Lestrange Cadeau
The heavy wooden door swung open with a fumbled clatter and a few muttered curses. Rodolphus Lestrange kicked it shut behind him, his hands being otherwise occupied. He returned the ornate iron key to his pocket and held out the package he was carrying for a quick inspection. Its wrapping had become somewhat crumpled from being tucked under one arm and he took a moment to smooth it into a more presentable shape. Then, holding it out before him like an offering, he strode down the hall to the sitting room. He tried rather unsuccessfully to mask his smug grin behind a bored expression.
“Oh, Bellatrix!” he called.
The dark-haired woman acknowledged his presence with an exasperated grunt. She pulled herself upright on the sofa she’d been sprawled upon and turned to glare at him. “What is it?” she snapped roughly. A newspaper slid from her lap to the floor; the page it was folded open to contained a photograph of the man that both Lestranges referred to as their lord and their master. Bellatrix had been happily gallivanting through her imagination with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and she was displeased at her husband’s interruption.
Rodolphus perched on the sofa by Bellatrix’s feet and held out the nondescript package. “I’ve brought you something,” he announced.
Bellatrix held her pouting frown for another moment, glaring at him and his offering balefully. “Well, what is it then?” she grumbled, taking the box and impatiently tearing off its wrappings. She cast a sideways look at Rodolphus before she opened it; Bella clearly wasn’t expecting to be impressed by the contents. There was a bored look in the Death Eater’s dark eyes as she lifted the lid and looked within, but they lit up when she saw what lay inside.
“Is this…?” she asked, staring at the small, bloody form.
“…a Muggle infant?” Rodolphus finished for her. “It is indeed. I found it this afternoon and thought of you instantly.”
Bellatrix grinned and a shrill giggle escaped her lips. “How charming!” she said.
Rodolphus beamed, smugness practically radiating from the Death Eater’s slim, overdressed form. His own eyes glittered with pleasure and for a moment, the pale, thin Wizard actually looked charming.
“Do you know what we should do?” Bella asked, her voice girlish and teasing.
“What, dearie?” Rodolphus asked, leaning in closer to his pretty, deadly wife.
Her red-lipped smile spread across her ghostly skin like a bloody wound. “We should go to a playground,” she murmured excitedly.
“Whatever for?” Rodolphus asked, eyebrows raising.
“A Muggle playground,” Bellatrix specified slyly.
Her husband’s expression mirrored her own. “What a lovely idea,” Rodolphus whispered. He brushed Bella’s curls back from her face and she laughed.
“What can I say? Your present has inspired me.” Bella rocked to her feet, grinning. She pulled her long, walnuty-dark wand from her lacy sleeve and gave it a few practice waves. “Well?” she asked sharply. “Are you coming?”
“Always,” Rodolphus said with a dark grin that matched her own. He moved the package with its charming, bloody contents to the back of the sofa where it would be secure, then stood up and fished in his vest pocket for the house key.
Bellatrix nearly skipped her way to the front door. Rodolphus locked it behind them both and held out his hand to his wife. They laced their fingers together and turned in the air, disappearing with a CRACK and a shrill, chilling laugh.
“Oh, Bellatrix!” he called.
The dark-haired woman acknowledged his presence with an exasperated grunt. She pulled herself upright on the sofa she’d been sprawled upon and turned to glare at him. “What is it?” she snapped roughly. A newspaper slid from her lap to the floor; the page it was folded open to contained a photograph of the man that both Lestranges referred to as their lord and their master. Bellatrix had been happily gallivanting through her imagination with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and she was displeased at her husband’s interruption.
Rodolphus perched on the sofa by Bellatrix’s feet and held out the nondescript package. “I’ve brought you something,” he announced.
Bellatrix held her pouting frown for another moment, glaring at him and his offering balefully. “Well, what is it then?” she grumbled, taking the box and impatiently tearing off its wrappings. She cast a sideways look at Rodolphus before she opened it; Bella clearly wasn’t expecting to be impressed by the contents. There was a bored look in the Death Eater’s dark eyes as she lifted the lid and looked within, but they lit up when she saw what lay inside.
“Is this…?” she asked, staring at the small, bloody form.
“…a Muggle infant?” Rodolphus finished for her. “It is indeed. I found it this afternoon and thought of you instantly.”
Bellatrix grinned and a shrill giggle escaped her lips. “How charming!” she said.
Rodolphus beamed, smugness practically radiating from the Death Eater’s slim, overdressed form. His own eyes glittered with pleasure and for a moment, the pale, thin Wizard actually looked charming.
“Do you know what we should do?” Bella asked, her voice girlish and teasing.
“What, dearie?” Rodolphus asked, leaning in closer to his pretty, deadly wife.
Her red-lipped smile spread across her ghostly skin like a bloody wound. “We should go to a playground,” she murmured excitedly.
“Whatever for?” Rodolphus asked, eyebrows raising.
“A Muggle playground,” Bellatrix specified slyly.
Her husband’s expression mirrored her own. “What a lovely idea,” Rodolphus whispered. He brushed Bella’s curls back from her face and she laughed.
“What can I say? Your present has inspired me.” Bella rocked to her feet, grinning. She pulled her long, walnuty-dark wand from her lacy sleeve and gave it a few practice waves. “Well?” she asked sharply. “Are you coming?”
“Always,” Rodolphus said with a dark grin that matched her own. He moved the package with its charming, bloody contents to the back of the sofa where it would be secure, then stood up and fished in his vest pocket for the house key.
Bellatrix nearly skipped her way to the front door. Rodolphus locked it behind them both and held out his hand to his wife. They laced their fingers together and turned in the air, disappearing with a CRACK and a shrill, chilling laugh.