Prompt 12- Deliverance of Fear
Title: Deliverance of Fear
Author:
summoning_muse
Format & Word Count: Fic, 2773 words + doodle on cheap drawing paper and pencil
Rating: PG/PG13
Prompt: #12, Andromeda galaxy
Warning: Slightly disturbing imagery... though really not much. Insane Bellatrix?
Summary: She stares into the mirror, and sees her past gazing back, threatening to consume her wonderful, bright present. I will destroy everything, or anyone, you have ever loved or cherished.
Author's Note: Ok, this one I completly twisted to my use. I saw it and went, OOHH, I CAN WRITE THAT STORY I'VE HAD IN MY HEAD! Anyway, this is based off a drawing I drew on the way to Snowboarding. Since it is a doodle, ignore things such as how dirty and disproportionate it is, please and thank you :). It will be added to the bottom of this fic under the cut, and if this is somehow against the rules please tell me mods and I'll fix it. Prompt 16- which I've finished writing a few days ago but I had to wait till I was done with this to put up, is a sequel-of-sorts, so if anyone could read them in a pair, I'd be thankful :).
The song-muse's for this fic are Regina Spektor's Lacrimosa and Lady and Vanessa Carlton's Half A Week Before the Winter, in which I altered a line from it (And though I've given him his empire/ He delivers me my fear) to get the title. (This fic didn't want to be named, and I still don't like the name. It sounds like some terrible emo ravingh.) And, lastly, just like my previous entry Two Step, I unconsciously drew inspiration- almost plagiarism- from another amazing fic I read. This would be a challenge fic someone had
fernwithy write, about Dora and Remus finding out that Ted is dead. I didn't mean for it to seep so completly in here, but try as I could I could find nothing but The Raven to fit for the cut prose- I searched through my songs desperately, but alas... Oh, well, at least I used a different stanza- actually a combination of two- than her. *Sighs*
Deliverance of Fear
She was in the play room; bright and lovely with airy windows and Nymphadora's dollies and toys scattered haphazardly around, it was a seemingly endless task, cleaning up after a young toddler. Of course, she had to clean up after her husband as well, being the only one in the family whom seemed to value cleanliness.
She smiled fondly, and glanced around, looking for her daughter, or her husband perhaps, but the house was silent. Eerily silent. This house was never silent- they might not be a very large family -yet- but between Dora and Ted, there never seemed to be a quiet moment to be spared. At times, it drove her quite literally up the wall and she'd scream and shut herself in her room just for a moment of blessed silence. However, this felt wrong. She felt out of sorts and deeply troubled without that constant, wonderful, lunatic noise- with the silence she would remember her childhood home. The unnatural silence of three well-behaved young daughters, except, of course, when the eldest got it in her mind to torture one of the younger, littler ones, or one of the littlest cousins, of course. Then the silence would be broken by screams. Usually hers because whenever Bella attempted to harm Cissy, Andromeda would jump in the way and take the punishment, not being able to bare to see her baby sister hurt. Or little Sirius's.
Bella had always had a fondness for torturing her and Sirius. Sirius had always protected Regulus just as passionately as she had Cissy. Bella always had adored to break and trample protectors.
And the protectors tended to be disowned by the family in the end.
She shook off these morbid thoughts, not allowing herself to fall into that house, even as she felt it's dark tendrils reach out and wrap around her mind and soul, attempting to drag her down and drown her. She crept around carefully, softly calling out "Nymphadora? Ted? Darlings?" as she skirted the hazards on the floor Nymphadora always seemed to trip over- and that's when she first heard the sound- tap, tap, tap, tap.
It could be anything- a young girl tap dancing to her own beat, the rain playing along the windows, perhaps even a woodpecker building a nest, though that last one was highly improbable- and yet the sound was sinister and foreboding and she knew, inherently, that it was not any of these lovely things, that it was something terrible and horrifying- tap, tap, tap.
She glanced around hesitantly, clutching her arms tightly as gooseflesh sprung up of it's own accord, and called a bit louder "Loves? Are you here?". The tap, tap, tapping did not grow any louder, but still echoed eerily in the utter silence. A deep feeling of unease was settling over her, as she carefully stepped through the doorway into the sitting room. She glanced around, and noticed a discrepancy along the wall, where there should simply be flowered wallpaper- something that ebbed and flowed, hazy and rippled as if what she saw was a terribly hot road in the middle of a scorching, arid desert , and she carefully stepped towards it. The tapping seemed to be issuing from the ripples, and it continued on with it's terrifying mantra, it's recurring rhythm- tap, tap, tap, tap.
