(no subject)
Who: Bellatrix, Severus, later the Dark Lord
When: 1 July
Where: first, the library at the Malfoy Estate, then...
What: Discussion of hiring practises of the Death Eaters
Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap.
Bellatrix sighed, realising that her restless energy was getting on her own nerves, and started rolling her quill between her fingers, since at least that was a quiet habit. Frowning, she stared down at the parchment in front of her, etched across with lines and scribbled over with notations. Setting down the quill, she picked up her wand and tapped a corner of the parchment. The lines she had been looking at faded down, to be replaced with another set, bleeding their way across the paper until fully visible.
She was sitting at a desk in the library of the Malfoy Estate, trying to sketch out the floorplan of Azkaban prison, at least so far as she could remember. Sooner or later, she reasoned, they were going to need such a map. Sooner or later, the Dark Lord would decide that his servants had paid enough penalty for getting themselves caught, and would want them freed. Bellatrix was more and more frequently hoping it would be sooner. It had already been over a year; though she would not, of course, ever criticise her Lord's decisions, and assumed he had a perfectly good reason for allowing their extended incarceration, but she had been expecting for months now to hear the order to free the, and...
Well, she missed her husband.
Not that she would be likely to admit that, if asked. And entirely apart from Rodolphus, there were yet a number of other Death Eaters kept in Azkaban who could be put to much better use. The Battle of the Tower had showed quite clearly that some of the newer recruits were, well, not quite up to proper caliber.
But the plans were problematic. The prison had been designed to be a labyrinth, intentionally difficult to navigate. It didn't help, of course, that she'd been barely conscious when she'd left the place, and though she had been in full possession of her senses when she'd gone in, that had been some years previous. She had to do her best, though. Bella took up her quill again, trying to estimate the distance from the wing she'd been kept in to the outer wall.
Tap. Tap tap tap.
When: 1 July
Where: first, the library at the Malfoy Estate, then...
What: Discussion of hiring practises of the Death Eaters
Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap.
Bellatrix sighed, realising that her restless energy was getting on her own nerves, and started rolling her quill between her fingers, since at least that was a quiet habit. Frowning, she stared down at the parchment in front of her, etched across with lines and scribbled over with notations. Setting down the quill, she picked up her wand and tapped a corner of the parchment. The lines she had been looking at faded down, to be replaced with another set, bleeding their way across the paper until fully visible.
She was sitting at a desk in the library of the Malfoy Estate, trying to sketch out the floorplan of Azkaban prison, at least so far as she could remember. Sooner or later, she reasoned, they were going to need such a map. Sooner or later, the Dark Lord would decide that his servants had paid enough penalty for getting themselves caught, and would want them freed. Bellatrix was more and more frequently hoping it would be sooner. It had already been over a year; though she would not, of course, ever criticise her Lord's decisions, and assumed he had a perfectly good reason for allowing their extended incarceration, but she had been expecting for months now to hear the order to free the, and...
Well, she missed her husband.
Not that she would be likely to admit that, if asked. And entirely apart from Rodolphus, there were yet a number of other Death Eaters kept in Azkaban who could be put to much better use. The Battle of the Tower had showed quite clearly that some of the newer recruits were, well, not quite up to proper caliber.
But the plans were problematic. The prison had been designed to be a labyrinth, intentionally difficult to navigate. It didn't help, of course, that she'd been barely conscious when she'd left the place, and though she had been in full possession of her senses when she'd gone in, that had been some years previous. She had to do her best, though. Bella took up her quill again, trying to estimate the distance from the wing she'd been kept in to the outer wall.
Tap. Tap tap tap.