Relations are simple a tedious pack of people, who haven't got the remotest knowledge of how to live, nor the smallest instinct about when to die.
~Oscar Wilde
i. bella
The Mark is burnt into her arm. She can't be more confident.
She walks into the family party with a sort of intense defiance, mixed with pride.
"Hello, family," she says coolly, Rodo trailing behind. "Look."
She pulls up her sleeve and let's them stare – it's no use trying to hide it.
ii. siri
He leaves one day, with a smirk on his face. It's raining out – his mother tells him it's a warning not to go.
"You go out those doors, and you're burnt! You understand me? Burnt to a crisp, with mud in your pure, pure blood!"
He looks at her face, looks at the purple rage on it and the lack of love, of missing him, and says, "Good riddance."
He leaves, and he doesn't look back.
iii. cissy
She cannot understand the lack of sisterly support, when before they were as tightly knit as three peas in a pod.
Bella has gone to Hogwarts, and has told them that she is too good for children's games, now. She tells Andy to put away the old toys – to play when she's away, perhaps.
She cannot understand why Bella would do that.
Andy draws away more gradually. She leaves for Hogwarts, still clinging to her sister.
And then she slowly changes. She does not refer to Muggleborns as Mudbloods. She refuses to speak to Lucius Malfoy, her betrothed.
And suddenly, the youngest sister is all alone.
iv. andy
She holds her baby girl, the little thing reaching up towards her as she coos down.
She left them all, and this is what she gets. Her mother promised her a certain comeuppance. Is this it? she wonders. Is this the horrible act of Fate?
Because if it is –
Well, frankly, she's happy as pie.
v. reggy
He's going to die.
He knows this, knows that that was what had always been his destiny. He commands Kreacher. He drinks the potion. He drowns.
He should have gone sooner. A simple Avada Kedavra would have sufficed. From anyone. His brother, perhaps, just so that he could exact a sort of revenge upon the little king, and set both their minds to rest. His cousin, to prove to him what a monster she was.
His master, to have the last say, as he always did.
He's ready to die, and when he ceases to breathe, some sort of relief washes over him. Nothing is left. Only –
Black.
A/N: For the Oscar Wilde challenge on the HPFC. Again. :) I chose the five cousins & the quote. Hope you all enjoyed! *slowly whittles challenges down the scant number of 15*