subconsciously knew that she was.

Do you think he hates me? Alecto laughed a bit loudly, causing the couple beside them to shift a few seats over to put space between her and them. An answer was at the tip of her tongue: if he hated you, you’d be dead. She had seen personally what happened to those who Amycus hated, mostly because she often shared a mutual hatred for the person at the wrong end of her brother’s ire That wasn’t something she could admit out loud, though, not without drawing in questions that she couldn’t (nor cared to) answer. “Believe me, Bones. If he hated you, you would know. It’s perhaps the one emotion he expresses quite clearly.”

And there was a sappy grin. Alecto wrinkled her nose at Amelia and cradled her cup in her hand, not sure where to begin with that statement. There was so much to unpack in the relationship that she hadn’t known existed until a few weeks ago. “He’s certainly fascinated by animals,” she said slowly. “I’m assuming you’ve met the rabbit that lives in his satchel?”

[sweetpoiscn]

amxcuscarrow‌:

Now look what’s happened. 

And Alecto was right, of course, because he’d been more reckless tonight than he had been since the day he’d gotten them expelled from Hogwarts, more reckless than he had any right to be, but it seemed like lately the cool and detached absence of feeling he’d lived within since childhood had been abruptly upended. Emotions he had viciously amputated, one by one, over the years had returned full-force, spilling messily out of the walls he’d set up in his own head until they escaped from all the little cracks in his defences. He didn’t know how to deal with them anymore than he knew how to deal with his fading strength or the panic welling up inside him.

His fingers held onto Alecto’s arm regardless of her insistence she didn’t have to do anything, because he knew, instinctually, that however angry or hurt she was, Alecto wouldn’t let him nosedive into catastrophe. She never had before. “There was an engagement notice.”

And that had been enough, those short few lines sent in by some fortunate son’s doting parents, proudly proclaiming to the world their son’s upcoming marriage. One more thing that Amycus would never, could never, have in his life because he was wrong and damaged and broken in ways that he didn’t like to examine (except they’d been put under deep scrutiny lately, hadn’t they, with the press of Amelia’s lips to his cheek and Alecto prying and scrabbling for him to talk to her about everything that was bubbling up from beneath the surface.) 

“They had wards,” he offered stiltedly, dumbly, shaking the haze and the panic from his thoughts as he tried to form a coherent picture, “Old wards, they’ve been there for generations. It was a — a puzzle. Just something to solve. I didn’t expect to—”

He didn’t expect to get in. “I didn’t think I would get through and I didn’t think Potter would be there and it all just—”

Happened. 

Except it hadn’t just happened. He’d been at those wards for weeks like maybe they might hold the key to why he felt like someone had vigorously shaken his entire system awake and he’d chosen to stay put instead of hide when he’d heard Potter coming. He could have taken his memory then and there when his mask had been knocked loose. He could have, he could have, he could have .. Except he’d been angry and he’d been off balance and he’d had echoes of losing Amelia replaying through his head and nothing had quite sat right. 

“He used the cruciatus curse,” he breathed finally, blinking rapidly, as pain snarled through all his seared nerve endings, like he was still aflame. “I wasn’t supposed to be there Alecto.”

And his predilection for Fiendfyre was well known in their circles, if his carelessness got out and the Dark Lord was displeased then Azkaban could be the very least of his troubles.

An engagement notice. Of course.

To anyone else, that excuse alone would have sounded ludicrous, a testimony that wouldn’t hold up in court. Someone’s engagement notice, sending him into a frenzy that led to burning down the Potter Estate? Anyone else would have found it mad, but Alecto knew, she knew why he felt the need to go for the estate because she had felt it too when she’d seen it in the Daily Prophet: hatred, resentment, longing. How could someone be so proud of their child that they announced his engagement to the world, no matter if they knew the people or not? Alecto tried to imagine a world where their parents would have done the same, a world where they cared about whether or not their children lived or died, or simply cared about their happiness. 

She tried, desperately, but nothing came to mind.

Still, she hadn’t gone and destroyed the Potters for it. Alecto felt deeply, but years of those feelings had taught her to hold them back until a later time when she absolutely needed that rage. Amycus, however, had never been an emotional person as long as she’d known him, or if he was it was certainly never to her face. Alecto knew that would have backfired eventually, all that bottled up emotion, and it had finally landed her brother injured and exposed and scared in her office. Alecto tightened her grip on Amycus’ hand instinctively, jaw setting as he explained how he’d gotten in and what, exactly, had transpired. She had enough of the puzzle to see the picture, and Alecto sighed. 

“That’s the problem, Amycus. You didn’t think. You reacted impulsively, and it landed you here. Don’t you think I want to see them suffer too? Yet you don’t see me breaking and entering.” Yet, she didn’t say, but it was certainly implied. “He used the Cruciatus curse? I hadn’t expected that.” It was hard not to be a little impressed, even if she wanted to toss it right back at Potter. Another sigh, and Alecto attended to the rest of his visible wounds, focusing on them intently as she continued, “I know you weren’t supposed to be there. You wouldn’t be panicked otherwise, save for the Potter ordeal.”

Azkaban was the least of his worries if word reached the Dark Lord. 

Alecto looked back up when she finished tending to him, finally deflating his bobblehead and meeting his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question, Amy. Why didn’t you come get me? Even if you weren’t supposed to be here, you know I would have been there in an instant if you’d sent for me.” 

[sweetpoiscn]

antonindolchov‌:

What had the woman done?

        Antonin was far more interested in the punishment than the crime, but it didn’t cease the question from lingering. He had never exhibited the concentrated effort that he watched Alecto administer now. People had wronged him, and they had reaped the horrors that they sewed, but there was a personal touch to this that Antonin had never mimicked. He liked the disposable targets because he knew that there would always be new ones to pick off. This was different. The preservation of the gaunt woman that lay before him was a new level he personally had never unearthed. What contempt the woman must have garnered during her time. He trusted that the punishment fit the crime, whatever that may be, and thus was happy to be complicit in it. 