It was a distortion in her lovely, messy, lively home, that pulled and tugged her in to examine it, and she did not even notice the tendrils issuing from inside of it, wrapping around her, corrupting. As she inched closer the discrepancy materialized into an elaborate mirror, the majestic frame set with ancient golden figures- twirling stems and flowers wrought elegantly into it's crevices, entwining with serpents and cobras and any matter of dark creatures.
Her heart leapt into her throat and she stifled a gasp- she knew that mirror. It has stood imposingly, majestically, terribly in the sitting room of her childhood home. The room had been airy and bright with colours and scattered with portraits of wizards and witches long-since dead, all surrounding a sweeping ballroom staircase that led to the upper-story bedrooms. The older she aged the clearer she realized the acute irony in this, the more she realized that everything the mirror reflected was a lie. The mirror itself was a totem to this lie- it seemed at first to be beautiful and wondrous, but on closer examination one could see the tortured individuals withering inside the elegant, lovely frame. Could observe the scarlet blood trickling and streaming along it's crevices, seeping into it's every corner and nitch- the blackest, darkest tainted blood, of the appropriately named House of Black.
She hesitantly approached this reminiscent of her disowned childhood, mentally tracing it's elaborate lines- a daisy, a poppy, a golden twisted vulture's head.... the reflection in the mirror was warped, composed of hazy colors and figures, reminding her of an auror's Foe Glass, twisting and turning- but yet, penetrating from within this non-reflection was that sound, that terrible sound- tap tap tap. She turned around to see if her surroundings had changed at all, to make sure that she was still in her true home, but they remained the same. There was the wicker basket for the kitten, there was the vase that Ted's mum had given them as a wedding gift, and she had the urge to throw at the wall some day, allowing to it being so devastatingly ugly. There was one of Nymphadora's pink dollies- she could never seem to keep her mess to play room or her own....
She glanced back into the mirror, trying to reassure herself that all was well, and jumped back in shock. Her heart started hammering an insane tempo in her chest. Reflected was that house, the house of her memories, but it was as it truly had been, not the mask of warmth and friendship and hospitality that hid it's lies and deceit. It was dirty, and it was black, and it was vile- the beautiful paintings had transformed into graying, decaying skulls. And yet it was still, undeniably, her house. The terrible house that would always belong in a part of her soul, as much as she tried to surround it with the laughter of her daughter and the odd jokes of her silly, beloved husband.
But worse, unprecedentedly worse was the reflection cast by the mirror. She hesitantly lifted her trembling hand and tentatively touched the mirror, staring at the glint of her golden wedding band for reassurance, and the reflection mimicked her action. The vestige in the mirror has the same high cheekbones as her, the same graceful swan-like neck, the same strong jaw and defined, pointed nose; the same long, ebony eyelashes. Her lips were full, however, where the reflection's were thin and insubstantial. And where she was pale though- never as pale as Cissy of course, but still fair-skinned- the reflection's skin was dark, tanned.
The imposter's hair was the most distinct difference between the two- where Andromeda's was fluffy and soft and brown, the reflections was coarse and black, yet beautifully curled, which still did not seem to subtract from the pure wrath and cruel discontent that seemed to be emitted from those locks. Their eyes were the same oval shape, the same shade of deep hazelnut, and yet the reflection's were heavily hooded- cruel. And within them there was a contempt, a hatred, and yet also a terrible mischievous, malicious glint, and the reflection twitched up her thin lips in a cruel, sardonic smile while Andromeda's features twisted into absolute terror and horror. Yet she could not pull away- could not look away.
And then there was her hand- her palms and tendons and long fingers, that she placed against the mirror. But where her pristine, simple nails met the edge of the mirror, the duplicate drummed her claws. And the blood of men rusted under those nail beds. And they tapped the mirror, as hers shook but could not fathom pulling away, tapped those vile, vicious claws against the glass in a familiar manta- tap, tap, tap.
She wanted to draw away in horror, in fright, but she seemed to be spellbound- some curse or charm kept her literally glued to this scene. Or, perhaps, it was the blood flowing through her own veins; the blood that would not allow her to ever truly escape it's expectations. All she could do was curl her other hand protectively to her breast. The reflection stopped mocking her, and her other arm reached down, pulled out a long wand, and tapped it against the glass once, still smiling sarcastically. And her claws drummed on- tap, tap, tap, tap.
