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[personal profile] malificence
Who: Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Black
Where: Castle Malfoy, Orkney Islands
When: December 6, 1980
What: Midwinter holidays away from the suspicious eyes of the deviant populace the line of fire their very demanding jobs at the Ministry.

He'd quietly hatched this plan a month before, when Rodolphus had decided to mark his birthday with the end of his engagement to Bellatrix - because, as faux as the relationship had been, it had offered a shield. For Rodolphus and Bella, a shield from parents who were determined to see their lines continued through their children. For Lucius, and really few would have even thought of the Black-Lestrange union offering anything to a young man outside that relationship, it had made it easy to explain away any closeness to either Rodolphus or Bellatrix as merely friendship. They were engaged, after all. Druella Black had been planning the wedding for a full decade, and no doubt had her eyes on Lucius for Andromeda, before she'd run off with the Mudblood.

With the engagement over, however, there was a pretense at distance required, and while neither he nor Bella would admit as much, that was a bit more...difficult than one would expect. He likes to blame it on the ritual they'd performed Samhain night, the one he'd picked to get his unruly visions in line, and it was true it had involved the sacrifice of three Mudblood girls and complex and intense magics. But truthfully, he and Bella are very close and have been since he'd returned from his little European tour. It's not only magic that has them wanting some time with each other. But they can pretend it is.

His expression is dry as he pins an elaborate malachite and silver pin to the inside of Bella's robe after she's locked the doors of her official house behind her. "Keeps the maledictions at bay," he tells her. "My grandmother was most fond of magical jewelry of this sort." And his grandfather had been secretive and reclusive in his latter years, after his Irish pureblooded witch had passed - hence the use of his late wife's jewelry as the keys to the castle, so to speak.

"Cornelius Clagg affirmed I am, apparently, no longer a suspect. I assume Elektra did the same with you, darling?" The whole thing was...well. Less ridiculous than it seemed, even if Clagg had thought his senior and Lucius' former classmate had been punishing him for something by making him interview Lucius, Amycus Carrow, and - and this was probably the worst of it - Rabastan Lestrange.
malificence: (michael-pitt-boardwalk-empire-2300784)
[personal profile] malificence
Lucius Malfoy manages to get the door of his office closed before he collapses into his chair and presses the heels of his hands to to his eyes. The color's mostly leached from his face, and there's a naked pain on his face that outweighs any he's let display in any battle or mission. But he can brace himself for curses thrown at him in the heat of battle; the visions - and the blinding headaches that come with them - are almost always without warning, especially lately. This was easier to hide until recently.

Until recently, it was occasional, he could use his reputation as a lazy and bored pureblood wizard to simply disappear when one started. But with his new position - and with the flood of time deviants - it's become worse, and sometimes he's just...trapped. Today, at least, he takes some small comfort in the fact that no one's likely to walk in. Peter won't be in for another hour, by which time - well, he'll be semi-functional, at least. The Ministry is quiet at this time; it's generally only the Minister himself - unlikely to come by this office, at least Lucius fervently hopes not - and Bella. Bella's been known to drop by, of course, but perhaps she'll be occupied until he can smooth his appearance and force the pain behind a smirk.

He focuses on his breaths as nonsensical visuals and the accompanying pain swamp him. A phoenix rising from the ashes. Open warfare. Faces that are nearly like the ones he knows but...cannot possibly be them. It used to be, before the time deviants, that he could at least make sense of what he saw, but lately he's not sure when he's seeing his future or...theirs. If there's a point when the world he knows becomes the world he sees in these increasing visions, Lucius hasn't seen it yet. He's focused enough that he almost doesn't hear the door when someone pushes it open.

Almost. Fuck, he thinks as he meets Bella's eyes. He hadn't gotten the wards up before the worst of it hit, and for a moment their eyes meet - hers wide, his bloodshot and dark. There's no hiding what's happening, he thinks, and he...he can't come up with a clever lie in this moment. "Ward the door," he says, and there's a rasp to his voice as he lets his head fall against his hands again. "Please."

He's just going to have to trust her.
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[personal profile] malificence
Who: Lucius and Bellatrix
What: Just a witch and a wizard having a lazy weekend breakfast
When: Over the weekend.
Where: Malfoy Manor
Warnings: Disturbing levels of domesticity. Dark Arts Nerds, probably.

He still goes back and forth between Malfoy Manor and the far more distant and isolated Lestrange property where he had been living - but more of his nights are being spent in his own home, and it has its advantages, no matter how many times he contemplates just moving to the cottage in Cornwall and leaving them to it (a brief and unrealistic fantasy, honestly). One of them, frankly, is his kitchen elves are better than Rodolphus' are - and the spread includes coffee and tea, of course, but also chocolate and almond croissants and his favorite éclairs.

One might posit that after months of breakfasting with likeminded friends, a solitary late breakfast at Malfoy Manor - long after the boys have gotten themselves out of the house - might be lonely. It can be, certainly, Lucius thinks as the coffee pot raises in the air and pours the perfect amount of black French coffee into one cup. But not always.

His arm stretches across Bella's back as he reaches for the sugar. Which obviously he doesn't need to do, either, but. Well. "Cream, darling, or are you too busy stealing books from my library?"
anguium: (056.)
[personal profile] anguium
What: A chance meeting.
Where: A Tesco.
When: 6 September.
Who: Draco, Lucius, and Bellatrix.
Warnings: Draco getting scarred for life. Again. EDIT: Death Eater Sex Scenes (No Draco Involved Thank Merlin).

so two wasted death eaters walk into a tesco )
likedietrich: (13)
[personal profile] likedietrich
McKinnon's Rare Manuscripts and Spellbooks

Every morning, like clockwork, Marlene McKinnon can be found opening up the bookstore on a quiet corner of Diagon Alley, feeding the cats, Kitsune and Bastet, and then settling in for a day of the occasional customer and the occasional cursed book causing the occasional small explosion. Nothing to see here, really.

In the window today is the usual display of recently arrived tracts - a few from Egypt, one from Japan, a trio of interesting rituals from North America - but also a discreet sign:

Part-time Bookstore Help Wanted. Inquire Within. Time Travelers Welcome.

"I kept offering the job to Remus, but he's a stubborn pain in my ass."


Diagon Alley

Eventually, the shop does close, and Marlene steps outside instead of heading straight upstairs to her apartment. September's here, and there's a bit of a chill in the air that makes her shiver as she wanders aimlessly down the street. Technically, her destination is dinner or a drink, eventually, but she takes her time about it. She pauses outside Quality Quidditch Supplies for some time, eyeing the very latest in broom technology before she tucks her hair back.

"Sometimes I think I should moonlight as a pro Quidditch player, just for the excuse to buy brooms."
scinlac: (four.)
[personal profile] scinlac
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. )