        There was a menace in the actions that was intriguing to him. “I understand.” He said lightly, unsure if he wanted to broach the subject further. Antonin rubbed the back of his neck in thought. No matter his thoughts actually pursuing more questions, he was most grateful that he had abandoned his own party. So many skilled Death Eaters were in his home and they didn’t have a sliver of fascination that this brought to him. “How long have you been -” There wasn’t the proper wording. Testing ? Torturing ? “ - maximizing the pain felt through your tests?” Was what Antonin he settled upon, it felt neutral enough but it allowed him to inquire about the issue further. 

        He nodded at the St. Mungo’s sentiment. It made sense that she used her ability for her own gain as well as her job. It had a duel pronged purpose and from what he had seen it was more than effective. There had only been a tenth of the cruelty in his actions than what he feated his eyes on now. What a way to innovate with the tools you had. Antonin was stony as the scalding liquid touched the woman’s mouth. Oh, the noises that she tried to make her beautifully drowned out. It was a cacophony of choking and an attempt to break his restraints. He might be slightly out of practice with this particular charm but he was not idle about it. Active thought allowed for the restraints on her hands to tighten, resisting her movements even further. Antonin was careful not to do any permanent damage. Now that he understood Alecto’s intention he wanted to follow them. 

        Antonin’s gaze went from the thrashing woman to Alecto’s face. She was unbothered by the sound. He might have tried to silence the woman on the bed otherwise. Personally, it was the look of pain across her features that he enjoyed more than the sound. The muggle pen flew across the pages with detailed notes he imagined. There had been such a vendetta that he had felt between the two women that he had nearly forgotten that it was an observed experiment. He imagined that this was not a singular experiment, but was perhaps frequent in the household itself. 

       “What a noble pursuit.” He commented. “I think you’re correct about the torture portion of it all. Unless there’s a way that the effects of the liquid would come in waves instead of full force, but even then it seems unlikely that those moments of reprieve would yield useful information.” Antonin was musing aloud now, looking down at the now silent woman. He nodded along with the suggestion for Deathroot, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought. “Are you accounting for her adrenaline?” He asked, his tone even as to not indicate something other than pure curiosity. “I would assume this is not the first test due to the reaction to the cup, so her adrenaline is already working in a way that another subject – if not being tortured first – would not have.” 

        Antonin shrugged, looking back up at her. “This certainly is not my specialty, but it could be a thought. It does tend to dull pain in other instances.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at the woman again before back up at Alecto. “In either case, it was a remarkable show.” He knew that she probably wasn’t looking for approval, but his sentiments were true. Not meant for flattery. 

He said he understood, but how could he really? There was only one other person who could understand what Peony Carrow had put her through, but her brother had been more distant than usual lately--another form of isolation that Alecto didn’t want to focus on. Instead she stared intently at Antonin, eyes flickering across his face looking for any indication that he was about to leave, that her particular brand of crazy was too much for even a brutal man such as himself. Instead of that, Alecto merely found curiosity, intrigue, maybe slight confusion, but all of that was something she could work with. She was beginning to realize that, much like her brother, Antonin spoke more with his actions rather than words, though why he held himself back from asking questions was beyond her. What was the point of thought if you didn’t use it to advance learning? 

She wasn’t sure she would have told him why, at any rate. Perhaps one day, if--or when--she felt they were on that level. The only one that had reached that level was Bellatrix, and even that had taken a while. Curious. 

But there was a question, and Alecto’s lips quirked up in the smallest of smiles. He was finally asking, examining, and she glanced back at the thrashing woman on the bed as she thought on how long it had been since she’d first started her experiments. “A few years, I suppose,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip. Only a fraction of what the sorry excuse of a woman had put her through. “If I get lucky and she doesn’t give out from old age or the torture, there will be many more years to come from this. She reacts so well to my concoctions, after all.”

He opened his mouth again, and Alecto listened intently to every word. It wasn’t often she found someone who might have thoughts on how to improve her experiments, not while completely aware of the situation at least, and the moment Antonin mentioned adrenaline Alecto wanted to smack herself. Of course. How could she not account for that? It was the body’s natural defense against pain, and her mother had connected the green cup to poison after the third week of tests. Pathetic that she’d held out hope for that long. She scribbled a few notes into her notebook and actually smiled, small as it was, in the throes of a true mad scientist. “I can’t believe I didn’t take that into account. Stupid of me, that won’t happen again. With a few switched variables, I could probably counteract that... or maybe keep adrenaline from pumping in the first place...” 

She paused when Antonin complimented her work, not used to anyone doing so. She simply provided what was needed because it was her job and pleasure. Her mind went back to earlier in the night, to their discussion of recognition, and perhaps Alecto had looked at that wrong. Maybe. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said after a moment, closing her notebook and grabbing the mug. “Come with me, and I can show you my true work station. Perhaps you can offer more insight I hadn’t thought of.”

[sweetpoiscn]

amxcuscarrow‌:

Amycus hated St. Mungo’s in a visceral way, with an instinct he’d never been able to quash or soften with time, and being inside those walls had only ever set him further off-balance, enough that he couldn’t tell whether the tremor of his limbs was from adrenaline or fear or the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse or the heavy toll that the Fiendfyre left to run riot extracted from his strength; if it was shock from the raw and angry burns that had seared up his arms, burning through the fabric, or the blood from where he’d bitten through his tongue. 

He didn’t entirely recall Alecto forcing him into a chair or her hasty patch up job, his attention only refocusing from the frantic variables he was running through — he needed more time, time enough to erase the possibilities from eventuating except he didn’t even have the strength to stand again (a fact established when his knees folded at he first attempt to struggle up out of the chair) let alone to use any of the frustratingly finnicky time spells he’d been piecing together. Let alone to obscure James Potter’s memories.