Bella's lips moved, and sound was not penetrable through the distance between their worlds, but Andromeda could read her lips, and she could hear Bella's low murmur's in her ears as if she was whispering into her ears.
"Hello, dear sister." Her smiled widened, her teeth gleaming, "I could kill you. Just with a curse. I could kill you right now."
'Do it then. Do it. It will and it reflect and kill you as well. And then my husband and child will be finally safe from you."
She arched a severe, dark eyebrow and answered Andromeda's thoughts. "You're right, of course, dear Andromeda. Not in the way you are thinking, but I can't kill off my own sister. Your child and husband are a different matter, of course." She laughed, and Andromeda could feel it's bone-chilling sound echo through her veins. "I can't kill off someone so closely intersected with my blood- why, we are nearly twins in appearance! You and I, dear sister. We are reflections in this mirror, how could I ever kill someone so unfathomably intertwined with myself?" Tap, tap, tap, tap
"We are nothing alike. You are as different from me as possible Bella, we are nothing alike."
"You think so?" She asked lightly, almost conversationally, "No, we are forever entwined dear sister, like the magnificent rose and the vile weed that forever suffocates the other. Entwined and cast together by our blood- neither of us can escape it!" She was growing maniac, trembling with beauty and power and her utmost sense of justice. "No, I will save you, dear sister, and punish you for your indiscretion." Her beautiful features contorted with rage. "How dare you defile this house of our fathers! How dare you!" Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.
'That house will eat you alive, Bella. Do you not see the way it consumes you even now?' And indeed, the house seemed to be growing darker, blacker, more truly evil than it had ever been. It's edges crept lower, closer to Bella, closer to consuming her alive. And all the while she continued drumming her claws, though the motion was quicker now, riled with acute agitation- tap, tap, tap tap tap tap. Andromeda turned around and glanced over her shoulder- her house grew brighter, the colors more vivid. She, with a new-found sense of purpose, turned back to her past.
"These are the old ways, the true ways, Andromeda, this is how the world should rightfully be. The superior race ruling over the weaker, moronic, vile underlings. Those of pure, noble blood not fraternizing with those vile dogs whom claim to be human. Keeping their descendants pure- not allowing the revolting filth to contaminate it's brilliant legacy! You are desecrating your heritage, you are upending our noble way of life! I can never kill you, but do not think for a moment that I can forgive you that easily. No, I must commit acts of euthanasia." She leaned closer to the window, almost pressing her once-graceful nose against the glass; her face was contaminated with her rage and true intentions, and they twisted her gorgeous, lovely face into a grotesque, twisted countenance. The true shape of her soul finally exposed upon her features. And Andromeda was scared, frightened to death, that she would fall through this insubstantial barrier; fall into her bright colorful world, and carry with her terrifying destruction and vengeance. She would twist and turn Andromeda's lovely world into the hell she couldn't draw her eyes away from. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"I will destroy everything you hold precious, Andi-dandy." She sneered her childhood nickname at her. "I will destroy the light from your life, and return you to your rightful place! If it takes me the rest of my life, I will hunt down and kill your mudblood husband." She spat out the name with contempt, "And your monstrosity of a child. I will destroy everything, or anyone, you have ever loved or cherished." And as she spoke these words her wand was absorbing the light, casting Andromeda's haven into darkness, into the House of Black, stealing her light, as her claws slowed down, sensing their victory, until it was slower than the beat of her heart-
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She was stealing-
"Mummy?" Bella smirked sarcastically, her features lighting up in cruel delight as she raised her wand higher, and Andromeda finally wrenched herself away from the terrible mirror, to spin around, to grab Nymphadora, because she would not let her sister have her child, she would not-
"MUM!"
Andromeda woke up, panting, clutching her sheets in a death grip around her fingers to her breast, Bellatrix's mantra still ringing in her ears- tap, tap, tap. The details, the vividness of the dream were leaking away from her as if water through her fingers; trickling away from her conscious, but she could still feel the absolute horror and fright of dream. Could remember starring into the imposing mirror and Bella smirking back...
