riddlelog | open → i've run campaigns against the light;

a → the ministry

( the time deviants registration department is open for business, and true to its nature as the unholy lovechild of the dmle and the dmac, its main defining trait appears to be 'ruthless efficiency'. well, that and being a little bit understaffed, considering that some parts of the registration seem to be held not just by your betters, but by your way betters.

like bellatrix, yours truly, who completely missed the seminar on work-life-balance, but definitely attended the one on dedication to the cause several times over. she can be found just about anywhere – maybe she just got done snapping at some poor sod, maybe you're unfortunate enough to share an elevator with her, maybe you're sitting across from her at one of the registration desks and looked at her a little funny, maybe you're someone who knows her well enough to be able to tell that she's been on her feet for forty-eight hours and counting –– or maybe you have an actual magical accident to report. whatever the case, she is going to be there, sharp and all cool politeness: )

And what would your problem be?

( and better make it a good one, because getting the trace only really hurts if you annoy her. )

b → wizarding london

( sooner or later, even she will be done professionally oppressing people for a living she doesn't even need too make –– and what better to do with all this fortune than spend it? odds are the actual purchase was made in knockturn alley, but maybe she is en route to some other shop. can't live off of dark artefacts alone now, can you.

anyway, as fate will have it, she manages to walk straight into you, or vice versa, and the newly-acquired item, an especially cursed manuscript wrapped carefully in spell-woven cloth, does as things do when affected by the basic law that is gravity: it goes tumbling. and since bella can't tell if the thoroughly warded cloth is still sitting snug in all the right places, all while being in no position to be involved in someone's rather public maybe-death... )

You mustn't touch it, unless you have a death wish.

( her tone all but implies you do, regardless of whether she was the one to cause the accident or not. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ St. Mungo's always has to deal with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, most especially when Time Deviants and Muggle-borns are involved. What the Ministry misses, St. Mungo's picks up, because one way or another, the most terrible magical accident will always end up either in the emergency room or a funeral home (if you're feeling optimistic, anyway); Andromeda's job is to make sure that it isn't the latter. She enjoys what she does for the most part, but the part where she has to dip her toes in the Ministry of Magic is another matter altogether.

But it's a job that she is required to do, especially when unregistered Time Deviants enter St. Mungo's in critical condition. The next step after keeping them alive is to report to D.M.A.C., and while an instant M.I.A.V.I. report has been sent out to the authorities, follow up paperwork is always expected. Which is why Andromeda is in this situation — the glorified delivery owl.

Suffice it to say, this is her least favorite part of her job. ]

Should there be any?

[ She says, ever so professional, a tone of voice that she really only reserves for family. And while the ability to look at Bellatrix Black in the eye is something most people lack, Andromeda has never had that problem, even now. She hands over a stack of paperwork. A list of names, currently residing in St. Mungo's. Most notably, a couple of muggle-born time deviants at the wrong place at the wrong time, now held in their walls. Adamant not to be registered, fearful and hateful of the name Tom Marvolo Riddle in equal measure, in the way that even muggle-borns of their own time are not, not yet anyway.

Andromeda and the other Healers cared for them as well as they could, but the rest is no longer up to them. ]

These are yours.

Are they?

( Cold focus turns away from her sister and out onto the paperwork, to the names that stir no feelings, the sharp M behind each one that reduces them to nothing at all in her eyes. When Orion Black, her predecessor in this very office, had aimed to intimidate on these occasions, Bellatrix has no such aspiration where Andromeda is concerned. Her sister shouldn't fear her. Has no reason to.

Bella doesn't see herself as the villain – in fact, she sees Andromeda as the one to hurt and betray her – and it all adds up quite nicely in her head. The Minister obviously has the best intentions for the right kinds of wizards and witches, all the things their family, their schoolmates, their highly elitist social circle have always said mudbloods deserve is something she now herself makes happen, both in the light of day and in secret. This can't be wrong.

So if it isn't wrong, then what is it her sister feels when she saves these lives? And how could it possibly live up to the exhilarating shock that comes with killing? )

The Ministry will take them into custody.

( It is not a death sentence, though some argue that Azkaban is far worse than death. Worse, still, is that she says it with not a sign of remorse. )

I suppose we will not be finding them sufficiently cooperative?

open → i've run campaigns against the light;

a.

no subject