“He unmasked me,” he replied, blinking rapidly to clear the bright spots from his vision, he could still feel the pull of fiendfyre at his reserves, burning out the magic from inside hm. “Potter he—” his tongue, wet with blood, licked the dryness from his lips and he focused hastily on Alecto’s face, “I used fiendfyre on their estate. He’ll tell them Alecto, he’ll tell them I’m a—” his eyes darted downwards, to ugly snarl of burns that had burnt away the skin of his forearms where his Dark Mark should be and for the first time he could recall in a very long time he remembered what it was to be afraid. “They’ll send me to Azkaban.”

Trying again to get up, the spots in his vision lit up and the chair rocked under the force of his slumping hastily back into it. “You have to help me,” his hand reached out to grab at hers, eyes wide and panicked amidst the soot and blood and smell of burning, “Please, Alecto. I can’t go to Azkaban, I can’t—”

Alecto wished she could be nurturing. 

She had an inkling that, in the wake of her brother’s obvious panic, she should be kneeling down to calm him like their parents never would have, to assure him that everything would be okay and they’d work it out. Had their lives been any different, maybe she would have; maybe they would have been happy and not slightly insane, or maybe she’d know exactly how to deal with the consequences of Amycus’ actions and not have to deal with the fact that this could very well send him to Azkaban--and, perhaps, herself as well if she were implicated in any way.

Potter had unmasked her brother, had burned him and hurt him and put genuine fear onto his face. Alecto wanted to find him, wherever he may be in the hospital, and tear him apart limb from limb. Rather than act like Bones might and smooth away Amycus’ worries, Alecto let the rage she felt toward Potter and the hurt she still felt from her fight with her brother settle in her stomach as she grabbed his arm, turning it forward and back to take a look at the burn that had seared away his Dark Mark. Were the effects of the spell still there? It was something she’d figure out later.

“I don’t have to do anything,” she said shortly, tearing her eyes from the burn to meet Amycus’. “You’re the one who went to Potter’s home, Amycus, and you’re the one who should know better than to play with fire. Now look what’s happened.” Her eyes closed, and Alecto counted to ten before continuing. “... they’re not sending you to Azkaban, Amycus, quit panicking about that. Potter will be dead before he gets a chance to lock you up.” Maybe death wasn’t the best course of action here, but she still fed the rage that festered within her. She would until she had to actually face Potter himself; then she’d probably use a memory charm like most of their hunts. 

Alecto stared at the hand Amycus had grabbed, then looked at the pure panic all over his face, and sighed slowly. “Fine. Why did you attack Potter’s place, then? What spurred you on to do such a thing without making sure you had backup?” And maybe she was still a bit bitter, and definitely still hurt from the atrium, but she had her brother cornered and they would talk dammit. “Why didn’t you fetch me? Are you too ashamed to go on hunts with me now, or are you afraid I’ll simply ruin it?”

[sweetpoiscn]

ministry-bones‌:

Despite Alecto’s jab, it wasn’t a crime to feel empathy for another human being. Amelia felt a great deal of sorrow for the small children they once were. Children who shouldn’t have had to protect themselves from the people who had brought them into this world. The very thought of their own mother doing something so horrendous to the her children, babies she had carried in her own body for nine months. It turned Amelia’s stomach in a sinister sort of way she was certain she had never felt before. She had only gleaned bits and pieces of the Carrow’s history from Amycus’s veiled statements and interactions with Alecto. While she had been suspicious of their “childhood illness” she could have never anticipated this. Amelia reached up once more, wiping away a few stray tears with the edge of her sleeve.

“I don’t pity you.” she said quickly in her own defense, sounding the most sober she had for the entirety of the conversation, “I hate that word anyway.” It was clear, even under the influence, that Amelia’s outpouring of sympathy had gotten on Alecto’s nerves. Amelia couldn’t really blame her. For how humiliated and angry she felt that day in the atrium, she could now sympathize with Alecto’s motivations to protect Amycus. Her hurt to have some interloper come in and seemingly try to steal him away from her. “I don’t want to steal him from you..” Amelia added.

Despite her statement that Amelia had done something to damage the sibling’s relationship, it seemed Alecto was also trying to assure Amelia that Amycus cared for her? It was confusing. She suddenly felt a tiny shred of hope that, maybe, Alecto was right. “Do you really think so?” she asked, frowning once more as she watched Alecto pinch her nose in frustration, “He’s quiet so it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking sometimes…I think I might confuse him more than anything…”

The bewildered look on Alecto’s face at the mention of penguins made Amelia’s own brow furrow. It took a few moments of silence before Amelia figured what she had meant.  “Oh not a real penguin.” Amelia answered, wondering how much money that would take, “A tiny one, a stuffed animal?” She moved her hands together in an approximate measurement, an attempt at giving Alecto a visual aide but it was of no use. “I bought it so he could..remember the day? Think of me…I guess.”

She still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Amelia’s crying. No one cried over a Carrow, it was simply the natural order of things. When her uncle had died, Alecto hadn’t shed a single tear while Amycus and their father buried him in the Traitor’s Graveyard; when they were in the hospital, she didn’t cry because it didn’t make the pain stop. Instead she’d laugh at the pain and torment that life deemed to throw her way because it was the only way she knew how to handle the tragedy that struck her time and time again. Amelia crying over her situation, therefore, was beyond her comfort level, even as it began to slow and she insisted that she didn’t pity either of them.

That was another lie. Everyone pitied the Carrows before they were killed by one.

I don’t want to steal him from you. Alecto scoffed and looked away from the other, staring at her glass and mulling over the strange interaction that fate had decided she would have with Amelia Bones. Was this payback for causing a scene in the atrium? Was karma finally catching up to her? “You’ve already begun to,” she said slowly, not tearing her eyes from her glass. “You spoke to him and he began to drift away from me. You’ve stolen my brother from me, Bones, no matter how small or large the piece, and I cannot forgive you for that. Life isn’t a fairy tale, it doesn’t work that way.”