Dora was staring at her, worried, her light eyebrows knit up. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, the impressive swell of her stomach protruding under her night shirt (Andromeda tried not to notice that her article of clothing was only thrown haphazardly on, the sleeves slipping completely off her shoulders, and turned inside out. It was not the most comforting though to think too deeply about what her daughter could have just been up to, even if she was married and with child. She kept a permanent Silencing Hex on her door for a reason.) A tall, lanky figure stood in the doorway; arms crossed, eyebrows knit together in worry and jaw set in a deep frown. Remus offered her a small half smile, and she attempted to return it.
'Well, at least he had time to get dressed again.' She couldn't help but think darkly, but quickly shook it off and focused on her daughter. "I'm fine Dora- fine."
"Mum, you were shaking insanely, and you were screaming, and I hardly think that's fine, and-" Andromeda untangled her hand from her bed sheets and lifted to shush her daughter, placing her other on her breast. She took a few deep, controlled, slow breaths to calm herself down. She had dreamt this nightmare once before, she was sure, when Dora was a tiny girl, and she had to glance at her bureau mirror- simple and wooden and plain- and trace the aged lines of her face; the loss of tautness, the deepening of the eye; to remind herself she was not twenty-something anymore with a small child. That position now was going to belong to Dora. Bellatrix had never gotten her, yet, had as of yet not reached her poor, in exile, husband whom had to run for his life from the likes of her; had only caught her favorite cousin... only. Only killed Sirius in cold blood, only was out there somewhere in the cold, cruel night, starking mad, with the ability and capacity to murder and destroy again, and again-
And a sudden, horrible, terrible fear for Dora, for her and Remus's unborn child, bubbled up inside her, threatened to consume her alive, and she collapsed, gripping her knees tightly, trying to fight it off. Nothing could happen to them, nothing could happen to them, not with Ted gone, not with-
"Mum!" Dora awkwardly attempted to scoot up next to her and embrace her but Remus carefully, hesitantly cleared his throat. It was a terrible sound and Andromeda stared at him in absolute horror and fright.
"There's an owl." he whispered, and sure enough, there was a tapping at the window; a large imposing object tap, tap, tapping outside in the cool March night- the sound of claws on glass. Tap, tap, tap.
I will destroy everything, or anyone, you have ever loved or cherished.
The owl continued tapping the rhythm of death.
Author:
summoning_muse
Format & Word Count: Fic, 2773 words + doodle on cheap drawing paper and pencil
Rating: PG/PG13
Prompt: #12, Andromeda galaxy
Warning: Slightly disturbing imagery... though really not much. Insane Bellatrix?
Summary: She stares into the mirror, and sees her past gazing back, threatening to consume her wonderful, bright present. I will destroy everything, or anyone, you have ever loved or cherished.
Author's Note: Ok, this one I completly twisted to my use. I saw it and went, OOHH, I CAN WRITE THAT STORY I'VE HAD IN MY HEAD! Anyway, this is based off a drawing I drew on the way to Snowboarding. Since it is a doodle, ignore things such as how dirty and disproportionate it is, please and thank you :). It will be added to the bottom of this fic under the cut, and if this is somehow against the rules please tell me mods and I'll fix it. Prompt 16- which I've finished writing a few days ago but I had to wait till I was done with this to put up, is a sequel-of-sorts, so if anyone could read them in a pair, I'd be thankful :).
The song-muse's for this fic are Regina Spektor's Lacrimosa and Lady and Vanessa Carlton's Half A Week Before the Winter, in which I altered a line from it (And though I've given him his empire/ He delivers me my fear) to get the title. (This fic didn't want to be named, and I still don't like the name. It sounds like some terrible emo ravingh.) And, lastly, just like my previous entry Two Step, I unconsciously drew inspiration- almost plagiarism- from another amazing fic I read. This would be a challenge fic someone had
fernwithy write, about Dora and Remus finding out that Ted is dead. I didn't mean for it to seep so completly in here, but try as I could I could find nothing but The Raven to fit for the cut prose- I searched through my songs desperately, but alas... Oh, well, at least I used a different stanza- actually a combination of two- than her. *Sighs*
Deliverance of Fear
She was in the play room; bright and lovely with airy windows and Nymphadora's dollies and toys scattered haphazardly around, it was a seemingly endless task, cleaning up after a young toddler. Of course, she had to clean up after her husband as well, being the only one in the family whom seemed to value cleanliness.
