leaning against the long ravenclaw table, bellatrix lifted her goblet in a half-hearted salute to the girl across the aisle. ❝ you’d think the stockholm syndrome would kick in by now. ❞ bellatrix intoned dryly, sounding classically herself. she hadn’t truly come over to complain, but to confide. long legs crossing as she took her seat. it was always as if whatever space she occupied was suddenly her’s. and perhaps, it was. her smile lifted as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice, although it might be wine. her confident air made it hard to tell. ❝ i have a theory. ❞ //@ahlectos