Even so, the tentative olive branch she’d extended Amelia was one that the other had grabbed quickly, though in confusion, not that Alecto blamed said confusion. She hadn’t exactly tried to do so before, and it was far too late to retract it once she’d realized how much of a mistake that olive branch probably was. She sighed and let her hair cover her face, unable to believe that she’s discussing her brother’s love life with the person he was more than likely interested in. “You learn to read his ticks,” she said slowly, hating that she even made herself continue the line of questioning. “Little facial twitches, his body language, how tense versus how relaxed he is. He doesn’t speak much, but for my brother actions speak far louder than words.”

At least Amycus hadn’t been saddled with a real penguin. Alecto could hardly handle that rabbit he insisted on carrying in his satchel at all times, let alone a flightless bird. Her nose wrinkled as Amelia explained, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s so sappy it’s disgusting,” she muttered, flagging down another drink before finishing the one she currently had. “Better than a live one though.”

[sweetpoiscn]

ministry-bones‌:

Amelia’s anger at Alecto’s humorless laugh quickly dissolved into sympathy and despair. “Amycus mentioned he was sick as a child..I-I..” What else was there to say? There had been some lingering suspicion on her part that something in Amycus’s childhood had been very, very wrong. His reluctance to discuss it hadn’t bothered her. Their friendship was new and she didn’t want to pressure him into telling her anything until he felt safe. Even the way he spoke of Alecto had been a little cagey. Just giving her bits and pieces of his past that she was now slowly putting together.

It made perfect sense for the Carrows to be distrustful of her and for Alecto to be angry. Amelia momentarily imagined what it would have been like to live a life like that. If Edgar or Owen had been the only one she could depend on. Then someone else swooped in and stole the only person you could trust away. How much pain it would cause. Amelia’s head was spinning a little as the familiar pang of sympathy and guilt occupied her gut. “I’m so sorry.” A sob escaped Amelia as she suddenly felt overwhelmed, dropping her cup on the bar as tears filled her eyes. 

Spurred on by the alcohol in her system, in a split second, Amelia had pulled Alecto into a very awkward, one-sided hug. 

“I don’t wish to come between you two.” Amelia said, her voice soft and small. “I didn’t...I don’t know why he wouldn’t say anything to you. He’s so quiet and it just sort of happened? You know and…he’s so lovely and smells nice…” The couple who had been standing next to them at the bar suddenly gave them both the most pointed, peculiar look before gathering their drinks and leaving suddenly. Amelia was completely oblivious. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry that happened to you and that I-I am a source of contention in your relationship..”

Alecto had squirmed in discomfort at the sudden physical contact. Amelia could imagine she was just as unnerved by Amelia’s general touchy-feelyness as Amycus had been in the beginning of their friendship. Amelia pulled away gently, tears still slowly slipping their way out of her eyes. She reached up, wiping them away self-consciously, smearing her eyeliner in the process. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“He held my hand at the zoo…I thought he liked me.” Amelia sighed miserably. Her tone of voice betraying the pining she’d been doing for the last couple of days as well as the amount of drinks she had imbibed this evening. “I bought him a stuffed penguin.” Amelia wondered bitterly if he even had it anymore. The way she was feeling was so…so juvenile. Unsure of exactly why she was even offering this information in the first place. A strategy to build some trust between the two women? 

She hadn’t expected Amycus would have told Amelia much, but it was a little satisfying to know that she wasn’t the only one being kept in the dark. If Amycus had spilled their sob story to Amelia before Alecto had even known who she was, it would have been another story entirely, and likely something she would never forgive. Still, she hated telling it herself because of the exact reaction Amelia was having now: shock, sorrow, pity. Hell, the woman started crying in response to their history, though Alecto desperately hoped she could blame that on the alcohol. She didn’t need people crying over her shitty life, because she knew it had been shitty and she still survived. All the poison her mother had fed her, and she’d not only lived but turned the tides on the very woman who could have killed her and her brother for the attention of a society that didn’t give a damn about any of them.

It was the little things that got her through life.

She was about to tell Amelia off for expressing sorrow toward her when she was pulled into an awkward hug, one that shouldn’t have happened to begin with and was lasting far too long. Alecto tensed immediately and squirmed, feeling the gaze of the couple on them as she lamented about how nice her brother smelled. She sighed and pushed Amelia off right as she got the hint to pull away, feeling like she could breathe again with the distance between them. “I’m well aware about my brother’s quietness, thank you,” she said dryly, taking a long sip of her drink. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you meant to come between us. The fact of the matter is that you did, and expressing pity and... hugging... me won’t make things better.”

And yet, despite how much she loathed the woman in front of her, Alecto felt the urge to assure Amelia that Amycus did, in fact, like her. It was pathetic and alarming, and the last thing she wanted to do, but Alecto could distance herself when necessary and look at the facts. He’d met someone, someone important, and though he’d kept it from her Alecto could tell that Amelia meant more to Amycus than he perhaps understood himself. He’d never been good with emotions. She sighed dramatically and pinched her nose. “All of... whatever it is you two are doing is my brother’s way of showing he likes you. It’s not the most traditional, but neither are we.” She looked back up at Amelia in blatant confusion. “Why on earth would you buy Amycus a penguin?”

[sweetpoiscn]

amxcuscarrow‌:

@sweetpoiscn​

The night of the fire.

St Mungo’s Hospital, Alecto’s office, 

Amycus made it precisely half a step through the door to his sister’s office, the smell of fire and blood and smoke wreathed in his hair and his skin and embedded in the wild panic of his eyes, before he collapsed back against the door. The night was dark, her office dim save from the light from her desk, and amidst the dull and soothing greys of the walls and the furniture and the carpet, he felt like a riot of flame and smoke.