She smiled fondly, and glanced around, looking for her daughter, or her husband perhaps, but the house was silent. Eerily silent. This house was never silent- they might not be a very large family -yet- but between Dora and Ted, there never seemed to be a quiet moment to be spared. At times, it drove her quite literally up the wall and she'd scream and shut herself in her room just for a moment of blessed silence. However, this felt wrong. She felt out of sorts and deeply troubled without that constant, wonderful, lunatic noise- with the silence she would remember her childhood home. The unnatural silence of three well-behaved young daughters, except, of course, when the eldest got it in her mind to torture one of the younger, littler ones, or one of the littlest cousins, of course. Then the silence would be broken by screams. Usually hers because whenever Bella attempted to harm Cissy, Andromeda would jump in the way and take the punishment, not being able to bare to see her baby sister hurt. Or little Sirius's.
Bella had always had a fondness for torturing her and Sirius. Sirius had always protected Regulus just as passionately as she had Cissy. Bella always had adored to break and trample protectors.
And the protectors tended to be disowned by the family in the end.
She shook off these morbid thoughts, not allowing herself to fall into that house, even as she felt it's dark tendrils reach out and wrap around her mind and soul, attempting to drag her down and drown her. She crept around carefully, softly calling out "Nymphadora? Ted? Darlings?" as she skirted the hazards on the floor Nymphadora always seemed to trip over- and that's when she first heard the sound- tap, tap, tap, tap.
It could be anything- a young girl tap dancing to her own beat, the rain playing along the windows, perhaps even a woodpecker building a nest, though that last one was highly improbable- and yet the sound was sinister and foreboding and she knew, inherently, that it was not any of these lovely things, that it was something terrible and horrifying- tap, tap, tap.
She glanced around hesitantly, clutching her arms tightly as gooseflesh sprung up of it's own accord, and called a bit louder "Loves? Are you here?". The tap, tap, tapping did not grow any louder, but still echoed eerily in the utter silence. A deep feeling of unease was settling over her, as she carefully stepped through the doorway into the sitting room. She glanced around, and noticed a discrepancy along the wall, where there should simply be flowered wallpaper- something that ebbed and flowed, hazy and rippled as if what she saw was a terribly hot road in the middle of a scorching, arid desert , and she carefully stepped towards it. The tapping seemed to be issuing from the ripples, and it continued on with it's terrifying mantra, it's recurring rhythm- tap, tap, tap, tap.
It was a distortion in her lovely, messy, lively home, that pulled and tugged her in to examine it, and she did not even notice the tendrils issuing from inside of it, wrapping around her, corrupting. As she inched closer the discrepancy materialized into an elaborate mirror, the majestic frame set with ancient golden figures- twirling stems and flowers wrought elegantly into it's crevices, entwining with serpents and cobras and any matter of dark creatures.
Her heart leapt into her throat and she stifled a gasp- she knew that mirror. It has stood imposingly, majestically, terribly in the sitting room of her childhood home. The room had been airy and bright with colours and scattered with portraits of wizards and witches long-since dead, all surrounding a sweeping ballroom staircase that led to the upper-story bedrooms. The older she aged the clearer she realized the acute irony in this, the more she realized that everything the mirror reflected was a lie. The mirror itself was a totem to this lie- it seemed at first to be beautiful and wondrous, but on closer examination one could see the tortured individuals withering inside the elegant, lovely frame. Could observe the scarlet blood trickling and streaming along it's crevices, seeping into it's every corner and nitch- the blackest, darkest tainted blood, of the appropriately named House of Black.
She hesitantly approached this reminiscent of her disowned childhood, mentally tracing it's elaborate lines- a daisy, a poppy, a golden twisted vulture's head.... the reflection in the mirror was warped, composed of hazy colors and figures, reminding her of an auror's Foe Glass, twisting and turning- but yet, penetrating from within this non-reflection was that sound, that terrible sound- tap tap tap. She turned around to see if her surroundings had changed at all, to make sure that she was still in her true home, but they remained the same. There was the wicker basket for the kitten, there was the vase that Ted's mum had given them as a wedding gift, and she had the urge to throw at the wall some day, allowing to it being so devastatingly ugly. There was one of Nymphadora's pink dollies- she could never seem to keep her mess to play room or her own....