“Alecto—”

His breathing, loud and rattling and refusing to slow, to settle, even far from the smoke and the searing heat (and deeper, instead, in his own sterile and white-washed hell) and all he could think, all he could hear, was the internal panic of his own inner voice telling him how foolish he’d been, how careless and reckless and how they would lock him up for this. How Potter could have said something already. 

His jaw was swelling, aching where it had been hit, there was blood in his mouth and on his teeth and smeared across his chin, the char of burnt flesh thick in the air as he stumbled forward on an adrenaline crash, his limbs and his head heavy like a weight and the frantic racing of his heart slamming in his hears. “Help me. Please. Potter — I need to get to — I need to stop him before he tells.”

Amycus never came to St. Mungo’s.

It made sense, considering their experiences with the place growing up, but Alecto had been able to suppress that part of her enough to work where she did. It also gave her a much-needed reprieve from the possibility of seeing her brother after their fight, time for her to decompress and mull over her encounter with Amelia at the Halloween party, and time to simply gather her thoughts in relative peace. She’d just finished writing down notes in one of her many journals when Amycus stumbled through the door to her office, slamming it shut with the weight of his body a moment later and looking more worse for wear than she’d seen him in a long time.

Amycus never came to St. Mungo’s willingly. 

Alecto hopped up from her seat and immediately cast a charm to brighten the room as she rushed over to her brother, eyes immediately looking over him to take in his injuries. The smell of fire and smoke and blood hit her nose, and her face contorted into a frown as she led her now-panicking brother to her chair so she could help him better. She took care of the most serious injuries that she saw first, soothing the burn and checking his mouth out with a hyperfocused concentration until she was sure they were at the very least better than before. His head was... large, like a bobblehead, and Alecto finally registered what Amycus had said.

I need to stop him before he tells.

“What happened?” she hissed, glancing at her door and waving her wand to lock it. Whatever was going on, no one needed to overhear it. “Why are you like this, and what does Potter have anything to do with this? You have to tell me everything, Amycus, or I swear to Merlin I will refuse to help you.”

[sweetpoiscn]

ministry-bones‌:

Amelia wondered for a moment why the universe was treating her this way. She didn’t buy into religion or any of that crystal ball gazing she had to suffer through in divination but there was something to be said for coincidence, karma. Maybe this was hers for thinking it was okay to air her feelings to someone she didn’t even really know yet. For being too friendly that day in St. Mungo’s instead of just apologizing for knocking Alecto’s files out of her hands and disappearing into the ether like someone with half a brain would do.

Amelia had been there that afternoon. Mortifying as it was, watching Alecto yell at Amycus in front of the entire ministry over her. She hadn’t intended to cause so much controversy but maybe it was her fault in the first place. For telling Alecto that she should speak to Amycus about her. She could have never imagined that she would make such a scene. Amelia was unsure of how to react to her sudden presence, obviously not thrilled to see her again. It made her frustrated, but now, staring into Alecto’s pallid face she just felt sad. 

“I’m sorry.” Amelia said the words as earnestly as she possibly could but wasn’t exactly sure how much she meant it. “I can get you another or you could have mine?” The offer was kinder than Alecto deserved after everything that had been said. Amelia just didn’t have the will or desire to be mean to her. Maybe it was the firewhisky or maybe it was some innate desire to win her over. Prove to Alecto that she was good enough for her brother. Even if Amelia was only going to be his friend.

“Why do you hate me so much?” The words slipped past her lips before she could stop herself. Amelia frowned, thinking of all the time she and Amycus had spent together these past few weeks. How they had held hands at the zoo and shared ice cream, laughed at the muggles in their hideous holiday shirts. How much he loved giraffes. She sighed heavily, a sudden bereft misery weighing heavily on her heart. “I saw you at the ministry and I…” Amelia paused for a moment, trying not to sound cross, “I just want to know why I suppose…Amycus hasn’t spoken to me in the last few days, I think he’s avoiding me…”

The earnestness that Amelia tried to project onto her words fell woefully short, though not as much as Alecto had expected it to fall. Her eyes darted down to the drink in Amelia’s hand before quickly away, watching Mags come over to clean up the mess her drink had made with a sour expression on her face. “I don’t need your drink,” she huffed, downing what remained of it and ordering another before she could place the cup back onto the counter. 

Why do you hate me so much? Alecto barked out a single, humorless laugh, shaking her head and adjusting herself onto the bar stool beside her. She didn’t owe Amelia Bones anything, let alone an explanation as to her hatred for the woman. At least she’d been at the atrium; good, let her be humiliated. The smallest part of her felt... maybe not guilt, but something akin to it when she mentioned Amycus avoiding her, and Amycus’ behavior during their confrontation flashed before her mind. He actually liked her, didn’t he? And Amelia obviously, pathetically, liked him back. She should feel vindicated in Amycus’ avoidance of Amelia.

Unfortunately, victory can have a bitter taste.

She let the silence go on until she’d finished her drink and half of another, the alcohol relaxing her enough to be able to speak to Amelia without becoming irrationally angry with the woman for merely existing. Why do you hate me so much? Another laugh escaped, quieter but no less bitter and humorless as before, and she refused to meet Amelia’s eyes as she finally opened her mouth to speak. 

“I don’t know how much Amycus told you about our childhood, but it wasn’t good,” she began slowly, finger circling the rim of her glass. “Far from fun, actually. You’re lucky I’ve had enough to drink to talk about this shit at all, so be grateful Bones.” Alecto went quiet for a moment longer and chugged her glass, taking a refill that Mags automatically sent her way. “We were both sickly as children, and not just because we were born with weak immune systems. Father was hardly around, and when he was he focused his attention on my brother rather than myself. Mother loved how sick we got, because it brought attention to her, and she made sure we stayed that way.” Her eyes flickered to Amelia, meeting her eyes. “You never quite get used to the taste of poison.”

She wasn’t sure why she felt Amelia needed to know all of this, not beyond the excuse of alcohol and lots of it, but if Amycus was going to stay in contact with Amelia she should know everything. If she stays, then maybe Alecto would have to reevaluate her. “Amycus is all I’ve had in the world, Bones. Our parents were against us from birth, almost killed us several times. We grew up strapped to our beds both at home and in St. Mungo’s. He’s all I’ve had through Hogwarts, and then Durmstrang, because we were--are--the weird children. We might have so-called ‘friends’, but it was always my understanding that we knew who those people were, even if Amycus has always been more reserved than most. You can imagine my shock and hurt when suddenly I find someone who says she’s friends with my brother, yet despite the many opportunities he had I still didn’t know a thing about you.”

Alecto took a long drink from her glass and looked away from Amelia, toward an unspecified spot on the opposite wall. “I believe I’m in my right to be upset, and there’s something about you that made my brother decide to keep things from me. So, of course, I blame you. It’s the logical conclusion.”

[sweetpoiscn]

amxcuscarrow‌:

The very idea of Alecto and Amelia meeting, sitting down for tea, and discussing him; left an uncomfortable squirming feeling crawling beneath his skin that was something like embarrassment or worse still, hope. As if the idea of Amelia having a crush wasn’t as equally bewildering as the alternative of her simply being kind to him. Charitable. In the way that people had sometimes attempted to be when they were kids. 

Alecto had always been good at twisting situations to be what she wanted them to be.

His arms coiled reflexively around himself, locking down like a vault, as if it might just prevent him from sliding his wand out of his sleeve or saying something rash like, “Don’t talk about her like that,” with just a whiff of stubbornness beginning to brim, dark in his eyes. And he knew, instinctively, that Alecto just wanted to get a reaction out of him but he couldn’t help but give it, because it really wasn’t fair that he couldn’t have this one thing for himself, little pockets of things he’d never allowed himself or thought himself capable of wanting sprinkled through his day, without it being ruined.

Alecto was ruining it.

“I’m not—” he started to protest, indignant and loud and suddenly keenly aware of every set of eyes that seemed to turn his way, he felt keenly stupid suddenly, at being cornered and humiliated by his own sister and humiliating Amelia in the process. “I’m not ashamed of being her friend.” Alecto was right, this was his fault, because he liked to lock up his most precious thoughts and guard them jealously from interference or harm, and then he’d blurted it out, bluntly, cruelly, before he could stop himself, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to scare her off.”

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? His family or his reputation or his lack of prospects or his general Amycusness never failed to scare everyone away, it always had, and Amelia, for some bewildering reason, had stayed this long but surely this was it now.  She wouldn’t even look at him now and all the stupid notions he was not thinking about were little more than spacejunk for the black holes in his head to swallow. The idea was far more .. frustrating than he thought it should be. 

Good things never stayed in the Carrows lives for too long. Someone always made sure of that.

“Go home, Alecto.”

His shoulders hunched upward, the sea of people that had slowly gathered around them cutting off his exits and Alecto still brimming with rage before him. He huffed, loudly, the rush of water at his back a reminder as he turned sharply on his heel and resolutely stepped over the edge of the fountain, slogging angrily through it with the heavy squelching of shoes until he reached the other side, stepping over the fountain’s lip again to squelch noisily across the atrium’s marble floors, leaving puddles of water in his wake as he made an angry beeline towards the elevators.

I didn’t want you to scare her off. 

Alecto froze when Amycus said that, completely thrown by the cruel jab his words sent her way. How dare he suggest she scared people off? She wasn’t alone in the blame for why people never stuck around long, for why good things never stayed in the lives of the Carrows. For him to suggest that she was the reason, that he had to keep what was good in his life from her lest she drive them off--

A small part of her mind thought that she was, perhaps, making a bigger deal of that then she should’ve been, but the majority of her mind was centered on the hurt that settled deep within her, rendering her speechless as she opened and closed her mouth but no sound came out. They were left at a standstill, staring at one another silently while the crowd around them stared in anticipation. She let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. “I get it. You’re ashamed of me. I see how it is.” 

What did it matter, anyway? Alecto was better on her own. Amycus was hardly home as it was, it didn’t make a difference. She narrowed her eyes as he told her to leave and proceeded to slosh through the fountain to get to the elevators, leaving Alecto alone in the middle of the atrium with a multitude of people staring at her. She took a moment, breathed deeply, and turned on her heel, marching toward the crowd and shouting, “Get out of my way.”

And if she felt her eyes sting with angry tears, she didn’t acknowledge them until she was safe back at home, only allowing herself to rub at them once before gathering herself. Screw all of that. Who needed Amycus? Who needed Amelia Bones? She had work to do.

Alecto didn’t need anyone. Maybe if she repeated that to herself enough, she’d begin to believe it.

[sweetpoiscn]

ministry-bones‌:

WHO: Amelia & @sweetpoiscn​​ WHERE: The Century Casino, Halloween Party

Amelia had initially been uncomfortable with the idea of attending a social event. Anxiety from the Puddlemere victory celebration lingering in the rear view and the events in the ministry atrium, still fresh. Alecto Carrow had all but aired her feelings for her brother in front of the entire universe. Amelia had been kicking herself for being so stupid to admit something like that in the first place but she had been frustrated that day at St. Mungo’s. She had also felt a great deal of sympathy for Alecto, it was clear that their childhood had been less than ideal and, in all honesty, she couldn’t fault her for feeling protective of her twin.