She glanced back into the mirror, trying to reassure herself that all was well, and jumped back in shock. Her heart started hammering an insane tempo in her chest. Reflected was that house, the house of her memories, but it was as it truly had been, not the mask of warmth and friendship and hospitality that hid it's lies and deceit. It was dirty, and it was black, and it was vile- the beautiful paintings had transformed into graying, decaying skulls. And yet it was still, undeniably, her house. The terrible house that would always belong in a part of her soul, as much as she tried to surround it with the laughter of her daughter and the odd jokes of her silly, beloved husband.
But worse, unprecedentedly worse was the reflection cast by the mirror. She hesitantly lifted her trembling hand and tentatively touched the mirror, staring at the glint of her golden wedding band for reassurance, and the reflection mimicked her action. The vestige in the mirror has the same high cheekbones as her, the same graceful swan-like neck, the same strong jaw and defined, pointed nose; the same long, ebony eyelashes. Her lips were full, however, where the reflection's were thin and insubstantial. And where she was pale though- never as pale as Cissy of course, but still fair-skinned- the reflection's skin was dark, tanned.
The imposter's hair was the most distinct difference between the two- where Andromeda's was fluffy and soft and brown, the reflections was coarse and black, yet beautifully curled, which still did not seem to subtract from the pure wrath and cruel discontent that seemed to be emitted from those locks. Their eyes were the same oval shape, the same shade of deep hazelnut, and yet the reflection's were heavily hooded- cruel. And within them there was a contempt, a hatred, and yet also a terrible mischievous, malicious glint, and the reflection twitched up her thin lips in a cruel, sardonic smile while Andromeda's features twisted into absolute terror and horror. Yet she could not pull away- could not look away.
And then there was her hand- her palms and tendons and long fingers, that she placed against the mirror. But where her pristine, simple nails met the edge of the mirror, the duplicate drummed her claws. And the blood of men rusted under those nail beds. And they tapped the mirror, as hers shook but could not fathom pulling away, tapped those vile, vicious claws against the glass in a familiar manta- tap, tap, tap.
She wanted to draw away in horror, in fright, but she seemed to be spellbound- some curse or charm kept her literally glued to this scene. Or, perhaps, it was the blood flowing through her own veins; the blood that would not allow her to ever truly escape it's expectations. All she could do was curl her other hand protectively to her breast. The reflection stopped mocking her, and her other arm reached down, pulled out a long wand, and tapped it against the glass once, still smiling sarcastically. And her claws drummed on- tap, tap, tap, tap.
Bella's lips moved, and sound was not penetrable through the distance between their worlds, but Andromeda could read her lips, and she could hear Bella's low murmur's in her ears as if she was whispering into her ears.
"Hello, dear sister." Her smiled widened, her teeth gleaming, "I could kill you. Just with a curse. I could kill you right now."
'Do it then. Do it. It will and it reflect and kill you as well. And then my husband and child will be finally safe from you."
She arched a severe, dark eyebrow and answered Andromeda's thoughts. "You're right, of course, dear Andromeda. Not in the way you are thinking, but I can't kill off my own sister. Your child and husband are a different matter, of course." She laughed, and Andromeda could feel it's bone-chilling sound echo through her veins. "I can't kill off someone so closely intersected with my blood- why, we are nearly twins in appearance! You and I, dear sister. We are reflections in this mirror, how could I ever kill someone so unfathomably intertwined with myself?" Tap, tap, tap, tap
"We are nothing alike. You are as different from me as possible Bella, we are nothing alike."
"You think so?" She asked lightly, almost conversationally, "No, we are forever entwined dear sister, like the magnificent rose and the vile weed that forever suffocates the other. Entwined and cast together by our blood- neither of us can escape it!" She was growing maniac, trembling with beauty and power and her utmost sense of justice. "No, I will save you, dear sister, and punish you for your indiscretion." Her beautiful features contorted with rage. "How dare you defile this house of our fathers! How dare you!" Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.
'That house will eat you alive, Bella. Do you not see the way it consumes you even now?' And indeed, the house seemed to be growing darker, blacker, more truly evil than it had ever been. It's edges crept lower, closer to Bella, closer to consuming her alive. And all the while she continued drumming her claws, though the motion was quicker now, riled with acute agitation- tap, tap, tap tap tap tap. Andromeda turned around and glanced over her shoulder- her house grew brighter, the colors more vivid. She, with a new-found sense of purpose, turned back to her past.