And it wasn’t that Amelia had been embarrassed to be linked to Amycus Carrow, no. Amelia was angry that she hadn’t had the opportunity to tell Amycus about her feelings herself. Frustrated by everyone else’s attitude and nosy questions. Concerned coworkers with their pitying looks, people volunteering advice and little tidbits of gossip about the Carrow family that she could care less about. Dolores from Improper Use of Magic had basically cornered her the other day in the break room, seemingly frothing at the mouth for any sort of information she would be willing to volunteer.

So, it was strange that her friends had somehow convinced Amelia to come to the Century’s Halloween party. Perhaps the bottle of wine they had imbibed before leaving her flat had a hand in it but now Amelia was here, wearing black cat ears. Whiskers drawn on her face and a black tail, a few firewhiskys down. Feeling a little less ridiculous as time ticked by and the alcohol flowed through her system.

It was when Amelia’s shoulder collided with another patron at the bar that she realized that coming out tonight had probably been a stupid idea. “Alecto.” Amelia said tentatively as if the woman would scream at her for just existing, “Sorry…nice to see you?”

Alecto was beginning to regret coming to this silly Halloween party.

Normally she’d never look twice at a muggle casino, uninterested in what the population had to offer when it revolved around people who had money to spare. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed up, but people kept comparing her to someone from something called the Shining, so when anyone decided to talk to her she just nodded and went along with the assumption. Really, all she wanted was a few drinks somewhere she could avoid seeing her brother, the scene from the Ministry atrium still fresh in her head. Looking back on it, perhaps she overreacted a little, but she couldn’t get what he’d said out of her head.

I didn’t want you to scare her off.

Wasn’t that hypocritical, considering how alike she and Amycus were? He was more restrained in his emotions, but he’d done acts just as horrendous as her own. He had no room to talk--but then again, he’d been genuinely angry with her, something that hardly happened with the two of them. They disagreed, yes, and argued, but that was what siblings did. They were all the other had for so long that him being genuinely angry with her had her reeling.

Maybe he was ashamed of her. Alecto downed the drink in her hand at the thought and got another one, having lost count at the number she’d consumed. 

She’d just grabbed her new drink when someone’s shoulder bumped into hers, sending the top of the drink sloshing onto the bar counter. Alecto stared at the puddle mournfully and tensed when she heard who had run into her, head whipping to the side so she could actually see Amelia Bones. She looked absolutely ridiculous in her costume, though Amycus probably would appreciate it. The thought alone left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Bones,” she said coolly. “Afraid I can’t say the same. You spilled my drink.”

[sweetpoiscn]

antonindolchov‌:

Antonin is struck by the laughter. 

       Not because he’s concerned for the dear woman upstairs, he’s not that kind. However the laugh feels almost oddly vindicated, but Antonin could not place why. It did not appear to him that Alecto seemed to do much of anything without reason. The actions might be outside of the norm, but they didn’t appear to be erratic. Not that the distinction was important to him. Something that he had picked up on in their brief conversation. If being a Death Eater were a game they seemed to be playing it the same way. Despite that he watched the cups carefully. He caught onto the green one, watching it intently to be sure it didn’t end up in his hand. Antonin had an inkling that the liquid from the vitals was not just for taste, but something more sinister. 

        The screaming of the kettle broke him from his own thoughts. His gaze wandered from the cups. Antonin had his own vices, but they were a lot more solitary in their execution. They didn’t require a ton of testing, it was nothing he wanted to perfect. If a spell didn’t work the way he intended it generally didn’t have the same consequences because he was already doing it under illicit circumstances. It was just another casualty. Nothing too concerning. He thought that there might be a method as to why the poisons had to be tested first. “A special concoction.” He said softly, nearly chuckling at the thought. “If you want to keep the test subject, I would assume that these aren’t - uh - fatal.” It was sort of a question as he looked up at her, as he took his own cup. He took a sip before nodding and setting it onto the counter. 

        Antonin followed her up the stairs, but with a lot less of the grace she seemed to have. He did not have the affinity for watching for the squeaky parts of the stairs, but he followed nevertheless. Antonin noted that the door was to the left as they entered the master bedroom. He let his eyes adjust to the lighting in here, noting the objects that littered the floor. Probably no house elves, he mused to himself, although it was not nearly as compelling as the groan that came from the bed. Ghastly was an understatement for the appearance of the woman – if you could still call her that. She was more skeletal than actual human. He had to imagine she was quite wicked to end up with such an unique treatment. 

       He nearly recoiled at the voice, not visibly so, but internally. She had seemed inhuman that he thought vocal quality was now beyond her. It was intriguing how humans seemed to cling so tightly to life despite the odds. The immediate shaking of the head when the cup nearer signaled that this was a reoccurring trend. At Alecto’s word he nodded, looking over at the woman in the bed. Antonin looked up at her request. “Of course.” He replied, although he was not inclined the actually touch the woman. Instead ropes began to form both around the woman’s writs, curling, and around the crown of her head. They applied enough pressure that it the top of her head was leaned back. He constructed another one for her jaw, compelling it downward so it was open. 

       Antonin looked over at Alecto, as if to ask if it was to her liking. It was non-traditional of course, but non-verbal magic was his absolute favorite Well, one of his favorites. . Might as well use the situation to utilize his skills. It was nice because people didn’t see it coming, not even a second before. A cruel sort of smile was working its way onto his features, delighted to see how this was going to play out. “Anything else?” He asked.

Not fatal. Alecto fought from laughing again.

Her mother would deserve to have a fatal concoction, wouldn’t she? Years of torment under the hands of the one person who was supposed to care for herself and Amycus, who was supposed to love them for more than what they could do for her. Alecto would be lying if she said she never thought about pulling the plug, as it were. How easy it would be in her mother’s frail state to simply grab her most venomous mixture and force the entire bottle down her throat, to listen to her wails and pained screams as she flailed against the bed and meekly fought against her inevitable demise. It would be so easy, and if she had her way, it would take a long while before she’d finally die.

But no, she deserved at least another year or two under her ‘care’ before Alecto finally let her bite the bullet. Peony Carrow wouldn’t get away from her own personal hell so easily.