"These are the old ways, the true ways, Andromeda, this is how the world should rightfully be. The superior race ruling over the weaker, moronic, vile underlings. Those of pure, noble blood not fraternizing with those vile dogs whom claim to be human. Keeping their descendants pure- not allowing the revolting filth to contaminate it's brilliant legacy! You are desecrating your heritage, you are upending our noble way of life! I can never kill you, but do not think for a moment that I can forgive you that easily. No, I must commit acts of euthanasia." She leaned closer to the window, almost pressing her once-graceful nose against the glass; her face was contaminated with her rage and true intentions, and they twisted her gorgeous, lovely face into a grotesque, twisted countenance. The true shape of her soul finally exposed upon her features. And Andromeda was scared, frightened to death, that she would fall through this insubstantial barrier; fall into her bright colorful world, and carry with her terrifying destruction and vengeance. She would twist and turn Andromeda's lovely world into the hell she couldn't draw her eyes away from. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"I will destroy everything you hold precious, Andi-dandy." She sneered her childhood nickname at her. "I will destroy the light from your life, and return you to your rightful place! If it takes me the rest of my life, I will hunt down and kill your mudblood husband." She spat out the name with contempt, "And your monstrosity of a child. I will destroy everything, or anyone, you have ever loved or cherished." And as she spoke these words her wand was absorbing the light, casting Andromeda's haven into darkness, into the House of Black, stealing her light, as her claws slowed down, sensing their victory, until it was slower than the beat of her heart-
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She was stealing-
"Mummy?" Bella smirked sarcastically, her features lighting up in cruel delight as she raised her wand higher, and Andromeda finally wrenched herself away from the terrible mirror, to spin around, to grab Nymphadora, because she would not let her sister have her child, she would not-
"MUM!"
Andromeda woke up, panting, clutching her sheets in a death grip around her fingers to her breast, Bellatrix's mantra still ringing in her ears- tap, tap, tap. The details, the vividness of the dream were leaking away from her as if water through her fingers; trickling away from her conscious, but she could still feel the absolute horror and fright of dream. Could remember starring into the imposing mirror and Bella smirking back...
Dora was staring at her, worried, her light eyebrows knit up. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, the impressive swell of her stomach protruding under her night shirt (Andromeda tried not to notice that her article of clothing was only thrown haphazardly on, the sleeves slipping completely off her shoulders, and turned inside out. It was not the most comforting though to think too deeply about what her daughter could have just been up to, even if she was married and with child. She kept a permanent Silencing Hex on her door for a reason.) A tall, lanky figure stood in the doorway; arms crossed, eyebrows knit together in worry and jaw set in a deep frown. Remus offered her a small half smile, and she attempted to return it.
'Well, at least he had time to get dressed again.' She couldn't help but think darkly, but quickly shook it off and focused on her daughter. "I'm fine Dora- fine."
"Mum, you were shaking insanely, and you were screaming, and I hardly think that's fine, and-" Andromeda untangled her hand from her bed sheets and lifted to shush her daughter, placing her other on her breast. She took a few deep, controlled, slow breaths to calm herself down. She had dreamt this nightmare once before, she was sure, when Dora was a tiny girl, and she had to glance at her bureau mirror- simple and wooden and plain- and trace the aged lines of her face; the loss of tautness, the deepening of the eye; to remind herself she was not twenty-something anymore with a small child. That position now was going to belong to Dora. Bellatrix had never gotten her, yet, had as of yet not reached her poor, in exile, husband whom had to run for his life from the likes of her; had only caught her favorite cousin... only. Only killed Sirius in cold blood, only was out there somewhere in the cold, cruel night, starking mad, with the ability and capacity to murder and destroy again, and again-
And a sudden, horrible, terrible fear for Dora, for her and Remus's unborn child, bubbled up inside her, threatened to consume her alive, and she collapsed, gripping her knees tightly, trying to fight it off. Nothing could happen to them, nothing could happen to them, not with Ted gone, not with-
"Mum!" Dora awkwardly attempted to scoot up next to her and embrace her but Remus carefully, hesitantly cleared his throat. It was a terrible sound and Andromeda stared at him in absolute horror and fright.
"There's an owl." he whispered, and sure enough, there was a tapping at the window; a large imposing object tap, tap, tapping outside in the cool March night- the sound of claws on glass. Tap, tap, tap.
I will destroy everything, or anyone, you have ever loved or cherished.
The owl continued tapping the rhythm of death.