“They could all be fatal, with the correct dosage,” she replied, raising an eyebrow at Antonin. “She won’t get that pleasure, though. Not for a while yet. There’s use being a healer at St. Mungo’s, after all.”

Her lips twitched up in amusement as Antonin watched his cup carefully, making sure he wasn’t given the poisoned one, and perhaps he was more perceptive than she’d thought. They’d come to her home so she could show off her poisons--why not show them in action? At least, she noted when they were in the master bedroom, Antonin listened to instructions well. The spell he used was a nice touch as it restrained her mother and pried her jaw open, all while letting him not touch the skeletal woman at all. It wasn’t often Alecto was impressed, but she certainly approved. Maybe she could restrain the woman more, prevent her from dealing with her pain properly, but that was neither here nor there. For now, she had tea to serve.

“Now you simply watch,” she said before pouring the scalding liquid down her mother’s throat, relishing in the way she choked on it until she was forced to swallow or risk drowning. 

It wasn’t long for the poison to take affect, and once it did her mother began flailing on the bed as best as she could against her restraints, her scream loud and unyielding. Alecto was unperturbed by the sound, simply stepping back from the edge of the bed and grabbing a notebook to write down the reactions. She was only briefly hesitant in using her one muggle indulgence--a simple inkwell pen--but scribbled away anyway, noting every detail she saw regarding her mother’s reactions to the mixture. Her eyes flickered to Antonin, and she looked up to meet his eyes.

“My goal here,” she began. “is to create a mixture that mimics the affects of the Cruciatus Curse exactly. It would allow a constant stream of torture rather than a curse dependent on the caster, though the only downside would be the inability to stop it long enough to get answers. Frankly, though, I suspect anyone who used this concoction isn’t in the business of interrogation rather than pure torture.” She glanced back at her bother and cast silencio, allowing her to think better. “It’s a bit weaker than I’d like at the moment, but I believe I’m almost there. Perhaps more deathroot would suffice.”

[sweetpoiscn]

amxcuscarrow‌:

Jezebel.

He heard the titters amidst the crowd at that little jibe and he stared, at a loss,  as to what could have elicited such a response in his sister — whatever it was it had certainly hit a nerve in her. Amycus knew his sister’s temper as a shapeless mercurial beast he’d grown up with, uncertain and unpredictable but with very clear warning signs. He could see almost all of those right now. 

“I,” his voice was flat, forehead furrowing in the face of an ever escalating rage that he really wasn’t equipped to decipher, “Didn’t tell you.”

And Amycus had never been overly adept at navigating anyone’s feelings, least of all his own, but there was something in the derisive laughter and acid on Alecto’s tongue that spoke to when they’d been at Hogwarts and she’d caught someone gossiping about them. It was .. hurt. And her instinct had always been to hurt back. 

He coiled inward at the murmurs that seemed to buzz in his ears, too many eyes and too many tongues and too many ears in this room all honed in on Alecto’s loud proclamations that made his skin felt prickly and hot, shoulders creeping upwards like he could burrow into himself if he tried hard enough. “Amelia doesn’t—” he started to say before finding himself unable to repeat the word fancy, or over the moon or —

Clearly he’d upset Alecto, somehow, and now she was playing a cruel joke to get back at him. To make him think that Amelia, who was kind to him and spent time with him and sometimes laughed at him like he was funny, might possibly — could ever —

His sister was rarely cruel these days, towards him at least. It settled heavily, angrily, in his stomach. His own voice, until then shocked and soft, took on a decidedly sharper edge, “Don’t be absurd.”

Defiance lingered in the set of his jaw, in his dark and stubborn expression, “Amelia is my friend. We eat lunch together. I—” it was easy enough to get caught up in the latent stirrings of sibling squabbles where Alecto had ripped up his books or he’d smashed all her potion vials and reel in towards her, his own voice growing in volume and eyes wide and indignant, “—I like spending time with her. And you’re being—” he stabbed a finger arbitrarily at a face in the crowd without looking, “—You’re being very unreasonable about this. There are people.”

I didn’t tell you. No shit.

Alecto could feel herself trembling as she tried to hold back the truest extent of her rage, because as much as she loved being able to cause a scene and embarrass Amycus, she didn’t want to fully embarrass herself as well. If she fully let go, she could very well take down this entire atrium, and that would get her a one-way ticket to Azkaban if nothing else. She couldn’t afford that, none of them could, so she took a deep breath and ignored how her fingernails dug into her palms hard enough that she knew she’d find crescent-moon indents in the flesh.

And he actually thought Alecto was making Amelia’s crush up. Oh, how oblivious, she knew this would happen if Amelia Bones wormed her way under her brother’s skin and planted herself there. Amelia had to go get feelings for him, and if his sputtering and utter denial of what she said was any indication, then Amycus was reciprocating those feelings whether he realized it or not. The sharp edge of his words was only further proof to her hypothesis, and Alecto knew she had to save Amycus from what she saw to be inevitable heartbreak.

No one liked people like them. 

“She told me so herself,” she said coolly, eyes glancing around the crowd to see if Amelia was watching this spectacle. She’d begged Alecto not to tell Amycus about her crush, but Alecto had never made such a promise--and if she had, no one said she kept her word to people she didn’t like. “It was all very domestic, really. Talking about her crush on my brother over tea, you’d think we were friends.” She rolled her eyes and listened to Amycus go on, his own voice getting louder to match her own volume. 

Good, let the atrium hear them.

“I’m sorry, when did we keep things from each other? Important things? Are you ashamed of her, brother? Some friendship that is.” She barked out a laugh. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell me about this, Amycus! At home, over meals, while we were getting ice cream--plenty of times in private, and you never said a word. You’re the reason this is public. So tell me: why wouldn’t you think to tell me about this friend you like spending time with?”